Page 87 of Secrets Beneath the Waves
“One man dead,” he muttered, his voice low and venomous. “And still no sign of this woman.”
His piercing gaze fell on the map spread across the desk, detailing the Cayman Islands with precise markings. Every lead, every contact, and every failed attempt to locate Jamie Austen's daughter was documented in red ink. Each failure was a thorn in his side, a blemish on his otherwise impeccable reputation as someone who got things done.
The assistant director of intelligence leaned back in his chair and exhaled sharply. “How hard can it be to find one woman on a small island?” he hissed to no one in particular. His men, stationed outside the office, knew better than to interrupt him when he was in this state.
His phone buzzed on the desk and jolted him out of his thoughts. He snatched it up as his mood shifted to one of anticipation. The caller ID displayed a single, cryptic word:Contact.
He answered on the second ring. “Speak.”
The voice on the other end was nervous and spoke in a distinct American accent. “I have information.”
The director’s free hand balled into a fist. “You’re late. I expected something a few days ago.”
“These things take time,” the contact replied coolly. “But I think you’ll find this worth the wait.”
“Go on.”
“Ellie Austen is planning a scuba diving trip on Saturday.”
The director’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. “How reliable is this?”
“Very. I’ve confirmed it.”
“Good. If true, then you’ll be rewarded accordingly.”
“Speaking of rewards . . . we need to discuss additional payment for this information.” The mole’s tone had shifted slightly. A hint of greed seeped through his otherwise professional demeanor.
The director’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold glare directed at the empty room. “We’ve already paid you. Double.”
“That’s not good enough,” the contact said, his voice firm. “This information is time-sensitive and precise. I’ve gone to considerable risk to secure it, and you’re not the only one who’d pay for it.”
For a moment, the director said nothing. The silence stretched, taut as a wire. Finally, he spoke. “Fine. But if this information is false, you’ll regret it.”
“It won’t be,” the contact said confidently. “You’ll see.”
The line went dead, leaving the director staring at his phone. Slowly, he set it down and leaned forward, his hands steepled in front of him as he considered his next move.
He picked up another phone, a secure line, and dialed a number from memory. The call connected almost immediately.
“It’s me,” he said curtly. “You have new orders. The girl will be scuba diving on Saturday. Find her. It shouldn’t be hard.”
The voice on the other end responded with a quick acknowledgment before the line disconnected. The director leaned back in his chair as a rare flicker of satisfaction made him smile.
Finally, the pieces were falling into place. This time, there’d be no mistakes. Jamie Austen’s daughter wouldn’t slip through their fingers again.
Friday morning
Ellie’s stomachchurned with nervous energy as she tied her hair back into a ponytail and adjusted the gun strapped to her lightweight dive suit. Hidden in the suit were two knives. She hoped she didn’t have to use any of the weapons.
All the details were in place. She’d gone down to the marina early that morning to make sure everything was in order. She’d rented a twenty-eight-foot speed boat because she wanted something fast.
Matthew stepped out of his car right on time, dressed in his usual confident demeanor. He smiled as he approached the boat. She took his gear from him and set it on the boat as he stepped in from the dock. A quick kiss on the side of the lips sent a pang of regret through her.
The thought of killing Matthew pained her heart, even if he was the mole.
“Ready for an adventure?” he asked, his voice light, but with a tension Ellie couldn’t ignore. He pointed at her gun. “Are you expecting trouble?”
“Always,” she replied as she forced a smile. “I can’t be too careful.”
