The Smokescreen and the Phantom
Virginia had been summoned. Her Jimmy Choos clicked down the dreary hall as she and Peter followed an unassuming man in a brown paisley suit. Her silk blue suit with grey pinstripes, by The Row, lay flawlessly against her skin as she walked briskly – she was ready to be far away from the grubby brick building and the pretentious agents that had destroyed her day demanding her presence.
The harsh lighting had her squinting and her hand itching to pull her sunglasses from her bag. The floor tiling was dizzying, so she forced her eyes to focus on a distant door at the end of the drab hall. And the walls were of peeling paint; the entire place smelling like fresh paint was truly baffling.
They reached a door and the unassuming man opened it briskly, entering it just as quickly. There was a sense of annoyance in the air and both Virginia and Peter smirked. Virginia Lance entered the room coolly, her posture easily adjusting to the plush carpet of the mundane office.
The door swung shut behind them, a solemn click sounding as it locked, and both she and Peter followed the man without preamble.
They finally entered a large conference room with a single man sitting at a large wood and glass table. Another man entered as the first sat to the seated man's right, and the new arrival sat to his left.
Virginia looked at the balding man, with a rather expensive toupee, sitting at the far end of the table. She smiled and unbuttoned her double-breed suit jacket. She flung it open and sat at the other end of the long table; Peter sat to her right and put her attaché case in front of her on the table.
She looked to the man at the end of the table and smiled broader. She enjoyed his overly bushy eyebrows twitching behind his round glasses. "Mr. Lents. I am rather busy. What is it that you need of me that you can not read from our reports?"
The man matched her smile and leaned forward. "I need to see you, look at your eyes, and ask questions, to make sure I receive all the information – true and accurate information."
Something niggled at Virginia. She had never met the man, but she knew of him. He was famous within the agency – a man who could break any code. He had never been in the field, but he had directed many missions – successful missions – he was analytical, cold; numbers were more important to him than operatives.
But there was something else, something familiar. She schooled her expression and smiled. "Please ask your questions, Mr. Lents. I am not trying to be uncooperative."
Instead of Lents questioning her, his people did, and, without her telling him to, Peter answered. Virginia and Mr. Lents – Smokescreen and Mainframe – smiled and never took their eyes off of each other.
Within the agency, he was Malcolm Lents. He was recruited right out of college – MIT – and he had been an agency star almost from day one. Inwardly, Malcolm Lents had often mocked his colleagues – those who thought they were superior or even his equal.
To him, they were all idiots playing spy games, but Marques Cameron and Virginia Lance had been different. When he first realized Marques had found his trail, he was rather impressed. When the man killed himself just before he could extract the information he wanted, he had been disappointed. Not because he didn't get the information, but rather because he had accidentally caused such a bright light to be snuffed out. He would have loved to enter the scene as Malcolm Lents and maybe win the man's loyalty.
But then he did find the information – he found Smokescreen, an agent buried even further and more securely within the agency than even he was.
She had been behind the one man he had ever admired and – he understood later – was the reason the man killed himself. It caused his world to shift. Someone he considered to be as close to perfection as possible killing himself for the female version of perfection.
It had caused him to see Jessica very differently.
His stomach clinched as a look of knowing passed through Virginia's eyes. He knew this was a dangerous move, but it had been necessary. He had to know all she knew, even what she had not put in the reports.
But he had exposed himself. She did not know what she was seeing, but he knew she had caused a warning to go off within her.
He had given himself away.
He forced himself not to relax; he did not allow himself to lean back in his seat – he couldn't give more away to her.
Later that night, Jessica was half asleep on one of the plush sofas in the sunroom. It had almost been a week since she had received the new phone and tablet, and she had been anticipating her fiancé's arrival.
She had fallen asleep by the time Albert Cummings had arrived. He parked his luxury sports car next to hers and smoothly exited the vehicle. He looked around the property and his heart thumped with excitement. He was home – his things would arrive in a few hours and he had appointments with two construction companies – this was his new home. It was his new base of operations.
He walked to the door, his Stone Island set hugging his tanned muscular form, his thick naturally curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail and hung down his back, and his green eyes were clear as glass. He entered the home and went to her favorite place. He smiled and stood watching her for a long while.
He frowned; she slept too hard, he would need to put a security detail on her. He blinked as he thought about her being the only one who would know his true face. He hadn't seen his parents since he was two, and he had killed everyone else who had ever laid eyes on his green eyes, or his thick auburn hair.
"Jessica?" He had forgotten his true accent and so he was a bit startled when he heard his own voice. He moved and sat next to her on the sofa. He took her feet and began rubbing them. "Auriolus?"
Jessica stirred at the sound of the nickname. "Ally?"
He smiled; she had chosen a nickname for him already. "Yes love. My things will be here soon. Do you want to direct the movers?"
She shook her head as she rose and moved to him. She curled up into a ball and pressed into him. He wrapped his arms around her as his body warmed. "No Ally. This is your home as well. Put your things wherever you like."
He smiled again, took a large three-karat yellow diamond from a purple and gold ring box, and put it on her finger. Jessica looked at it sleepily for a moment, then her back went straight as she understood what it was. She turned to him with a wide smile.
"I am yours forever Ally. Forever." She put her arms around his neck.
All he could do was hold her tight as his love grew more by the second. It was time to end things. Albert Cummings' billionaire life would be his final life. It was time for all of the others to die.
Albert Cummings would grow old in a calm life with Jessica Lance.