Perfect Cover (The Squad #1)(37)
Author: Jennifer Lynn Barnes

East. The word echoed in my head, complete with peppy computer voice. East. East. E.

E = 3.

It came to me more like a splash of water in the face than a lightning bolt. On the telephone, the letter E was on the number 3, and the number 6 was the letters M, N, and O.

0-23-24 E, 0-24-10 N.

I scribbled the numbers down and handed them to Brooke. “Try these,” I said. Miracle of miracles, she did, and even more remarkably, it actually worked.

“Al Jawf, Libya.”

My eyes went immediately to Tara’s, but she gave no sign of whether this was good news or bad news.

“How many operatives in Al Jawf?” I asked, hoping the answer would be “none” even though I knew in the pit of my stomach that we’d gotten the code right.

“I don’t know,” Brooke admitted, “but I’m getting ready to find out.” She picked up her cell phone and dialed. We couldn’t risk uploading anything to our superiors’ breached database, but a secure phone call was a different beast altogether.

On the other end of the phone line, someone answered, and Brooke didn’t spend any significant amount of time beating around the bush.

“Al Jawf, Libya,” she said clearly. Then she paused, and about fifteen seconds later, she hung up.

“There are three operatives in the area. They’re alerting two of them. The third is in too deep.” Brooke tilted her head slightly and her hair (pulled into a high, glossy ponytail) fell to one side. “The primary assessment is that younger operatives will stand a better chance of moving in undetected, especially since our covers aren’t at risk from the leak.” She paused. “We’ve been authorized to send in a team of post-eighteens.” From her demeanor, she might as well have been talking about a sale on capri pants (still no idea what those were) at the mall.

“I’ll go.” Tara spoke immediately.

“Guess that means I’m in, too,” I said. I wasn’t sure, but I was going to go out on a limb and guess that going to Libya would get me out of Mr. Corkin’s class and cheerleading practice. If I was lucky, it might even get me out of Saturday’s halftime performance. Besides, there was such a thing as loyalty. I wasn’t about to let Tara go it alone.

“No and hell no,” Brooke said, responding to us in order. “Tara, you’re too close to it, and Toby, (a) you’re not eighteen yet and therefore not eligible for any mission designated post-eighteen, and (b) you’re a mess. No offense.”

Why was it that girls like Brooke always said something offensive, and then followed it with the phrase no offense? And what was up with having to wait until I was eighteen to go on any of the really cool missions? I vaguely recalled Brooke saying that at age eighteen we had the option of being promoted to full CIA status, and yeah, I could see the legal benefits to only letting the older, more trained girls go international, but that didn’t mean that I had to be happy about it, and it didn’t mean that I planned to wait another two years before I got in on the action.

“Zee, you’re in,” Brooke said. “So am I. Lucy, we’ll need complete weapons hookup in less than an hour. The Big Guys will have their fastest jet here within the hour, but it’ll still be a ten-hour flight, minimum. Chloe—”

Chloe waited, her arms crossed over her chest.

“—I need you here. Getting this agent out is only half of our problem. If I know Peyton—and believe me, I do—this is only the beginning. I think there’s a very real chance that this was the freebie, a show of good faith that they gave Heath Shannon to prove that they’ve got legitimate information. Once Shannon’s clients manage to verify the information, they’ll want more, and one guess as to when that particular exchange will be going down.”

Bubbles waved her hand madly in the air.

“Yes, Bubbles?” Brooke said.

“Four o’clock today,” Bubbles said brightly, proud of her inference skills.

“Okay,” Chloe said. “I get it. We need to send a team in to intercept the data Shannon’s collecting from Peyton.” She paused. “And we need to hack Infotech ASAP, crash their system, and make sure they can’t get any more of our intel.”

It seemed simple enough. One trip to Infotech to shut down the leak, and one trip to Peyton to take down Heath Shannon and keep him from passing on any more information to his terrorist contacts. Personally, I was liking this plan a lot better than the one that involved me seducing Jack Peyton.

Unfortunately, fate (and Brooke) was against me. “Getting into Peyton and bugging their offices is still important, but right now, the most important thing is stopping this transfer and containing the leak. After that, you can do your…thing with Jack.”

I wanted to go on the record that Jack and I would not be doing any thinging, but didn’t have the chance.

“Does that mean we’re moving the party back?” April asked glumly.

The twins looked absolutely scandalized by the very idea.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brooke said. “Chloe will take a team to Infotech this morning. You guys should plan to be back by lunch so you can spread the word about the party, and then head over to Peyton during seventh period. The party won’t start until nine or ten tonight—that should give everyone plenty of time to get ready, even if Zee and I will have to play hooky because of the whole Libya thing.”

I glanced around the room and verified that, yes, I was the only one who seemed to be thinking that this time frame and Brooke’s priorities qualified her for the loony bin.

“You think you can get the agent out with only two people?” Tara asked.

Brooke gave her a look that made me think a “no offense” statement was forthcoming, but in the end, all she did was smile and nod.

“Zee, you’ll handle our covers?” Brooke’s voice rose at the end of the sentence, but everyone (including Zee) knew that it was an order, not a request. Brooke Camden didn’t make requests.

Zee ran her tongue over her lip as she thought. “Let me download some information on Al Jawf,” she said, “but we’ll probably go with either visiting schoolgirls or actresses there for an on-location shoot, unless antifemale sentiment is too high, in which case we’ll go with a blender.”

“Blender?” I mouthed at Tara.

“Blending in,” she said.

I looked at Brooke and then at Zee. Boobaliciousness and blending didn’t exactly go together.