Smoked

Decker. I wanted her in my arms, in my bed, and in my life—permanently, but that wasn’t possible. Even before her memory came back, it hadn’t been.
“There’s something else you need to know.”
“Get on with it, Decker.”
“I’m not the only one tracking her.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Who else?”
“Someone at Interpol headquarters. I haven’t been able to determine exactly who yet.”
I knew from my meeting with Cope that the Interpol Executive Committee was convening this week; it was the primary reason why he was so anxious for me to get started. It would be the only time his three primary suspects would be in the same place at the same time this quarter. My next opportunity to surveil the three men together wouldn’t be until October.
“Do you have any idea why someone from Interpol would have their eyes on Siren?”
“Negative, but I sure as hell intend to find out.”
“Thanks, Decker.”
“I have a couple more updates for you.”
“About?”
“Siren’s nurse turned up in London. Seems she’s taken on another private nursing gig.”
I’d wired the remaining funds I owed her before I left the States and headed for France. “Good to know,” I said, not really caring other than to know the woman was accounted for. “What was the other update?”
“Your security system at the Blazing T is fully operational. For the time being, I’m receiving the same alerts Zeke gets, and I have mirror monitoring set up. I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re off playin’.”
“You meant while I’m off saving the world. Seriously, thanks, Decker.”
“You’re welcome. Maybe after this, you’ll agree to step away from the dark side.”
“Ah, that’s gonna hurt ol’ Burns’ feelings when I tell him what you said about his number one son.”
I could hear Decker’s laughter as he ended the call.
I didn’t like the connection between my mission and Siren one bit. Why would anyone from Interpol be keeping an eye on her? I thought about calling Decker back, but if someone had been watching her while she was at my ranch, he sure as hell would’ve said so.
The operative Cope had undercover at Interpol was someone who’d worked the same op Siren and I had for Rile. Calla “Casper” Rey had been one hell of an agent, and thankfully, after she walked out of the CIA, the Invincibles team had managed to keep her busy.
I’d known her late husband, Beau Rey, since the early days when we were both green recruits at the Farm. Beau had been killed during a mission in Venezuela, and rumors soon started circulating that the shot that ended his life was from friendly fire. Shortly after the chatter began about the circumstances of his death, the entire mission was burned. No trace of it anywhere.
If I were Casper, I would’ve done the same thing she did. I probably would’ve taken it a step further, though, and walked away from the intelligence community entirely.
Like Siren, Casper loved what she did. If she couldn’t do the work she’d been trained to do, what might’ve become of her life? At least by working freelance, those of us who knew her, and who had known Beau, could keep an eye on her. I was surprised when Cope told me she had taken on the assignment, but he wasn’t officially CIA anymore either.
“Secretary-General Kim’s office,” Casper answered with a perfect French accent. “How may I assist you?”
“Smoke Torcher, reporting for duty, ma’am.”
“Oui, Monsieur Torcher, I am happy to confirm your reservation at the Lyon Metropolis, this evening at nineteen hundred hours.”
“See ya then, Casper.”
When we met at the bar later, Casper kept up her French accent when we exchanged hellos, along with her cover name, Angelique Bonet.
“How’s Siren?” she whispered after looking around us to see if anyone was close enough to eavesdrop.
“Better.” I waited until the bartender, the only person in the room with us, went into the back. “Someone from Interpol has their eyes on her. Do you know who?”
Casper nodded. “Byrne ordered it, but it was above my head.”
“Do you know why?”
“I listened in on a conversation between Byrne and Hughes. Rory was updating Daniel on Siren’s condition and made a joke about sending her off to look for the Irish Crown Jewels while she was on administrative leave.”
“What did Byrne say?”
“He asked where she was, specifically, and Hughes told him she was in Waterford.”
“Anything else?”
“No, but as soon as he ended the call, he asked me to set up a meeting between him and one of the intel guys.”
“Why would he care that Siren was in a turd hunt for jewels that would never be found?” I didn’t expect Casper to answer; I was thinking out loud. “Any leads on a connection to the former CIA director?” I asked.
“Not yet, but there’s an off-site meeting scheduled tomorrow between Byrne, Kim, and Antonov.”
“No one else?”
“Not that I’ve been able to find.”
“Will you have ears on it?”
She nodded. “And eyes.”
“How?”
Casper cocked her head. “How do you think?”
“I thought this was a K19 mission.”
“As if Decker could keep his nose out of it.”
Under different circumstances, I might’ve given the man shit about it, but Decker had been in on taking down the director since the very beginning when Cope and another operative, Irish Warrick, grew suspicious about the deaths of some of the CIA’s best agents. I couldn’t fault him for wanting to see this through to the end.
“What have you got for me to work on while we wait for them to act?”
Casper pulled three files out of her bag. “Three CIA-related cold cases. Make yourself look useful.” She looked over her shoulder when the bartender came back in. “Au revoir, Monsieur Torcher.”
After Casper left, I went up to my room, opened the first envelope, and reviewed the documents. The case, now ten years old, was known as the La Chapelle-Saint-Maurice killings, named for the town in which the murders occurred. It involved the deaths of three members of a French family, one Brit, and one American citizen. There were two survivors.
While the