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    Shadow Walk In
    Shadow Walk In
    Shadow Walk In
    Ebook317 pages4 hours

    Shadow Walk In

    By Barbara Bretana

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    About this ebook

    Aiden is now an agent for Dr. Qruips and is sent to the Mid-East to rescue an American agent from beheading and to track down a missing nuclear shipment. He is kidnapped by the arms dealer responsible for the theft and once again. is forced into the persona of one of his alter egos. Falls in love with the dealer's daughter and goes on a wild chase through Europe.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBarbara Bretana
    Release dateNov 10, 2014
    ISBN9781311880406
    Shadow Walk In
    Author

    Barbara Bretana

    I've been writing and reading since the age of three. Anyone who knows me knows I'm nuts about horses, reading, dogs and painting. Went to school in Vermont, Castleton State and Pratt/Phoenix School of Design and found out college wasn't for me. Worked with Developmentally Disabled and loved it. Went back to school for my CNA license and decided to try writing for a career as I keep breaking things like my rotator cuff, discs and whatnot. Getting bucked off your horse, well, I don't bounce like I used to. I'm the one in the brown coat.

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      Book preview

      Shadow Walk In - Barbara Bretana

      Chapter 1

      Icame in the apartment but not by the door, stood over the sleeping R.N. and studied the long, lean length of her. Her shiny dark hair was parted in the middle and although her eyes were closed, I knew they were a pansy brown with emerald flecks and rings in the irises. Her smile was lopsided and genuine, I spent every waking moment thanking God that she was mine.

      It was dark, the moon had yet to make an appearance but I had no need of lights for my eyes had a genetic mutation that allowed me to see in near total darkness.

      I didn’t wake her; instead, I went to the kitchen, turned on the gas and made a cup of tea. There on the counter was a brand-new jar of peanut butter with a spoon in it and a note from Terry.

      I laughed. It read, Tigger, this one’s yours. Spoon and all.

      I leaned against the Vermont marble countertop and ate a cupful, felt my tissues absorb it with screaming glee. She knew my penchant for high protein snacks when I came off a job.

      Washing down my pills with the tea, I cleaned up the dishes and eased my way into the bathroom. Mine was all black tile and marble, with a small mirror. Terry bitched about that, she said she had a hard time doing her makeup but I had an aversion to mirrors and did not like them near me.

      The water was so hot it nearly burnt the hide off me but I liked it that way. The pelleting effect of the pulsating shower head massaged my sore muscles and relaxed me so that I could fall asleep easier.

      My cell phone buzzed on the kitchen table and I heard Terry pick it up and answer. Sticking my head out the door, I called, I’m still dressed. Who is it?

      Who else would call at 2:15 in the morning, Aiden?

      Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’d managed to pull off my shirt, my socks and shoes, but I still had on my new Armani pants. Terry raised an eyebrow. It was a new suit.

      Armani?

      I grinned. Like it?

      Your closet’s prettier than mine, she complained. It’s Qruips on the phone.

      I took the phone. She kissed me and made herself a cup of tea as she sat on the bar stool near the island. Her eyes were heavy lidded; she’d just come off a 24/12 in surgical and was off for the next 48 hours.

      Dr. Qruips, I greeted flatly.

      Good evening, Aiden. Good trip? My boss asked me in his precise, Etonian accent with just a trace of Old South.

      No problems, Dr. Qruips. Picked up the merchandise exactly where you said it was, delivered it to the Embassy, took the next flight out.

      Any headaches, nose bleeds?

      No. The new medications helped.

      Fiore said you didn’t come in the main entrance. He was watching for you.

      I hesitated, said, I came in through Shadow from the airport.

      There was silence for several long heartbeats. Mildly, he returned, You’ve never done that before.

      I know. I just wanted to come straight home without stopping and when I walked forward, I was in the building outside my door.

      I think you should come in tomorrow and let Dr. Bayonne do some tests on you.

      Now it was my turn to remain silent.

      Aiden? he prompted. He knew my feelings on all the testing, poking and prying medical people had done to me in the past.

      I was taking Terry to the Opera.

      Oh. What were you seeing?

      I noticed he said ‘were.’ Aida. Can’t I postpone it till after? It took me three months to get these tickets.

      It took you three months of intensive therapy to recover from your last episode, Aiden. I don’t believe another setback would be healthy.

      What time? I asked resignedly.

      Be here at six a.m. What time is curtain call?

      Nine. Dinner before at La Traviatore.

      Make it at Four Seasons. The owner will hold a table for you. He’s a colleague of mine.

      Four Seasons! I looked at Terry. That meant she’d have to go shopping for a new dress and shoes. I sighed. There went my day of relaxation.

      I’ll be there.

      Good. See you tomorrow, Aiden. Get some sleep.

      Yeah, right. I hung up. I didn’t say goodbye, I never said it, and I had a phobia about goodbyes. I said, ‘so long; see you later’ but never a final ‘goodbye’.

      Terry?

      The Opera’s off? She sighed with weary resignation. It wasn’t the first time our plans had been derailed. Nor would it be the last.

      No. Qruips made us a reservation at the Four Seasons.

      "Oh my God! I need a dress! Shoes! My hair done! You ass! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Where am I going to get all this done at the last minute?" she wailed and started to dig through her closet. Which wasn’t as large as Kim Kardashian’s but close.

      The Four Seasons was where you could rub shoulders with the likes of Madonna, rock stars, reality TV hosts and up and coming politicians. Of course, I thought she was beautiful enough to fit in anywhere in anything but women were funny that way.

      My doorbell chimed and I went to see who it was, she was too busy flinging clothes on the bed.

      The man standing on the other side of the steel bolted door was 6’1", broad shouldered in a suit and carrying a gun. I opened the door wider and he stepped inside. Closing it behind him, he peeked in at Terry.

      Mr. Andreason, I saw the light come on, he said. Didn’t see you come in.

      He looked pissed. He was supposed to be my bodyguard and took his job seriously so when I sneaked around him, I offended his capabilities.

      Sorry, Fiore, I said insincerely.

      How do you do that? he asked. He had no idea of my Shadow Walking ability; Qruips did not share that with him.

      You sneezed and I sneaked past.

      He snorted, checked out the room and left still disgruntled. I went back to the shower, took off my clothes and stepped in. Screamed and shut the water off. It had turned ice cold.

      Terry came running when I yelled, saw me shivering and shriveled up, all blue and laughed. Idiot! You left the water on all this time? No wonder it turned cold.

      She eyed me. It’s a good thing I know you better, she smirked. Those boys need to grow up.

      I mustered my dignity, pulled a towel around me and went to bed.

      Chapter 2

      Imanaged about two hours sleep even with her grumbling at her lack of appropriate clothing and at five, got up, dressed in jeans and t. I rummaged through the pocket of my jacket that I’d carefully hung on my clothes jockey, feeling for the box I’d carried all the way from Istanbul. I handed it to her.

      What’s this? She looked up at my eyes. She never failed to tell me how beautiful they were even mismatched. The one green, and the other blue. It was a rare genetic mutation called heterochromia iridium.

      Open it, I urged.

      She lifted the lid and gasped. Inside on black velvet was a gold collar necklace with lapis, carnelian, onyx, rubies and a two-carat diamond, all designed like an Egyptian royal pectoral and with dangling matching earrings.

      It’s beautiful, she whispered, holding it against her shoulders and neck. She threw her arms around me and kissed me passionately, pulled me down to the floor and rewarded me with her own version of thank you.

      *****

      I was late for my appointment with Dr. Bayonne. He took my blood pressure, pulse and respirations and frowned.

      High? I asked, sighing.

      No. Your pressure’s great. Right on target, TPRs perfect, too. In fact, you’re pretty damn relaxed. He smirked. Did you get lucky, Aiden?

      Doc, I don’t kiss and tell.

      Humph. I want an MRI to see if there are any significant changes. Then, a blood test and—

      Doc, I interrupted. Make it quick. I have to go shopping with Terry to buy a new dress and shoes, hair, nails, the works for tonight.

      He stared at me. "Are you nuts? You want to go shopping with a woman?"

      Well, I said slowly, "I don’t want to, but I know better than to say so. Besides, I’ll be with her."

      You need help, boy. He shook his head. Take off your clothes, put on this gown.

      Damn, I hated this. Grumbling, I took off my designer jeans, socks, boots and shirt, pulled on the gown and tied it. We walked down to Nuclear and I climbed onto the table, he hit the button and I slid inside the open MRI tube.

      The tech came in and took over, taped my head so I couldn’t move it. The banging started and the laser traveled over my face. I kept my eyes closed, pictured images of Terry nude on my lap and the results must have affected the scans.

      The tech said with a smile in her voice, Aiden, think about something else, please.

      Like cold showers? I fell asleep after an hour in there and it was Dr. Qruips that woke me with a gentle shake on the shoulder.

      Aiden.

      I wiped the drool from my mouth, looked around. I fell asleep?

      His gray eyes almost twinkled. For a whole blessed hour, uninterrupted, deep REM sleep. Just what you needed. Dr. Bayonne is reading your images now. Your blood work is fine, your vitals look great. Go home and enjoy your evening.

      I hopped out of the tube and ran back to where I left my clothes and was home in the time it took me to descend the elevator. As I entered the lift, I waved to Fiore’s replacement and rode up to my apartment. It was only 9:30a.m. and Terry was still asleep. I woke her with a kiss on the shoulder; she was clutching the box with the necklace to her chest.

      Hey, baby, she whispered, yawning. You’re back! Early!

      Come on, lazy bones, I teased. We have shopping to do.

      She flew out of bed, was dressed and ready to go in fifteen minutes. Terry wasn’t one of those women that needed an hour to get everything ready although she could spend that much time if she needed to. Being a nurse had taught her the value of speed and cutting corners where such meant lives saved.

      How much should I spend? How fancy is this place? What color should I choose? Where are we going?

      The garment district should be a good start. And the dresses aren’t Academy Nights wear but something along those lines. It’s the Met. I’m wearing a tux. I like you in blue. Or that pearly stuff. Heels. Big heels.

      My eyes gleamed. I loved her in high heels, she had incredible legs.

      Not now, Tigger, she laughed. We have too much to do. She looked at my shoes. Those comfortable? You’re going to be on them all day.

      Lead on, my lady.

      We took a taxi to the garment district and wandered into so many shops I lost count. I made dutiful comments where appropriate and kept my mouth shut when it wasn’t.

      She found one dress she loved, it was a sheath with a short train, high necked that hugged her chest lovingly, had a low back and sleeves that fluttered like butterfly wings. There was a waistband of sequins that curled up the side of the bodice in a leaf design and was almost luminescent—sometimes pink, green and then blue like an opal. Its price was $5000 and she put it back with a sigh.

      It clashes with the necklace.

      If you like it, get it, I said. I can get you something else to wear, another piece of jewelry.

      No, Aiden, I love the necklace.

      The designer cleared his throat. Perhaps I can help? What does it look like?

      Terry described it and the fussy little man smiled. Wait here. I think I know what would work.

      He came back in a few minutes with a hanger covered in tissue paper and carefully unwrapped a gorgeously simple dress of white silk pleated in a hundred tiny folds with a rounded neckline, Greek sleeves and a cinched waist. The skirt fell softly to the ground in the same little pleats. The material glowed with the same opaline shine but it was more subtle than the other and would make a perfect foil for the necklace and earrings. It looked faintly Grecian and Egyptian but modern.

      It’s an original Balenciaga, he said reverently.

      Terry’s eyes gleamed. How much?

      Nine thousand. It was $25,000 new. Gene Tierney wore it to the Oscars.

      We’ll take it, I said and Terry’s mouth dropped. Shoes?

      You’re a size 6 narrow? He stared at her feet.

      Seven.

      I have a pair of Andiamos that would go beautifully. He had a clerk bring them out and I loved the stiletto heels in gold scales that looked like sandals and zipped up the heels.

      Terry refused to model for me and the designer said she wouldn’t need any alterations. He did ask to see her in the complete outfit before we went to the Met. When he found out we would be at the Seasons, he told us he’d see us there.

      I handed the clerk my credit card and Terry’s eyes widened as the total came up. It was close to eleven thousand with tax.

      Aiden, she said worriedly.

      Terry, I make good money for Qruips. Don’t worry. This isn’t nothing, but it won’t hurt me.

      How much is your limit? she whispered.

      $75,000.

      Holy shit. Even the salesman looked impressed.

      I stared. Terry never cursed. She took her packages and we went out to find a nail and hair salon that would take walk-ins. She found a little place off 5th and Walton, described her outfit and they did her hair from the wash job to the curlers. While she was under the dryer, she took pity on me, told me to go get something to eat and would meet me at the local Dunkin Donuts for lunch. I kissed her, left her my credit card, checked my wallet for cash and scurried out before she could change her mind.

      Chapter 3

      Downtown, I walked into the lobby of the FBI building, strode across the great seal on the floor and the metal detectors went off from all the hardware I still carried inside me. Even though they knew me, I was pulled aside and under the watchful eyes of two agents, was scanned by their portable wands and patted down. I pulled out my ID; they scanned the license with its special holograph and only then nodded me through.

      Dr. Qruips is waiting on you, Mr. Andreason, one said.

      I’m not here to see him, I returned. I came to see my dad.

      That’s odd. Dr. Qruips said you’d be in at noon. I’ll take you up.

      Fine. Let’s go.

      We rode up in the elevator and neither of us said anything. Qruips’ office was on the top floor, he was now the Deputy Director of the FBI and Director of Homeland Security and liaison to both the CIA and NSA, Secretary of Defense; an ominous array of tasks he thrived on. His office was large but bookcases took up most of the room, a utilitarian desk, cheap rolling chair, laptop computer and a cell phone.

      His administrative assistant was an older woman who’d been with the agency for twenty-five years, named Ms. Haig. She gave me a look that everyone said meant she tolerated me which was more than she did for anyone else and brought me a cup of tea when she brought Dr. Qruips his coffee. He’d told her every time that wasn’t one of her duties.

      Drink it or be damned, she snapped and walked out.

      Thank you, Mrs. Haig, he said mildly. As the door closed, he told me to sit down, that my 6’4" looming over him made him nervous.

      Yeah, right. I folded myself into the lumpy chair and waited. Qruips still wore his signature gray suits but had modernized with pastel shirts and ties. He looked more like a high-priced English barrister than Deputy Director in the Spook trade. He had razor cut gray hair and eyes, a cold marble face but I had seen his eyes glow with both passion and affection. Typically, he wore mostly gray suits and clothing. In my youth, I had known him as the Gray Man. He had a beautiful estate in Virginia where I had lived for two years.

      What’s up? How’d you know I’d be here?

      Any self-respecting man would bolt the moment he got a chance after spending hours shopping with a woman. Besides, the first thing you do when you get back from a mission is visit your father.

      True. What did you want? I have to meet Terry at three. Thought I’d invite Dad to come eat with us.

      He’s busy on a new project, new DNA replicating process that cuts the wait time in half. He doesn’t want to leave it, yet. I wanted to talk to you about a job.

      I’m only back 24 hours, Qruips, I protested.

      I know. This is important. One of our agents was caught coming out of a compound in Turkey. They’re holding him in the Presidential Prison. He has information on terrorist cells in London and Canada that are headed our way.

      You want me to bring the data back?

      "I want you to bring him back. He’s memorized everything. It’s all in his head. And if he’s not rescued in two days, they’ll be taking his head. Two days is all he has before they break him or kill him."

      You know I can hardly Shadow Walk myself anymore, let alone with another person?

      I know it’s harder for you. But less damaging.

      Do I know this person?

      No. He’s American born but of Iranian parentage. Speaks fluent Farsi, Turkish and French. Like you.

      I don’t look Mid-Eastern, I pointed out. And I’m too tall.

      Didn’t seem to bother you in Islamabad.

      When do I leave?

      There’s a flight out after your dinner date. Enough time to say goodnight to Ms. Christopher.

      "Oh, she’s going to be so pleased with both of us. Where’s Dad?"

      In the isolation lab. I’ll tell him you stopped by.

      I made it back to the Dunkin Donuts before she did and watched her walk in, her hair done up in some Grecian knot with ringlets and a golden band, her nails done to match. Every guy in the place turned to stare and the women turned green with envy. I stood up, kissed her lightly and pushed over the iced coffee and tuna melt croissant I’d ordered for her. I’d just finished my fifth one.

      How was your dad? she took a bite and I gaped at her. Sometimes, I swore she could read my mind.

      Didn’t see him. Busy on a new project. How’d you know I went there? I asked, curious.

      You always go see him when you come home from Qruips assignments.

      Uh—

      When? She didn’t seem angry, just resigned.

      After our dinner.

      Well, at least he gave us that. You look rested.

      I slept for an hour this morning, I admitted. What do you want to do with the rest of the afternoon?

      I don’t want to mess up my hair and nails.

      Want to go to the Metropolitan? I suggested.

      What’s there?

      Cezanne Exhibit.

      She finished eating, shook her head. Let’s just go home, rest until tonight. I don’t want either of us falling asleep in our seats.

      I wiggled my brows. It’s a box. We can do more than sleep up there.

      She squealed. You got a box?

      That’s why it took me three months to get the tickets.

      Terry was quite careful not to disturb her hair or nails but everything else went to hell back at the apartment.

      How she managed not to sweat amazed me. I was drenched by the time she finished with me and had to take a shower. This one was blazing hot, steamed up the bathroom and she wailed that it would take the curl out of her hair.

      I went and lay down on the couch so she could have the bedroom. I’d already laid out my tux, shoes and socks, gold cuff links and watch, a Tag Heuer.

      Between the hot shower, the walking and the sex, I found myself in such a relaxed state that I fell asleep again only waking when Terry gently stroked my chin and kissed me on the forehead.

      She was dressed in a wisp of a bra and a skimpy lace thong that left her legs bare all the way to her waist.

      Wow! I breathed. That necklace will look awesome with that.

      She giggled. Get up, your dork and get ready. It’s seven and I wasn’t sure if we’re walking or taking a taxi.

      Limo, I yawned, rubbed my chin; decided I needed a touch up shave. I didn’t like the current trend that thought a two-day old beard was sexy, hated that scruffy look. I sat up, walked to the bathroom and pulled out my electric.

      Terry, would you rather have a Mercedes or a BMW?

      She was unwrapping the tissue paper with careful hands.

      A car. Beamer or Merc?

      We don’t need a car in the city. Parking and garaging one is a bitch.

      That’s not a problem. A spot comes with the apartment.

      You were planning on driving somewhere?

      For you. So you can drive to see your dad whenever.

      We’ll talk about that later.

      I shrugged, pulled on my pants, shirt; tucked in the tails. Stared in awe at the vision of an ancient Egyptian Goddess brought to life, knelt and kissed her hand. Impulsively, I said, Terry, marry me.

      Wow, she said. This is some dress.

      It’s what’s in the dress.

      Ask me again in a month. I like the arrangement we have.

      Won’t change. She pulled me up, buttoned up the studs, tied my cummerbund and tie, and helped me with the gold cuff links made form real Greek Drachmas. I helped her lay the collar on her neck, clipped the safety clasp while she put the earrings in. I didn’t tell her how much it had cost me or that it was not a copy.

      She sprayed Euphoria on herself and Dior on me. Nice tux. Armani?

      No, Hermes Springer. From England. He does Qruips’ suits. She ran her hands under the lapels, tucked my collar down. Her purse was a tiny thing that held her lipstick, tissues and a pair of opera glasses, her ID and a fifty-dollar bill.

      Ready?

      I nodded. Called for the waiting limo and we walked down to the foyer hand in hand.

      Chapter 4

      It was hot, so hot that the sweat popped out instantly and evaporated nearly as quickly. I wore tropical weight slacks, cotton

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