"All that potential and France not sharing with the rest of the European Union," Yagura snorted, "naughty, naughty."
Maura burst into laughter. "Naughty, naughty? Who are you?”
"Yeah, fuck off, MacLaren,” Yaguara said with no real heat, “so, that's the cargo the Big Three hijacked. They must have a use for the Masoud group or they would have just killed everyone."
"Maybe Masoud has access to more equipment," Maura suggested. "As I said, it's rare and it's expensive."
Yagura leaned back, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "So, the REE stash. Important enough to take over a small, African country?"
"Absolutely," nodded Maura.
"Well, fuck, MacLaren. That's why the Big Three are sitting on a stash of weapons big enough to blow up the world." They sat in silence for a moment, listening to Manhattan traffic begin to grow for rush hour.
"So, Nicholas told me the Algerians are back in town tomorrow night for a big meeting at Corporation headquarters. We've been building untraceable offshore accounts day and night to house another sixty million dollars. This has to be the bidding war for control of the country's resources, and the Corporation will oversee the takeover of the government." Maura ran a hand through her curls, scratching her head in thought. "Have they told you what you'll be doing? Maybe you'd be in the Blood Room during the meeting?"
Yagura shook his head. "I'm not at that security rank yet. I'll be guarding the doors or some shit. How do we get someone in the room?"
Maura gripped the steering wheel, feeling like she wanted to cry and throw up at the same time. "Can you get me one or two of those microscopic bugs? The ones that attach to the skin?"
"Yeah, I've got some, actually, but-" He looked at her sharply. "Fuck no, Maura! You're going home and waiting for extraction. You're done here!"
"Tell me another way we're going to get a bug in there, Yagura! You know they'll sweep everyone but the Big Three!"
His face was expressionless as he stared at her. "Did he rape you?"
"What?" Her voice came out in a squeak.
Yagura looked at her directly. "You heard me."
Maura looked down at her fingers, twisted together in her lap. "It wasn't my idea. I never would have initiated anything, I-,” she sighed. “But it wasn't rape. I wanted... I knew I was supposed to report it immediately. I just... I couldn't say the words to you or Kennedy." She shuddered. "Especially Kennedy."
He sighed, looking out the window. "Are you trying to stay in the game thinking with your head or your pussy?"
That miserable flush of shame came over her again. "The former, Yagura. I am. I know I am compromised in a way; I know that. I didn't follow protocol. I care about him more than I should, but-" her throat closed up, trying not to vomit. "But he cares about me more than he should, too. I can get the device on him and we'll have everything we need."
Yagura sighed, looking away from her. "Go to work, MacLaren, let me think about it. Don't discuss this with Kennedy, she'll insist on bringing you in immediately."
Maura felt faint with the rush of relief, "Thank you." She grinned, "Look at you, withholding information from another senior partner. You Americans are always so rebellious."
He looked at her before shutting the door. "I'm serious about shooting you myself. Don't fuck around, MacLaren."
Chapter 12: You're Not the First Man I've Killed
In which Maura is betrayed.
As much as her hormones were desperately trying to overrule her sore and exhausted lower half, Maura was grateful the big meeting made it impossible to see James that day. Everyone worked in their departments until midnight, trying to be ready for the next day. But when she walked down the dock to her houseboat, there was a huge vase of native Irish flowers- globe flowers, lilies, and Molucca Balm waiting on her doorstep, with a note that read,"Damned Irish temptress."Breathing in their sweet scent, Maura forced herself to remember why she was here.
The big day was more of the same frantic combinations of code, creating safe havens for the unimaginable amounts of money to be offered up that night. Maura came back to her computer bank at lunchtime to find a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting on the desk. Checking to make sure Nicholas was still out of the room, she opened the bread to find the two microscopic mics in a tiny plastic case, nestled in the peanut butter. Fishing them out and hiding them in her bra, Maura sighed, bleakly eating the prop sandwich for lunch. As she'd alternately dreaded and hoped, a buzz came from her computer speaker around 5pm, with James's voice: a deep resonance with a surprise touch of growl, requesting her presence in his office. Carefully slipping the pinhead-sized devices on her fingertip, she walked down the executive corridors, her stomach in knots.
"Well, well. Look at this, my dinner showed up early." Fassell's sadistic drawl halted her, Maura eyeing the distance to James's door from where she was. Could she make a run for it? A harsh hand pulled her shoulder, forcing her to turn around.
"Mr. Fassell, Mr. Pine is expecting me," she enunciated. "He will not be happy if I'm late."
Fassell towered over her, edging Maura into the wall as he grinned down at her. "Now, is that any way to speak to a vice president of this company? You should be grateful I've taken an interest in you, MacLaren." He pulled off her glasses before Maura could stop him. "Look at those pretty green eyes. Why don't you give me the same 'fuck me' stare you give Pine, baby? Come on..." He pulled her closer, trying to yank off her shapeless cardigan.
"Mr. Pine IS EXPECTING A REPORT RIGHT NOW FROM R&D!" Maura pitched the volume of her complaint as high as she dared without screaming, which would be a disastrous idea in the Corporation's inner offices. Angrily pushing against the hands ripping her clothes, Maura grabbed a handful of perfectly coiffed hair and yanked his mouth away from hers. "Not going to happen!" she hissed.
Fassell’s hand moved back. "Bitch!"
