“How about staging a fake operation by CN-6?” Logan suggested. “Something that looks legitimate but is actually a ruse.”
Toby leaned forward, his eyes lighting up with an idea. “We could create two separate operations and feed each one to Miller and Lopez. See which one gets leaked.”
Arlo rubbed his chin. “Make it something that would interest Ortega. Like a raid on a supposed stash of his. But give each of them a different location.”
Ezra added, “We can monitor both locations. If Ortega or his men show up at either, we’ll know which one of them is the mole.”
Seb turned to Clara. “What do you think? You’ve been working on this for longer than us, and you’ve worked closely with Ortega too.”
Clara pondered for a moment. “It’s risky, but it could work. We just need to make sure that the information is plausible enough for the mole to bite. There are a couple of addresses that Ortega uses to store his acquisitions and hold meetings with his associates.
“Of course, we’d be counting on the fact that he has anything stored there that CN-6 would be interested in. If he doesn’t then he might not take any action even if he does get the tipoff about the raid.”
Carter, who had been listening intently, spoke up. “He’s clearly a man who likes keeping records. After all, he has the ledger at his house, and there must be important evidence at the warehouse, or he wouldn’t have sent his men back there to protect it when he learned about our infiltration attempt.”
Seb nodded. “We need to ensure that the rest of the CIA team is in the dark about this. The fewer people who know the real plan, the better. Best if we just keep it to ourselves and Miller and Lopez.”
The group nodded in agreement. The plan was taking shape, each member contributing their expertise and ideas.
Clara felt a sense of purpose she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Working with Seb and his team, she wasn’t just a lone operative anymore—she felt part of something bigger, a collective force who were working towards a common goal.
As the meeting wrapped up, they had a solid plan in place. Everyone knew their role and what needed to be done. The stakes were high, but together, they were determined to root out the mole and protect their mission. Clara looked around at the faces of her new friends, feeling a renewed sense of hope and determination.
Just as the team was finalizing their plans, Clara’s phone vibrated, breaking the concentration in the room. Glancing at the screen, she saw her father’s name flash up. With anapologetic look, she excused herself and stepped away to take the call.
“Hi, Dad,” she answered, trying to keep her voice even despite the swirling emotions and the inconvenient timing.
“Clara, I’m in town,” her father said, sounding hopeful yet tentative. “I had to see you, it’s been too long so I came out to Spain especially. I was hoping we could meet for dinner later. There’s a lot that we need to talk about.”
Clara hesitated, torn between the urgency of the mission and the long-standing rift with her father. But she knew this conversation was long overdue and if he’d gone to the effort of coming to Spain to make things right with her then she should at least meet him halfway.
“Sure, Dad. I can meet you. Where?”
“Let’s meet at El Jardín. It’s a quiet place, perfect for a serious talk. And it was your mother’s favorite,” he said quietly.
A lump rose in Clara’s throat at the mention of her mother and the restaurant she had loved so much. She tried to swallow it down enough to speak.
“Okay, I’ll see you there in an hour,” she confirmed before ending the call.
Returning to the group, she explained the situation. “I’m really sorry, guys. I have to go. That was my dad. He’s here in town and wants to meet up. This is something I can’t put off.”
Seb pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head. “We understand. Family first. Always. We’ll keep working on the plan here and I’ll catch up with you later to go over any changes.”
“Thank you.” She turned to his friends and smiled. “Thank you all, your help and support really means a lot to me.”
*
The ambiance of El Jardín, with its soft lighting and elegant decor, stood in stark contrast to the turmoil in Clara’s heart as she arrived for dinner. The place hadn’t changed since she had last been there with her mom and it brought back an array of happy memories spent there. She remembered the three of them there as a family on one of the occasions her dad had come over on summer vacation, and the time she had spent there alone with her mom when they’d been celebrating her cancer going into remission. That night had been filled with hope and relief, even though it had turned out to be short lived.
Clara’s father was already there, waiting at a quiet table near the back of the room. The weight of the tension between them hung in the air as she approached.
“Clara,” her father greeted, standing up to meet her. He pulled her in for a quick hug then leaned back, his eyes searching hers. They were filled with something that looked a lot like hope.
“Hey dad,” Clara replied, taking a seat. The first few moments were filled with awkwardness as they navigated their way around pleasantries.
Finally, her father broke the silence that had fallen between them. “I’ve missed you, darling. I know I haven’t been there for you when you needed me most. I wish I could tell you how sorry I am about that.”
Clara felt a lump form in her throat. “I’ve missed you too, Dad. There’s been so much left unsaid between us over the past few years, I don’t think I know where to begin.”
