Burt had some of his hair, most of his teeth, and could still drive.
“Inner-G doesn’t allow phones.”
This horrifying statement brought Gabby back to the present.
“You’re supposed to leave yours at the front desk when you arrive.” Valentina checked her reflection in the mirror and swiped on some lipstick. Casually beautiful.
Gabby gasped, not casually anything. “How will I keep in touch with my family?”
“I’ll set up a dummy front desk number for them to call that can serve as an answering service while you’re gone.”
“Okay. Can we have that every day?” she joked. The EOD could screen tummy aches for her. That would be cool. But behind the joke, she couldn’t imagine not talking to her kids. That wasn’t something she wanted to outsource to a front desk.
Valentina swept her hair up into a ponytail. Clearly, the meeting was almost over because she was getting ready for the next thing. “It sounds like Inner-G assumes everyone will follow its no-phone rule and is not using jammers. We’re going to take advantage of this arrogance and supply you with sat phones to keep in contact. Several key locations have already been bugged, and ourliaison in the Azores will dead drop everything you need for the mission.”
“Isn’t it illegal to spy on American citizens? Is Genesis American?”
“Jasmine is conveniently Australian, and the resort is in Portuguese territory. We have a US citizen with potential knowledge of sensitive information who was possibly abducted and brought to a foreign nation. The jurisdiction is clear.” Valentina glanced at them. “You will be doing the primary data collection and liaising with an operative from the Portuguese Intelligence Service.”
Gabby normally had trouble following a television plot this complicated.
“Right now, I want you both to head down to the Disguises department.” Valentina raised an eyebrow. “Gabby, I’m guessing you don’t have any resort wear.”
“Resort wear?”
“Exactly.” Valentina turned back to her computer. “I have to get back to work. You two get your wardrobe straightened out.”
Gabby hadn’t been to the Disguises department since she had transformed into Darcy. Darcy hadn’t been a bombshell, but she’d had better hair than Gabby and didn’t wear sweatpants and Crocs every day. Her original Darcy makeover had been life-changing. Sometimes it takes the CIA to get you out of your sad clothes.
Tina welcomed her into the department. “Gabby! You’re back.” Before she had a chance to respond, Tina said, “So I was thinking we’d give you a little hair refresher, and obviously, you’re going to need a mani/pedi.”
That normally would have sent a wave of pleasure through her, but today she couldn’t. “I don’t know if I have time for all of that. I have a lot of errands, and I haven’t even told the kids I’m leaving.”
“Sit down, Gabby. You need a manicure. It’s a matter of national security.”
Gabby relented. Who knew the CIA had a manicure department?
After a trim, a color refresh, and a gloss, Tina said, “Seriously, did you think you could go on mission with an inch of roots? Keeping you looking good is my job.”
Gabby relaxed and let Tina take control.
“You’re done with bangs.”
She swallowed a laugh. “Whatever you say.”
“They’re pretty much grown out.”
After an hour of getting her hair washed, dyed, and blown out into the perfect style, Gabby was starting to feel like nothing mattered. It would all be fine. Snacks? Who cared. Pharmacy? Why did she need to go again? Fake marrying Markus? Whatever.
Dante, on wardrobe, entered the room with a flourish. “Now for resort wear.”
Gabby gave Dante a wave and smiled blissfully. She couldn’t care less what he packed for her.
“I’m sending you with several evening looks, about ten swimsuits, some cover-ups, and espadrilles.”
“Swimsuits?” The icy hand of fear clenched her chest and constricted her breathing. She sat up in her chair. Not a swimsuit. No. There was no way. A dress with shapewear underneath was as far as she was willing to go. She would rather take on the Russian Mafia again.
Dante put a hand on his hip and looked down his nose. “Of course you need swimsuits.”
