Undercover

"Clarissa Hathaway." It was the cover name she'd been supplied with by the agency, close enough to her own name that she would be able to respond to it for the short amount of time she was scheduled to be there. She didn't imagine she'd be using it much, however, given the fact mailgirls were known only by number.

The lobby security guard peered at the cleverly manufactured ID, then back up at Claire's face. "Miss Hathaway here to see Madame Henckel," he intoned into his intercom before looking back at her. "She'll be down in a few to escort you up."

"Thank you," Claire said with more compunction than she actually felt as she slipped her ID back into her pocketbook and stepped to the side of the lobby desk to await her chaperone. This gave her a little bit of time to reflect on the circumstances which had brought her to this point, for what seemed like the billionth time in the past two weeks.

She'd gotten the email from Grimes and shot straight out of her seat and nearly ran the eighty feet to his office. "Claude Basara," she said breathlessly, standing in Grimes' doorway. "We're going after The Butcher."

Grimes hadn't looked up from his paperwork, his ever-creased forehead furrowed in deep thought. "Operation has been authorized, but there's still a lot of prep needed before we go all in." He gestured to a folder on his desk.

Claire moved into his office, shutting the door behind her before sitting down and reaching for the folder. "I almost didn't think one would be greenlit," she said, flipping through the dossier. "Not with Basara holed up in UEWA."

He grunted. "It almost didn't," he replied, finally looking at her. "He's still there and shows no signs of moving."

She frowned. The United Emirate of Western Arabia was a perfect sanctuary for a rich expat like Claude Basara, who sought to escape extradition by establishing legitimate business in a foreign nation. His extensive American criminal record meant nothing to the UEWA, not with the amount of money he was bringing into the country. He was untouchable as long as he never set foot back into the United States, a prospect which seemed to suit him just fine. "So what's our angle?" Claire asked.

"Not bag 'em and tag 'em, that's for sure. This one we're in for the long haul." Grimes steepled his fingers in front of his face, studying the young woman seated in front of him. "Have to know you're up for it, no matter what the cost."

For someone like Claire, who had fought for everything she'd achieved, only to be held back by the bureaucracy and male-dominated hierarchy that still pervaded the clandestine intelligence community, being assigned to such a dangerous case was the opportunity she was looking for to prove her mettle. "I'm up for it, Grimes. You know that."

He studied her for a few long moments before pushing another folder over to her. "This is how we get close to Basara." When Claire reached for it, he held it down before she could pull it towards her. "You can say no, just want to tell you upfront. But if you commit, there's no turning back. We only get one shot at this."

Claire's frown deepened, but her curiosity was piqued. She could think of only a few circumstances in which she would say no to a chance like this, but she knew Grimes wouldn't have said it if it wasn't something he meant. "What is it?"

"See for yourself," he replied, releasing the folder from underneath his fingertips.

She opened it and began reading. Her dark eyebrows gradually crept up her forehead as her blue eyes scanned the pages, absorbing the information. "Mailgirls?" she blurted after a few minutes, looking back up at Grimes. "This is really our play?"

He nodded, his face implacable. "Brass thought it would be the best way to get into his network undetected. His buildings in the UEWA are all staffed by mailgirls and he's looking to hire. They say his vetting process is extremely thorough, but you haven't had enough skin in the game long enough to be on his radar just yet."

Grimes' assessment was cold and clinical, as always, but that didn't stop Claire's mind from reeling. The CIA's best play to getting close to a dangerous international fugitive was to strip her naked and have her deliver interoffice correspondence. It was laughably implausible on its face, but here she was, seriously contemplating it as the next step in her career. "How does this even work out? What's the endgame?"

"Like I said, it's a long term operation. You know how they go, Holliday. Recon first, then reassessment and reprioritization." Grimes' voice remained gruff, impassive. He was looking into her eyes, which Claire had always given him credit for, as so many of her coworkers tended to let their gazes drift over the rest of her body. "Basic vital information is there, but you'll get the full rundown if and when you commit."

She exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. "How long do I have to think?"

He leaned back in his seat. "Brass wants to get moving on this ASAP. Window to fill the spots in Basara's company doesn't stay open long. I'd say you have tonight to think about it. Need your decision by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow."

Staring at him for a few moments more, Claire flipped the folder closed and rose out of her seat. "You'll have it."