Page 17 of The Society (Spy Girl 3)
"How were you able to get DNA from our mother?"
"It was brilliant really," Olivia states. "We were able to have DNA extracted from the envelope she left you in the safety deposit box in Zurich. When she licked the envelope to close it, she left DNA. The question now is, who is your father?"
"And I think I have that covered, too. Ari said there were earbuds in the shooting range at the DC home and that they were labeled as Ares's. If no one else has used them, we just might be able to determine the truth."
I take a deep breath. "Did you tell Ari yet?"
"Not yet. We're actually here on official business. I just handed off a packet to William Gallagher about the money man. He's been tough to find, even knowing his name. The guy lives in the shadows, but Pla--I mean, Olivia here finally tracked him down through a bunch of shell corporations. MI-6 will use that data to figure out how best to get to the man."
"Intrepid is here?" I ask, realizing I'm excited that I might get to work with him again.
"Well, at least, he was," Olivia says.
I see Peter directing a steward back with a bucket of champagne and know we don't have much time.
"Olivia, I'm wondering if you are able to hack into Langley."
She rubs her hands together. "Now, you're talking."
"So, yes?"
"What do you need?" she asks, still not committing.
"I want to know everything the CIA has on Blake and Charlotte Cassleberry as well as Ares Von Allister. Peter's dad told me that he was under constant government scrutiny. I'd like to know why."
"You got it," she and Terrance say in unison.
Then Terrance leans forward and whispers, "The money man is as bad as they come. Think twice before you go after him."
I want to ask him why, but Peter is in front of us, handing out flutes.
A short time later, I excuse myself to use the loo, hoping to find Intrepid.
"Welcome to my country," he says, taking my hand and kissing it in greeting, as if we've never been here at the same time before.
"It's nice to see you, William," I say politely.
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he asks.
"I'm supposed to attend the Royal Ascot races over the next few day. I'll even be wearing a hat."
"Perfect. My team is putting together a plan for intercepting the man who paid The Priest. We'll be in the underbelly of the world, and the only way we can possibly catch him is to use you as bait."
"Like a honeypot operation? Am I supposed to pretend to seduce this man so as to catch him off guard?"
"Not exactly," he says cryptically. "I'm still hoping to find an alternate solution because I'm not at all happy with the current plan. I just can't put you in that much danger."
"You saw me in action, Gallagher."
"Yeah, that's what scares me." And then he's gone.
As I'm walking back to my seat from the tented area outside, I hear someone yelling my name. I turn to see the British lads Ari and I met in Montrovia. They are all dressed in impeccable British fashion, but they have their ties loosened and are throwing back pints, based on the table littered with empties.
"Hey, boys," I say, sauntering over to them.
I'm greeted with hugs and kisses from everyone, except Wesley, who keeps glancing around, looking nervous.
I kiss both his cheeks and then whisper, "Are you married?"
He lets out a big sigh like he was holding his breath. "Bloody hell, no."
"So then, you have a girlfriend you didn't tell me about, she's here with you, and you are freaking out."
"Yeah, a little."
The boys all boo and tell him he's wet and a wuss.
I grab the pint out of Wesley's hand, chug a bit of it down, slam it on the table, and then hold out my hands. "All right, you lads, it's time you knew the truth about Wesley and me."
They hoot and holler like I'm about to give them all the dirty details.
"While I did leave with the cocky lad, I'm afraid nothing happened between us. Nary even a kiss. If you recall, he was quite sloshed. He lay on the bed and promptly passed out."
"Bullocks," Wesley says.
"Do you recall anything other than that?" I ask.
He narrows his eyes at me. "I do recall waking up to you in my bed. And I recall you not being fully dressed."
"Do any of you happen to remember what I was wearing that night?"
"Oh, I do," the redhead says. "It was that pink number. Little bands of fabric." He stops speaking and motions with his hands across his own body to show which parts the bands were covering.
"It was couture and fully beaded as well. If I had slept in it, it would have been ruined. It was late. I didn't want to call my driver, so I took off my dress and simply slept there."
"But, the next morning, you acted like something had happened between us."
"You were severely hungover. I was just being nice."
This brings a chorus of riotous laughter.
"That's so wicked," one of the boys says. "Wesley has felt utterly guilty for weeks."
"Well, you did invite me back to your place," I say, not completely letting him off the hook. "If I were your girlfriend, that wouldn't have made me very happy. But I won't tell if you won't."
"And what happens in Montrovia stays in Montrovia," the rest of the group chimes in.
"And what exactly happened in Montrovia that needs to stay there?" a voice says from behind us.
The boys' eyes all get huge, wondering who caught them discussing it.
I turn around and come face-to-face with a young British girl of about sixteen, clad in a knit lilac dress that hugs her body in a way that makes her look much older.
"Bloody hell, Isla," Wesley s
ays. Then he turns to me and says, "Huntley Von Allister, meet my sister, Isla Windsor."
"It's nice to meet you."
"Did you meet my brother and his band of merry misfits in Montrovia?"
"Yes, I was in town for the race."
"And what happened there that these idiots don't want their girlfriends knowing about?"
"Well, there was some gambling," I say with a smirk. "And there was some drinking. But, as far as what they don't want their girlfriends to know, that's easy. They were referring to the fact that we didn't go to the prince's party."
Isla looks aghast. "Why ever not?"
"Because they told me it would be boring."
"But you could have met the prince of Montrovia! He's so handsome! And, now, he's, like, the king!"
"I had already met him. We're actually very good friends," I mention.
Her hand goes to her mouth. "Oh my word. You're her!"
"Yeah, I am."
Wesley takes charge, shooing his sister away. "You just made her life," he tells me.
"Awesome. Well, it was nice seeing you all. I need to get back in there."
"Who are you here with?" Wesley asks.
"Peter Prescott."
"Are you dating him, too?"
"No. Lorenzo was supposed to be here but had some business to attend to. I've never been before, so Peter offered to be my escort for the day."
"Now that my sister and her friends know you are here, you'll probably need a bodyguard." Wesley laughs.
Doubtful, I think.
"Do you have plans for dinner?" Peter asks me when the matches are over.
Terrance and Olivia left long ago, hopefully back to their computers to start hacking for information.
"I'm supposed to meet up with Lorenzo. I have no idea what kind of plans he has made, but you're welcome to join us."
"That's all right. I was thinking of going back to the country tonight, but Allie is still hungover. Or so she says. She might just want to be alone with your brother."
"Does that bother you?"
"Not in the least. I actually got invited to a little get-together tonight. I'd like to go, but I didn't want to just ditch you."
"I appreciate that. I thought I would stay at Lorenzo's tonight. I assume we'll just helicopter out to the Royal Ascot race tomorrow."
"Sounds like a plan. I have a driver picking us up. Why don't I drop you off at his place first?"
"That would be great."
