I was unfamiliar with this section of the city. Wisconsin Avenue cut through the upscale district of Georgetown and provided a variety of shopping options as well as tasteful restaurants and clubs, depending on what form of entertainment you were looking for. But when it came to choices to confront someone following me – well those were not so great. I did a quick assessment of my options and found they were limited to only two. A crowded outdoor restaurant or a noisy nightclub. I opted for the club where the music could be heard for blocks away. Should I be forced to subdue my stalker there would be less likelihood of anyone taking notice of a physical confrontation should it come to that.

Three hours had now passed since the caller identifying himself as my long-lost brother had asked me to meet him in this area of the city next to the restaurant. I’d been standing in this particular spot for more than an hour searching the sea of faces without making contact with anyone. I was beginning to believe this had all been a set-up. I glanced at my watch. It was well after midnight and time to call an end to this quest and find out if the man following me might be involved.

Electricity was one of those clubs where young people went to be seen more than anything. Tonight all the beautiful people were there arrayed in the latest fashions. Places like this were famous amongst the college kids.

I forced aside my trained law enforcement instincts that told me there was drug use in the club as I made my way across the crowd of twenty-somethings gyrating around Electricity’s tiny dance-floor. To my right, I spotted the back entrance of the club and headed towards it, hoping the immaculately dressed man following me would do the same. I was in luck. He took the bait.

Why was someone like him following me in the first place? Had he discovered my connection to The Agency? It was a distinct possibly considering the information we’d recently uncovered. But if this were the case -- why me? Why not one of the other Agency members, or more specially, why not Roc our commander?

I stepped out into the muggy D.C. night and slipped along the edge of the wall, flattening myself into its shadowed parts. Instinctively, I reached inside my jacket for my weapon, tossing my handbag aside. The second he walked through the door I had him.

"Freeze...FBI -- that’s far enough." I commanded, immediately catching him off his guard. He stopped half way out the door, searching the shadows until he spotted my weapon.

I allowed myself a second to assess the situation. The man appeared to be somewhere in his mid-thirties, and extremely well dressed for what I believed his true identity to be -- a member of the Freedom and Liberation for America, one of the most elite terrorist cells operating within the U.S. borders. It occurred to me that I wasn’t afraid of him, which surprised me because in the past there was always an element of fear involved in every one of my encounters with the FLA.

He was handsome in a certain polished sort of way. I sized him up to be just a little over six foot tall, and around one eighty to one ninety in weight. Straight, blond hair swept away from his face to reveal startling blue eyes. Definitely not your typical ground force terrorist, so what was he doing out in the field, and more importantly why was he following me? For the moment, I let that question go. My main concern was learning his identity.

I took a step closer, forcing him further away from the door and out of range of any curiosity seekers who might be interested in our little exchange before kicking the door shut behind us.

A quick pat down didn’t produce any form of ID, but it did reveal he carried a Glock, the standard weapon of choice among many government agents.

I tucked the weapon behind my back in the waistband of my jeans and moved cautiously in front of him so the only light, a stark exterior bulb, shown directly into his eyes while I remained hidden in the shadows.

"What’s you’re name?" When he simply smiled at my question I prodded, "Okay -- start talking. You have exactly five seconds to tell me why you’re following me. Who sent you?" I leveled my weapon at his chest and began counting, "One..." As much as I wanted to question him about my brother, I didn’t dare. Not until I found out whom he was working for.

"You won’t shoot me," He replied confidently until I took out my cuffs and stepped close enough for him to feel the weapon’s barrel against his chest.

"Turn around." When he made no move to obey my command, I reached for his right arm, and forced it quickly behind his back, taking him off guard, he fell back against the wall. I’d rendered helpless. I snapped the cuffs into place and then turned him back around so that I could watch his expression as I questioned him.

"Are you out of your mind?" He forced the words out through clenched teeth. His voice held a hint of an accent. It took me a second to place it. I’d say he’d lived somewhere in the Middle East at one time or another, possibly Saudi Arabia. But the blond hair and blue eyes certainly wouldn’t place him there.

"Two..."

"You’re making a huge mistake," He said when he realized I wasn’t kidding.

"Let’s try this again shall we," I ignored his outburst entirely and continued with my questioning. "Who are you and why are you following me? And I’d suggest you think about your answers very carefully because you’re running out of time. You have exactly three seconds left before I call for backup and take you in for official questioning." My gaze slid over his tall, albeit slightly yuppie good looks. If I were to meet him on the street under different circumstances, I would figure him to be just your normal well-to-do success story.

From the cut of his dark gray business suit, right down to the four hundred dollar pair of shoes, he exuded success. There was no way anyone would ever mistake him for evil...until it was too late. I found my gaze drawn to his ice blue eyes. They didn’t necessarily possess the cunning of a cold-bloodied killer.

"What makes you think I was following you? What makes you think I’m not just your average Joe out for a good time?" When my arched brow revealed my skepticism he added, "Maybe I wanted to meet you? You are a very attractive woman after all."

I reached for my cell phone he added, "I really wouldn’t suggest that you do that, Rainie McClain."

The fact that he knew my name threw me for a moment. But then, he would have come prepared for tonight.

"You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Rainie and we both know you aren’t acting on any authority but your own here tonight. Otherwise, this place would be crawling with agents by now."

I ignored his outburst and identified myself to the dispatcher.

"This is Special Agent Rainie McClain with the FBI. I need assistance in transporting a prisoner sent immediately to the intersection of M Street NW and the 1200 Block of Wisconsin Avenue NW in the alley behind the club Electricity." I gave a brief run down of the situation and asked the officer to contact my commanding officer Roc Branson and ask him to meet me at FBI headquarters where I would be transporting my prisoner.

Within minutes, two uniform officers were pulling into the alley.

"Rainie, don’t do this...You don’t know who you’re dealing with." My stalker was still trying to reason with me.

"It’s too late. Whatever you have to say, you can save it for interrogation." I turned to the two officers, addressing the taller of the two -- a young man with a crop of bright orange hair. "I need you to take him to headquarters and don’t engage him in conversation. I’ll follow." The officer glanced questioningly to his partner, a young Latino woman who barely looked old enough to be out of the academy.

"Yes ma’am." They said in unison. I watched as they loaded my clearly furious stalker into the back of their patrol car and headed slowly out of the alley, occasionally sounding their siren to clear their way.

I retrieved my Ford Expedition from the parking garage a few blocks over and drove through crowded streets to J. Edgar Hoover Building at FBI Headquarters on Pennsylvania Avenue.

I arrived shortly after the patrol car and had just uncuffed my prisoner and begun the interrogation process when Ed Peyton the Deputy Director of the Bureau’s Anti-terrorism unit walked into the room followed by Roc.

"I’ll take it from here, Rainie." Ed ordered with little more than a glance in my direction.

"I beg your pardon?" Under the best of circumstances, it was hard for me to keep my dislike for Ed a secret, but when he simply waltzed into the middle of an interrogation and undermined my authority in front of a suspect, well I had to bite my tongue to keep my opinion to myself.

"I said I’m taking over the interrogation from here. What part of that didn’t you understand?" Ed’s steely eyes met mine, forcing me to my feet just to be on a somewhat more of an even playing field with the man who was Roc’s commander. I knew I couldn’t refuse a direct command, but I could at least attempt to argue my case.

"Rainie, can I see you outside for a second," Roc told me and didn’t wait for me to agree. He took my arm and pretty much forced me from the room.

Roc didn’t stop until we were half way out of the building. Then he turned me to face him.

"What is he doing here?" I demanded. "Did you call him?"

"No, but someone certainly did. Rainie, what happened out there tonight?" Roc lowered his voice when he noticed several curious glances. "What were you doing in that part of city anyway?"

I’d known this would be his first question, just as I knew, I couldn’t tell him the truth.

"I wasn’t doing anything in particular -- I was just out okay." I saw right way that Roc didn’t believe me, but for the moment, he let it go.

"Why didn’t you call for backup when you suspected something was wrong?"

"I was a little too busy trying to keep from being killed!"

"Rainie," Roc wanted to say more but once he spotted my stubbornness, he gave in. "Look, you should probably get out of here before Ed has a chance to come looking for you and blow his top."

"I’m not going anywhere. Roc, we need to go back in there and help with the interrogation. Ed’s not used to talking to suspects of this man’s caliber. We can’t let him blow it."

"Rainie, that’s not possible."

"Why not?" I forced him to look me in the eye. "Why not, Roc?"

"Because, Ed’s beginning to get suspicious. You didn’t exactly follow procedure tonight, you know. He’s asking questions about the extent of our relationship. I think he’s beginning to suspect there might be more to it than just me being your commander."

"You think he knows about our marriage? How -– we’ve been so careful. No one knows but Mark."

"I don’t know, but do you really want to get into it with him tonight?"

"No, but Roc, I have a feeling this guy’s important. We can’t let Ed screw it up and let him go."

"Mark’s on his way. He’ll sit in. Let me take you home."

My first instinct was to refuse. I wanted to listen in on the interrogation but the thought of facing Ed Peyton’s suspicions tonight made my decision easy.

I waited next to Roc’s car while he spoke to Mark. There were moments in their conversation where it appeared to grow heated. I wondered if they were arguing about me again. After several curious glances my way, Mark went inside and Roc joined me.

"He’ll want to talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"That’s all that was about? From the way you two were arguing I could have sworn it was more."

Roc drove through the crowded streets in silence. There were dozens of questions going through his mind, but he wouldn’t ask them tonight. Although Roc was my commanding officer, he was also my husband. The man I’d fallen in love with three years earlier and married without ever questioning our future together.

He stopped outside of my apartment complex and turned to me, "Let me stay with you tonight, Rainie."

More than anything, I wanted to be with him tonight not as a fellow agent but as his wife. But there were things in my apartment I didn’t want Roc knowing about. Things like the message on my recorder that brought me out tonight I hadn’t bothered to erase.

"No,"

"Rainie..."

"No, I mean not here. Let’s go to your place instead. It feels more like home"

Roc didn’t ask the question he wanted to. Instead, he put the car in gear and drove north to the quiet Brightwood Park neighborhood where Roc and I had first accepted our relationship was more than just a passing, physical affair. We’d tried to end it so many times in the beginning, but we always came back to each other, because nothing, not even The Agency and its rules could stop us from falling in love.

                            ***

"You should try to get some sleep," Roc told me once he closed the door and we stood facing each other in that awkward silence I’d become accustomed to as of late.

Although he was right, sleep was the last thing I wanted. My thinking process felt disjointed – my thoughts spinning in a million different directions. Why wasn’t Roc showing the usual signs of being furious with me? After all, by now he had to know there was a very real chance the man called Doren was FLA.

"What aren’t you telling me?" I asked. "You know who this guy was so why aren’t we both down there right with Mark? This isn’t like you,"

"Not like me? Rainie, you could have gotten yourself killed tonight. Do you even realize that? Can’t you let it go?"

The expression on his face told me all of his fears. My brush with death had shaken him. It should have shaken me as well. I went into his arms and held him close.

"Roc, I’m sorry. I know you were worried and I’m sorry." His arm tightened around me painfully.

"I don’t want to talk about work tonight, okay? I just want to hold you and reassure myself that you are really safe." I knew he wasn’t simply talking about the physical dangers I’d faced tonight, but I couldn’t face those demons just yet.

"Is that all you want to do?" I teased and felt his answering smile against my hair.

"No."

He held my waist and put me a little away from him, searching my eyes. This was the man I loved. My one and only love. My husband.

"Make love to me, Roc. Please, I don’t want to wait any longer. Make love to me."

"Oh my God, yes," His lips claimed mine and then he lifted me in his arms and carried me to our bed.

When I awoke early the following morning, I was alone in bed. The second I swung my feet over the side, the room around me begin to spin out of control.

With the morning light, the reality of what happened the night before settled in around me. I’d come close to dying and yet I was no closer to proving the man claiming to be my lost brother was anything more than someone trying to lure me out alone. Last night certainly hadn’t proved a thing.

As a familiar sense of nausea settled in, I closed my eyes, trying to will it away and finally abandoning all hope of that happening. I ran to the bathroom and closed the door to prevent Roc from hearing. No matter how much I tried to tell myself this was just reaction to recent events and fears, I knew differently. This wasn’t the first time I’d been sick. For weeks now, I’d felt this same sickness. I told myself it was just the thought of what lay ahead for me without Roc, but in my heart, I knew the truth.

I went downstairs and I found Roc in his study talking with Mark. The moment I walked into the room, both men stopped what they were talking about and turned to me.

"Rainie, I didn’t expect you up so soon," Roc got to his feet and kissed my cheek.

Mark was the only one of the team Roc trusted with knowing the truth about our relationship. Mark was a good friend, but even so, we were taking a huge risk by letting anyone in on our secret. Romantic relationships between Bureau members were a big no-no. But that hadn’t stopped us. We’d been attracted right from the start. We’d gotten married within months of sleeping together that first time. All very secretive.

Although most of the team suspected something was going on between us, we all pretty much honored the, don’t ask don’t tell policy.

Of course, this meant living separate lives for the world around us to see. Finding only a few precious moments together where we could be just another married couple. With Roc’s increased work assignments for the Bureau, which took him away from me for weeks at a time, those moments were becoming almost nonexistent anymore.

I still kept my apartment on Rosedale, and Roc had the house here in Brightwood Park. We lived separately.

And I hated the lies but I’d learned to tolerate our secret life because I loved Roc. I didn’t want to live without him in my life. Lately though, I found myself thinking about things like family and growing old together. Having more than just a few moments in secret as husband and wife. But as Roc was quick to point out, there could never be a normal life for us. We’d both chosen this path.

"Did you get anything useful out of the suspect from last night, Mark?" I asked and watched the two men exchange an unreadable look.

There had been something in the way the man emphasized my last name that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was almost as if he knew everything about me, including my marriage to Roc.

I had little doubt I would face this man again someday. It wasn’t over between us -- not by a long shot. I’d meet him again, no matter how desperate I was to get out of this game, because like it or not, we had unfinished business together.

And I would need to make a decision before that time came. I had to decide how I was going to manage to stay alive.

"Nothing useful has turned up just yet." Something in the way Mark said those words made me wonder what the two of them had been talking about before I came in.

"Really?" This surprised me. The Bureau had ways of getting information out of even the most dedicated of opponents. The Agency’s own Stevie Rodriguez came from a military background. He’d cut his teeth on this sort of thing during the first Gulf War.

"Are you sure? Because he definitely appeared to be someone of interest. Possibly someone high up in the ranks of the FLA."

Another curious exchange between the two men had me wondering what they weren’t telling me.

"Did you at least learn his identity?" I asked incredulously.

"His name is Doren Alderees, but I’m afraid he’s a dead end."

"A dead end? Are you sure."

"Positive. Look, if you’re feeling up to it, Rainie, I’d like to ask you some routine questions about last night – just for the record." Mark seemed a little too anxious to shift the conversation away from Doren Alderees. I wasn’t buying his explanation for a minute.

"Of course, Mark." I told him, growing suddenly nervous. I wiped my hands across the knees of my jeans. Roc would spot this gesture in a second and know exactly what it meant. After almost three years of marriage, he could interpret every single one of my signals by heart. I glanced his way and knew he’d seen it, but for the time being, he chose not to question me on this.

"Why were you in that particular area again," Mark who had begun flipping through his notes glanced up from his notes.

"As I told Roc last night, there was no particular reason. I was simply doing some shopping and enjoying the night."

Mark nodded, but Roc knew the truth. I wasn’t a shopper. In fact, I hated it. I did all of my Christmas shopping online last year.

"So when did you first become aware of the man following you? Was it before you reached Wisconsin Avenue?"

"Actually, I’d spotted him – Doren, once before but dismissed the incident until last night."

"You spotted him before and didn’t mention it?" Roc demanded.

My eyes slide between Roc and Mark before answering, "Yes, but he didn’t appear to be a threat at the time. I guess I wasn’t really concerned about him."

Roc managed to keep his opinion to this to himself with difficulty.

"What have you found out about Doren’s background?" My question made Mark uncomfortable. His gaze shot to Roc’s once more who took the lead from there.

"Rainie, this guy Doren -– he isn’t FLA."

I looked from Roc to Mark once more searching for some hint as to what they weren’t sharing. "You’re kidding right? Of course, he’s FLA."

"You’re mistaken, Rainie. He’s innocent." Roc told me quietly in a tone meant to discourage argument. Roc was speaking as my commander now. This wasn’t personal any longer.

"I’m not mistaken, Roc, I’m certain of it. Let me talk to him,"

"You can’t. We had to release him this morning. We had nothing to hold him on. He’s innocent, Rainie." Roc repeated.

"I don’t believe that for a minute."

"Rainie, he claims he met you at one of those fundraisers you’re always so fond of attending." Roc told me quietly.

"If I’d met him before last night I would have remembered him." Roc raised an eyebrow at this but kept his thoughts to himself.

"The guy’s story checked out, right down to the name of the fundraiser. He said he recognized you last night and so he followed you. Probably was hoping to get your number." Mark added, his glance sliding uncomfortably back to Roc.

"That’s preposterous. I’ve been doing this long enough to know when someone is trying to hit on me and when he’s trouble. This guy was trouble."

"You don’t have to get defensive, Rainie." The caution that entered Roc’s expression warned me to watch what I said next.

While Mark and Roc were good friends, they disagreed on many things. One was in allowing women to be a part of The Agency in the first place. You see, Mark was very old fashioned. He still saw a woman’s role in the Bureau as strictly administrative. He’d accepted Lissa the only other female member of our group, because she was Ed’s daughter and he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but when I’d come on board, Mark took one look me and figured –- dumb blond. It took me almost all three years with The Agency just to win the small amount of respect I’d managed to gain from him.

Roc told me he and Mark argued over our relationship a great deal in the beginning. Mark didn’t believe in mixing business with pleasure. He was probably right, considering the mess we’d made of our marriage.