Dangerous Illusion

Prologue

Zero Hour

The moon bathed the hospital in a silvery light, casting elongated shadows across sterile corridors. Occasional posters covered in Cyrillic script lined the walls, reminding anyone passing by to “Keep Quiet” and urging them to always “Fight for The Cause.” A lack of medical equipment, combined with the choking smell of antiseptics and bleach, unnervingly revealed the building’s true purpose.

Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti hidden behind the façade of safety and help.

Classic KGB bullshittery.

Valerie’s heart drummed a familiar rhythm against her rib cage. Her body still hummed in excitement along with the fluorescent lights that buzzed overhead. Everything so far had gone too smoothly. Almost unnervingly smooth. The loading bay door was left unlocked, the guard schedule lapsed for the five minutes she needed to get inside, and just like the intel supplied by an informant said, there was a convenient hiding place just before her goal. Ten minutes of slinking through winding hallways and up three flights of stairs, here she was crouched behind a crate of office supplies waiting for the perfect moment.

The near-total silence was occasionally punctuated by the shuffle of guards patrolling the building’s hallways. She adjusted her silenced pistol. Its weight on her hip was usually reassuring, but with what was at stake it held little comfort. After all, this was it. The final mission that would either jumpstart her legacy—or shatter her dreams.

All of it hinged on the next few moves.

“You’ve been training for this, just a little more.” She muttered a last-minute pep talk under slow, controlled breaths as she peered around the corner. A lone guard slouched lazily against the wall next to the entrance to the laboratory, rifle resting against his side instead of at the ready. Sloppy, but he only needed to get one shot off for this to go to shit. Valerie held her breath as she tuned into the sounds around her—the soft rustle of fabric, the muffled footsteps echoing away from her down the corridor to her left.

If she was quick, she could do this before anyone even noticed she was here.

With practiced ease, she crept forward, footsteps silent against the cracked tile floor. Each movement was measured, and the shadows were her allies as she approached the guard unseen. She carefully watched the slight rise and fall of his chest. He was awake but oblivious to the danger lurking in the darkness. She pulled a pen from her pocket and tossed it down the hall opposite hers.

“Bad move,” she quipped under her breath the moment the guard turned.

Valerie lunged forward, wrapping her arm around his neck from behind in a vice grip. It took longer than she wanted, but she continued squeezing until his struggles faded into unconsciousness.

She dragged him into the supply room, her muscles straining under the weight of his body. “Jesus, lay off the borscht,” she muttered as she shoved him into a locker behind a stack of boxes, praying he wouldn’t be found until it was far too late.

But every mission had a hitch or two. And the first one hit as soon as the locker door clicked shut.

A flash of movement caught her eye. Another guard—this one much more alert—and a hell of a lot bigger.

He approached quickly, flashlight in hand cutting through the darkness of the supply room. Her body tensed for a split second as the beam of light hit her face.

Shit.

“You there!” he shouted angrily, setting Valerie’s instincts alight.

Her gaze flicked to anything around her that could take him down quickly, eyes locking onto a paper cutter. In one swift motion, she dashed, grabbed the cutter, and threw it with all her might. The guard dropped instantly as it hit him in the face, his expression still frozen in surprise.

She couldn’t help but smile as a rush of excitement surged through her. There’d be hell for that move later, but that was a problem for Future Valerie. A version of herself that hopefully left here as a hero in the making, not a failure on the Agency’s list.

She dashed down the hall into the laboratory, the door closing behind her with a loud click. It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for the guards, but she planned to be long gone before then.

The smell of various chemicals and the faint whir of machines filled the air. Her eyes darted around, scanning for her target. It was a simple briefcase, but one that held the intel she desperately needed to change the tide of the Cold War if her briefing was to be believed. It sat alone on a metal table in the corner of the room, its exterior worn and scratched, as if it had seen many owners and even more battles.

It seemed too easy, too perfectly placed for her to grab and leave.

Valerie approached cautiously, her heart pounding loud enough to fill her ears. She flipped the latches, chest clenching as she lifted the case lid. Inside, a collection of documents and a film roll gleamed under the fluorescent lights. This was it—the key to unraveling the network that had plagued her for months. She snatched the briefcase, tucked it under her arm, and turned to leave with a renewed sense of pride.

A blaring alarm pierced the stillness, flashing red lights cast an ominous glow over the room.

“Shit!” she hissed, adrenaline flooding her system.

She knew two things: guards would be swarming the area any second, and if she acted quickly, she could still pull this off. She bolted for the door, stopping at the echoes of rapidly approaching footsteps. That left only two other exits—the window or the air ducts.

And something told her a fall from the fourth floor was out of the question.

Without wasting another second, she sprinted to the table where the case had been, planted her foot on the edge, turned, and jumped at the ductwork overhead. Her pulse hammered as she narrowly missed the grate. She took a deep breath, focused, and tried again, managing to grab on this time. The grate opened with minimal coaxing as she swung back down.

The sound of the guards grew louder. They’d be on top of her any minute now. She threw the suitcase into the opening with less than perfect precision, only barely controlling the urge to celebrate as it landed inside with a thud. There wasn’t time to celebrate, barely even time to try covering her tracks.

Valerie threw a chair through the window, hoping it’d at least buy her a few minutes before making one last jump and hoisting herself into the ceiling.

The duct was cramped and miserable, and the rough metal scraped her palms as she scrambled into the narrow space. She just managed to close the grate as the guards broke into the lab. Shouts reverberated through the ducts with confusion and urgent calls for backup. She relaxed slightly as a guard worriedly exclaimed he couldn’t believe she’d jumped out the window.

At least the briefcase slid easily as she pushed it forward across the metal, doing her best to not make too much noise as she crawled for what felt like hours.

Finally, after two drops and more than a few turns later, she spotted a grate leading outside the building. Cool night air whispered promises of freedom that she craved. With some uncomfortable repositioning and a swift kick, she dislodged it, cringing at the sound of it loudly clattering below, almost hearing her chances of escape falling with it.

Valerie paused, listening for any sign of the guards being alerted to her position.

Silence greeted her warmly and after a few extra heartbeats passed, she held the briefcase close and dropped down onto the soft earth. The forest loomed before her; a dark expanse filled with the scent of pine and practically no visibility. She glanced back at the hospital, seeing the beams of light flitting in the windows. The guards were still searching for her inside. They must have thought she’d doubled back. Nice, but she still couldn’t stay here.

Valerie dashed into the trees, the underbrush crunching beneath her boots as she navigated the dense foliage. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed herself as hard as she could.

Faster, come on! her thoughts screamed as she rushed on, weaving between the trunks.

Her heart raced painfully, but she kept moving until she spotted an old stone perimeter wall. Without hesitation, she threw the briefcase over it and climbed up after it. Her fingers dug into the crumbling surface, palms pressing into the mossy overgrowth, muscles screaming in protest as she mantled over the top.

Landing gracefully on the other side, she finally paused, leaned back, and let the night air fill her lungs. Her breaths came out ragged and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she could hardly make out anything around her.

“Time!” a man’s voice called from the shadows, smooth and deep. Valerie spun around, instincts suddenly back on full alert, as she unholstered her pistol and aimed, ready to face whatever threat awaited her.

A tall figure in a tailored suit stepped forward, emerging from the darkness, a grin playing on his lips. She hesitated for a beat, assessing the man before her. His demeanor was poised and confident, and he had an air of authority about him, one that spoke of vast experience and the dangerousness that comes with it.

But he wasn’t a threat to her. Not after the last twenty-two months of his instruction.

“Congratulations, Bradley,” he said, extending a hand as she lowered her gun. A glimmer of respect glinted in his eyes after months of trying to get her instructor to remember her name. “You’ve finished your final test.”

She shook his hand, throwing the last bit of her strength into her grip.

The excitement of the mission faded into the background. What replaced it was a new kind of anticipation—a future filled with the promise of uncertainty, danger, and a world beyond the shadows. One on which she was going to leave her mark—or die trying.

Chapter 1

Clean Slate

Valerie adjusted her sunglasses as the summer sun glared down off the towering, almost fortresslike structure of the CIA headquarters, austere windows reflecting the clear blue Virginia sky. Too much caffeine and an underfed nicotine addiction mingled with the ever-present nervousness that had destroyed her sleep and wracked her waking moments for the last few weeks. She fought the smile that came with the pride blossoming in her chest.

“Prim. Proper. Professional,” she murmured, forcing her shoulders to relax. She had repeated the mantra so many times today that it was starting to feel alien to her. When the mantra didn’t fully squash her anxiety, Valerie took a deep breath, letting it all sink in.

History in the making surrounded her. She wasn’t just on the precipice of greatness, but now part of it. Was this how greats like Mata Hari and Virginia Hall felt before being immortalized in history books? Maybe. Or maybe they never realized it, just doing their jobs and making certain the mission succeeded.

She straightened and strode toward the entrance, heart thudding in her chest, grip tightening on her grandfather’s old, worn leather briefcase. Last chance. Could throw away the last three years and go back to Seattle.

She dismissed her thoughts and smoothed her blazer before opening the glass front door.

The lobby’s polished marble floors echoed with measured footsteps and hushed conversations. A large CIA logo shone brightly in the center of the floor, making her feel small as it left her in awe. To the rear, stars stood out against the stark white walls, framed as a shrine to those who gave the final sacrifice for the greater good.

An A-frame board to the right of the display welcomed “The Classes of 1975.” Valerie was a little amused at the single balloon attached to the sign. It beckoned her as if this were a high school reunion instead of an orientation for spies. She only hoped this would be more exciting than her actual reunion as she followed the signs to a large meeting room. The heels of her loafers clicked against the tile like a metronome counting down to her new future.

The auditorium buzzed with recruits, eager faces, and anxious glances. A pang of loneliness hit her. Part of her wished she hadn’t focused so heavily on training and had spent time getting to know them. She barely remembered the names of anyone, all practically strangers save saying “Good Morning” to them once or twice on The Farm.

Not for the first time, Valerie noticed how few women there were here. It was a male-dominated field, but the fact she was one of three women in the two combined classes still came as a shock. A proverbial sea of men looked like poster children for protein supplements and spy movies.

She scanned the crowd for an open seat, briefly catching the eyes of a redheaded woman who caught her off guard with an unsubtle wink. She definitely would remember if they had met before. No dice on a seat by her, though.

Valerie grabbed a seat near the front just as a broad-shouldered man with a chiseled jaw and an authoritative air strode to the podium. The chatter dwindled, giving way to tense silence as his gaze swept across the room. He assessed the recruits with a piercing intensity like he was a general surveying his troops.

“Good morning.” His voice was deep and unwavering, silencing the audience instantly as he spoke. “I am Deputy Director James Hargrove, and it is my honor to welcome you to the Central Intelligence Agency. You are here because you have taken an oath to serve and protect our nation. An oath to defend its people, and to safeguard the values of this land from threats its citizens will never know existed. This is no ordinary job. The work you do here will not be easy. There will be long days and even longer nights. You will be asked to navigate the murky waters of deception on a daily basis. And your families will never know of the great work you do here, but they will know of the sacrifices you make.”

Valerie leaned forward with her knee bouncing, absolutely captivated by the thought of the journey she was undertaking. Each word he spoke hung heavily in the air, etching itself into her mind.

She glanced around to gauge the crowd’s reaction. Serious stares, bored yawns, a few people scribbling in notepads, but no actual excitement. It would be disheartening if she weren’t so sure they were wrong. This was the start of the most exciting part of their lives, and she was ready for it.

Deputy Director Hargrove’s tone shifted, electrifying her atmosphere. “You will encounter situations that will test your morals, your loyalty, and your courage. You will be asked to deceive, and at times, to kill for our great country. Lives will depend on your ability to perform under seemingly insurmountable pressure. You will be asked to make decisions that would break a lesser man, but this is a burden that we all take on to keep our way of life safe.”

He paused and scanned the crowd, a smile growing on his face.

“Remember this: success is rarely about glory. It’s about vigilance. It’s about collaboration and discipline. And above all, it’s about trust—trust in your training, and trust in the values we uphold. Enemies are everywhere. Never drop your guard, and be careful who you let into your life outside these walls. You are amongst the elite of the elite—failure will never be an option, and death is always a possibility.

“Welcome to something far greater than yourself. Your country is counting on you, and we have every confidence that you are ready to rise to the challenge. Go forth with this in your mind, ‘And ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.’”

Valerie broke into a wide grin, fresh excitement thrumming through her body. Everything felt real as the people around Valerie applauded. In these hallowed halls of Langley, resolve ignited within her. And with each passing second, she grew more ready to face whatever awaited her.

* * *

Quiet laughter and conversation began to pour in from the hallway as the auditorium cleared, cliques she saw in passing during training reforming. Some things never changed.

Valerie lingered behind, watching the others leave. The director’s words now weighed on her. This truly wasn’t an ordinary job, and regardless of how many reports she would have to write, missions she would be sent on, or bad guys she took down—she’d never be able to have an everyday life again.

She really wished she had taken time to make at least one friend. Hell, even a name to go with a familiar face would be nice.

The auditorium doors swung shut, leaving her in the hushed space. Her mind grew heavy with the thoughts of what lay ahead. Thoughts of infiltrating enemy lines, gathering intelligence, and the probably childish thought that her choices could alter the course of history. Still, it all beckoned her the same as it did years ago, even as old doubts crept in.

She was good enough for this.

Right?

She’d worked hard to be here. Studied her ass off for four years to get her degree, spent three years working late nights with the Seattle Police Department, even took every extra patrol to demonstrate her reliability just to get to this point. After being cut off from her friends and family for months to make it through the rigorous training of the CIA, she should be certain that she would be okay going forward.

But the thought of just being “okay” was what made her pause. This wasn’t the minor leagues—the people around her were the real deal. Everyone worked just as hard to be here and had just as much to prove as she did. Rivals as much as they were colleagues.

It was her personal prerogative to carve out her legacy here, and that meant being even better than she had been before. Even with everything she had done, she still needed to be better than the agents around her.

“Hey.” A bright voice startled Valerie.

The short, red-haired woman from earlier approached her from down an aisle of chairs. She was memorable, to say the least. A black pantsuit with a red plaid shirt underneath, sharp features, and a swagger in her step that screamed, “Try me.” To top it all off, she was short, barely coming to Valerie’s shoulder.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” The woman’s faint Southern accent honeyed the words.

Valerie returned a small, sheepish smile. She always hated getting caught in her head. “Just…processing everything, I guess. Lots to take in.”

The woman chuckled, her bright-blue eyes almost glinting in the fluorescent lighting. “Welcome to the overwhelmed club.” She casually extended her hand. “Name’s Jenna. I’ll be workin’ in the financial analysis department. Place certainly has a way of makin’ you feel like you’re in a spy novel, don’t it?”

“Yeah, it sure does.” Valerie shook Jenna’s hand a tad too firmly given Jenna’s grimace before the woman broke into a slightly feral smirk as she let go. “I’m Valerie. Field Collections Officer as of today.”

Jenna shifted her weight back, crossing her arms. “Pleasure to meet you, Valerie. I hope you’re ready for the challenge.” Her eyes slowly, and openly crawled over Valerie’s figure. “Though I imagine you’re definitely able to hold your own.”

Valerie nodded, feeling a faint flush on her cheeks from Jenna’s intensity. “I didn’t come this far to back down.”

“That makes two of us.” Jenna practically beamed. “Let’s see how you hold up when the ‘real shit hits,’ as my brother would say. Come on, let’s get going before the next briefing starts.”

Jenna started toward the exit, and a simmer of determination bubbled under Valerie’s skin. They made it out of the auditorium and building, and by the time the warm sunlight poured over them, that bubbling turned into a roar.

* * *

Two hours later, Valerie was metaphorically trapped in a cavernous meeting room, hands resting against the cold wood of the large conference table. The walls were adorned with what passed for artwork, along with the occasional framed poster warning against Soviet aggression. Her high-backed chair creaked as she shifted restlessly, a sound that unfortunately echoed through the room.

The Field Agent Orientation she had just attended was…mildly overwhelming. There were enough acronyms and jargon to make her head spin, to the point it was a small blessing when the senior agent who led the meeting had been called away halfway through the presentation. It gave her mind a chance to not overheat.

An extended lunch break was called when he couldn’t return, leaving Valerie feeling like the new kid in school as she made her way to the cafeteria.

The aroma of brewed coffee and greasy cafeteria food hit her, a stark contrast to the sterile atmosphere that filled the rest of the Agency. Clusters of agents engaged in animated conversations, all looked like seasoned veterans who had seen the world through the lens of a sniper scope before being recruited to join the Agency. Their confidence radiated from them like a heat wave, and the chill of self-doubt crept up Valerie’s spine. Still, she straightened her shoulders, determined to push through the unease. She scanned the tables, searching for one less threatening face, like Jenna’s, to join.

Luck didn’t seem to be on her side today.

Prim. Proper. Professional. Show no fear.

She settled on a table with a few agents who looked about her age, hoping that was her in. She hated introductions, of all the things she had to be bad at, the universe chose saying “Hello” the first time as what would do her in. Infiltrating buildings, firearm drills, hell, even learning to resist torture techniques came easier than breaking the ice ever did. Her heart pounded a little too loudly for comfort, but she looked confident. Or at least, she hoped she looked confident.

“Hi, I’m Valerie.” Her voice barely rose above the clatter of trays and conversations surrounding her. But the trio looked up. Unfortunately, their expressions were a mixture of annoyance and indifference.

A tall man with a hawkish nose and sharp eyes raised an eyebrow. “You’re a newbie, right?” he asked flatly.

“Uh, yeah. Just had orientation today,” Valerie replied, her words stumbling over one another. “I’m in the—”

“Doesn’t matter.” His chuckle was dismissive. “Let me guess, though.” His tone grew sarcastic and rude. “You’re one of the new secretaries?” He turned to his companions, his laughter a sharp blade that sliced through her confidence.

Heat burned her cheeks as she tried to force a smile. The other two agents exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, but their scrutiny was unspoken judgment making her skin prickle.

“Dick, that’s rude of you.” A shorter man with a fade cut chimed in, his tone light but laced with derision. “I imagine she’ll be great at ‘pushing papers.’” His once-over made her skin crawl. “What’s it like adjusting to the…excitement of Langley?”

She knew what he was insinuating. Who did you screw to get here? And how easy is it to get on that list?

She swallowed, searching for a response that wouldn’t make her sound defensive. She was painfully aware that each passing second just made their stares worse. “You know…It’s different,” she managed to say, her voice wavering slightly. “But I’m here to learn.”

“Good luck with that,” the tall man—Dick—said, not even attempting to mask his amusement. He picked up his coffee cup, taking a sip as if savoring the taste of her embarrassment.

Valerie shifted uncomfortably, desperately trying to think of a retort or at least something to say to not be stuck here awkwardly. The cafeteria buzzed with life around her, yet she felt utterly isolated. She could almost hear the whispers in the air, a chorus of judgments that she couldn’t shake off. She took a half-step back, ready to cut her losses and leave.

“You’re Valerie, right?” A smooth Southern drawl from behind pulled her back out of her head. Valerie turned to catch sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man with a mess of auburn hair and a kind smile. He was, by all accounts, attractive. Her heart would’ve fluttered like a teenager’s if she were into men.

“Hey there, I’m Tom. I’m in your department.” He extended his hand, balancing his tray with practiced ease. “Class of ’72.”

With a less elegant tray maneuver, Valerie grasped his hand firmly. It was like a lifeline, and she was grateful for the rescue. “Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t worry about those guys.” Tom nodded toward the trio as he guided her away from their table. “They’re a buncha assholes to everyone. Not to sound cliché but just keep your head up and be yourself.”

Valerie nodded. “Thanks.”

“Some of them think they’re hot shit, but they’re nothin’ but cold piss on a paper plate, I swear. You’ll find your spot in the Agency, don’t worry.” His sweet Southern smile put her at ease. “Now enough of this after-school special stuff.” He chuckled and gestured to a less-populated table. Valerie’s tension eased even more as she followed and grabbed the seat across from him.

“So, what’s your story? Not gonna lie. You’re the first woman we’ve had on our team, so I’m curious, what brought you here?” Tom leaned in with genuine interest.

“I’ve always wanted to do this. I studied Psychology at the University of Washington.” Valerie was surprised by how easily the words rolled off her tongue. “I thought it might give me an edge in understanding people, especially in this line of work.” When he nodded and kept eye contact, she continued, “After that, I went through the police academy and spent a few years with the Seattle police force before coming here the moment the recruiter said yes.”

“Smart move.” Tom stabbed his salad. “You’re more than qualified to be here. Just remember”—he leaned back in his chair nonchalantly—“confidence is great, but you can’t let them see you sweat.”

“As if you’d know about sweating, you lazy ass,” a familiar voice piped in. Jenna smirked and sat down next to her. Tom gave Jenna the middle finger before doing an introductory motion between the two of them. “Valerie, this is my sister, Jenna.”

“Hello again.” Valerie nodded to Jenna before turning back to Tom. “We met during the group orientation.”

“Then you already know how much of a pain in the ass she is.” Tom smiled softly. “You won’t be alone here.”

Jenna gently elbowed Valerie before flashing a mischievous smile. “Won’t ever be alone again with us around. You’ll hate it.”

Valerie couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, she doubted she’d ever dislike their company.