Excerpt of Private Agenda by Natalie Dunbar

In a deep funk after completing her "team" requalifications, Reese sat at her CIA desk trying to plan her next move. She'd suffered from gestational hypertension and preeclampsia during her six-month pregnancy, which caused her precious daughter Nicole to be stillborn and left her forty pounds heavier. With her crash diet and training program, she'd narrowly met the agency weight requirement, but in typical fashion she'd aced the physical test. Flaherty, her section chief, had been glad to get one of his best agents back.

Both feet rested on the gray desk as she stared at her monitor and tapped a finger on the keyboard. One week in the office after eight months away and, except for Nick's absence, it was like she'd never left. She'd set up her new office and gotten reacquainted with the team. She'd also checked open agency and source files for information on the Rwandan embassy bombing, piecing together the evidence and confirming some rumors. Riley's body was still missing, but presumed burned to ash.

In a weak moment she'd even analyzed agency files against the info Flaherty had given her two days ago when he'd sent an extraction team to rescue Nick and the missionaries from the Colombian rebel camp where they'd been imprisoned. She found nothing new. That bothered her. There should have been an update from the extraction team.

Her restless fingers closed on a pencil, moving up and down yellow-painted wood. That moment when she'd held little Nicole's body in the hospital, knowing that her beautiful baby would never open her eyes, still haunted her. The pencil snapped in her fingers. Dammit, Nick should have been there. Or did it bother her more that it had been one of the few times in her life when her strength had failed her?

Leaning over, she tossed the broken pencil into the trash. She expelled her pent-up breath on a sigh. She'd filed papers to divorce Nick for not being the husband she thought he should be, but she didn't want anything to happen to him. Lord help her, he didn't even know about Nicole.

A message popped up on her screen in large red letters: MISSION BRIEFING AT 1400 HOURS. Flaherty was back. Swinging her legs off the desk, she stood, shut off the laptop and retrieved her PDA. Then she headed for the briefing room.

The mere thought of a new mission usually got her juices flowing, but this time she had too many other things on her mind. Gritting her teeth and rotating her shoulders, Reese tried to loosen up. Whatever this mission was, she didn't want it, especially now that she had a name and a face for the SOB who'd provided the weapons and explosives for the Rwandan embassy bombing. If Nick was in the hands of the extraction team, going after her brother's killer topped her list. The reality was that refusing a mission was not an option and being back with the CIA meant doing the assignments they gave her.

With each step of her boots up the black-and-gold marble corridor, four gritty years of training kicked in. She'd already begun the mental preparation for the upcoming mission. This time she knew she could depend only on herself.

Stepping into Briefing Room 2, Reese blinked against the bright lights mounted in the ceiling tiles. In a rumpled gray suit and a Superman tie, Evan Flaherty stood in a corner, loading a CD into the media system. The brilliant light failed to flatter his thick, brownish blond hair or his fair complexion. Steel-gray eyes lit up at the sight of her, his mouth forming a smile beneath his bushy moustache.

"Welcome back, Reese. You look good."

"Surprised?" she asked, thinking about the weight she'd been carrying when she'd gone out on maternity leave. Built tall and solid, she would never be skinny, but now she was a size twelve again.

She'd kept the bigger breasts pregnancy had brought her and skipped cutting the dark-brown curls that now hung close to her shoulders. She wore no foundation on her flawless skin, but she'd used eyebrow pencil and liner on her golden brown eyes, and added a rich wine-colored lipstick to her full lips. Now she felt like the lethal beauty Nick had nicknamed her.

Flaherty shook his head. "No, I'm not surprised, but you still deserve the compliment."

Nodding, she acknowledged the praise. "You look the same." Placing her pocket PC on one of the modular gray desks, she switched on its media panel and computer and made an attempt at small talk. "How's Rita?"

His smile widened and his eyes softened the way they always did when he talked about his wife. "Anxious to go on vacation to New Zealand, but I'd just as soon go somewhere tropical and closer."

The corners of Reese's mouth lifted in amusement. She could just imagine Flaherty and his wife enjoying themselves in Florida. It looked something like the last vacation she'd taken with Nick. The memories made her body tingle.

Straightening her back and rubbing her hands together, she made the smile disappear. She had to quit thinking about Nick. He'd made his choice and it wasn't her. Reese bit her lip.

"Coffee?" she mumbled, determined to think of something else.

"On the sideboard." Flaherty gave her one long, knowing look and then went back to loading the mission data.

Reese straightened her shoulders. The man saw too much. Working together for four years, they'd formed a relationship that had served them well. She'd begun with various partners, but once Flaherty paired her with Nick, they'd become his miracle team. Flaherty had always held up his end, even when it wasn't politically correct.

Flaherty closed the media panel and joined her at the sideboard. "You've had some tough breaks. I know that work is the best thing for you right now — but are you sure you're up to this?"

Pouring coffee into a foam cup and stirring in artificial sweetener, Reese Whittaker bristled at the question. "What is this, Evan? You guys don't pay agents to sit around the office."

"You are one of our best agents, but a lot has happened," Flaherty said, justifying himself, "I have to know that you're fit for duty."

"I'm fine. What's the latest on Nick?" she asked, seizing the opportunity and suppressing a flash of pain. "He should have been out by now."

Flaherty answered in even tones, his eyes assessing her. "We're still working on getting him out, but the situation has improved drastically. I'm expecting something to break any minute."

Reese felt relief wash over her. Flaherty wasn't giving her any specifics, but it sounded like Nick would be okay. She lifted the steaming cup to her lips with both hands, willing them to be steady. "When they check in," Flaherty added, "I could arrange for you to talk to him for a few minutes."

Her throat tightened at the thought. Strung out alone on the naked edge of grief and depression, she'd finally realized that Nick was married to his job and the thrills it provided. She'd filed for divorce to close that chapter of her life. Now that she was thinking more rationally, she wasn't about to let Nick talk her out of it.

But he had been looking forward to Nicole's birth. She would have to tell him about the baby.

She gulped down hot coffee, letting it free her throat. "Thank you, Evan. I'd appreciate that."

Eyes gleaming approval, Evan slung one arm around her shoulders in an awkward hug.

She lifted her head and spoke confidently. "I've got my edge back and I'm fit for duty. Let's talk about the mission."

Dropping his arm, he said, "I selected you for this one because of your weapons expertise and successful track record, but there's an added opportunity that only you would appreciate. After all you and Nick have accomplished for us, I think I owe you this. All I ask is that you keep your focus on the primary mission at all times."

"Of course." Studying his face, her mind raced ahead, trying to make sense of his cryptic words.

"You're going to have to gain their trust, so you may be undercover for several months."

Reese nodded. Except for her vow to ensure justice for her brother, it sounded like just what she needed. "Details?"

Checking the doorway, he beckoned and called out, "Larry, over here."

A fresh-faced, sandy-haired young man in blue chinos and a matching print sport shirt entered the room and quickly strode toward them with youthful enthusiasm.