Chapter Three

Kinsey stared at the computer screen until she thought her eyes were going to go cross. The articles ran together after she read three of them. They all seemed to say the same thing. Senators, governors, and even higher officials had all been attacked. It had been in different area though, and none of them had been American. She stretched, looking around at her small apartment. The temporary leave she was on was going to force her into cleaning it.

She stood up, going to the window. The view from her little apartment overlooked the great view of Washington. In the very distance, she could see the Capital. It would be dark soon, which means the view would be even better. She stayed there for a minute, thinking.

The incident on the ship still played on her mind. At night, she went to bed thinking about and wondering what had really happened. There was something in the file that ate at her. She went over and picked it up. The words didn't seem any clearer to her. The thing that bothered her the most was that the men had gotten on the ship. She had seen all the movies where the terrorists got on the plane, ships, or even in the White House. However, she knew it was not that simple. They allowed no media on the ship that night. They were going to meet them on the shore the next day. She flipped another page when her phone rang. She quickly pushed the file away and picked up the phone.

"Agent Slater?" the man said on the other line.

"Yes," Kinsey replied. "Who is this?"

"It's James Curran."

Kinsey stared at the phone. It was one of the Navy Seals who rescued her. The one she thought was cute. She swallowed a little, wondering why he was calling. Her disciplinary hearing was in two days. And he wasn't going to be a witness as far as she knew.

"How can I help you, Lieutenant?" Kinsey finally asked.

"I was actually calling to help you," he replied. "Can we meet for coffee or lunch?"

The statement really threw Kinsey. She couldn't figure out what this was about. She took a deep breath, trying to decide how to answer that question. It couldn't be that bad to do it; the man did save her life.

"How about dinner tonight?" Kinsey turned the question on him.

"Perfect," James said quickly. "Bring the file when you come."

Kinsey smiled a little. She should have guessed this was more about official business than a date. "Where would you like to go?"

James laughed. "Nothing too fancy."

Kinsey nodded and named the place. It took her only about an hour to get ready. She changed into some black skinny jeans and red, cowl neck sweater. The bar was crowded for a Thursday night, but she was actually glad of it. She walked over to the corner booth and sat. It only took a minute before the Lieutenant sat down.

"Thank you for seeing me," he said quickly.

Kinsey nodded. "Why did you want to see me?"

James took a deep breath and started to tell her when the waiter walked up. Each of them ordered a beer and a burger. She watched James closely as he took a drink. He kept staring at the file. She was keeping it just out of his reach.

"I have been working on my report for the incident, and some things just don't seem to adding up," James admitted finally.

Kinsey looked up at him. "You get that feeling too."

James looked up at her for a moment. He remembered when they found her. They had left all the other hostages in the ballroom. Something else was supposed to happen in that room. But why take her out? Kinsey seemed to thinking the same thing as him. The other agents had died.

"What is your specialty, Agent Slater?" James asked as the food arrived.

"It's Kinsey, Lieutenant."

James smiled at her. "It's James."

Kinsey gave him a nod and a sweet smile. She was actually glad he asked her. It was nice to be out of the apartment. She moped for the first three days she had been on leave. She felt like she been punished. Now, at least she knew she wasn't crazy. She thought back to what he had ask her.

"My specialty?" she asked.

James nodded. "Most agents that have a position you do have some sort of specialty. Man or woman."

Kinsey laughed at his very quick add on. "My specialty is language."

James took a swig of beer and looked at her. "How many do you speak?"

Kinsey finally took a long plug on her beer. She gave him a small shrug. Kinsey only spoke four languages. There were women at the FBI that spoke more far more than that. She had advance quickly because she mastered Arabic. Her gift wasn't speaking it though.

"I speak four," she said. "But my gift isn't speaking other languages."

James gave her a funny look. "Then what is it?"

"I can detect accents."