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very shortly and pass the harrowing tests. He was already desperate to be taken off this unexpected assignment.

CHAPTER FIVE
    K ATHY HOPED LIKE HELL the sweat trickling down her rib cage wasn’t staining the pink blouse she wore beneath her conservative business suit. She sat in a skyscraper in downtown Lima, Peru, and peered nervously out the window. The dreary clouds that blanketed the city six months out of the year seemed depressing and ominous to her.
    Two weeks. God, two long, torturous weeks to get this far! She sat in the plastic red chair outside the office of Señora Marita Olivares. To her knowledge, this woman was a “front” for Garcia’s empire, involved with hiring employees. She handled personnel work in his legal businesses, which were fronts for his illegal activities.
    As she waited, Kathy mentally went over how she must appear to others. She’d taken great pains to research what a British nanny would look like. Thus, she’d chosen her neatly tailored gray suit, a no-nonsense blouse and plain black, low-heeled leather shoes. Nothing fancy. To complete her prim appearance, Kathy had woven her blond hair into a braid down the back of her head. A few errant strands fell across her brow. Well, she wasn’t perfect.
    From Calgary, Alberta, to here, she’d been “shepherded” by a man who pretended to be employed by Señora Olivares. But Kathy felt sure he was one of Garcia’s goons. Not wanting to appear anxious, Kathy forced herself to relax, although that was the last thing she wanted to do. Being a kidnapper and now a spy to help Sophie. That was the toughest thing she’d ever done, aside from lying to her family. Her lack of official training could put her in jeopardy, and this fact compounded her anxiety. While Commander O’Conner had helped her set up this mission, Kathy had to ensure that her fake life history was tacked down to a gnat’s ass via a paper trail. This way Garcia wouldn’t find out she was a spy. Still, she worried. What if she slipped up? Forgot a name? A place? A school? It would be so easy to do. Ordinarily, she was one brazen, confident pilot, but this situation had pitfalls she’d never encountered before.
    The door opened. An elegant, short and thin woman with black hair wrapped up in a French twist stepped into the office. She was dressed in a tasteful silk burgundy suit, which embellished her mature beauty. The gold wire-frame bifocal glasses dipped down on her aquiline nose and emphasized her narrow features. But it was the woman’s eyes, gravely serious and chocolate brown, that sent Kathy’s heart skittering.
    “Ms. Lincoln? I’m Marita Olivares. Welcome.” She shook Kathy’s hand. Smiling, she said, “Please come in for your interview.”
    “Yes, of course. It’s nice to meet you,” Kathy said, and released her warm, bejeweled hand. She noticed thewoman had a British accent, and this surprised her. Ms. Olivares was not what she appeared, and that put Kathy even more on alert as she rose and walked confidently into the woman’s office.
    Señora Olivares’s office was constructed completely of expensive mahogany, from the walls of bookshelves to her massive rectangular desk, behind which she settled herself. Kathy sat down in a green wing chair, her knees together, hands clasped in her lap. She watched as Señora Olivares quickly opened her file.
    “So…you are from Calgary? In Canada, Ms. Lincoln?” She peered over her bifocals at Kathy.
    “Yes, born and raised there, ma’am.” Another trickle of sweat started down her ribs. The gray blazer hid her perspiration, thank God.
    “Your accent, if you do not mind me saying so, sounds very Americanized, Ms. Lincoln. Not Canadian.” Her arched, thick brows rose in question.
    “My mother was American, my father Canadian. He met her on a business trip to the States. They fell in love and the rest is history. I was born in Calgary and have dual citizenship as a result.” Kathy allowed a slight smile.