The Woman in Red (The Stone Chronicles: Book 3)

Chapter 4

New York City. August 17th, 2015. 2120 Hours.

John

"Found anything, Finch?" I asked.

"I think Ms. Groves was right." I heard through the comm in my ear, "Anna Markham may not actually be Anna Markham."

"And that pleasant sentiment would mean...?"

"Anna Markham has basically no records before 2011 other than a basic birth certificate." Finch explained, "Her activity spikes from August 2011 to March 2014, when she was attending Julliard with Ms. Sonata, then she's got almost nothing up to returning to the country ten days ago."

"That," Root continued, "Plus the encryptions and hack-proofing done on this phone? No way she's just a music prodigy."

"Looks like it's an alias for something. Good one, too; you really have to be looking to find the weak spots."

"You have any idea what the alias is for?" I asked hopefully.

"Until I know who she really is, I'll have no way of knowing for sure."

"Great." I muttered.

"Have you got eyes on her?" Root asked.

"She just got into her apartment."

"Apartment? How'd she get an apartment so fast?"

"She's using Sonata's." I explained, "She's off doing some traveling Broadway show crap. Can't tell if Markham told her she'd be using it or not."

"Did you get a bug in?"

"I planted one on the other side of her wall." I answered, "I'll only be able to pick up anything if she stays in the main room. I should be able to get in tomorrow once she leaves."

"Vantage point?"

I rolled my eyes, "I'm in the building across the street. Perfect view. You really have zero faith, don't you?"

"You have been underground for three months. Could be rusty, ya know?"

"What's happening now?" Finch asked, ignoring our comments.

"She's pacing around the kitchen island. I think Root spooked her."

As I finished talking, Markham stopped, then turned and snatched the burner phone she'd bought on her way home. "Wait, looks like she's calling someone."

"Did you clone the phone?" Root begged.

"Didn't get the chance. Too worried about getting spotted."

"But you can hear her side of the conversation?"

"It's me." I heard Anna's worried voice through the radio on my desk.

"Yes, I can. Now shut up so I can pay attention."

"Is it a secure comm?" Anna continued, "Good... I have an issue... No, E - I had a tail earlier... Yes, I dumped everything. Just because I ran doesn't mean I'm stupid... No need to be a dick about it... Yeah I get it, I'm screwed... Eric, listen to me. I don't have time to debate this with you..."

"Didn't you mention something about an E?"

"Yeah," Root confirmed. "She got a text from an E right before she ditched me. 'Clear so far. Get back 2u if heats up. Stay safe.'"

"No, she was American..." Anna said, "I'm positive... I don't know, that's why I'm calling you... You've got security clearance that I can't reach anymore without blowing an alarm... Yes, basically... Bloody hell, Eric, I'm not asking you to bomb an embassy or anything..."

"Why is a 15 year old discussing security clearances and bombs...?" I asked myself quietly.

"Definitely not a music prodigy." Root commented.

"She didn't seem like CIA, but I can't know for sure unless... I know, and I don't want you getting yourself killed for me... I can't get him mixed up in all this. He's still got a life, albeit a shitty one."

I heard a door slam as Anna wandered into one of the bedrooms. I heard muffled voices as she continued her conversation with whoever was on the other line. What I didn't hear was answers.

"Who the hell is this girl?"

"She's a genius, that's what." Root said exasperatedly, "She hacked her own fingerprints for God's sake!"

I frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Finch answered, "She put an Uvarov cypher on her own education files."

"In English please?"

"There's a worm in her school records." Root explained, "Anyone who attempts to access her fingerprint file gets rerouted to a pet adoption website."

"Hm, cute."

I looked up as Anna stomped back into the kitchen, tossing the phone on the counter angrily. Her breathing was heavy: she was very clearly pissed off.

My eyebrow twitched upward when she gingerly gripped the hilt of a steak knife on the counter. The other rose when she slammed the blade into a wooden cutting board and stormed away again, slamming the bedroom door behind her.

Author's Note

Hey all - hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know it's kind of a filler, but hopefully things will start heating up soon.

Just a quick FYI: today's the second day of finals, after which we get two weeks off for winter break, so hopefully I'll be able to get some chapters up during the break (assuming I don't get roped into something else to do (knock on wood)). Plus I finished French Orals, which is literally the most stressful thing ever. You wouldn't believe how much better I feel now.

Thanks for being so patient with me! Don't forget to vote if you liked the chapter, and I'd love to hear your comments (positive or negative)!

Love y'all!

~ Maddie