I was officially pissed.
Pacing around in my apartment in my underwear (I had checked I was alone this time), I tried making heads and tails of what had happened.
"Alright, Bob, so here is what we know," I said, glancing at Bob as he swam around in his little fish bowl. "Lauren broke into the CIA headquarters and stole some confidential information from us. She transferred it to a USB."
"We couldn't figure out what it was she took because of the millions and millions of files on that supercomputer and because she covered her tracks brilliantly. All we got was the slimmest trace of what kind of USB she used, which then told us it had a built-in GPS."
"Zac managed to hack into the GPS signal when it was activated, which then turned out to be something Lauren did on purpose so she'd get caught and so she could get into the CIA headquarters to get... me," I paused up and glanced at Bob. "Don't look at me like that. I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. She's just playing a game, one that involves sleeping with me, apparently. Don't ask me why."
"Then she kidnapped me and tied me to a chair for three hours," —I ground my teeth at that— "before returning back with what we now found out was a fake USB. She knew I'd try to steal it which means... she played me again. She let me escape. I knew it had been too easy," I growled, clenching my fist. "Fucking bastard. Alright, continuing; We now know that she must've stashed the USB somewhere else before she let himself get caught," I said, pacing back and forth again. "The question is where?"
Bob just kept swimming around his little underwater castle. Very helpful.
I sighed and sat down on the couch next to him. "I need to know what her angle is. What does she want with me specifically? And why the hell is she still here?" I asked, frowning. "If she's got the USB, then why hasn't she left for Spaghetti country yet? Unless... she can't get out? Maybe she's stuck here in the States!"
It could be plausible. She was one of the most wanted men in America right now, every local police station and government agency had her picture. "If that's the case, Bob, she'll need to find someone who can fly the USB to Italy for her. But she's not going to choose just anybody," I said, shooting to my feet. "She has to choose someone she trusts! Someone from her own turf."
I had this figured out.
"Bob, you're a genius," I said, grinning widely. "This is why I keep you around!"
Bob just circled his castle again.
"Undercover? Are you sure? Won't she recognize you?"
"That's the thing; not here," I said, throwing a file down onto Howard's desk. He took the file and opened it. "The Trojan Horse is a well known club, known for its 'special' ladies. These women aren't your common prostitutes; These are bored housewives of diplomats who're looking for a little anonymous entertainment. The Trojan Horse provides them with said anonymity so their husbands will never know. They give them masks to wear so that nobody can see their faces and dress them up in costumes. The wives get to have their fun and the clientele gets to grope on mysterious, important women for a small fortune."
"So you want to go undercover as the wife of a diplomat in this club?" Howard questioned and closed the file again.
"I've done my research," I told. "The Italian Mob is known for hanging out there every Saturday. They gather to discuss business and meet possible clients. Lauren knows she can't get the USB out of the country the legal way anymore, so she has to go to them for help. If and when she approaches the mob, they'll meet there. Trust me."