"Her full name is Rosalind Cheryl Delaney. She was born and raised in Ottawa, Canada to Mr James and Mrs Carol Delaney who were both real estate moguls. At the age of 10, Rosalind lost her parents to a plane crash in the Mediterranean Sea. Rosalind was stripped of her father's inheritance by the bank for he was swallowed up in heavy debt." Robert looked up from his computer.
"Go on." Drystan stroked his chin as he listened further to Rose's tragic background.
Robert cleared his throat and looked down at his computer. Rosalind was taken by Child protective services and sent to several foster homes which she ran from due to their constant abuses. A few years later, her grandmother, a teacher at a college for the disabled, took her and catered for her till her death in 2018. Rosalind was left the apartment where she lives in by her grandmother who was the landlady. With nothing else to make of an income, she began work as a waitress at Meow Meow before she was hired as a pole dancer."
Robert looked up.
Drystan put his arms out on the dark Mahogany desk. "That's all?"
"Yeah. That's pretty much it." Robert looked at Vladimir for help. There was nothing else he could find on Rose. His sources had confirmed there was nothing suspicious about her background.
"What about her educational background? Was there anything fishy she did at school?" asked Vladimir.
"Well," Robert punched the keyboards before looking up again, reading aloud. "She's pretty cool. She was an outstanding student at MIT. When her grandma died, she quit school in search of a job. It is rumoured that the school contacted her for a scholarship, and she refused."
Vladimir scoffed. "Woah, sister-in-law is a computer wizard. No wonder she's so smart."
"Contact the school and ask about her. Now." Drystan drummed his fingers against his lap. He had to satisfy his curiosity once more. At least it was better than sleeping with one eye open.
"Right away." Robert took out the telephone and dialled the school's contact info. He waited for a heartbeat before the toned clicked, and he put the phone on speaker.
"Good afternoon. My name is Brandon Whitney, and I'm calling to inquire information about an applicant. She claims she studied in MIT from 2016 till 2018. Her name is Rosalind Delaney." Drystan said with an Australian accent.
The receiver, a woman, replied in a calm voice. "Okay. What company are you calling from, Sir?"
"Unilever." Drystan replied with the same accent.
Robert punched quickly on his keyboard before giving Drystan a thumbs up.
"Okay. Brandon Whitney, assistant secretary to the chairman. You're welcome, sir." The receiver's tone became meek and low.
She went on. "About Rosalind Delaney, she was once a student of MIT from 2014 till 2018. A lot of professors wrote good recommendation letters about her and even when she quit school, a scholarship was offered to her, but she refused on the ground that she had to take care of her grandma's property. Does that answer satisfy you, sir?"
"It does." Drystan said shortly.
Robert disconnects the call. He has a look at his boss and asked. "What do we do now, sir?"
"Now, we wait till this whole thing blows over." Drystan dragged himself up to his feet.
"It was a disaster, agent Black. Why the hell did you do that?" Rick flashed his warrant card at a dark skinned boy standing by the stairs and he moved away.
Rose, on her end, paced the bathroom floor, whispering her reply. "Why the hell did I do that? I could've been killed if Drystan caught me. I was in a tight spot. What was Neil thinking?"
"Catching them in the act of an illicit business transaction is enough evidence to put Drystan away." Rick walked up the stairs with Neil trailing behind him.
"Drystan Riley cannot go to jail now. It's a wrong timing," Rose hissed and looked around to see if anyone would walk in. When there was none, she went on. "I have to infiltrate Blood Moon from the inside."
"That was what we sent Mike to do but oh wait, he's dead." Rick turned to a door and knocked on it.
"Mike did a sloppy job. The moment I saw him, I knew he was police. It was only a matter of time before he's caught." Rose said.
"I'm at his house right now. I have to explain to his wife and 8-year-old triplets that Mike will never come back again." Rick took a few steps back when he saw a tear streaked face at the door. It was Mike's widow.
Neil went further to talk to her while Rick stood by the side.
"Let me be the only undercover agent. Send no one else. It'll be a waste of manpower. Any info I give you will get you a few steps closer to Drystan." Rose whispered.
"Fine but let this never happen again," Rick put his phone away and approached Cynthia whose mascara streaked below her eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Bring him back !" She wailed.
Rose had heard the woman's cries before disconnecting the call. Cynthia. She had met Cynthia once at the hospital. It was 2 months after she had awoken from her coma. Among the 2 detectives that interrogated her, one of them was Mike. Cynthia had watched outside her door with her kids as her husband questioned the victim of an armed robbery.
After her husband left, Cynthia had walked in and took her hand. "God made you the only survivor of the robbery because He has plans for you, Mel. Don't waste this second chance. Grab life by the horn and do whatever you must to survive. You're a fighter, and you won't lose."
Those words kept Rose going from the day she left the hospital till the day the police recruited her till the day she picked up training at Quantico. Cynthia's words became her watchword. It pricked her heart that she let Drystan kill the husband of the woman whose words saved her life.
She emerged from the bathroom only to see Drystan standing in front of her.
"I knew there was something odd about you the day you walked in here." He said with a mischievous grin.
Rose felt her breathing shudder. She tried to focus on maintaining eye contact with him, but her mind ran a mile. Had he listened to her conversation or did he just get here? The answers to those questions she didn't know.
"How odd?" She asked, tilting her head to the left.
Drystan said no more and walked to a red sofa, taking a seat.
Rose equally took a seat beside him, but he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Can you please stop doing that?" He said. Drystan understood women and what they wanted, but this one was on a whole other level. She was beyond weird. You'd never know what she's thinking.
"Stop doing what? I'm trying to lean my head on your shoulder. I'm tired. Besides, you're the one that came to my room. What did you expect me to do? Watch you all the way from my bed?" Rose drew closer to him. When he was not moving, she dropped her head on his shoulder and heaved a satisfied sigh.
Drystan said, trying so hard to be polite. "Fine. I understand."
Then he cleared his throat. "You saved my neck earlier today. T—Thank you."
Rise looked up with a gasp. "Did king Drystan just thank me? I must be a celebrity of some kind."
Drystan gently put her head back on his shoulder. "As I was saying, you did good out there, but you also risked your life. For someone who wants security, you're hell-bent on losing your life."
"No, I'm not. I was just trying to help." Rose reached out for his black tie and played with it.
Drystan looked at her with growing interest before resuming his talk. "I need people like you whose eyes and ears are as sharp as I want them to be."
Rose pulled away, this time looking at his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I want you to work for me." Drystan extended his hand at her. "We got a deal?"