Deadly Holidays

by Lisa Phillips

  A couple of hours later, the office erupted in noise. Six men strode out of the elevator, including Bradley and Adrian. In the middle of the huddle was a man. Maybe in his fifties, he wore dark clothes and handcuffs. Adrian and the other agents escorted him past the conference room windows and down the hall.

  Bradley opened the door to them.

  Rachel said, “Is that the hacker?”

  He nodded. “We got him. But he’s refusing to speak to anyone but you.”

  **

  Across town in a hotel lobby, Steve leaned on a cane. His hair was liberally sprinkled with gray, and he wore slacks with the belt far higher than it had any reason to be. The blue shirt was buttoned all the way to his throat which was covered with a film to make it look like he had wrinkles. His whole face itched from the stuff. His bushy eyebrows felt far too large and heavy.

  He blinked, which shifted the colored contacts. He ignored that annoying sensation and hobbled forward on the cane and scuffed brown shoes.

  “Sir, this is a restricted area.”

  Steve looked up from his slightly hunched position and blinked at the Secret Service agent. Then he looked back, down the hall. He let out a, “huh” noise and then turned around, muttering. Not low enough the agent would be unable to hear.

  He circled the ground floor of the hotel like he was totally lost. Clocked each of the Secret Service agents, and the plain-clothes local cops. The vice president was in a lunch meeting with someone whose name had been left off his calendar. He didn’t figure the man was stupid enough to meet with anyone who could directly tie him to the blackmail. But whoever it was, Steve wanted to know.

  Just enough time to look him in the eye. Tell him he wasn’t going to shoot the president. Tell him not to touch anyone Steve cared about.

  He wouldn’t mind a minute alone with the man, but didn’t figure that was going to happen.

  He couldn’t deny he hadn’t at least considered bringing the rifle the blackmailer had left at the house for him here. So he could shoot the vice president instead. The reasons for not following through with that idea were myriad, and he didn’t need to go over them all in his mind again. He hadn’t brought it, or any other weapon. That wasn’t part of who this identity was, so it wasn’t even a consideration.

  But chief of the reasons he hadn’t gone through with the idea, was the look on Rachel’s face last night. The idea she would even think of him and the word “assassin” in the same context. Ever.

  Even though he’d told her simply for the shock factor, he hadn’t realized what affect her reaction would have on him.

  Twelve minutes of wandering around, plus another sixteen reading a newspaper in the lobby to cover the fact he was watching the Secret Service movement, and then two agents shifted. One lifted his hand, sleeve close to his mouth. Said something low. A couple of others moved to a new position.

  The vice president stepped out of the restaurant at the center of the hotel. Secret Service agents moved into formation around him, and they trailed through the lobby to a hallway. They would exit out a side door where the motorcade waited.

  Steve watched the restaurant door.

  A couple of minutes later, a man wandered out. Steve left the cane propped against the chair and tossed the newspaper on a nearby table. He followed the man out the front doors and stayed ten feet behind him for two blocks before the man turned a corner.

  Steve turned the corner as well, but stopped almost short of completing the turn. The man he’d followed had his gun out.

  “What are—” He started at the sight of an old man. “Why are you following me?”

  “A better question is, why are you meeting with the VP in broad daylight?”

  The man blanched. “Steve?”

  “Hey, David. How are you?”

  David Sanders blew out a breath. He ran one hand through his hair. “Dude.” Like that was enough of an exclamation to cover everything.

  Steve said, “I’m public enemy number one, and you’re his lunch date?” He paused. “Petey and Jerome are both dead.” He’d killed one, and Rachel the other.

  David’s face fell. “I know…” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. At least the gun stayed by his side and didn’t come back up. It still concerned Steve. If this turned ugly, he had no way to defend himself. Dying would also solve a whole lot of problems, and not just for him.

  It wouldn’t get Rachel completely out of danger, but it would help.

  He said, “He’s using the house in West Virginia to pass weapons back and forth. We’re dying, David. What’s going on?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What was lunch about?”

  “He just… I was supposed to, you know…”

  “Assume I don’t know.”

  David said, “I’m passing information back and forth. Making sure he knows what the situation is, and when he should be ready.”

  Back and forth between who?

  Steve said, “You sold out. Those aren’t the actions of someone whose whole family is being threatened.” Less leverage meant the target was given a smaller job. More leverage—like Steve with his business and all the people he cared about—meant he was asked to kill the president. “He got to you, though. Like he got to Petey. And Jerome.”

  “And you?”

  “I won’t do what he wants.”

  David sniffed. “Then you’ll lose everything.” He made an explosion motion with his mouth and hands. “Gone.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m figuring out a way to bring him down, that’s why I followed you. Because I need your help.”

  David took a step back.

  “You wanna be his errand boy? We’re the only ones left. Am I supposed to stand up to him alone?”

  “I’m not interested in dying.”

  “So you’ll make a deal and be his lap dog?”

  David scrunched up his face. “I could kill you right now. Split, get out of town. Disappear. No opposition, no problems.”

  “Until he needs someone else to get the president in their crosshairs and pull the trigger, and you’re the only one left alive.”

  He paled. “The pres—” His voice died.

  “You see why I won’t do it?”

  “I guess some people wouldn’t mind if he was dead. I can see why you’d think twice, but why d’you have to be so moral about it?”

  Steve said, “You want me to explain the intricacies of why we have different tasks? Because I don’t exactly understand it. Except that I’m a better sniper than you.”

  “And a more well-known scapegoat,” David added. “Plus he gets to publicize the evils of private security contractors who think their skills mean they’re above the law.”

  “Got the rhetoric down already?” Steve asked. “Then why did he try to kill my reporter friend? He could have fed her the line that he wanted out.”

  “Nicola would never have gone along with it.”

  “So all dissenters get dead?”

  David shrugged. “Play your part, I’ll play mine.”

  “I’m not going to shoot the president.”

  “Then he stops playing with your girl, and it’s game over for her.”

  Rachel would be dead?

  None of this had been even remotely a game. At every step the blackmailer had enacted his plan. This was no different, not when he wanted the president of the United States dead. Because the moment that happened, the vice president would become the commander in chief himself.

  Steve didn’t believe the vice president had been playing with Rachel. The blackmailer wanted her dead, and he’d hired trained operatives to do it. Members of Steve’s own team.

  Steve had figured the fact there was nothing obvious between him and Rachel meant she would be safe from his enemies. That the things he’d done in his life wouldn’t make her a target.

  “He knows everything.” Fear shone in David’s eyes. “Even what you never told anyone. So if you care even one bit about th
is woman, then do what he said. Because otherwise, she’s dead. And he’ll still get what he wants.”

  Chapter 12

  It took an hour of debate with Bradley and coaching from both Megan and Adrian before Rachel actually entered the interview room.

  The earpiece they’d given her so they could speak to her during the chat seemed to have been pushed too far into her ear. Rachel smoothed down that side of her hair, conscious of not touching it. The quicker she got this over with, the better she would feel.

  Too bad this wasn’t about her feelings.

  Or her fear.

  This was about finding out why a hacker wanted to talk to her. And how it would help them bring down the vice president.

  Not that she could actually mention the VP specifically. That had been part of the coaching Adrian had given her. The other agents, including the special agent in charge, would be watching. None of them were aware Double Down had a suspect—and without proof they would not know. Rachel prayed quickly that she wasn’t going to mess anything up. Adrian was walking a fine line. As the only federal agent among them, he had the most to lose if his coworkers found out he’d been playing both sides.

  The older man looked up as she entered. Heavy jowls hung on the sides of his face, peppered with stubble. Dark jeans and a wool sweater with three buttons at his throat. A full head of dark hair frosted with gray.

  Rachel shut the door behind her, not moving her gaze from him. She didn’t want to give him her back, even if he was shackled to the table. Which was Bradley’s idea.

  She set the water bottle in front of him, close enough so that he could grab it. She pulled out the metal chair opposite him and sat back from the table. She didn’t exactly want to be close to him. That part of Bradley’s instructions she hadn’t minded so much.

  He stared at her.

  There was something in his eyes she didn’t want to think about. “Maybe you’d like to start.” After all, this was basically an elaborate strategy game, like chess. Would he move a pawn first?

  Was she the pawn?

  When he said nothing, she said, “How about your name?”

  The agents had taken his fingerprints when they processed him, but this would save them having to run his identity. Assuming he answered truthfully.

  “I’m Rachel.”

  He shifted, a minute movement she almost didn’t notice. Then his lips parted and his gravelly voice said, “Know that.”

  He held his body still. So much control. She had to do the same, or he’d know he was getting to her. Freaking her out.

  “Would you like to tell me why you asked to speak to me?”

  Maybe they could get this over with.

  He said, “Figured I’d see you for myself. In person.”

  “Because my name is all over what he’s asking you to do? Sending people messages and emails, giving out instructions. Orders to kill.” He’d probably even seen the video of her—like everyone else. She wanted to shudder, but held her body still.

  Was that what he meant—in person?

  The glint in his eyes got to her. Rachel glanced at the wall behind his shoulder and exhaled, like this whole thing was boring her to tears. Which was a weird expression, when she thought about it. Why would she be so bored she’d start crying? Maybe fall asleep, but not cry. Bored to the point of snoring was probably more like it. But considering the rhyme there, maybe that was why it hadn’t become a thing.

  She glanced at him. “But now you’re here. Caught.”

  He was older than she’d have thought a hacker would be. Wasn’t that a younger person thing? Not someone born before the computer age hit every household in America.

  So was he actually the hacker they were looking for or was he someone else entirely?

  A voice spoke in her earpiece. “Rachel.”

  She didn’t react.

  The voice she assumed belonged to Adrian said, “He isn’t in any US military database, or any branch of the government. We ran his photo through the DMV. There’s nothing. Which means we have no idea who he is.”

  If they hadn’t found his ID in any branch of service’s database, that meant he couldn’t possibly be part of Steve’s team back when he’d worked for the CIA. He wasn’t part of it in any way, or his fingerprints would’ve come back with a result that gave them nothing but a reference number for a classified file they didn’t have access to. Either way, there would have been some kind of record.

  “Who are you?”

  His lips curled into a smile. “No one.” He laughed, the sound sharp against her ears. “That’s why it’s all so beautiful.”

  “Killing people is beautiful? Destroying lives by ruining people’s reputations? A woman took her life, and you’re sitting here laughing because you’re ‘so good’ that you give the FBI the runaround?” She dropped her hands from the air quotes, no longer quite so nervous. “Why did you want to talk to me? Because I don’t think it was just to gloat. You seem entirely too enamored with your own intelligence to not have something else going on.”

  A thought popped into her head.

  “Are you stringing me along while you hack into the FBI’s database somehow?”

  His eyebrows rose. “I was searched. There’s no electronics on me. It’s all been seized.”

  “And brought here.”

  In her earpiece, Adrian said, “On it.”

  The hacker’s mouth shifted.

  “Is that what this is? A time-waste?” She paused for a second, then said, “What is his end game? What does he want?”

  She needed him to spell out the fact the VP wanted to take the president’s spot in the Oval office. Adrian’s job would be a whole lot easier if the rest of the feds knew who the prime suspect was in all of this.

  “It can’t just be about revenge.” She took a breath, aware she was—in part—speaking just to fill the silence. A nervous habit. “I don’t buy that. I think he wants something.”

  “Power,” the man whispered, his voice full of awe. “Money.” His mouth shifted, and he flashed his teeth. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

  “And you get to share a piece of it?”

  Something dark flickered in his eyes, and it made her entire body go cold. He’d asked to speak to her. It was a couple of seconds before he said, “If I want my share.”

  She jumped on that, ignoring the ickiness of this situation. Leaning forward, she said, “I don’t believe you. I think he’ll leave you behind, you’ll be known as just the hacker he used to get the job done. Now he’s on to bigger things. You’ll be forgotten.”

  He fisted one hand and slammed it down on the table. “I won’t.”

  Rachel jumped in her chair. She covered the reaction saying, “I think you know the truth.”

  His face twisted and he screamed, “He won’t.”

  He knew that was a lie. Why else scream at her so loud? There was no need to face off with her if she was wrong. He’d just sit there, content he had the superior position. But he’d lost it. She’d turned the power back on him.

  The question she had was, how to use it.

  “I can help you.” She let those words hang in the air. He needed to know she wasn’t going to use her power against him, even the slim portion she had. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it so you don’t need him. He won’t control you anymore.”

  He stretched his mouth wide and screamed at her, spit flying across the table.

  Rachel got up and stepped back.

  He slumped in the chair, breathing hard.

  The door swung open. Bradley stuck his head in. “You’re done.”

  Like this was her fault? She’d been getting somewhere. How was she to know this guy had a screw loose? Rachel smoothed down her skirt and glanced at the hacker—if that was who this was.

  “Think about it.” She pushed her chair back under the table. “My offer won’t last forever.”

  **

  “Two minutes.”

  Steve gripped the phone as
he strode down the sidewalk. “Copy that.”

  At the street corner, traffic buzzed past. He hung back and waited for the vehicle Bradley had described to make its way along the street. Steve stepped up to the curb.

  The big black SUV stopped but not before the painted white strips of the crosswalk, so Steve could cross in front of it. The vehicle came to a stop on the white, the passenger door right in front of him.

  Steve opened the door and climbed in.

  The whole thing took less than twenty seconds, then Bradley hit the gas and they set off. “Almost didn’t recognize you in that old man getup. They teach you that stuff in spy school?”

  Steve said, “Yes. Now tell me what gave it away.” If there was something amiss, he needed to know.

  Bradley shrugged one shoulder as he drove. “Nothing specific. If I wasn’t waiting for you, maybe I’d have overlooked you.”

  But Bradley would probably have realized it later. Steve thought about that for a moment. If the feds looking for him saw this disguise, then they likely wouldn’t realize it was him. At least not in time to act. The likelihood they would get an image of him from some camera and be able to figure his identity out later using a computer program? That was a whole different set of odds.

  Steve dismissed that whole thing. “So what’s happening?”

  “Prisoner transfer.”

  He glanced over at his friend and saw the tension in his body.

  “Rachel baited him.” Bradley twisted his grip on the steering wheel. “Just sat there, cool as you like, and poked the bear.”

  Bradley was proud of her. At least, he was as proud as he was scared. His finger shook when he pointed to an armored vehicle a quarter mile in front of them, surrounded by black SUVs. The hacker was in there, being taken to holding at a federal prison? Steve’s brain sparked with ideas—all of which were illegal.

  Bradley continued, “He was obsessed with her before. Now?” Bradley blew out a breath and shook his head.

  Steve said, “Obsessed?”

  Bradley sighed.

  “Explain.”

  “I can’t pinpoint it.”