The Hidden Truths Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  “It was that or death.”

  His honesty took her aback, but why should she be surprised? He was planning to kill her, anyway. “You’re a coward. A hack. You prey on the weak. You frame innocent people. And for what? What do you even plan on doing with the formula?”

  “Are you done?” Ted asked Henry, and then he walked toward him and reached for the notepad.

  “You have the formula. What now?” Henry rubbed his hands against his pant legs and shifted in his seat. Ava wondered what exactly he knew about Sophia Davidson.

  “Prove the formula is valid by creating the substance. Then, you two can create the antidote,” Ted explained.

  “What?” Ava’s head snapped up. “No. You might have convinced Henry to do what you want, but there’s no chance in hell I’m going to help you.”

  “You might not care about your family. But do you care about a million Americans? How about two million?” He folded the paper with the formula on it and closed his hand around it.

  She shook her head and gasped. “No.”

  “An attack will happen, and it is up to you if—or how many—Americans die.” He reached for the tie on his neck and straightened it. “Because if you don’t create an antidote, and within forty-eight hours, the dead will be on your hands.”

  Aiden shoved his hands through his hair and sank onto the leather couch in Michael’s living area. “She must’ve lied. I didn’t trust her when she showed up, but I guess I just—”

  “Hoped you were wrong?” Connor suggested.

  “I guess I don’t understand why Sophia showed up in the first place. If she’s working with the group who ruined my career—the ones who have Ava—then why’d she warn us? Why send that text to my burner phone, telling me to back off? It felt like she really wanted Ava and me to be safe. As much as I didn’t want to believe her, some part of me thought that maybe she was one of the good guys.” He stared at the wall in a daze. Numbness spread through his limbs.

  “She’s your mother. It’d be a hard pill for anyone to swallow. She was messing with you, though. The plane tickets and stuff were probably a trap.”

  Aiden pressed a hand over his face and squeezed his eyes shut. “She broke into Michael’s home. Not an easy feat. Her agents could’ve taken us then and there. She didn’t need to lure us with plane tickets.”

  “True,” Connor muttered while taking a seat next to Aiden.

  Aiden sucked in a breath, opened his eyes, and peered into the kitchen at Jake and Michael, who sat behind computers tapping at keys. “This whole thing makes no Goddamn sense.”

  Michael looked up from his screen and joined Aiden and Connor’s conversation. “Douglas, or whatever his real name is, was at the mosque. We know he works for J-4-76. We know Sophia, at least according to her, is one of the co-leaders of this group. We have to assume she knew about the operation at the mosque or even led the whole damn thing.”

  Aiden thought about the photo they found of Sophia. The photo had been taken a little over three years ago. She stood in front of the Lincoln building in a khaki trench coat with her arms crossed and her lips drawn in a straight line. He tried not to let her picture pull at his heart—to make him feel anything close to pain. He rubbed the back of his neck. “How many undercover agents, legit ones, have serious relationships? I couldn’t ever keep a girlfriend because I was always undercover. Fake identity. New location. How did this Douglas guy pull off a relationship with the redhead? And why’d he work so hard to keep her hidden?” He shook his head in frustration. “Was he hiding the relationship from J-4-76?” He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way into the kitchen and looked out the window.

  “Okay. So this guy has a secret girlfriend. He keeps her secret because he told her the truth about who he really was . . . which is a big no-no for members of secret groups that don’t actually exist.” Michael rubbed his jaw and leaned back in his chair. “He knows that he’s screwed if anyone in his agency ever finds out about them or, more importantly, that she knows the truth. He tells her that if anything ever happens to him, or if anyone comes asking about him, there is only one person in the agency he trusts—Sophia.”

  “And he met with Sophia on several occasions,” Jake interjected.

  Aiden looked up at Jake, and his brows pulled together in question.

  Jake tapped a few buttons on his keyboard. “While you two were gone, Connor and I looked over the surveillance footage. You probably missed it over the last six months, because you didn’t know to look for her.” He flipped the screen around toward Aiden and paused the image.

  Off to the side of the building was a woman dressed in black. Her hood was up, but he could see her face at just the right angle.

  “Sophia appeared outside Douglas’s home two other times since you’ve been filming him,” Jake said before glancing over at Michael.

  “When was her last visit with Douglas?” Michael asked.

  “Tuesday.”

  Aiden looked up at Jake. “This past Tuesday? The day Ava and I ditched Douglas outside my bar?” His blue eyes deepened with concern. He folded his arms and looked back out the window at the river, wishing the calming water would somehow soothe his nerves.

  “Spell all of this out for me,” Connor said as he entered the kitchen. He scratched his short beard and pressed his hands on the table. “If Sophia is the leader of J-4-76, then why would Douglas trust her? Shouldn’t she be the last person he’d want his girlfriend talking to? Sophia would have the most to lose if anyone found out about the agency, right?”

  “I don’t know. But if she was telling me the truth, and she runs the agency with someone else, maybe this other person is the feared one,” Aiden responded with a weak voice. His energy was draining the more he thought of his mother—and the longer Ava was gone, the more anxious he became about whether or not he’d find her alive.

  Connor reached for the photo of Sophia and studied it.

  “I need to think.” Aiden sat down at the table. “Everything ties back to the mosque takedown, six months ago. It’s all connected. And, given that Douglas was there—”

  “And Douglas works for your mom . . .” Michael prompted.

  “That means my mum—Sophia—is embroiled deep within this whole damn thing.”

  “And it’s not possible that the mosque takedown was legit?” Jake asked.

  “I looked into the backgrounds of all of the seven people who were arrested. None of them have any red flags. I searched that place from top to bottom, and I’m telling you, they weren’t hiding anything. Evidence doesn’t just magically appear one day from thin air. It was brought in by the J-4-76 thugs, and then they brought it to CSAC, to Homeland. For some damn reason.”

  “How does J-4-76 benefit from this?” Michael asked while quirking his brows.

  “That’s the million-dollar question,” Aiden replied, staring at the picture of Sophia on Jake’s screen. “We figure that out, and I think we can solve this whole damn thing.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “All of the equipment you should need is in this room.”

  Ava looked away from Ted and studied the sterile pseudo-lab. It was in the neighboring room to the one in which they’d been held. “How do you know you have everything we need?” She crossed her arms in defiance.

  Ted looked down at his watch and crinkled his slightly crooked nose. “You’re wasting time.”

  Ava had no idea what time of day it was. There were no windows in the room, so she couldn’t even tell whether or not it was dark out. “I still haven’t agreed to this.” She bit down on her lip.

  Ted moved toward her and brushed her messy brownish blonde hair behind her right ear. “You will, my dear. I know you won’t let people die. Your heart is still pure.”

  She shivered at his touch and took an unconscious step back. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why do you need to know? What’s the purpose of knowing?” Ted glanced over at Henry, who was moving about
the lab, studying all of the gear. “At least he’s complying. Why won’t you?”

  “How can I help create something that can destroy so many lives?” He was too close to her. His cologne overpowered her senses.

  “What’s the difference? You were willing to create the formula last week.”

  “Last week, I thought the president of the United States had approved the project. Even though I disagreed, I thought I had to obey orders.”

  Ted’s lips curved into a smile. “But you chose to defy your orders on Sunday night when you and Henry hid your discovery.”

  “I don’t believe the president knows anything about this. This is all a part of some sick, twisted plan you’ve created.”

  “I think I’ll keep you alive long enough for you to witness your handiwork in action.”

  “So, you are going to kill us.” She looked down at the floor, ignoring the way the cold concrete felt against her bare feet. She attempted to fight back the tears that threatened every time she truly thought about her impending death.

  “But I’m giving you the option to save lives by creating the antidote. For a do-gooder such as yourself, I think you’d be happy with that outcome.”

  “Why harm people to begin with?” She caught sight of Henry out of the corner of her eye and felt herself becoming overwhelmingly frustrated by his absence. He recruited her. He screwed up her life. Why the hell didn’t he say something?

  “It’s a bit above your pay grade, sweetheart.” He started for the exit.

  “Wait,” Ava called out.

  His hand rested on the doorknob, but he didn’t turn. “What?”

  “We need more equipment. We can’t create the antidote with what you’ve provided us.”

  Henry arched a brow and focused on Ava.

  “Eddie told us what we needed.” Ted turned toward her.

  “And Eddie didn’t know the formula, which means he didn’t know what we would need to create the antidote.” Let this work. Let this work. She looked down at her hands, wondering whether they were as shaky as her insides. “If we’re going to do this, it has to be done right. I’ll provide you with a list of chemicals and equipment we need.”

  The damn bastard was actually grinning at her. If she had a vat of acid on hand, she’d sear the smile right off of his face. “Fine. Write down what you need. We’ll get whatever it is by tomorrow morning.”

  “The things we need are going to be hard to access. They’ll be at Aberdeen.” She could feel Henry’s eyes on her, but she ignored him.

  “As I said, we can get whatever it is that you require. Just write it down.” He turned back toward the door and left, leaving her alone with Henry.

  She looked around the room. There was no way out except the door through which Ted had just passed, which she knew was guarded on the other side.

  “What are you doing?” Henry whispered as he moved toward her and reached for her arm.

  She scanned the room, searching for the small device that would be recording them. She spotted it in the same place as in the other room—just above the doorframe. She leaned in toward Henry and hugged him. “We’re being recorded,” she whispered before pulling away.

  “This is my fault. I’m sorry, Ava.”

  “Don’t apologize. Just help me make this right.”

  Henry had been her mentor. Her second father. But now, she saw him as a minnow swimming in an ocean of sharks. They’d broken him.

  “I’m sorry I ever dragged you into this.”

  “I am, but I’m not.” She moved toward the table, which housed several empty vials and test tubes. “Maybe it’s fate you brought me in,” she said under her breath.

  “Fate?” he mouthed back to her in surprise, pressing his hands down on the counter next to her.

  She looked up at her mentor. He’d aged at least ten years in the last week. “Yeah. Fate.”

  Aiden rubbed his chest, attempting to alleviate the growing discomfort that was bubbling inside. He stared at Michael expectantly, his expression grim and worried. “Anything? Your program has been running for a while now.”

  “Finished a few minutes ago. A lot sooner than I anticipated, actually. I’m just processing the data.”

  Aiden jumped up from the couch and moved with quick intensity into the kitchen. He braced his hand on the back of Michael’s chair and studied the computer screen. “I’m not a numbers guy. What does all of this mean?”

  Michael pointed to an account number on the screen. “Funds are being siphoned from various government programs into this one account—it’s unmarked. It’s all small amounts that go unnoticed. The algorithm is very advanced and probably undetectable by most. I’d venture to say that this account, now hovering around four billion dollars, has got to be what is fueling their operation.”

  “Four billion?”

  “But the last deposit was made almost seven months ago. The channel of funds has stopped.”

  “So what? Four billion’s not enough?” Aiden quipped.

  “They’ve been running on a steady and regular stream of cash,” he pulled up a different screen, “since 2002.”

  “So why has it stopped?”

  “No clue. What I can tell you is that, within the last six months, there have been several industrial sites purchased by way of this account. In Miami, Yonkers, Birmingham, Detroit, and Houston.”

  “And this is abnormal for them?”

  Michael tapped a few keys with deft fingers while cracking his neck. “What makes me suspicious is that the purchases were made within a week following the raid on the mosque in D.C., and the funds stopped coming to this account a month prior to the raid.”

  “So this all goes back to that damn day at the mosque. Again. Everything must be connected. What in the hell are we missing?”

  “What possible reason could J-4-76 have to set up seven people as terrorists?” Michael spun around in his seat and looked over at Aiden.

  “It’s not about the mosque, is it? It’s about the money.” Aiden scratched his beard, which was coming in thick now after a few days without shaving. “Do you think Ava is at one of those industrial sites?”

  Michael nodded. “We have a lot of ground to cover.” He turned back to the computer screen. “Aiden, this might take me a few hours. Why don’t you try and get some rest? You look like shit.”

  “Would you be able to sleep if Kate was out there somewhere?”

  Without turning around, Michael responded, “No.”

  Aiden sighed and returned to the living room.

  “Sounds like you have some solid leads,” Connor said encouragingly.

  Aiden nodded at Connor and glanced over at Jake, who had dozed off in the recliner with his tablet in hand. Aiden’s blue eyes cooled as he tried to maintain control over his temper. He was burning with rage at the thought of what could be happening to Ava. He’d known her for only a week, and somehow she’d shifted the very axis of the spin of the earth. What would he do if he didn’t get to her in time? “You think Ava will forgive me for what I did?”

  “You mean not telling her the truth about who you were from the start? Not telling her about the mosque?” Connor sat up straight, but his attention averted toward the floor.

  Aiden jerked his free hand away from his lips, not realizing he was biting his thumb. A memory of Ava shot forward in his mind, and a smile threatened his lips. She was always biting her nails . . . God, she was amazing. Brilliant. Funny. Sincere. Not to mention gorgeous. He’d been with beautiful women before, but no woman had ever made him want more than a night or two. But could he give her more? What could he possibly offer to a woman like her?

  “Aye, do you think she’ll forgive me?” he finally answered.

  “I don’t know. Let’s just find her first.”

  Of course Connor was right, but it was hard to be patient when, at any moment, Ava might be killed by the group that had destroyed his career. A group spearheaded by his mother.

  That was a whole other issue he
couldn’t quite navigate his feelings around.

  Two women had appeared in his life at the same time: the woman who gave him up at birth, and a woman who made him feel that life was about so much more . . .

  And he had no idea what would happen to either of them.

  “Connor, do you have someone in your life?” Aiden took a seat in the recliner beside the one that housed Jake, who was snoring lightly.

  Connor shook his head. “You know all too well how it is in this business. Always on the road. Always chasing down some snake of a criminal. Or protecting someone . . . There’s just no time.” His lips curved into a frown. “Besides, after what I’ve witnessed over the years, I’m not sure if I could ever be with anyone while I’m doing what I do. It’s just too dangerous.”

  Bloody hell.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ava’s mouth opened in surprise as three agents rolled the equipment into the lab. “How’d you get it so fast?” She wasn’t sure what time it was, but she was pretty sure it was morning. She’d slept in a sleeping bag on the cement floor in what she had dubbed the hostage room, where she and Henry had been tied to chairs. She’d been jerked awake by one of the agents and dragged into the bathroom before the agent thrust a coffee cup and donut in her hands.

  “Why do you guys care if I eat?”

  “Ted thinks you need energy to get the job done. Frankly, I don’t give a damn if you eat,” the agent responded.

  “Where is Ted?” She hadn’t seen him since the night before.

  “The chemicals you requested are here, as well,” the man told her, ignoring her question.

  Ava looked around the room, perplexed. The list she’d given them had been exhaustive, and yet they somehow managed to get all of it in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Get to work. Boss wants the formula and antidote completed yesterday,” the agent barked in her direction, his green eyes scorching her with anger.

  Ava stole a glance at Henry, who sat perched on a stool in front of one of the lab counters. He was sorting through various vials and test tubes. She hated him right now, almost as much as she hated her captors. He had been such a coward. He had placed innocent Americans in danger and, by doing so, he had forced her to aid these mad patriots.