Third Hour

by Lisa Phillips

  Mason tried to figure out what they were going to do about a guy who had a savior complex and his own private army. The Secret Service didn’t know where he was, or what he was going to do. Was Alvarez really going to be able to get them actionable intelligence?

  Stanton thanked the doctor, and she scurried out. Dakota shot Mason a look that told him all he needed to know about how she viewed shrinks. “Don’t put much stock in psycho-therapy?”

  “Psychos don’t need therapy.” She shrugged. “And it’s not my job to give it to them. It’s my job to hunt them down and put them down.” Dakota turned to Stanton. “How does us being here get Talia back?”

  Mason wanted to know the answer to that same question. They’d been called back here to the office. With no other leads, they’d had to answer that call.

  Dakota said, “We have no idea what Yewell is going to do, and you all have no idea where he is.”

  Mason had been about to say that, maybe not in exact terms. He was kind of glad she’d done it first, though. Aches and pains from the bank robber’s attack on him were perking up again. He needed pain meds—maybe an ice pack—and then he needed to get on the search for Talia.

  “It’s all connected.” He slumped into one of the chairs and motioned for Dakota to do the same. “The hacker who took Talia is working for Yewell, right?”

  “You’re theorizing. You have no evidence. If you did, maybe you’d know where he took her.”

  She was really worried about her friend. Mason wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, but doubted she would accept his small attempt at comfort. “True.”

  It grated on him that they’d essentially come up with nothing, and neither had the Secret Service. No one had seen Yewell.

  Stanton’s phone rang. He answered it, his face quickly blanching. “You cannot be serious.” He gaped. “Hold on.” The assistant director hit a button and replaced the handset. “You’re on speaker with Agent Armstrong and Special Agent Pierce.”

  On the phone, Victoria said, “I’m afraid I’m being perfectly serious. I wouldn’t kid about something like this. In fact, the Secretary of State suggested I ride with him on the plane back to Seattle.”

  Stanton looked like he wanted to throw up. “He’s really going ahead with it.”

  “He’s going to do the rally in the President’s place.”

  Dakota glanced at Mason, and they shared a look. Mason felt his brows lift. “You can’t be serious,” before he realized that was exactly what his boss had said.

  “He can’t think taking the President’s place at this rally will be a good idea.” Dakota waved a hand in the direction of the phone. “He’s putting himself and all his people in danger by coming here. Not to mention those planning to attend.”

  “I tried to convince him to cancel the whole thing.”

  Dakota leaned forward, closer to the phone. “I thought they already had.”

  “I explained the threat, he asked me why I thought I needed to explain the threat. Considering it’s his son, I guess that was valid. But he’s clearly not thinking straight. There’s no way this is going to go well. Evidently he’s well aware, and still considers it acceptable to do exactly as you said.” Victoria sighed, out of breath as though she’d been walking quickly. “Unless he thinks his son will make the approach before the rally and he can deal with it—or we will—so no one else is under threat.”

  “If he is thinking that, he needs to tell us,” Mason said. “That way we can make preparations.”

  Dakota nodded. “And apparently the son is angry. According to the shrink.”

  “She’s probably right.” Victoria sighed, loud enough they all heard it. “He’s going to do something. If we can’t figure out precisely what it is, then the Secretary of State isn’t going to change his plans. He said the rally is too important to miss.”

  “People’s lives are too important,” Mason said. But they were still constrained by the powers that be. If the administration said jump, they jumped.

  Dakota shook her head. “There’s no way his son will pass up the opportunity to make a statement. The Secretary is trying to draw him out. On purpose.”

  “As soon as he lands,” Stanton put in, “I’ll sit him down and make him tell me all of it. I can’t in good conscience allow him to put all those people in danger. Maybe I can change his mind.”

  Victoria said, “You may not have a choice but to keep him safe. He’s been ordering around his staff, getting emails out to everyone. He wants full protection, and if that means getting military personnel in to help with security, then he wants it done.”

  Stanton blew out a breath. “I’m expected to coordinate all that in the middle of a manhunt? Or does he not care that we apprehend his son without loss of life?”

  “That would be the goal.” Victoria paused. “Keep me apprised.” She hung up.

  Dakota sat back in her chair and blew out a breath. “He can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”

  Stanton turned back to his computer. “I suggest the two of you find a lead as to what he’s up to. Fast. If you don’t want to be dragged into security detail for a political rally.”

  Dakota was up and out of the chair before Mason could even formulate a response.

  Mason said, “Pierce. One more thing.”

  She turned back, already at the door. “Make it fast.” Evidently she had somewhere to be.

  “What about Alvarez? Have any of you heard from him?” Last they’d known, he was inside with Yewell and had an undercover guy with him. Whether he was safe, or not, they had no idea.

  “I’ll find out.”

  Mason nodded, and she left. Then he turned back to Stanton. “I need to be on the hunt for Talia, try to find a way to locate where she was taken. That will lead me to Yewell.” It was a stretch, but he was pretty sure he was right.

  The idea of her being back in that nightmare situation was like a rock in his stomach.

  Stanton glanced over, the same frown on his face he’d had when he stared at his computer. “Then you’d better make it fast. You’ve been retasked.”

  “Sir?”

  “It’s all hands on deck, Mason. The rally starts at six tonight, and you will be there.”

  “Sir—”

  “That’s an order. What you do between now and five p.m. when you’re to report to the stadium, is up to you.”

  That meant he had some time left to find her.

  Three hours, to be exact.

  Chapter 24

  A hand pressed on Talia’s shoulder. Her legs folded, and she landed hard on the metal chair.

  “Get to work.” The gruff gunman moved away.

  She glanced at his back, then looked at the hacker, who sat at a desk beside her. “What is this place?”

  It looked like an office that had been cleared of people after a natural disaster. Desks and papers. Overturned chairs. Ceiling tiles hung down, askew. The copier they’d passed in the corner alcove had an OUT OF ORDER sign taped to the top.

  The only thing that was new were the two computers on neighboring desks. Network cables running to a router.

  The hacker shook his mouse.

  Talia wondered what would happen if she did nothing.

  A rustle behind her preceded a man leaning down over her. Hot breath moved against her cheek and her whole body froze. “Get to work.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek.

  He moved away, and she breathed. Jiggled the mouse. The screen flashed to life, and she got a look at the portal they were supposed to hack. Remote access to satellites wasn’t going to work. Talk about obvious that it was being hijacked from the outside. They had to secure the connection as they went. Make it look like they were getting in…from within.

  Like that was actually easy.

  “You want the satellite. I’ll take the stadium?”

  She looked at the hacker. Looked back at the computer. Didn’t answer him.

  Talia typed some, poking around to get the lay o
f the land. This wasn’t going to be easy at all. But if it had been, the hacker would have done it himself.

  Question was, did he need her for real, or just to take focus off him and spite her by dragging her into all this?

  She couldn’t figure out the answer, but the mental image where she grasped the back of his neck and slammed his face against the keyboard in order to induce him to tell her the answer was incredibly satisfying.

  That in itself was disturbing to her. She’d never been a violent person before. Now there was this…cold rage she couldn’t shake. Was that better than being numb? She wasn’t sure.

  “Talia.”

  “What?” The word was barely audible. She didn’t have the wherewithal to make it louder.

  “Satellite, or stadium?”

  She cleared her throat. “We should do the satellite first. One of us gets in, the other follows, closing doors as we go. Covering our tracks.”

  He nodded. “You get in, I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “Fine.”

  If the hacker was occupied, and the gunmen thought she was working with him—cooperating—then she could figure out a way to contact Victoria and the rest of the team. Alvarez was supposed to be on the inside of Yewell’s operation right now. Was he okay? She wanted to see him with her own eyes, but allowing him time to track the man down and take him out was better.

  Yewell needed to be out of play. Off the streets before he did whatever damage he intended to have broadcasted across the world via communications satellites. Cellphones. Online. Like it was easy to literally hijack every server. She didn’t even want to know how they were going to accomplish all that.

  “Well? Are we in?”

  Talia jerked around in her chair. The man who’d strode into the office, third floor, skyline view, was good looking in a banker-out-to-lunch kind of way. Button-down shirt. Tailored slacks and shined black shoes. He’d fixed his hair with gel. Evidently there was time to clean up before a terrorist attack. He should tell that to all the other bad guys the team took down. Her friends would probably prefer to take down clean-shaven suspects instead.

  She shifted her attention beyond him and watched for Alvarez to come in.

  “Time to daydream means we’ve neglected to explain the consequences of your failure.”

  No one else came in.

  She turned back to her computer.

  “Ah, good. I’d hate to have to bring the repercussions down on my men here.”

  Talia started typing. Did it matter what? They probably had no clue what she was doing, and she had no intention of talking to them.

  “The plan is in place.”

  She had no idea if he was talking to her, or not. Was this Yewell? Across from her, the hacker sat completely straight. As though he expected to be hit from behind. This guy needed to say whatever he wanted to say and then get out of here, so she could send her team a message.

  “That’s good, boss.” One of the gunmen spoke.

  Talia worked the problem in front of her. She tried to place her trust in God’s hand and her team. She could string this along, make it take longer, but for what? Yewell would probably have her killed anyway.

  Out the corner of her eye, she saw him move to the hacker. “As soon as the plane lands, I want updates on my father’s location until he arrives at the stadium.”

  This guy was Yewell.

  “Yes, sir.” His voice shook.

  Yewell squeezed his shoulder, hard enough the hacker winced. She’d known he was afraid of the man, but this was more like terror. Had he seen what he could do? Or what he was prepared to order his friends to do?

  She braced for him to move to her next, but he didn’t. She’d been through the worst experience of her life and come out of it intact. Not necessarily whole, but healthy at least. Working to get her life back. Would this time be worse?

  She didn’t want to believe that was even possible, but supposed it could be. Lord…no. She couldn’t handle that. He wouldn’t ask that of her, would He?

  The NSA had found out the girl’s identity. Haley had told her that, back at the office. Why hadn’t she let Haley tell her all of it? Talia wished she’d asked.

  “It’s just a matter of time.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. He was right behind her. Talia couldn’t let Yewell know how afraid she was of him or what he might do to her. He didn’t care enough about her to be interested or make some move specifically directed at her, unless he saw she was terrified. That would energize him, right? Those psychotic tendencies would enjoy the chance to play with her.

  It wasn’t worth the risk. He couldn’t know how terrified she was.

  “Then my father will die, and all his little sycophants can do nothing but watch the flames as they join him.” He chuckled. “It’s a short trip to hell, and one way.” She heard him move away, then say, “Make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “Yes, sir.” One of the gunmen spoke again.

  She glanced over at his back as he moved into the hallway and out of sight. Talia let go of the breath she’d been holding. Her head swam. She felt like throwing up.

  A man moved over and stood close to her back. The barrel of a gun slid into her vision from the side. He pressed it against her cheek. “You heard the man. Get your work done. Or your pretty face has a bullet hole in it.”

  “O-okay.”

  “Good.”

  She bit her lip so hard blood touched her tongue. Talia gave herself a second to just breathe and pray. Her mom was probably doing overtime in her prayer closet. She always seemed to know when Talia needed to be interceded for.

  If she’d ever needed it in her life, it was now.

  . . .

  The Secretary of State was on the ground. His plane had landed, and he was on his way. The announcement had come over the comms, alerting all security for the event. Including all the Secret Service stationed at every entrance.

  Lead on the operation was a Secret Service assistant director Mason had never met before. One who’d assigned him to search any bags being brought in. Everyone that entered had to pass through a scanner.

  The guy had rubbed him the wrong way from the first second. Now he stalked around, eyeing all the local agents as though they were beneath the group from DC. The assistant director stopped and lifted his wrist to his mouth. “Let’s speed this up. The event is about to start soon.”

  And Talia was still who-knew-where.

  Three hours, and he hadn’t been able to find one sign of her.

  Mason motioned the next person up to his checkpoint. He waved a wand in the interior sections of her huge purse. Bursting wallet, loose papers and used tissues. “Thank you.”

  She hurried inside, eager to be at the rally.

  Mason half expected a call to come that the Secretary of State’s convoy had been ambushed, and there was carnage on the highway. Security wasn’t as tight as if the President had come, but it was still sky high. Everything had been in place for the Commander In Chief’s visit. Why not just utilize all the personnel available and keep everyone safe?

  Maybe that was why the assistant director acted like this was a poor use of his time. Probably only wanted to protect the President. Anything or anyone else was beneath him.

  A Secret Service agent passed by Mason, handler to a dog. Sniffing for bombs? Mason wanted to know if anything suspicious had been found. That was the most logical assumption for what Yewell had planned for his father, if he wasn’t going with an ambush on the highway.

  Maybe that wasn’t splashy enough. Maybe he wanted maximum carnage.

  The dog moved on.

  Next guy to step up at Mason’s line was mid-twenties and wore a big, bulky jacket. If he had to pick out of a lineup who was most likely to be a threat, it was this guy. Then the jacket flapped open. Mason flinched. Across the T-shirt were huge letters emblazoned with the current President’s election race slogan.

  The man grinned. “Today is gonna be awesome!” He waved his arms, and Mason
got a nose full of body spray. The guy smelled like a teenage boy going to his first co-ed party.

  Mason forced his body to relax, and smiled. Too tense, he was like a hair trigger. Or a bomb about to go off. Seeing danger everywhere it wasn’t.

  Mason waved the man through, and the next person stepped up. After a while they blurred together, and he was seeing gestures. Watching for tension, or the look in someone’s eye. A different tactic, but no less effective.

  His phone rang. Dakota’s name flashed on the screen of his smart watch.

  He motioned to the agent with him. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Mason had to skirt around a couple of people so the assistant director didn’t see him. He’d get written up for leaving his post, but Stanton could clear it. They knew what was going on. The Northwest Counter-Terrorism Task Force were looking for Talia and the hacker, and they’d made it clear they only communicated through Mason.

  Just another reason for the assistant director—maybe both of them—to be pissed at him.

  Mason wandered down the breezeway. “Armstrong.”

  “No sign of her, so far.”

  He sighed, too disappointed to form the words.

  “We’re still looking.”

  “Okay.” Only the thought that they wouldn’t stop looking until they had found her reassured him.

  Dakota said something, but he couldn’t make it out. He looked around and took a few steps while he listened. Tried to hear.

  A green army jacket had been discarded on the floor, by the wall. Kind of like that guy’s jacket. The man who’d smelled like teenager.

  “Wha…ness.”

  “What? You’re breaking up.” He looked at the screen of his phone, but he had full bars. “Dakota?”

  She said something else. A handful of garbled, broken words.

  “I can’t hear you.” Maybe it was all the concrete surrounding him. He walked to an exit and stepped out into the daylight. Still full bars. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes. That’s way better.”

  “For me, too.” He watched the crowd and looked for suspicious people. It was hard to shake the tendency to protect. To spot the inconsistencies and find the threat in play under the surface. “Weird. What were you saying?”