by Liliana Hart
“Do you think the cameras have live feed?” Grace asked.
“We’ll find out about two minutes after we breach the front door. It looks like a key-code security system. The windows are sensored, and there’s probably a trip wire and a secondary system once you get past the key code.”
“It’s a pity Standridge didn’t have Ethan design his system. I very rarely find a challenge nowadays. It took me fifteen full minutes to get into his apartment the other morning.”
She could see Gabe’s teeth gleam in the light. “It took me eight. Though he never knew I was inside. Do you want to do the honors?” Gabe asked, holding out his hand as if to say “Ladies first.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re faster. Be my guest.”
The back entrance was surrounded by a black, wrought iron fence, and Gabe had his pick in the lock and the gate swinging open in a little over two seconds. He strode up to the back door like he owned the place, and Grace kept her position at the gate so she could keep watch up and down the alley.
Gabe had the door unbolted and the cover off the keypad by the time she looked back. She shook her head in pure appreciation. He could have made a hell of a living on the other side of the law. He held a screwdriver between his teeth, and his fingers were sure and steady as he cut wires and disarmed the system.
Grace left the gate open and went to join him inside the building. She pulled out her weapon and kept quiet as Gabe dealt with the secondary system. The cameras panned and scanned, and if someone was watching on the other end, things were going to get interesting real soon. If the cameras recorded straight to video, then it would all be destroyed anyway, and they’d get away free and clear. It was a chance they’d have to take either way.
“Done,” Gabe said. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Grace looked at her watch. “Four minutes start to finish. Not too shabby.”
He gave her a smile that made her pulse jump and then headed further into the building. A series of see-through cubicles ran the length of the space, and she assumed they were different testing areas. Each one had a separate entry door with its own security system. The cubicles were sealed across the top, keeping whatever was going on inside completely contained.
“Damn,” Grace said. “This is going to make things more difficult.”
“Maybe not. Logan gave me something new he’s just developed. It would go faster if we could get into each room and start a separate charge, but it’ll work just fine with one point of acceleration.”
Gabe looked quickly into each room and chose the one that was obviously Standridge’s main research room. Mathematic formulas were written along the clear walls, and maps were spread across every surface. He bypassed the security and opened the door.
“All of these rooms are connected to one electrical circuit,” Gabe said, squatting down next to the baseboard and unscrewing the plate that covered the electrical outlet.
“How does the bomb work?”
Gabe sliced plastic coverings and exposed the raw wires and then pulled out a tiny glass vial.
“Logan wouldn’t tell me what the hell was in it when I asked, but the basic concept is that once the liquid touches the wires it travels through the entire electrical circuit. It works like an acid and a combustive at the same time, the heat getting so intense that it melts everything surrounding the wires. Once the wires reach a certain temperature, they spontaneously combust, which causes small explosions at each major circuit point.”
“How long from start to finish?”
“Anywhere from five to ten minutes is what Logan said.” Gabe carefully pulled the dropper from the glass vial and placed one drop on the exposed wires.
“Well, that’s rather anticlimactic, don’t you think?”
“There’s nothing like the satisfaction of a big boom,” he agreed.
Several car doors slammed from the street side.
“We may get a big boom one way or another.” Grace checked her clip and then moved back to the alley entrance. She ducked behind the doorframe just as the wood splintered above her head.
Gabe took position on the other side, and Grace hunkered low against the wall. Something that smelled like burning plastic reached her nostrils just as a barrage of shots was fired into the open door. Gabe held up a small mirror, shielding the glare with his hands so the enemies couldn’t pinpoint their exact location.
“I see three,” he whispered. “Ten, two, and three o’clock. All slightly downhill from our position.” The door at the front of the building rattled as someone tried to get inside and trap them from the other direction.
“Got it.” Grace scooted down so she lay flat on her stomach. She waited until another shot was fired and she could tell exactly where he was standing and what angle she needed to fire. “Gotcha.” She leaned out slightly and fired. All she heard was a groan in response.
“Hurry,” Gabe said.
Smoke started to fill the room, and she was glad she was down on the floor. Breathing was almost impossible as it was. More shots were fired at them, and she quickly leaned out and fired back in quick succession.
They were already up and running by the time the third body dropped to the ground. Gabe grabbed her hand and pulled her with him down the alley. Shots fired behind them as they dodged and weaved between dumpsters and trees. Gabe started the Audi with the keyless remote, and they both dived into the car. He already had the pedal pressed down and the car speeding through the parking lot by the time she got the door closed.
“Holy shit. Did you see what happened to that building? It practically melted around us.”
“Logan gets a raise,” Gabe said. He joined the traffic along Cambridge Street and blended in perfectly with the other cars. There was no sign of anyone behind them.
“Though I’m not too fond of the smell.” Grace sniffed her clothes and grimaced. “Melted building isn’t exactly my perfume of choice.”
“I’ll flip you for the first shower.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we just share?”
“Why don’t we?”
Grace laughed as Gabe sped the rest of the way back to the airport.
* * *
William Sloane leaned his head back against the leather chair that sat behind his desk and groaned at the feel of the wet mouth around his cock. He didn’t know the girl’s name. Didn’t particularly care. She’d be paid for her time and her silence, and if she was good enough, he’d ask her back.
He held her head in a firm grip under his fingers and squeezed tighter as she whimpered with the pain. The sounds of her discomfort brought him closer to the edge, and he thrust against her mouth.
“Suck harder, you stupid bitch.”
He felt the release boil in his balls and groaned as he pumped come down her throat. God knows he needed it after the week he’d had, and it had been ten years since his wife had given him a decent hard-on.
He pushed the girl back, and she fell to her hands, gasping for breath at his brutal assault. He pulled an envelope filled with money off his desk and threw it on the ground beside her. His private line rang, and he took the time to zip himself up and straighten his clothes before he answered.
“Be here tomorrow,” he told the girl as she righted her own clothes. “Same time.”
He answered the phone, hoping whoever was on the other end had good news for him.
“Hello,” he said.
“Mr. Sloane, this is Darius Cole at the communications center. I’ve just sent out a team to the property you own on Trowbridge in Boston. You told me to keep a special eye on it, and sure enough, a couple of folks showed up there about fifteen minutes ago.”
Sloane grabbed the whore’s wrist before she could leave his office, and she squealed as he squeezed hard.
“What happened? Why didn’t you call me immediately?” he asked.
“I’m sorry to say, sir, that two subjects bypassed security and entered the building. I sent our security teams out firs
t, assuming they could handle the problem. Video shows a male and female—not yet identified—set off some type of device, and the building has been completely destroyed. They also managed to kill three of the team I sent out.”
“I see,” Sloane said. His voice was soft and deadly, and the strength of his rage caused his hands to shake.
“Tell Standridge I’m on my way to the site, and I expect him to be there to meet me.” Sloane moved to hang up the phone, but his man on the other end stopped him.
“That’s the other news I’m sorry to give you, sir. The police and fire rescue were called to the property you secured for him in Back Bay this evening. It seems that an explosion destroyed the home, and Standridge was purported to still be inside at the time. They’ll search for his remains once the fire cools, but it doesn’t look hopeful.”
Sloane hung up the phone on his man’s apology, his anger so all consuming he was afraid he might have blacked out for a few moments. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, and he threw the phone across the room, finding satisfaction in the sound as it crashed against the wall.
The girl cringed and tried to move away from him, but she just brought his attention to focus directly on her. He backhanded her across the cheek and then did it again before she had time to fall to the ground.
“Get up, bitch.” Her lip was split and bled, and her eye was already swelling shut. “I said, ‘get up.’”
He pulled her up by the neck and threw her against the desk, not caring as she landed hard against the objects that littered its surface. Terror filled her eyes as he clawed at her clothing. She was a whore—a receptacle for the rage that had to escape.
She screamed as he thrust into her hard, and he hit her again just to shut her up. Blackness filled his vision as he pounded away, and his hands squeezed tight around her throat until she stopped fighting back. He stiffened and came inside her, and he didn’t even notice she was dead until he pulled out and fell back into his chair.
His breath heaved, and his pulse slowly returned to normal. He straightened his clothes and picked up the phone to call his butler.
“Peters, I have a mess that needs to be cleaned up in the office. Please see to it immediately.”
William Sloane grabbed the keys to his car and slipped out the back door, leaving the dead whore to his butler. He was going to look at the surveillance tapes and find whoever was trying to thwart his plans. And when he found out who they were, he was going to hunt them down like dogs and kill them slowly.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Well, you two look…rested.” Jack had his feet propped up on the conference room table and his hands folded over his stomach. He’d been waiting for Gabe to walk through the door ever since he’d gotten the call that their plane had landed at Heathrow.
“I didn’t know you missed me so much,” Gabe said. “Your adoration is making me a little uncomfortable.”
“Up yours. Your ugly face is the last thing I want to see.” He turned to Grace and gave her a wicked smile. “Hello, beautiful. Did you miss me?”
“I could hardly think of anything else. What happened to your arm?”
Jack sighed and let his feet hit the floor. The sore ribs were a nuisance, and he did his best to ignore them. “I ran into a couple of friends while you guys were off globetrotting.”
“Oh, yeah?” Gabe asked. “Anyone we know?”
“Not in the flesh. I was able to get a name out of one of them. I’ve had Ethan doing a little background check for me, and I think you’ll be interested in seeing what we’ve found.”
“Let’s go then. I’ll put my stuff away and meet you at Ethan’s.”
“I’ll take it,” Grace said, grabbing the black bag he carried. “I’ve got to take mine anyway. See you in a few minutes.”
Jack waited until she got on the elevator before he spoke. “Things seem a little easier between the two of you. I’m glad to see you scratched your itch. It’s not so obvious now.”
“I wouldn’t say things are easier between us,” Gabe said. “We’re still feeling our way. There are a lot of things we have to work through.”
They waited for the elevator to come back down and got on, hitting the button for the third floor, where Ethan’s apartment was.
“Just be patient, my friend. At least she still loves you.” Jack knew better than anyone what it felt like to love and have that love thrown back unwanted. If Grace still loved Gabe, then Gabe was sure to come out on top.
“I want you to keep an eye on Grace,” Gabe said. “I’m worried about her. Really worried.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t want to be waist deep in shit while we’re in Iran and have to worry about her too. Just stay close to her if I’m not around. She might need you.”
“Is it her health? Her personality has changed a bit. She’s harder than she was, and not as easy to laugh. She’s not hiding her feelings as well as she once did, either, but I haven’t noticed anything alarming.”
“She’s holding on by a thread. She’s got a lot of guilt inside. And I have a feeling she hasn’t really given herself the chance to grieve.”
“We can’t take her on a mission like that, Gabe. You, of all people, know it as well as I do. She’ll be a liability to all of us.”
“She needs to go, and I need to have her there. All I’m asking is that you keep an eye on her.”
Jack shook his head as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out. “I hope you’re not making a mistake, my friend. But I’ve got your back.
“You guys have good timing,” Ethan called out as they walked through his door. “Here’s our man.”
Ethan sat behind a black, U-shaped console that dominated the middle of the room. Every part of Ethan’s computer system was built into the console, and as Jack got closer, he could see what looked like five or six separate screens underneath the clear surface of the desktop. Ethan’s fingers flitted across the surface of the desk with ridiculous speed, so he looked like some sort of mad scientist, moving and shifting pieces of information from one location to the other with just a touch of his finger.
The first wall screen displayed an image of a man Jack didn’t know, but he recognized the type. He was tall and broad shouldered. Lots of muscle. His hair was buzzed short in the picture, and his eyes were muddy brown and mean. He looked like a SEAL at first glance, and the thought gave Jack a bit of unease that one of his brothers could be involved in this.
“Definitely has a military background by the looks of him.”
“You’d be right,” Ethan said. “Shawn Kimball was USMC Force Recon with two tours of duty under his belt before he retired. Sniper specialty. He was then recruited by Uncle Sam.”
“You’re shitting me,” Gabe said. “He was CIA?”
“It’s buried deep, but it’s there. He didn’t do as good of a job at wiping his records as you did.”
Jack whacked Ethan on the back of the head for admitting to Gabe that he’d been trying to poke through his classified files. The kid definitely suffered from foot-in-mouth disease.
Ethan rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry,” he said to Gabe. “I was curious.”
“Right. So where is Kimball now?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. Actually, it’s the twenty-million-dollar question. Kimball went rogue in the middle of a mission to intercept millions of dollars worth of museum-quality jewels from the Russian Federation while on their way to China. No one’s seen Kimball or the jewels since. But I found his Swiss bank account and another in the Caymans that both have tidy sums in them.”
“So we can assume that Kimball is now for hire,” Jack said. “A man who has those kinds of talents is dangerous out on his own.”
“Who’s paying his bills now?” Gabe asked. “Any luck with that?”
“Kind of.” Ethan fingers tapped another pattern across the desktop and another screen came up on the wall. “The Munich Exchange has made several deposits
in his Swiss account. On the surface it looks like a Wall Street brokerage firm. They have dealings worldwide and offices in just about every major trading center. No CEO of record, though. The Munich Exchange is owned by the Darwin Corporation, which is owned by Führer International. I can’t find a common name or a figurehead that pieces all of them together. But when you put all three of these companies into the computer, this is what comes up.”
Jack let out a long, low whistle. Someone had an intense fascination with Hitler. A surge of adrenaline hit his bloodstream and got his heart pumping. That was a cocky mistake for their enemy to make. They were close to finding the bastard. He could feel it.
Gabe leaned around Ethan and began scrolling through the information with a practiced hand. “Ethan, I want a full background check on every scientist involved with the original Passover Project. I want to know everything about them, down to what kind of toothpaste they used and every relative they had, no matter how distant.”
Ethan blew out a breath and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Just so you know, that’s a massive undertaking. Even for me. It could take weeks to put all of it together.”
“Then you’d better get started. Pull Kimball back up.”
Ethan did as he was told, and Jack watched Gabe, wondering what his friend saw that none of the rest of them did. Gabe had a mind like a computer and could put pieces of the puzzle together better than anyone he knew.
“Something about him—” Gabe broke off, shaking his head. “If we’ve ever met, he was obviously in deep cover. Who was Kimball’s handler at the CIA?” Gabe asked.
“Let’s see.” Ethan’s finger flew across the desk as he hacked his way into CIA files. He whistled tunelessly under his breath as he worked, and the computer screen filled with jumbled numbers and letters before it cleared into an understandable language.
Kimball, Shawn F. popped up on the screen, and Ethan tapped it with his finger, scrolling quickly through the information.
“It looks like Assistant Deputy Director Derrick Kyle with Weapons Intelligence.”