Covert Evidence

by Rachel Grant

  “He won’t shoot me because I can tell him where the tunnel is—which is what he’s been after all along. I can also offer him the chip. Or the money, if he has any part in that end of the organization.”

  Was Hill simply a man who funded terrorism for his own ends, or was he something more?

  Keith drummed his fingers on the table. “All good possibilities. The organization must be desperate to recover the dough. He needs to cover his ass. And the tunnel—he spent months looking for it. But still, the moment he has what he wants, he’ll shoot you.”

  Cressida paced the length of the room. Maybe they were looking at it from the wrong angle. Every approach hinged on getting close enough to take Hill into custody without tipping him off and getting Ian—and Suzanne—shot. “What if we get the FBI to raid the boat, claiming they got a tip that Ian is on board? Hill would have to cooperate with the FBI.”

  “Admit to Curt you lied and have him send in the FBI to grab Ian?” Keith said.

  “I’m no operative, but I like it,” Lee said from his position at the side of the room, facing a computer while the others sat at the conference table.

  “I am, and I do too,” Sean said.

  “Simple. Straightforward,” Keith said. “But what’s to prevent Hill from shooting Boyd and dumping his body overboard?”

  The words made her shiver. “I guess it depends on the situation on the boat. If Ian doesn’t know Hill’s involved, he’s safe. But if he knows who and what Hill is, Hill would have to shoot Ian before he could let the FBI take him.”

  “Lee, have you been able to isolate any calls to or from Hill?”

  “It’s impossible with the radar interference.” Lee frowned. “He’s probably sending out a blocking signal. I haven’t even been able to pinpoint his GPS location.”

  Keith’s voice took on an edge. “We don’t know where the boat is?”

  “I’ve got it narrowed down to a three-mile area.”

  “What if I call Suzanne?” Cressida asked. “Could you use that to pinpoint the location?”

  “It might help,” Lee said.

  “And it might give us an idea of the situation on the boat,” Trina added.

  Keith met Cressida’s gaze. “Suzanne’s a friendly?”

  “Yes,” Cressida said firmly.

  “Sweetie,” Erica said, “you should know. She was behaving very oddly yesterday. I know she was concerned about you, but it was…intense. Alternating between being bitchy and hostile and demanding. She was nothing like the woman you’ve described.”

  Dread trickled down Cressida’s spine. “Was she a narcissistic diva from hell?”

  Erica grimaced. “Um, yeah.”

  Cressida’s heart broke a little. No, a lot. “She’s on meds for…something. She doesn’t like to talk about it, so I’m not exactly sure. I only know because her doctor changed her prescription once, and she had an…episode. It wasn’t pretty, and she was horrified after. She’s always really, really careful with her pills.”

  “Call her,” Keith said. “Give us your take on her mental shape.”

  “No, text her. Send her a phone number. Ask her to call you,” Lee said. “That way there will be multiple data points for me to monitor.”

  “And if she doesn’t call me back?” Cressida asked.

  “I might be able to tell you if she unlocks her phone and reads the message. Better than rolling into voice mail.”

  “Do it,” Keith said. “I’ve got a cabinet full of burner phones.” He nodded to one of the operatives and slid a key ring across the table. Without a word, the man stood and fetched a phone, while Lee and Keith debated what Cressida’s text should say.

  After the text was sent, they all waited in silence for a response. Cressida jolted when the phone rang not two minutes later. With a nod from Keith and Lee, she answered the call on speakerphone.

  “Cress? Is it really you?” Suzanne said in a soft voice.

  “Suz!” Cressida said, giving her voice the excited pitch Suzanne would expect. “Damn, I’ve had a hell of a week since Antalya.”

  “Is that how long it’s been?” Suzanne’s voice was wispy. Faded.

  “A little longer. Nine days, I think. Why aren’t you in Turkey? The excavation is going for another week.”

  “Patrick…had to return. He knew how worried…I was…for you. So I came back with him.”

  “Hey, are you okay? You don’t sound right.”

  “I think…I think I’m not right. I think…I can’t seem to think. I saw a ghost.”

  A ghost? “Suz, could your meds be off?”

  “I asked Patrick that this morning. Or yesterday. He gave me a drink. I told him no more. It would mess with my meds, but he said my meds are fine. I think…I think I need to break up with him. He’s an ass. Kept pressuring me to talk to your friend Trina. I said no. No.”

  Was that when he started messing with her medication? So he could manipulate her into reaching out to Trina and Erica? Cressida’s heart ached with every rambling word. This wasn’t Suzanne. This was a woman whose meds were so far off, she was discombobulated. To top it off, it sounded like Hill had pushed drinks on her, to keep her in an ethereal state.

  Suzanne was floating, and Cressida needed to pull her back to earth. “Suz? Can I come see you?”

  Beside her, Keith stiffened and glared at her.

  “I’ll ask Patrick. He’s been acting so strange today. I hate this boat. Too many ghosts.”

  “What do you mean by ghost? Who did you see?”

  “He was a shadow. He didn’t want me to see him. Begged me not to tell Patrick... He said I’d die if anyone knew I saw him.”

  “Who, Suz? Who did you see?”

  “Todd. He’s here. Or his ghost is.”

  “They didn’t take your gun when you got on board because Hill is hoping you’ll remain ignorant of who and what he is,” Todros said.

  “Well, you’ve pretty much fucked that up for me, then, haven’t you?” Ian was trying to get a read on the man and was coming up short, but he did believe that in his own messed-up way, Todros was trying to help. “One thing I’m not clear on, Todros, is why you sent the text to lure Cressida to the ferry dock.”

  The traitor met his gaze without flinching. “Zack was reckless and in a hurry. He said he wouldn’t have Cressida mugged while she was on her date with you, but with the money Hejan had stolen, he didn’t have the luxury of waiting to collect the chip when she reached the south—not when someone else could get it first. He planned to have Sabal rob her hotel room while she slept that first night. He told me that if she woke, her throat would be slit, just like Hejan’s. I told him I could draw her out and provide an opportunity to mug her without killing her.”

  “But it was an empty threat. Zack wanted her alive to find the tunnel.”

  “He said he was willing to sacrifice the tunnel to get the disk if need be.” He shrugged. “Or maybe he’d figured out that threatening Cressida would secure my cooperation.” Todros stiffened his spine. “We’re running out of time and options. Are you willing to protect Cressida?”

  Ian glared at the selfish prick who’d created this situation because of nothing more than a bruised ego. “I’d die for her.”

  “You may get that chance, Boyd. But for now, you need to get Suzanne off the boat. Hill messed with her meds to manipulate her, and now he’s going to use her to lure Cressida here. After he gets the chip from Cressida, Suzanne is going to drown in what appears to be a booze-and-bad-meds incident, and Hill plans to make it look like Cressida died trying to save her.”

  Ian’s blood ran cold. Hill’s name must be on Hejan’s list. Add that to the fact that he—according to Todros—owed Russian thugs big bucks, and the man had to be desperate to recover the microchip before his house of cards came tumbling down.

  “Where is Suzanne?” Ian asked.

  “She’s in Hill’s stateroom, sleeping off a drugged cocktail. Your options for getting off the boat are two tenders, Hill’s two-
person submarine, or the helicopter on the deck. Hill has guards on everything.”

  Ian frowned. He had no clue how to pilot a submarine or helicopter, so he’d have to go for one of the tenders. But the first trick would be getting Suzanne. “Where’s Zack?”

  “No clue. He probably fled as soon as he heard Cressida made it back—no way would his version of events hold up against hers for very long. I think he planned to betray Hill. I got the impression he was after the chip—and the money—for himself all along.”

  Ian could believe that. He just wondered how Zack had gotten hooked up with Hill in the first place. He studied Cressida’s ex. “What about you, Todros? Why aren’t you asking me to get you off the boat?”

  The younger man shrugged and opened the stateroom door. “There’s only one way this will end for me. I realized that the moment I saw a man I respected and admired slit a Kurdish dissident’s throat.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “I’m going. You can’t stop me, but you can help me,” Cressida said.

  “You can’t, Cressida,” Keith said.

  “I’ll give him the tunnel location. The money. A copy of the chip. I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I need to get Suzanne and Ian off that boat.” She glared at each person at the table.

  “The moment Hill realizes you know what he is, he’ll shoot you,” Keith reminded her.

  “No. He won’t, because I can’t tell him where the tunnel is if I’m dead, and I’ll make sure he knows I won’t tell him a damn thing if Ian or Suzanne are dead.” Her eyes burned with suppressed tears. She couldn’t fall apart now. Keith would never agree to take her to the boat if she did.

  “He’ll kill you after he gets what he wants,” Sean said. “He’s in too deep. Once he realizes the extent of what you know, he’ll go into panicked cover-up mode. You aren’t going, Cressida. Period.”

  The phone on the table in front of her rang, startling everyone. “It’s not Suzanne’s number,” she said.

  “Answer it on speaker,” Keith instructed.

  She did, and Dr. Patrick Hill’s ingratiating voice greeted her. “Cressida! I hope you don’t mind, but I got your number from Suzanne. She said you’d called.”

  “Dr. Hill—P—atrick,” she added with an embarrassed laugh, imitating the adoring grad student she used to be. “Yes, I called. I was surprised to hear she’s in the area and not in Turkey.”

  “Yes, well, she was too worried about you to be any good for the excavation. Diving when one is anxious and stressed is dangerous, as I’m sure you know. It wasn’t just Suzanne, I’m afraid the whole project had to be shut down.”

  She caught the censure in his tone, as if it were her fault. “Um…I’m sorry?” She shook her head. She needed to rein in her tongue and be the sycophant grad student he expected her to be. She couldn’t hint that she knew who—what—he was.

  “Well,” Hill said with an awkward laugh. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to ruin the project.”

  “Hardly. It was a hell of a research trip.” She tagged on her own nervous laugh.

  “Listen, I’m calling because you may have guessed from talking to Suzanne that she’s not well. I don’t know what to do. She refuses to see a doctor, no matter how much I beg. I’m wondering… Would you come out to the boat? Maybe you can talk some sense into her and get her to go to the doctor.”

  Cressida didn’t bother to look toward Keith for approval, because she had no doubt he wouldn’t give it. “Of course. I can probably get a boat to give me a ride out there, if you’ll tell me where to find you.”

  “I’ll send a tender. Be on the dock at my estate in an hour.”

  Keith bumped her shoulder, forcing her to meet his gaze. He frowned at her and held up two fingers.

  “Better make that two hours, Patrick. I need to borrow a car, and the drive will take some time.”

  “Of course. I understand.”

  “See you then.” She clicked off the phone and met Keith’s angry gaze with her own defiant one. “I’m going. You can’t stop me.”

  “I don’t have to give you a car.”

  “Let’s not waste time arguing and start planning. We can assume he invited me because he either wants the chip or the tunnel location. He probably hopes I’m willing to give them up to save Ian and Suzanne. Which I am. If nothing else, I can buy time while you figure out a way to grab Hill. I’m going to need a gun and a wire.”

  The room fell silent. Finally, Erica cleared her throat. “The best way to approach a boat at night is with scuba.”

  Lee looked sharply at his wife. “No way, Erica. You aren’t an operative.”

  She smiled and touched his hand. “I wasn’t suggesting myself. But what if…Cressida goes to the boat so we can get the GPS location and distracts Hill long enough for the former SEALs here to slip on board?”

  Cressida watched Keith’s reaction to the suggestion. Her guess was he didn’t hate it, but he didn’t like it either.

  “I hate hate hate the idea of Cressida stepping into the line of fire—of any of you being at risk,” Trina said. She met her boyfriend’s gaze, then looked away, and Cressida knew she was afraid. “But isn’t it simple military strategy to take calculated risks to better your odds of success?”

  “We’re talking about a coordinated rescue operation. Our goal wouldn’t be to take out Hill. It would be to provide an avenue for escape for Suzanne, Ian, and Cressida, then let the FBI swoop in and arrest Hill.” Keith met the gazes of the operatives around the table. “You men up for it? We don’t have a contract for this, and there could be legal trouble on the back end. Volunteers only.”

  One by one all the men around the table nodded.

  “Okay, then. Sean, you’ll drive Cressida to the dock. Try to catch a ride on the tender, but if the skipper balks at taking you, don’t put up a fuss.”

  Sean shook his head. “No way am I sitting this one out on the dock.”

  “I’ll drive her,” Trina said.

  Keith’s eyes flattened. “No.”

  “I’ll stay on the dock. If Hill hears a Raptor operative delivered Cressida to the meet point, he’ll know something’s up. But with me, he’ll think the opposite. Because no way would my boyfriend let me anywhere near Hill’s boat if we were suspicious of him, right?”

  Keith frowned, then gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Josh and I will each lead teams in the water, Sean, I’d have you lead, but you’ve been on duty more than off in the last week. Your call if you’re fit to dive.”

  “I’m good.”

  Josh Warner, who Cressida knew had served as a SEAL with Keith, asked, “Do we have intel on how many are on the boat?”

  “A minimum of five,” Erica said. “Hill generally acts as his own skipper, but he has a small crew he takes out for the multiday trips, so there’s always someone at the helm. I know he had to scramble this time, but he told me when he sailed that two men he trusted to keep mum about Ian were on board. He may have lied about the number. The boat houses fifteen crew members, easily.”

  “Who do we know is on board?”

  Erica shrugged. “Ian, Suzanne, two crew members, and Hill.”

  “Don’t forget Todd. Suzanne said he’s there,” Cressida added.

  “There’s also a chance Zack Barrow is there,” another operative said. “We lost him after he was debriefed at Langley. So we’ll plan on fifteen, count on seven, and hope it’s only six.”

  “Erica, you’ve been on Hill’s boat several times,” Keith said. “What can you tell us about the layout?”

  She smiled. “I can do better than tell you. I’ve got the plans.” She glanced at Lee. “Can you access our home computer from here? I think I have a backup of the proposal there. Otherwise, I’ll have to drive to the office.”

  “Sure thing, Shortcake.”

  “How’d you manage to get Hill’s plans?” Josh asked.

  “Several months ago, I put in a proposal to have Hill map a Navy Helldiver wreck that’s off the Carolina coast. Becau
se the insurance on the boat, mini sub, and helicopter is insane, the Navy needed full specs before they’d approve it.”

  “Sweet,” Josh said.

  For the first time, Cressida thought that maybe, just maybe, this insane operation had a chance. And as long as she didn’t think about how horrible Suzanne sounded on the phone, she could breathe.

  “We’re in luck. I found the plans,” Lee said. “Keith, turn on the projector?”

  With the flip of a switch, the lights in the room dimmed, and drawings of the luxury sea-exploration yacht filled the screen mounted to the back wall.

  Keith stepped to the side of the screen and tapped his upper lip as he studied the projected image. Finally he said, “Okay, this is how we’re going to approach…”

  Ian strolled down the deck alongside the rigging for the tenders, noting that one of the two inflatable boats was in use, as the cables that held it suspended above the water hung empty, flapping in the light breeze that swept across the Chesapeake. A crewmember lounged nearby, seemingly idle. He had to be the guard Todros had mentioned.

  Ian needed to grab Suzanne from Hill’s stateroom, get her onto the remaining tender, and lower the boat, ideally without alerting the guard.

  He leaned his forearms on the rail as if lost in thought, and studied the boat-lowering mechanism. Getting the boat on the water wouldn’t be a problem. He could leave right this minute without a hitch, but there was no way he could leave Suzanne behind.

  He faced the crewmember. “I’m turned around. Which way to Dr. Hill’s stateroom?” Ian knew exactly where the stateroom was. He’d been given the deluxe tour when he was plucked from the water in the predawn hour.

  The guard frowned and nodded toward a flight of stairs that led up to the helipad. “It’s aft. The deck below the landing pad.”

  Ian nodded. He moved closer to the man. If this were Turkey, he’d ask him if he had a cigarette and drop him while the man reached in his pocket. But smoking was far less common here, and therefore an obvious ploy. Instead, he said, “What’s the deal with Hill’s girlfriend? Is she whacked or what?”