Silver Fire (Guardians)

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Silver Fire (Guardians) Page 7

by Victoria Paige


  She tried to push him off, but he held her down. He had both hands suddenly on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. She started panicking. “Let me up! Let me up! I swear, I’ll scream!”

  “Look at me. Sophie. Eyes on me,” Derek ordered.

  “No!” Sophie squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Angel, open your eyes. Look—At—Me.”

  His voice was a gentle caress that had a soothing effect that held her growing panic at bay. Sophie blinked her eyes open and stared into concerned chocolate ones.

  “Breathe, Angel. It’s me, Derek. Not anyone else.”

  Sophie felt a warmth envelop her, driving the chill away. Her panic was receding.

  “It’s OK, Sophie, just breathe and keep your eyes on me.”

  Sophie concentrated on her breathing while keeping her eyes trained on Derek’s. After a few minutes, he gave her a crooked grin. “Feeling better?”

  Sophie grinned up at him. “I am. Thanks.”

  Derek knifed off her and gave her a hand up. Helping her straighten her clothes, he murmured, “This is promising.”

  “It is,” Sophie replied, smiling shyly.

  “I’ll call you tonight on the SAT phone,” Derek said. “What time do you think you’ll be home?”

  “Ten or eleven,” Sophie replied.

  Brushing his lips against hers, he lightly ran the back of his hand down the side of her cheek before he turned away and left her office, quietly closing the door behind him. Sophie walked bemusedly to her chair and sat down, lightly touching her lips as she remembered Derek’s drugging kisses. For the first time since Adam, a man had cracked her wall.

  ***

  Braden Connelly had pulled through with flying colors. Sophie was impressed with his ability to carry her demand at such a short notice. Thalia fetched her at 6:00 p.m. sharp from her office and told her if she wanted to make her 8:00 p.m. dinner appointment with Christopher Blackstone, they had to leave soon.

  They had gone back to the bungalow first so she could shower and change. She arranged her platinum blonde hair in a loose sexy up-do and wore her new black cocktail dress. Beth and Stephen were meeting her at the restaurant. Braden pulled up the SUV behind the restaurant. They were going in through the kitchen, and that was all she was going to see of the restaurant because the table reserved was a Chef’s table.

  There were three Chef’s tables; each built into an enclave for some privacy. Christopher was already waiting, and he stood up when she arrived. Braden motioned for Thalia to remain behind while he went to the main dining room to check for Beth and Stephen.

  “My dear girl.” Christopher Blackstone was a tall, distinguished gentleman in his early 50’s. He had thick salt and pepper hair combed back slickly in a polished look. His patrician features hinted strongly of his English ancestry. His parents were British, but they had moved to the United States and had taken up residency in the 1950’s. Blackstone International was started by his father, and with his expansive transcontinental connections, he was able to grow the company into a successful conglomerate of mining and technology industries. Christopher had also been trying to acquire Silver Fire Research for the past year.

  Sophie offered her cheek for the obligatory kiss. “Christopher.”

  He helped her to her seat and sat down beside her, but they had to stand up again when Beth and Stephen showed up. Greetings were exchanged while Thalia and Braden vanished into the background.

  When everyone had finally settled in, their server came by to inquire about cocktails. The Chef’s table had a six-course tasting menu already handpicked and paired with wine, so with the burden of ordering eliminated, the conversation quickly began.

  “So my dear, do the police have any suspects?” Christopher asked with genuine concern.

  “No, not at all,” Sophie replied. “They’re trying to analyze fingerprints from the shell casings but with the fire and the water damage, it doesn’t look very promising. I was hoping you might have an idea?”

  Christopher’s eyebrows furrowed as his whole body stiffened.

  “I mean given your network, you might have heard something,” Sophie added quickly.

  Blackstone relaxed. “There is a rumor about the Abu-Haxa Brotherhood causing trouble in one of our zefinium mines.”

  “I don’t understand why they would go after me? I mean all the way here. That seems to be excessive.”

  “That’s the only link I could see. Have you looked into your business dealings with McCord? It might be one of their competitors in the defense industry?”

  “Do you pay protection money to some mercenary groups to keep the peace?” Beth interjected, obviously wanting to keep the speculations on point. Sophie also hated that Christopher appeared to be deflecting.

  “There is no choice in that matter, Beth,” Christopher replied carefully. “African nations are rife with warlords wanting compensation in exchange for peace. We do our part by providing food, water and medicine directly to the people in these mining towns and we need private military contractors to help deliver those goods. Mercenary is a very derogatory and out-dated term, and are not who we deal with. We prefer to call them security contractors.”

  “I’ve heard rumors of excessive use of force,” Beth added pointedly.

  Just then, their cocktails arrived which saved Christopher from immediately responding, but his jaw had tightened and Sophie started having second thoughts about involving Beth. Stephen, though, was enjoying the exchange as he took a sip of his cocktail. Christopher did the same before clearing his throat and saying, “I cannot refute that at the moment. But if you give me your sources, you can be sure I will look into these allegations. The last thing Blackstone International wants is an incident tarnishing the company’s reputation.”

  “Nice try, Blackstone,” Beth said. “But I’d rather keep my sources to myself right now. Do you have the name of the security firms you use in South Africa?”

  “We use several,” Christopher replied. “As you know, Blackstone Mining has multiple operations on the African continent. I can have my secretary email you a list of security firms we use.”

  “Thank you, Christopher,” Sophie interrupted before her friend could ask another question. She shot Beth a warning glance, hoping her friend would take the hint.

  Christopher smiled indulgently at her. “Have you given further thought to the latest proposal I sent you, dear?”

  “I have actually, and I have not changed my position on this,” Sophie replied. “There is no reason to build such a device.”

  “I have given you my arguments, my dear. Zefinium is a better alternative to plutonium.”

  “But it causes mass destruction just the same,” Stephen interjected.

  “I’m also looking at it from a business point of view. The United States and other countries already have nuclear warheads. If they can be convinced to retire those and replace them with a zefinium alternative, we are talking about trillions of dollars.”

  Beth snorted. “The United States government is trillions of dollars in debt, they can hardly go spend taxpayer dollars to replace their nuclear arsenal.”

  “We are talking long term here,” Christopher replied. “If we already have the technology in place and tested, countries will be in a race to acquire such science. Who do you really think runs the US Government?”

  “Big business, big oil,” Stephen said.

  “Exactly. Do you think these businesses will allow the US to be at the mercy of say, North Korea?”

  “You argue a strong point, Christopher,” Sophie replied. “But I’ve looked at the schematics and I’ve noted my improvements on the design. A device as small as a carry-on suitcase can destroy an area as big as 24 square miles. It can easily fall into the wrong hands and the main threat to national and global security right now are terror cells scattered all over the world.”

  “So you have taken a look at it?”

  Trust Christopher Blackstone to hear only the most
pertinent words, Sophie thought in annoyance. She had more than taken a look at it, she had manufactured three weapons-grade zefinium cores that were, at the moment, in storage. All she needed to do was build the fission reaction trigger and housing and Christopher would get his explosive device. She had no intention performing such a step. The scientist in her was satisfied with her father’s research; it was really time to lay it to rest.

  Their first course had arrived, providing her a reprieve to sit on her information longer. But the devil in her wanted to see what monsters would come crawling out. “Yes, I have.” Sophie took a bite of the foie gras creme brulée—an amazingly rich and creamy dish of pricey goose liver. She ignored the gasp coming from Beth.

  “And?”

  “It works.”

  “Oh boy,” Stephen murmured and Beth glared at him.

  Christopher lowered his spoon and eyed Sophie intently with barely concealed excitement. “Are you telling me—”

  “I have the zefinium cores,” Sophie said, her eyes turned misty. “Dad’s research worked.”

  “He’d be proud of you, dear Sophie.” Christopher lay a comforting hand on top of hers.

  “Well I am not,” Beth hissed. “What were you thinking, Leroux?”

  “Beth—” Stephen warned, voice low.

  “I needed to know,” Sophie said defensively. “You know very well without the special trigger, zefinium is nothing more than a piece of rock, enriched or not. It’s nothing like plutonium.”

  Besides it was located in a bunker 40 feet below the research facility. No one knew of its existence except for her and Stephen.

  “If I didn’t love you to pieces, baby girl, I’d walk out of here,” Beth sighed. “I know how much your dad’s research means to you. But I hope you’re aware of the responsibility that comes with such knowledge.”

  Sophie answered with a feeble smile.

  “Now can we stop talking about mercenaries, weapons of mass destruction and concentrate on this incredible sumptuous dinner instead?” Stephen announced.

  Everyone at the table concurred.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Maia headed down the dimly lit hallways of AGS headquarters. The headquarters were housed in an old building just outside of Georgetown in Washington DC. It appeared to be a one story building from the outside, but it actually had two subterranean levels. The building originally housed some experimental programs run by the CIA. When they abandoned it, Viktor immediately snapped up the place. The entrance to the underground parking was behind the building; only people with clearance were allowed to use it. The first floor held mostly meeting rooms and one of the gyms. The first level below ground held the datacenter and command center, making it the heart of the company. Two situation rooms, containing state of the art communications technology and an arsenal were housed on the same level. The third level had tactical ranges, sparring rooms and three bunkers that doubled as holding cells.

  Maia met her mentor in his glass-walled office located at the mezzanine level overlooking the datacenter. The glass wall provided a panoramic view of the entire datacenter and most of the second level. However, like today, once she stepped into Viktor’s office, he smoked up the glass to ensure the privacy of their meeting. Their lead analyst, Tim Burns, was also in attendance.

  “How are the in-laws?”

  “Good.” It was Thursday morning; she and Jack had gotten back from Richmond the night before.

  “That was another close call, Maia,” Viktor said, referring to the fire Monday evening.

  “Tell me about it.” Maia sighed. “I’m hoping you have something for me.”

  “Christopher Blackstone does not add up,” Tim said. “He has everything to lose if Sophie Leroux is dead.”

  “His enemies then?” Viktor asked.

  “Which one? He has plenty of enemies, but none of them would benefit from the demise of Sophie Leroux.”

  “Postulate,” Viktor said curtly.

  Tim sighed and Maia smiled inwardly. The analyst worked on facts, not scenarios based on assumptions.

  “From Maia’s descriptions, we could say they are mostly black—African Americans.”

  “Or African extremists,” Maia replied. “Christopher Blackstone is rumored to be involved in some of the conflicts there, didn’t you say so, Viktor?”

  “Difficult to confirm. Hearsay,” Tim said.

  “Gut?” Maia prodded.

  “Work this scenario out Tim. The Abu-Haxa Brotherhood is one of the widespread terrorist organizations operating on the African continent targeting mostly mining communities.”

  “They also consider themselves freedom fighters,” Tim replied. “The only thing linking Blackstone, Leroux and Abu-Haxa is zefinium mining. Leroux is less than a percent of Blackstone Mining revenue, it would not dent their profits.”

  “Factor in her father’s research,” Maia said. “What if weapons-grade zefinium becomes a mainstream commodity, can you extrapolate the business growth?”

  “The most is ten percent. You’re talking about freedom fighters here, they do not do strategic business goals,” Tim retorted. “They’re addressing an immediate threat.”

  Viktor sat back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful and then he stood up and paced around a couple of times before turning back.

  “What if they know of this research of Dr. Leroux’s father that can create an explosive device that, for all intents and purposes, functions as a city-wide demolition bomb. Their goal is to make sure Blackstone would never get his hands on this and use it against them.”

  Maia’s eyes widened. “Blackstone won’t blatantly use a bomb.”

  “No. But I know of several outfits in Africa that are unscrupulous enough to use a zefinium bomb to clear out villages that stand in their way,” Viktor said. “It’s brutal over there, Maia. Half the time, the world has no clue what goes on in the depths of Africa. As far as the general public knows, it’s a jungle and not a place where living, breathing people exist. Genocide happens and no one blinks an eye.”

  “Do we have any data on the members on the Abu-Haxa Brotherhood?”

  “Inconsequential. Mortality is very high. I have a file on several of their high-ranking lieutenants, but we haven’t updated it in a while and are not sure if they’re still alive,” Tim said.

  “Run facial recognition on passengers exiting flights coming in from South Africa and Somalia through Dulles and BWI,” Maia instructed. “In the last two weeks. If no hits, go back four weeks.”

  “That’s going to take forever,” Tim grumbled.

  “That’s why it would be a good idea for you to start immediately,” Maia said sweetly.

  The analyst stood up and cast a resigned look at Viktor, who chuckled softly. “You haven’t changed, Katerina, you are still as pushy as ever.”

  “I’ve learned from the master,” Maia teased.

  “Touché.”

  “So, how are Braden and Thalia working out for Dr. Leroux?”

  “I’ve heard no complaints from Dr. Leroux. Connelly is grumbling about Lockwood,” Viktor replied.

  “Jack said Derek is smitten with Sophie. I still have to see it to believe it,” Maia said with a grin.

  “I’m with you there.”

  “I think I’ll drop by Silver Fire Research,” Maia said as she stood up to leave. “Maybe I can get more information out of Sophie.”

  ***

  Derek slid into the booth at the diner facing the Trident Building. Jack had called him early this morning to meet him for breakfast. Their regular server, Bonnie, dropped by with a carafe of coffee and handed him the specials of the day.

  “Where’s your partner in crime?” Bonnie asked as she poured him a cup.

  “He’ll be coming in soon, I’m a bit early,” Derek replied. Amazing how much time he had in the morning when he wasn’t screwing his brains out at night. Forty-eight hours without sex, he should get a medal.

  Bonnie sashayed back behind the counter. She was all tits and ass a
nd had given Derek and Jack more than their fair share of hints that she was available. Jack only had eyes for Maia nowadays, and Derek had no desire to have casual sex with someone whom he might see every day.

  “Surprised to see you here before me,” Jack drawled as he slid into the booth across from him. He grabbed the carafe of coffee and poured himself a cup.

  “What can I say? I turned over a new leaf,” Derek replied as he turned over the menu to check the daily specials.

  “You’re actually serious,” Jack said in an unusual mocking tone that Derek had always used on him.

  “Had myself tested yesterday morning,” Derek informed his friend whose face had broken out into a grin. “I talked to her for almost an hour last night—”

  “You’re truly pussy-whipped,” Jack scoffed.

  “And I had to see her and kiss her yesterday at the lab,” Derek finished. Christ, he truly was pussy-whipped—he did not want to share the intimate facts of his encounter with Sophie with his best friend.

  Jack shook his head, bemused. “Why were you at Silver Fire yesterday?”

  “She talked Braden into letting her have dinner with Christopher Blackstone. I called her a spoiled princess. She hung up on me.”

  “Christopher Blackstone,” Jack frowned. “Why would she do that?”

  “You boys ready to order?” Bonnie asked, interrupting Derek’s reply. They both ordered steak, eggs and hash then gave up their menus to Bonnie.

  “She said she wanted to find out what he knows. She had her Rottweiler with her,” Derek said.

  Jack snickered. “Beth Turner.”

  “You got it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Basically, Blackstone is sending Turner a list of security companies they employ for the protection of their mines.”

  “Which reminds me, Maia headed out to HQ this morning to get her replacement cell phone and meet with Viktor,” Jack said as he checked his watch. “She should be out by now since she met with him real early this morning.” His friend took out his phone and punched a number. No answer. It went straight to voicemail. He hit redial. “So what else is up?” He paused. “Babe?... Thalia?” Jack said, frowning. “Why are you answering Maia’s phone?”

 

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