His face went from pale to ghostly white. “Who’s in charge? I want your boss’s name.”
Tasha raised her hand. “That’s me.”
Ward enjoyed the drop. For one second in a shitty couple of weeks, he wanted to laugh. The look of shock on the other man’s face was priceless. “Yeah, she’s the boss.”
The older man gasped as he tried to gulp in air. “What the hell is this place?”
“You don’t need to worry about who we were. Be more concerned about what we can do to you. What we do to terrorists.” The practiced way Tasha said it sounded as if she were reading from a manual. Precise and clear.
“For the record, that’s how we refer to your son.” Ward nodded. “As a terrorist.”
Anthony’s body slumped. It looked as if all the fight seeped out of him and took a good deal of what was left of his life with it. “No, he wouldn’t—”
“Yes, he clearly did.”
Anthony’s mouth dropped open as his eyes glazed over. “He’s a scientist.”
He repeated the phrase several times, more to himself than the room. He’d clearly suspected something had been going on and made up excuses and lies to cover for Trent. Now he knew the kid had blown well past a simple screw-up that daddy could smooth over.
“You knew something wasn’t right,” Tasha said.
“Trent’s always been . . . different. He was working long hours and his boss said he was on this special project.” Anthony shook his head. “I tried to find out more, used all my contacts. Went to his lab and got turned away before getting through the gates.”
The man was lost in his thoughts but his words kept flowing. Ward wanted to encourage that. “And?”
“I needed Shay not to worry while I figured it all out, so I lied to her.” Anthony’s head shot up and his face pulled taut. “He’s just a kid.”
Ward could tell by the reaction that reality had begun to sink in and make sense in the man’s mind. Anthony didn’t get indignant. Didn’t throw around his status or talk about his money and power. He took the news like a body blow. Looked only a few short steps before catatonic.
In that minute, Ward knew in his gut that Anthony wasn’t involved. He might be crappy father and an all-around dick, but not a traitor to his country. This guy cared about public perception. He was demanding, and according to his file could be ruthless in business. He walked the line on appropriate behavior in some of his contracts and might have crossed it once or twice, but he wouldn’t take this last step.
“Trent stole a lethal toxin from his workplace and threatened to wipe out half of DC yesterday, all while holding your niece and others hostage at the museum. That story on the news was absolutely real. You probably saw some of the footage,” Tasha explained, dropping the pretense and using her British accent.
“You did a great job with him, by the way.” The rub was unnecessary and Tasha scowled at Ward to let him know it.
Not that Anthony even acknowledged it. He shook his head and stared at Ward, then Tasha. “I want to see Trent.”
“No one is going to see Trent for a while.”
Anthony shoved back his chair and started to get up. “You can’t—”
“Sit down.” Ward waited until the other man obeyed. “The only good news for you is that the more time passes, the less likely it is I think you’re involved in all of this.”
“Me?”
“Your son has a partner.”
Anthony dropped his head in his hands. “This can’t be happening.”
“Maybe this will convince you.” Tasha unfolded her arms and showed off the small remote in her hand. A few clicks and a screen lowered on the wall to reveal the scene from the museum already playing.
Seeing the footage again rocked Ward. They’d dodged a catastrophe. He could have been looking at the cleanup of a lot of dead bodies and mourning the loss of his men. Ford and his team had prevented a disaster, but the danger was far from over.
Ward pointed to the image of Trent putting Shay in a stranglehold. “I especially like the part where he talks about the first ten thousand deaths he’ll cause. That’s coming up.”
Anthony squinted and leaned in. “Is that Ford Decker?”
“He works for me.”
Anthony started to say something but he ended up mumbling, and Ward couldn’t catch it.
“I can tell from your expression you’re starting to see how big this situation is.”
“Is Shay okay?” Anthony actually sounded concerned.
“Your entire family is in a load of shit.” Really only one of them, but if it worked to let Anthony think the whole clan was going down, Ward was fine with that.
“I didn’t do anything. I would never . . .” Anthony closed his eyes. “I don’t know anything about a toxin.”
Tasha glanced up at Ward before responding. “Then help us figure out who does.”
28
FORD FOLLOWED West into the main briefing room. Putting one foot in front of the other took all his concentration. Every time he let his mind wander or closed his eyes, he saw Shay’s pale face.
He could pinpoint the exact moment when she went from trying not to believe to realizing he’d used her all along. He would see her shredded expression for the rest of his life. His chest still ached, and not from the pounding she gave him. He would let her hit him all day, hell, give her his gun, if it helped wash away some of her anguish at being betrayed.
That made him one more man in her life who’d betrayed her. She’d said Devin had treated her better, and Ford wondered if she was right. They both used her. The difference was, he actually loved her, but that wouldn’t matter now that he’d crushed her.
His sins wouldn’t wash away that easily. The wounds he inflicted festered like open sores. He’d seen anger and confusion and blinding pain in her eyes.
He almost envied her, because he couldn’t feel anything. He loved her but that was buried deep under a pile of guilt. He planned to wrap all of it up and use those emotions right now to tear Matt apart.
West moved in front of their guest turned prisoner. “Matt, you are about to have a very bad day.”
“No.” He shook his head as his gaze bounced from West to Ford. “I’ve told you everything.”
Ford hated this guy. Hated everyone involved in this case. Wanted to rip them all to shreds and burn the ground behind them. “Just like you told us everything but then later remembered about all the vials Trent stole, and how you basically escorted him to the parking lot? Try again.”
Grabbing the yellow legal pad in front of him, Matt tapped the lines of writing. “I’m cooperating.”
Ford had no idea what the guy had written and didn’t care. He wanted to hear Matt say the words. Look his accusers in the eye as he admitted all he’d done. “You’re going to be dead in two minutes unless you tell the rest of the story.”
“There is no rest.” Gone was the pontificating preener who clearly thought he was smarter than everyone else. Matt hung on the verge of tears as he dropped the pretense.
It was a shame Ford still knew he was lying.
“Benton.” Ford dropped the name and waited.
Matt frowned. Almost looked genuine. “Who?”
“Nice try.” Just went to show, book smarts didn’t have anything to do with street smarts. “I didn’t say Benton was a who.”
“Dumbass.” West mumbled it under his breath.
“See, Matt, I just watched some stupid prick hit my girlfriend and threaten to kill thousands of people.” Ford stumbled over “girlfriend” but kept going. “She’s angry, which makes me angry. My patience is gone.”
West took out one of his weapons, a Glock, and ran a finger along the side. “And I like to shoot things.”
“What?”
“By things I mean people.”
Matt
tried to push back but was handcuffed to the table, and the chain didn’t let him get far. “You can’t do this.”
West nodded. “We are.”
Looked like it was time for a walk down memory lane. They’d held back before. Not this time. Ford made a promise that this was the last time he’d walk into this room to get information from Matt. Bureaucrat or not, he either spilled now or left the building in a body bag. “Remember what happened when West hit you? I think you might have cried.”
West scoffed. “That was a damn embarrassment.”
Ford shook his head. “Imagine what he’ll do when I let him go and don’t try to restrain him.”
“I need a lawyer.”
Matt asked for the wrong professional, as far as Ford was concerned. “A mortician might be the better choice.”
“I’m going to start shooting in one minute.” West checked his watch then aimed the gun at Matt’s head.
He was squirming now. Shifting and ducking as he pulled on the bonds confining him. “No, you can’t—”
“I’ll start with your foot then maybe go to your knee.” West moved the barrel of the gun through the air as he talked. “It’s kind of my specialty area. Knowing where to hit to inflict the most pain.”
Matt looked to Ford, pleading with his eyes and then his words. “For God’s sake, stop him.”
Funny how people brought up God at a time like this. It never failed. Lawyers and God, the two staples of the guilty. “No, see, I asked him to come in here and do this favor for me.”
“The gut shot will be the rough one.” West made a tsk-tsking sound. “You won’t die immediately but you’ll want to.”
“Let me out of here.” Matt started screaming. He yelled about his title and who he worked for. Said something about the people he knew and how they’d all be sued.
Ford waited until Matt exhausted himself and wound down again. “In case you’re unclear, that’s not going to help. This is a sealed room. You’re in one and Trent is in the other.”
West slid a thigh on the edge of the desk and leaned in as if talking to Matt man-to-man, just shooting the shit. “How long do you think pretty boy will withstand the torture? Trent is in there nursing a bullet wound. He’ll crack fast.”
“First one to break wins.” Actually, no one won. That’s how this worked. Everyone was going down for this mess. Ford vowed that would be the case, and Ward and Tasha had promised to back him up. “You tell us what we need to know and we put in a good word for you with the prosecutor. Hell, we’ll let you have a trial instead of deciding your fate and locking you up somewhere nasty without anyone knowing.”
“I want immunity.” Matt nodded, looking more secure in his position. Like he’d hit upon the right solution.
West snorted. “Now you’re just wasting our time.”
He got up and came around to the same side of the table as Matt. Pulling the chair out as far as the chain would allow, West kicked out Matt’s leg and aimed at his foot.
The guy begged and tried to push West’s massive frame away. Finally he threw his head back and looked at them through his panicked panting. It took all of five minutes to bring the egomaniac to his knees. “Stop!”
Ford beat back the satisfaction soaring through him because this was far from over. “Say something worthwhile.”
“Trent needed money because I was in here and couldn’t get him what I promised to help him wait this out. He’d moved forward with the plan on his timetable and taken the toxin before I could get all of the funding and resources in place at the beginning.”
That explained the part that never made sense to Ford, but he did wonder if the game went deeper than Matt knew. “He probably also thought about taking the cash and leaving town with the vials and cutting you out completely, but go on.”
“There’s a sale coming up.”
“The auction.” Ford balled his hands into fists to keep from launching at Matt. The guy acted like it was no big deal he conspired to open the floodgates to a new form of chemical warfare.
“Yes, exactly.” Talking now, Matt didn’t stop. “A man approached me about making some money. I knew Trent believed the government was stealing his ideas by taking control of the toxin and not giving him enough credit. He’d complained during his review and tried to take the issue over my head. The kid didn’t understand how this works.”
Ford had heard enough about Trent. Now he needed to know about this other man. “You put the two of them together, the man and Trent.”
“And collected a check,” West said.
“Bad investments and a divorce that—”
“Spare us.” Jesus, if Matt went down the road seeking pity, Ford might just take out his gun and shoot him right now. “Where does Benton fit in?”
“I have no idea who that is.”
Ford found that believable. Matt was too low on the power chart to deal directly with Benton. The guy hadn’t been seen in years. No way would he pop out to negotiate with a scientist.
That made it more likely Matt’s contact was the mole, someone with access and resources who might know how to contact Benton. Who might work right in this building. “Who was the guy you talked with?”
“I never got a last name. He refused to give it.” Matt sped up when West shifted positions. “He’s British with dark hair. He claimed to have a black ops background and a way in. His documents and leads checked out. He said he could find a buyer for the toxin, and I left that part to him.”
Ford turned the description over in his head. It all fit. He could see how this played out. Matt, however, seemed clueless about the extent of his fuck-up. “You know what that makes you, right?”
West exhaled. “A terrorist.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Matt kept shifting around in his seat. He twisted and turned as he looked from Ford to West and back again. “The plan was to make some money and have Trent work on a way to counteract it so we could make even more money. Everyone won.”
No, that last part was never part of the plan. Not for anyone but Matt.
West delivered the news. “For a smart guy, you’re pretty fucking stupid.”
Ford had reached his maximum tolerance point. He knew what the answer would be but asked anyway. “What’s the Brit’s first name?”
Matt swallowed and his gaze went to West’s gun. “Harlan.”
Ward watched it all. Stood there and waited for West and Ford to come out so they could walk through the new information. So he could test his theory and see if they all agreed.
He looked at West first. “Well?”
Ford answered. “Too easy.”
“You think Matt is lying?” Not exactly where Ward was going but he’d listen. Even lost in a funk over Shay, Ford’s instincts were good. Probably the best Ward had ever worked with.
“I think he’s spitting back what he’s been programmed to say.” Ford put it out there and West nodded in agreement. “No way would Harlan give his real name and use his accent.”
Ward had come to the same conclusion. “Agreed.”
“The guy has been undercover all over the world and speaks how many languages? Yet we’re supposed to believe he walked into this situation and didn’t try to hide his identity.” Ford stared at the floor as he shook his head. “No fucking way.”
“He’s being set up.” Those were the first words West said since leaving the room.
Ward knew the threats took something out of the guy. He pretended it was part of the job, and they called on him to be the muscle so often he no longer blinked, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed bloodshed.
“There is only one answer here. Harlan is being railroaded by the person who gave us bad intel on the Hampstead job and who had dinner with Anthony and didn’t do anything to stop him from coming home early and finding us.” Ford’s voice dropped lower and gre
w rougher with each sentence. “It’s been right in front of us all along. He came out of retirement to help and all he’s done is screw us over.”
“Pearce.” Ward said the name on all of their minds.
This was a fucking nightmare. Pearce knew everything. He’d helped put the security protocols for the team and building in place. He knew the security codes. People in the building trusted him and wouldn’t think to stop him, especially since they’d kept his lockup quiet to everyone but the two guards watching over him. Even they believed the security measures were somehow for Pearce’s protection.
“But why do it after all these years?” West asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Ford said almost at the same time.
Ward wanted to be the one who put a bullet in Pearce. Then he would stand over him and ask why, after all those years of service, he changed sides. Money couldn’t be the only answer. Ward hated that fucking answer. “He’s in the building.”
Ford’s hand went to the gun at his side. “Locked down?”
Ward’s gut tensed. “He has a guard in with him and one at the door.”
West already had his weapon out and started moving. “Only two?”
Before they could get very far, Ford stepped in front of them and held up a hand. “Wait, we can use this.”
“How?” Ward was willing to try anything, and Ford rarely made a misstep. Despite the background and deaths on his last CIA operation, there was a reason Ford led Bravo team. A reason the team was so damn lethal.
“Maybe it’s time for us to set a trap.” Ford lowered his voice. “Pearce is making some sort of move. Let’s give him a chance to do it. We have everyone in the holding cells in the main building. It’s only a matter of time before Pearce feels the walls closing in and makes his big play.”
West smiled. “Then we bury the fucker.”
“I’d like to gut him, but no. We need Benson and Pearce’s connection to him and this auction.” Ford looked like he was mentally thinking out that scenario in his head.
Playing Dirty Page 27