Defense Breach

by Lisa Phillips

  Grady touched his fingertips to the spines of the books and pressed. There was a quiet click, and it popped open.

  “Great.” Skylar sighed. “We need the combination for this one now.” She hadn’t moved her hand away, and the light weight of it felt nice.

  Grady turned. She smiled at him, and he returned it.

  “No.” She shook her head. “Focus on the safe.”

  “What?” He laughed and realized it sounded a little embarrassed. As though she’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “You’re getting distracted. I can see it.” She moved her hand, but he caught it gently in his and placed it back on his shoulder.

  “Maybe you’re helping me think.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Okay, so maybe not.” He called Intelligence from his phone and asked for the same agent he’d spoken with before. Ramirez. “Pull up the file for Daniel Painter.” It was likely less than an hour old, but they were good at their jobs. “Give me anything you think might be the combination to his safe.”

  They ran through a couple of combinations, then a couple more. “No dice.” Grady sighed.

  “Try this.” The agent on the other end of the phone rattled off another combination.

  Grady entered it. “I thought we did his dogs’ birthdays.”

  “This is a combination. If I work through this pattern, there are three thousand plus more possibilities.”

  Grady didn’t like the sound of that. It would take forever to try them all. “Let’s pray this is it.”

  Sure enough, the safe clicked open.

  Another click sounded in the room. This one came from the other side.

  Grady shot up, pulling Skylar behind him. “Kristine?”

  “We really should stop meeting like this.” The White House curator’s tone was as stiff as her spine as she strode halfway into the room. Gone were the skirts and heels. She wore jeans, boots and a bulky jacket. “Now hand me the contents of that safe. You’ll have to thank whoever was on the line for cracking the combination. Very handy, your help.”

  Grady didn’t have time to say anything before Kristine said, “Give me the contents. Now, and I won’t kill the two of you.”

  That made no sense, since killing them would actually make her life simpler. Wouldn’t it? Grady figured she’d only said that so they’d be lulled into some false belief that they might get out of this alive. Then Kristine would kill them, anyway.

  She shifted the gun to Grady, then said, “Skylar, the safe. Toss me the logbook.”

  “You won’t get away with this.” Grady couldn’t check, but the phone line could still be open with Intelligence. He hadn’t hung up, and he prayed the other agent hadn’t either. Grady had no idea if help might be en route, but they certainly could use some. The officers outside. Other agents. Anyone. Please, Lord.

  Anything to keep them alive and the logbook out of Kristine’s hands.

  Help us, Lord.

  Skylar stood up, a book in her hand. She held it out, and the log shook.

  Kristine snatched up the book. “Barnes came to me with the idea for the job. Wilson is too much of a loose cannon. It was necessary to get rid of him so we could continue our work elsewhere. Then, when I realized making you the scapegoat could help confuse the Secret Service so they wouldn’t know who was and wasn’t part of this, I agreed to it.”

  “Didn’t work, though, did it?” Grady said as he moved back in front of Skylar. The curator was the one behind all of this? He could hardly believe it, but it made sense given she had the knowledge and inside position to pull it off. Barnes was probably just the muscle.

  Grady’s head spun.

  If he didn’t think Kristine would shoot one or both of them, he’d have pulled his gun. But a gunfight wasn’t how he wanted this day to end. Far too many bullets had been fired already. Grady had a gunshot wound to the shoulder, and Skylar’s forehead would be bruised for a week.

  The Secret Service would find her, but if she killed them no one would be able to undo it.

  “Take it and go.”

  Skylar clutched the sides of his vest.

  “Just go,” Grady ordered.

  Kristine started to smirk.

  Down the hall he heard the sound of the front door opening. “Agent Farrow, you still in here?” It was one of the police officers.

  Grady wanted to shout. To warn them someone was in here.

  The second Kristine’s attention was diverted by this newest threat, Grady pulled his weapon.

  She ducked into the hall.

  Grady fired.

  The officer shouted to his partner to call for backup. They met in the hallway. The officer saw it was Grady and lowered his weapon. “Where did she go?”

  “Who?”

  Grady quickly explained, then went to the back door and looked out. Didn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear anything. The dogs barked, running circles around his feet. If Kristine had come this way, she’d have disturbed the animals.

  Grady ducked back in. The officer stood behind him. “Why don’t you go search upstairs? She might have gone up there and then climbed out a window.”

  “Right.” The officer jumped into action.

  Grady walked back through the ground floor, looking for a possible basement access. How would Kristine know about that, though? She could have followed them here, but she also could have gotten to Daniel Painter before them. That meant she’d have warned Painter they were on their way.

  A trap set for them.

  “It’s clear up here. No windows open. They’re all painted shut.”

  “Grady!”

  He followed the sound and found the room Skylar had called from. A tiny living room—formal. The kind with no TV.

  She stood beside a small cupboard in the corner. “Just like in the White House.”

  “She went out a tunnel.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Grady went first down the tunnel. Skylar couldn’t help the sigh. “Again?”

  He chuckled as he moved. “Seems like it.”

  “Maybe after this I could put in a request. No tunnels for at least six months.” She sighed. “I’ve really had enough of them, you know?”

  His laugh continued to echo down the stone corridor. His flashlight bobbed ahead of them, illuminating the tunnel. Not the end though; it was too long for that. Beyond fifteen or twenty feet there was nothing but darkness.

  “At least this one could have had lights like the last.”

  “And yet your idea was to shoot one out and make everything dark.” He actually shivered.

  She shuddered herself. “After this, I won’t be in a hurry to go spelunking.” Grady stumbled, and she grasped on to him. “Sorry. I shouldn’t run so close behind you.”

  “It’s no problem. Just uneven ground.” The ground was rocky down here, and his light was on the terrain ahead of them.

  After that he went even faster. Skylar didn’t blame him. She likely wanted to catch up to Kristine as much as he did.

  “How far ahead is she?” Her voice came out breathy from running so fast for a good half mile now.

  Grady said, “Can’t be too much farther.”

  “Where does this tunnel even go?”

  “Could go anywhere.”

  “But we’re not ascending to the surface. Not yet, anyway.”

  He slowed. “Shhh.” It wasn’t rude. She was babbling.

  Skylar whispered, “What?” as low as she could. He had to have heard something, though she couldn’t make out more than their footsteps. And the low rumble of a phone vibrating. “I think your phone is ringing.”

  He didn’t pull it out.

  “How do you even have signal down here?”

  He shrugged. “I heard something else.”

  After another minute, they came across a metal door. Grady held his weapon up, ready. Skylar pulled on the handle and muscled the door out of the way, while staying out of the
line of fire.

  Grady stepped through.

  Skylar couldn’t deny the fact that she wanted to be what he was. Skylar wasn’t willing to let that dream go. Especially now that she knew the kind of men and women who did this job. She’d met so many of them over the last two days, and she admired them all.

  Grady hit the top of that list.

  Skylar only hoped once this trip to DC was done, they would stay in touch. She would likely be stationed across the country somewhere, or maybe even overseas. No one got into the White House on their first assignment. Which meant they wouldn’t work together again. Maybe not for years, and possibly never in her career.

  And why did that make her sad?

  “Come on.”

  Skylar hustled to catch up. This day was wearing on her. She was getting emotional, probably because she was tired. All the adrenaline rushes of the past two days had drained her. Grady, too, but he wasn’t acting like he was exhausted. Not like she was—muscles heavy, no strength. No reserves. The kind of fatigue caffeine wouldn’t help—if she could even find a coffee shop. She didn’t even know where they were.

  Until she heard it—the distant rumble of a train.

  “The Metro?”

  Grady said, “I think we’re close to a station.”

  “Kristine is going to head for a train. We’ll never catch her.”

  “We’d better hustle, then.”

  Grady trotted away, down another tunnel. How did he know which way to go? Skylar followed mostly so she didn’t get left behind, out of range of the flashlight. Not that he would leave her, but the man was resolute. And Skylar was still just as determined to continue to pull her weight.

  She didn’t care so much about whatever report would be written on her actions in DC. She’d stand by every decision she had made, and figured extenuating circumstances would be taken into account.

  Plus, if they found Kristine—and the others brought in Barnes again—then they’d have finished this. Daniel would corroborate their story, if he continued to talk in exchange for a deal. And Johnson could testify as to what they’d all been up to. Simmons as well.

  Now all they needed was the woman.

  Up ahead the noise was louder. Grady stopped by another door.

  “Have you seen any sign of her yet?”

  He shook his head. “No, but this door is ajar. I think she went through here.”

  Unless she’d left it open just to throw them off. Skylar held her hand out for the flashlight and shone it around the space. Just stone walls, then concrete. Bare floor. Nothing to hide behind, and no other places Kristine could have gone.

  “Let’s go.” She wanted to tell him to be careful, but figured he already knew that.

  Grady stepped in first, again. Skylar followed. A short hall led to another door, and then a storage area. Boxes. Stacked crates. Even cleaning equipment. Then another, and they were out in the hall between the elevators at the entrance and the platform of whatever Metro station this was.

  The bustle of passengers was a low din. A couple of people looked askance at Grady in his uniform. Not that an armed Secret Service agent was an uncommon sight in DC, just that it was uncommon outside of the vicinity of the White House.

  One of the people, a tourist by the look of him, took a cell phone picture. Skylar pointed her index finger in their direction and said, “No!” in her most stern and authoritative voice. They would probably still post it, though. Maybe Intelligence could use it to track their location and send backup.

  “This way.” Grady turned in the direction of the train platform.

  Skylar trotted behind him, gun held in front of her. How did he know where to go?

  Maybe he didn’t agree with her practically yelling at an innocent bystander, but they didn’t need the publicity. People were too quick to write off honest law officers trying to do their jobs to the best of their ability. They didn’t need their pictures all over social media.

  A train rumbled into the station, but she couldn’t see it. They raced down the elevators and she scanned the platform as they emerged. She looked both ways down the platform, but obstructions between them and the people dotted about made visibility difficult. Plenty of places for Kristine to duck behind something—or someone—and blend in.

  Grady was a ways down the platform, darting between people. Skylar checked the other side, where folks waited for trains going in the other direction. Had Kristine gotten on the train?

  Down the platform she saw a familiar man, blond hair. Half a foot taller than everyone else. Niles? What was he—

  She heard Grady yell then, “Kristine’s on the train!”

  *

  Grady raced along, eyes peeled on every woman inside the train. He’d seen her get on board. How far down the train had she been? Where was she now? Grady didn’t want to be stuck in one car if she’d moved to another—or got off right before it left.

  Skylar was somewhere behind him, searching as well. Pretty soon he’d have to answer his phone and check in, but Secret Service Intelligence had probably tracked his phone. Even with a likely break in his GPS in the middle of the tunnel. He couldn’t have had a signal that whole way.

  The cops back at the house hadn’t followed them. He figured they’d assumed other agents would be backing up Grady and Skylar. So right now, they were on their own.

  The doors began to close.

  Kristine darted out of a car at the end of the train, glanced in Grady’s direction once. Saw him following and started to run.

  “Skylar!” He yelled for her even as he sprinted after Kristine, bumped two people apart, muttered “Sorry” and kept going. Had she heard him? At the other end of the platform was an escalator—probably to a street exit. Or would the woman they were pursuing head for another platform and pretend to get on another train?

  Kristine took the steps two at a time, not even appearing to be winded, despite the fact that they’d all run this far. Heading outside was a good way to get free of Grady. Too bad Grady wasn’t going to stop until Kristine was in cuffs and explaining this whole thing.

  His phone started that steady vibration against his chest again. Grady clicked on his wireless headphones as he ran and stuck one earbud in in time to hear his battery level was high.

  Kristine raced away from the top of the escalator, toward the gates where ticket holders swiped their way out of the station.

  Three of them, none with tickets.

  The cops who worked here were going to have to figure out fast what was happening. Grady didn’t have time to stop and explain. Thankfully his badge was on full display with the rest of his insignia.

  Grady clicked the button on his headphones. “Farrow.”

  “It’s Stringer.”

  “I’m pursuing Kristine now.” He sucked in a breath. “Headed out of…” He found the station name on the wall and told Stringer.

  “We’re on our way. The cops at Painter’s house filled us in on what happened.” Stringer paused. “We’re probably ten minutes out.”

  Kristine could be long gone by then. “Drive faster.”

  “Copy that.”

  The woman herself hopped the ticket barrier. One of the officers on guard hollered at her to stop. Grady raced over and did the same. The officer started to yell, realized who Grady was and waved him on. With a shake of his head, the older cop got on his radio. Grady was good with that. He’d take all the help he could get right now.

  Before he continued his pursuit, Grady glanced back. Skylar hit the top of the escalator.

  He yelled over his shoulder, “She’s with me!” Then kept on running.

  “Sounds like you’re in the thick of it.”

  Grady had forgotten Stringer was still on the phone with him. He’d need Stringer to have up-to-date intel when he showed up, so Grady didn’t end the call. Though he did say, “There a reason why you called?” Even while he ran through the huge tunnel to yet another escalator.

  “Sure, talked to Intelligence abo
ut Daniel Painter,” Stringer said.

  His legs burned, but his lungs were happy to accommodate this uptick in his cardio routine. It wouldn’t last, though. Pushing this hard and this fast for any length of time would leave him quickly drained. He hoped Skylar was doing okay, considering he’d basically left her behind. Forced her to keep pace with him when her head was probably pounding.

  It wasn’t exactly what partners did, but it was how things had worked out in this situation. At least she had the vest and gun. She wouldn’t look official to someone who knew what to look for, but then again she wasn’t a full agent. That time would come, and Grady wanted to be there to see it. To congratulate her.

  The escalator to ground level was twice the height of the one from the platform to the ticket barrier. Grady pushed and huffed his way up each step. “And?”

  “Had them look for connections between Painter and Agent Barnes.”

  “And Kristine Bartowski?” Grady kept running.

  “Bingo.”

  Grady hit the concrete step off the escalator and glanced left—where Kristine had gone.

  She waited by the curb down the street. Tapping her foot, she glanced back toward Grady. Blanched.

  Where was the logbook? She wasn’t carrying it, but she could’ve stashed it under her jacket. Or dropped it. What there hadn’t been time for was for her to destroy it, which meant wherever it was the thing was still intact.

  Grady started toward him. “Hands up, Kristine. Time to stand down.” He crossed to her in a fast-walk stride.

  “We’re six minutes out,” Stringer said in his ear.

  “Hands, Kristine. Now.”

  She didn’t lift her hands. She glanced away, down the street.

  A car raced toward them, weaving through traffic. It stopped so fast Kristine stepped back, like she was wondering if it was going to hit her.

  Barnes sat in the front seat.

  And Grady had no backup.

  “Don’t get in.” Grady strode over. “Barnes, get out of the car. You’re both under arrest!”

  Grady couldn’t fire at an unarmed woman—not that she had no weapon, just that she hadn’t pulled it out and threatened Grady’s life with it in the last minute or so. Kristine was getting into the car. Did Barnes have a gun? Then again, neither could he fire at a moving vehicle fleeing the scene. He could hit a bystander.