Viktor slammed out of the car and spotted Jack surrounded by reporters. It was his first public appearance since his abduction. As far as DC society knew, the couple was still on a sabbatical, which fueled vicious rumors regarding his marriage to Maia.
“Is it true that you and Maia are filing for divorce?” one reporter asked.
“Is there a third party involved?”
“Was Lee Isaac the cause of your break-up?”
Viktor snorted with disdain. Damned reporters.
Jack spoke into a mic shoved in his face. “Many brave men and women died last night. Let’s focus on the crisis, people.”
“Vultures, aren’t they?” a familiar voice spoke beside him. Viktor didn’t need to turn his head to know who was walking beside him.
“I’m surprised you’re not part of the circus,” he replied, still staring straight ahead.
“You wound me, Mr. Baran,” Beth Turner said. Turner was a reporter for the local tabloid, but Viktor knew she was a tenacious investigative journalist writing under a pseudonym. She was also Dr. Sophie Lockwood’s best friend, so Viktor knew better than to antagonize Ms. Turner. “Besides, I know what really happened in Paris.”
Viktor stopped walking and loomed over Beth. “And I appreciate you keeping a lid on this. Is this going to be a problem?”
Though Sophie’s friend stared up at him defiantly, there was a trace of wariness in her eyes. “You should know by now that I care about Maia and wouldn’t do anything to compromise her.”
“Good. Make sure it stays that way.”
“Are you all certain this is Al-Qaeda?” Beth asked without missing a beat.
Viktor turned away from her and dodged the crowd that was hounding Jack, Derek, the FBI director, and Senator Robinson. The senator from Virginia headed the Committee on Intelligence.
“They accepted responsibility, didn’t they?” He pushed through the revolving doors and fell in step at the security line. The Guardians had the necessary clearance to keep their weapons in the building. He spotted Yeager already on the opposite side of security. He needed to lose the reporter. He spoke in a low whisper. “Listen, Ms. Turner, the press need to stay out of this. Stick to the Al-Qaeda story.”
“Damn it, Baran. The people have the right to know.”
“No. The people need to stay out of our way, and that definitely includes the press.”
“Does Syria have anything to do with this?”
With extreme exasperation, Viktor said, “Honestly? I have no idea. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do.”
Viktor nodded to Nathan to step out of the line and head to a corner entrance marked “Restricted,” leaving a sputtering journalist in his wake. Two Kevlar-suited guards toting assault rifles paused to check their IDs and waved them through.
“Anything else you have for me, Baran?” Yeager walked up to him as they crossed the wide expanse of the marble rotunda leading to the meeting room.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Where’s Marissa?” Viktor hadn’t been able to reach her since last night when a tinted vehicle picked her up at the underground parking of Jack’s apartment. For all he knew, she may be on a military C-130 heading out of the country into Afghanistan. The idea screwed with his head all morning, and if Yeager wouldn’t give him a straight answer right now, he’d probably be thrown into jail for assaulting the director of black ops.
“Goddamn it, Baran. Now is not the time—”
“Where—is—Marissa?” Viktor spat out. He knew CIA huddles could mean hours and even days of communication black out. But he had no patience where his woman was concerned.
Yeager sighed. “We had to use her and her team to prepare our Al-Qaeda personnel for deployment.”
“So, POTUS authorized a response.”
The director nodded. “If it appeases you, Cole is on her way to AGS.” At Viktor’s raised brow, he added, “Her analyst is still working on the Al-Qaeda angle, but we need to start looking for a Syrian link. I figured you wouldn’t mind her working with your analyst if it meant she was under your protection.”
Viktor felt a measure of relief, yet a spike of anger shot through his veins.
“I do not appreciate being manipulated, Yeager.” His voice was icy. “My relationship with Cole—”
“Your relationship with Cole is useful,” Yeager cut him off. “But once it becomes a liability, she will have to choose. Your arrogance is getting tiresome, Baran. Don’t force my hand.”
“You son of a bitch—”
“Director Yeager.” Someone interrupted their rapidly deteriorating exchange. Senator Robinson. “We need to get the meeting underway. The President is expecting an update this morning.”
Yeager nodded for the senator to precede him into the room. He looked at Viktor, pressed his lips thinly, and crossed the meeting hall to sit in an inconspicuous corner at the front row.Viktor was inwardly seething. He knew it was only a matter of time before his relationship with Marissa would be used against them. If he had any self-preservation, he wouldn’t have involved himself with her again, but he was in too deep, and he would challenge anyone who would try to break them up. Let them try, and he would give them the fight of their life.
“That’s some scowl on your face, Viktor,” Derek said, coming up beside him. “What the hell did Yeager say to you?”
Damn it. He couldn’t even keep his emotions in check any longer. He caught Stark shaking his head, warning Derek. Pathetic. He had become pathetic. Marissa had become his weakness. Surprisingly, he didn’t give a fuck. And he had suspicions that Yeager knew this. The man wasn’t a fool, he was bluffing. The black ops director wouldn’t sacrifice the alliance between AGS and CIA, not over his relationship with Marissa. It was simply a power play.
Viktor schooled his features and motioned for Stark to take the seats in the back row.
“Joining us, Derek?” Viktor deflected his friend’s question. “Why is a military contractor in this meeting?”
Derek nodded to a DoD representative seated at the far corner of the room. Technically, the U.S. military couldn’t operate blatantly within the homeland. But the rules had been circumvented covertly when needed.
“Senator Robinson invited us,” Derek said. “Washington DC needs all the help it can muster. They’ve struck at the heart of our security. Another direct hit could paralyze DC and cause panic at a national level.”
Derek took a seat beside him. Jack appeared after a few minutes, nodded to him and Nathan and sat beside Derek.
The directors of the FBI and DHS, together with the MPD Chief of Police, headed the meeting. Several FBI agents, officers of the MPD, and SWAT teams were in attendance to discuss strategy and tactics in case of another attack.
The CIA remained a silent entity, sitting quietly in the corner, observing.
The Director of DHS took to the floor and recounted the events of the previous night, starting with the number of casualties and the extent of structural damage.
Viktor was getting restless as he appraised the room before him. Such a gathering of important players vital to the nation’s security was making him uneasy. He began scanning the room for human and non-human threats.
“FBI and DHS agents will be working closely to make sure such an attack will not happen again. We are now working under an elevated threat level. Curfew will be in effect for most of DC for the next three days, after which we will re-assess.”
Derek shifted in his chair and leaned in to Viktor. “Are you getting the same vibes I am?”
Viktor grunted.
Derek’s phone chimed with a silly ring tone.
“Fuck!” he muttered, obviously forgetting to silence his phone and mouthing an apology to annoyed looks cast his way.
“Sophie found it amusing to mess with my phone,” Derek explained his less than manly ring tone when Viktor’s brow shot up. His friend checked the caller ID and appeared conflicted whether to answer it or not. He silenced it and let it go to voice m
ail to return his attention to the meeting.
“We’re receiving updates from the NSA regarding imminent Al-Qaeda threats. The identity of the bombers has not yet been released to the press.”
Viktor already knew the identity of the bombers. Tim had found the website with their video declaration of martyrdom. Both were U.S. citizens who had trained in Al-Qaeda camps in Afghanistan.
“The National Guard will be on standby. There are concerns about attacks from the air such as was done on 9/11. We’re working with the FAA to expand restricted air space temporarily.”
Questions were being fielded from the MPD police officers since they were the first line of defense against the terrorist attacks. Traffic rerouting and tourist evacuations were also a concern.
Viktor’s phone buzzed. Checking the number, he frowned. “Why is your wife calling me, Lockwood?”
Derek’s face paled as the implication hit him, the call from Sophie was urgent. His friend immediately stood up to exit the room to make a call to his wife.
Everyone heard the whistle before the room exploded in a thunderous roar of fire and debris that took down the outside wall of the room.
Shit. Viktor thought. The gathering of DC’s finest was under attack.
CHAPTER TEN
RPG!
The explosion knocked Derek sideways as pandemonium took over. Another explosion rocked the outside of the meeting hall in the direction of the entrance of the building.
“This is a fucking set up!” Jack yelled as he hauled Derek behind a row of chairs.
“You think?” Viktor yelled back. “Stark, you ready?” Nathan nodded grimly.
By this time, there was a frenetic exchange of assault rifle fire. Viktor recognized the “rat-tat-tat” of an AK-47 in between rounds of the M4-carbines used by the building’s security personnel.
The MPD and the FBI agents who survived the first explosion drew their hand guns and took defensive positions. Viktor searched for Yeager and saw him taking his boss—the CIA director—toward a rear exit door.
“We’ve got incoming!” somebody yelled.
Another explosion rocked the room just as everyone scrambled away from the gaping hole on the wall.
“This is becoming a massacre,” Viktor said. “Damn it. We’re fighting blind.” He punched his direct line to Tim. “Burns. The Hudson Building is under fire. I want you to send an assessment to my phone.”
“Holy fuck!” Tim said. “On it, boss.”
Viktor took out an earpiece and mic and fixed it securely. “Has Cole arrived yet?”
“Negative.”
“The building security is breaking under the assault,” Jack returned from his quick venture out the room. “But I think they’ve taken out the RPG shooter.” Jack flinched when a bullet struck the wall behind him.
“It might be a good idea for you to take cover,” Viktor told him. “I don’t want to explain a bullet in your head to your wife.”
Jack scowled as he crouched beside Viktor. “Are we just going to sit here?”
“I’m waiting for an update from Tim. We play this smart, McCord.”
Derek crouch-walked beside them. The wild expression on his face indicated worry for his wife rather than their present situation. “I talked to Sophie. She picked up a wounded Jiro Matsuda at the corner of Oakland and Connecticut. Someone attacked the dojo, Matsuda managed to get away. Damn you, Viktor. If anything happens to Sophie—”
“Where are they now?”
“I told her to drive straight to AGS.” Derek looked ready to bolt. The inability to get to his wife immediately was frustrating him.
“Viktor.” A voice he’d been wanting to hear all day sounded in his earpiece.
Marissa.
“Are you at AGS?” Viktor demanded.
“I just got here.”
“Sophie is on her way with Matsuda. I have no time to explain. Call Dr. Henderson.”
“Copy that.”
“Lockwood,” Viktor addressed his friend who looked ready to kill him. “Can I count on you to keep your head straight?”
Derek nodded. Viktor worked with Derek enough to know how reliable the man was. He had nerves of steel when faced with overwhelming odds. But this was before Sophie, and Viktor hoped his friend had not lost his edge after he had gotten married.
“Okay, I’m counting sixteen hostiles armed with AK-47s and they’re slowly pushing forward,” Tim crackled through comms. “Your best bet is at the main entrance. The rotunda has pillars that could provide cover.”
“Copy that. Inform the guards out front that we’re coming through.”
“Roger that. Oh, Sophie Lockwood just checked in at security. Maia and Ms. Cole are on their way to meet her.”
“Thanks, Tim. Do we have an ID on who these men are?”
“Chatter says it’s an Al-Qaeda splinter group.”
“Syria?”
“Yup.”
Viktor cursed under his breath. What the hell was going on? He glanced at the MPD officers who were valiantly keeping the meeting room from getting overrun. Time to join the fray.
“We break for the front,” Viktor said.
He caught the attention of the MPD police chief and gave him a quick hand signal that they were defending the entrance of the building.
The police chief responded with a two-finger salute.
Viktor looked at Derek, Jack, and Nathan. “Ready?”
*****
Rafiq Shadid and his crew navigated the century old subterranean tunnels that snaked under Washington DC. They were supposed to be sealed off, but the city planners lied—brought about by government agencies’ plan to facilitate spying on their citizens and planting bugs at foreign embassies.
Not many people outside the CIA knew about this network of underground conduits, but this was another lead that Matthews provided them. A microfilm chip of the blueprints were in a CIA station in Morocco. His uncle, Stuart Kwon, paid a handsome amount to a double agent to make a copy of the microfilm.
“This is it,” Ali said, checking the location on his GPS device and looking at the map.
“Are you sure?” Rafiq pressed. “Precision is important, Ali.”
“I’m sure, my brother.”
Rafiq nodded for his men to attach the explosive device on the ancient brick wall. It pained him to destroy something so old, but the infidel had plundered their land, this was payback.
Partnering with Al-Qaeda was a slippery slope to navigate. It was an uneasy alliance, aimed at targeting a common enemy. But motivations were different. Very different.
“It’s ready.” His ordnance expert informed him, handing him the triggering device.
Rafiq looped his index finger in the air to signal his men to take cover. He pressed the trigger.
The explosion was instantaneous, a loud rumbling sound that echoed deeply in the tunnel. The billow of dust was so thick, Rafiq thought for a moment that the tunnel had collapsed. But when the cloud of debris cleared, a light illuminated the tunnel through the hole the C-4 had punched open.
They had to be quick, the element of surprise was crucial. Rafiq had memorized the building layout by heart.
He stepped through the craggy opening in the wall, straight into the underbelly of AGS.
*****
Matsuda had lost a lot of blood. In the backseat of Sophie’s Escalade, a red pool formed from the kendo master’s gunshot wounds to the leg and shoulder. They were not fatal shots, but Marissa needed to get him a transfusion quickly and seal the wounds before he bled to death. When Sophie zipped into the AGS parking, Marissa and Maia were already waiting with a gurney. They had some guards help them load him up since he was almost unconscious.
Marissa had not wanted the female Guardian along because she was still struggling with movement, but there was no stopping Maia when she had set her mind on something. In some ways, Maia and Viktor were cut from the same mold.
“You okay, Sophie?” Marissa asked, turning her attention to the bl
onde woman. They wheeled the gurney into the waiting elevator.
Sophie nodded, but her lips were trembling like she was controlling a sob. “Derek said the Hudson Building is currently under attack. He said he was okay and they were handling it, but I don’t think he’s telling me—”
“Sophie,” Marissa said firmly. “Derek is with Jack and Viktor, and I believe, Nathan Stark. Do you think any of the attackers stand a chance?”
Sophie considered this and then, “Will Sensei Jiro be okay?”
“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Marissa was not about to give false hope. Too many people died last night and to downplay the situation was an affront to the lives that were lost. She caught some footage of what was happening at the Hudson Building. The terrorists took an ambitious gamble in hopes of crippling the city’s defenses, and she was taking heart that Viktor had capable people to watch his back.
The medical bay was located on the second subterranean level, adjacent to the bunkers and a floor below the datacenter. A nurse was waiting for them when the elevator doors opened.
“Dr. Henderson was held up at New Park Medical. News of the attack on the Hudson Building required all hands on deck because of the numerous casualties reported,” the nurse informed them as they rushed into the medical bay.
“Do you have Matsuda’s record pulled up?” Maia turned to the nurse.
“We’ll have to do what we can,” Marissa said.
“What do you mean?” Sophie’s gray eyes were wide with concern.
“Can you deal with the gunshot wound and transfusion?” Marissa asked the nurse.
“Yes. I’ve prepared his blood type,” the nurse said confidently as she began snipping away at Matsuda’s jeans to inspect the injury. “There’s an exit wound, so we’ll just have to clean the area and stitch him up.”
Maia took a look at Matsuda’s shoulder. “None in this one. You’ll have to dig it out.”
A rumbling sound shook the frosted glass panes of the medical bay. The women exchanged alarmed looks.
Maia grabbed the intercom and buzzed security. “What the hell was that?”
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