by Liz Wolfe
“Perfect. We’ll be back before dawn.” She slid into the driver’s seat and motioned Logan to the passenger side. The Jeep started easily and she checked the map again, then pulled out onto the road. After a couple of miles, she turned onto another dirt road that was little more than a trail. They bounced over the desert for an hour, then Zoe turned off the dirt road into the desert and doused the headlights.
“There it is.” Zoe pointed to the dark silhouette of Montoya’s compound. “It’s almost one, so the guardsshould all be in their quarters by now.” She pulled up behind a group of cactus and palo verde trees and stopped the Jeep.
“It’s a fortress,” Logan said. “Didn’t look so imposing in the photos.”
“I guess it’s meant to intimidate people from wanting to break in.” She hoisted a bag from the back of the Jeep and tossed it to Logan. She opened the other bag and pulled out two small cases. Opening one, she slipped the glasses on and held the other one out to Logan. “Thought you might want to try these. They’re supposed to improve your night vision.”
“Where’d you get these? From Spies ‘R’ Us?” Logan opened the case and took out the glasses. He examined the yellowish lenses for a moment, then slipped them on. “I don’t see much of a difference.”
“Really?” Zoe pulled a coil of rope and a folded grappling hook from the bag. “I can tell a difference. Unless it’s just the power of suggestion.”
Logan opened his bag and pulled out a short rifle. “What’s this?”
“Tranq gun for the dogs. We each have one.” Zoe pulled hers out and checked the loaded darts. “It’s important to quiet the dogs before they make enough noise to cause a guard to come out to see what’s going on.”
“Great.” Logan examined his dart rifle, then slung it over his shoulder. “What happens after we get in?”
“You follow me. Stay close and don’t make any noise. The safe is located on the ground floor in a room next to Montoya’s extensive selection of wines. Unless the servants are helping themselves to his booze, we shouldn’t be interrupted.”
“So, basically, if everything goes as planned, we won’t have any problems?”
Zoe nodded. “Exactly. Just remember, it never goes as planned.”
“Great,” Logan said again.
Zoe headed for the compound at a trot, leaving Logan to follow her. When she reached the eight-foot stucco wall that surrounded the compound, she dropped the rope and grappling hook, and pulled a pair of wire snips from her back pocket.
“Stay right behind me,” she told Logan, then walked cautiously toward the front gate. She stopped at the brick column and ran her hand lightly over the surface. When she found the right spot, she pulled a fake brick face away to reveal a keypad. She used the wire snips to pry the cover off the panel, then aimed a small penlight at the exposed wires. Red, blue, and green wires, just as she’d expected. It was the hallmark of the Centurion security system. The older alarm system was encouraging. If there had been any break-in attempts, Montoya would most likely have upgraded his system. No break-ins meant the staff of guards hadprobably become lax, which would make her job easier. She clipped the red wire and looked at her watch to make sure she waited exactly ten seconds, then clipped the green wire.
“That was easy.” Logan followed as she trotted along the outside of the wall.
“That’s why he has the dogs.” Zoe paused to pick up the rope and grappling hook.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to shoot the dogs from the front gate?”
“There are video cameras at the gate. And there could be a guard who watches them all night.” Zoe rounded the corner and walked to the center of the rear wall. “We’ll climb up to the top of the wall. Then I’ll call the dogs with this whistle. When they get here, I have another whistle that might immobilize them for a few seconds.”
“Might?”
“Be prepared to shoot. If the whistle works, great; if it doesn’t, be prepared to shoot sooner.”
She threw the grappling hook to the top of the wall and jerked on the rope to secure it. After hoisting herself to the top, she motioned for Logan to follow. They both crouched on the wall and pulled the short rifles off their shoulders.
“Get into position and try not to move any more than you have to. Most dogs have lousy eyesight.
Mostly, they see movement. So if we can stay still while we’re taking the shots, we won’t alert them.”
“Are you sure?”
Zoe rolled her eyes at him. “No, I’m making it up. You take the two on your side. Ready?”
Logan nodded and Zoe blew on the whistle. Within seconds, four Dobermans appeared from around a corner of the house. Their noses were lifted to the air, deep growls rumbling from their throats. Zoe blew the second whistle that Robyn had given her. Nothing. She blew it again.
“Damn it!” She tossed the whistle and fired a dart into one of the dogs. The dog jerked and turned his head to snap at the dart embedded in his shoulder. Another dog yelped when Logan’s dart found his hindquarter. They fired again. Logan hit his dog, but the last Doberman streaked toward the fence.
“My gun is jammed!” Zoe tried to ignore the snarling dog and pull the jammed dart from the rifle. The dog stood directly beneath them and his snarl turned into a bark.
“Shoot him!” Zoe whispered hoarsely.
“He’s too close.” Logan trotted down the fence a few yards, then turned, aimed, and shot the dog in the shoulder. The dog stumbled and fell to the ground. Logan walked back to Zoe and waited while she rearranged the grappling hook and dropped the rope into the courtyard.
“We have about an hour before the dogs wake up.” Zoe dropped to the ground inside the wall and sprinted for the shadows at the rear of the house. Logan was close behind and bumped into her when she stopped.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Zoe handed him a flashlight and he flicked it on.
“Not now.”
“Sorry, again.” He turned it off.
She crept along the wall, stopped at a door, and pulled her lock picks out of her belt pouch. “Now.”
“What?”
“Light,” she whispered. She fitted the slender rods into the lock and jiggled them until she felt the lock mechanism move. The door swung open into a spacious room filled with comfortable chairs and a sofa, two card tables, and a pool table. Zoe headed for the bar on the far wall. Behind the bar, a door was partially obscured by a low cabinet filled with glassware. Zoe motioned to Logan and they moved the cabinet to one side. She used her lock picks again to open the door and stepped into a dark, musty room.
Logan flashed the beam around the room, settling the light on the large safe. Zoe breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized the ancient Mosler safe. She took a moment to appreciate the painting on the door, the intricate gold script that proclaimed the ownershipby Merchants Bank. She knew the safe had a burglary rating of TRTL-60. It would resist entry for sixty minutes of assault with hand or electric tools, picking devices, grinders, drills, or torches.
Fortunately she wouldn’t be using any of those.
“You can open that thing?” Logan asked.
“This is the easy part.” Zoe took a deep breath, blew it out, and focused her attention on the dial. She touched it softly and moved it back and forth a fraction of an inch, getting a feel for the mechanism. Then she slowly turned it, her entire being attuned to the sensation of the dial under her fingertips. When she felt the first click vibrate through her fingertips, she stopped and reversed the motion. The second and third clicks fell into place, but she almost missed the fourth one. For a moment, she thought it might be a fake notch on the periphery of the wheel. But, finally, she felt the faint click and proceeded on to the final turn of the dial. When the bolts fell into place, she threw the handle and swung the door open.
“What exactly are we looking for?” she asked.
Logan pushed past her and looked at the safe’s interior. There were three shelves on one side and six drawers on the other. The sh
elves held several envelopes and three handguns. Logan reached for the guns and Zoe grabbed his arm.
“Put these on first.” She handed him a pair oflatex surgical gloves, then pulled a pair over her own hands.
Logan tugged the gloves on, pushed the guns out of the way, and opened the envelopes, tossing each one aside after examining the contents. He pulled the top drawer open to reveal an assortment of jewelry. The second drawer held neatly stacked bundles of American dollars. Logan looked at her before he closed the drawer. She shrugged. The cash didn’t interest her.
Logan drew a sharp breath when he opened the third drawer. He slowly pulled out a cardboard tube and pried the plastic end off. Zoe peered around his shoulder as he drew a roll of paper a few inches out of the tube, then pushed it back in. Zoe’s hand stopped halfway to the special night vision glasses she wore. The paper had looked old and crinkled. Logan closed the drawer and turned toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to check it?” Zoe asked. How the hell was she going to get pictures of the damn thing if he didn’t show it to her?
“No need. I’m sure this is what we’re after.”
November 24, Langley, Virginia
Drake knotted a blue silk tie around his neck, turned his collar down, and tugged the knot loose, unfastening the top button of his pale blue shirt. He hated wearing a tie, but faced with several weeks of desk duty, he didn’t have a choice. He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair and picked up his jacket as his cell phone beeped. Private number. It had to be Hank Robertson. He hesitated a second, then flipped the phone open.
“Hello?”
“They finally let you out of the hospital?”
“Hey, Hank. About time I got out, too. I was going nuts in there.”
“I didn’t think they’d keep you in so long.”
“Well, you know how doctors are. I thought it would be best to play along with them. But I’m feeling good. Back to normal.”
“Good to hear. I thought maybe the guys had been a little too rough with you.”
That was an understatement. “No problem. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Except for the two broken ribs, the concussion, the slices they’d taken out of him. When he got his former commander out from under whatever brainwashing they’d done, he was going to give him hell about those injuries.
“That’s good. You’re on desk duty for a while?”
“Probably a few weeks. The CIA likes to make sure, you know?”
“Not much different from the Marines, huh?”
“Not much.”
“I know you hate it, but it’s the perfect opportunity to find out if the CIA has any new intel on us.” Robertson laughed a little. “And I’m sure they do. It’s just a matter of what they know and what they’ve figured out. You just report to me and we’ll decide where to go with it, okay?”
“You can count on me.” Drake resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He wouldn’t be at all surprised if they’d bugged his apartment while he was in the hospital. He’d done a cursory sweep, which had turned up nothing, but he had the constant feeling that he was being watched, listened to.
“I’m really pleased you’re trusting me on this one. I know it’s a leap of faith for you.”
“Hey, I’ve trusted you from the moment I joined Recon Nineteen” And he had. Seven years in the Marine Force Recon, all of them under Lieutenant Hank Robertson, known to his men as Hard Nose. He’d trusted the man with his life and he’d never been wrong. Robertson had saved his ass more times than Drake could count.
“I want you to understand it, Drake. I just don’t know how to put it into words. My father told me about it from before I could walk or talk so I’ve just grown up knowing about it. Knowing how right it is.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
“Is it?” Robertson paused. “I’d hate to be wrong about that.”
“Have I ever let you down, Hard Nose?” Drake used Hank’s nickname from the Marines deliberately.
Robertson chuckled. “No, you haven’t. No matter what I asked.”
“Nothing’s changed, sir.” But it had. Everything had changed. Drake had no idea how his lieutenant had become involved with the Order. The man was different. He totally believed in what the Order was doing. Whatever that was.
But Drake knew one thing for sure. You never left a man behind. Robertson had saved his life, and now Drake would do whatever it took to save Robertson’s.
Or he’d die trying.
November 25, Outside Bethesda, Maryland
Zoe paced across her bedroom and lifted the phone for the fifth time, then set it down again. She twisted the cap off a bottle of water and took a gulp. It was well past noon. Had she given the CIA anything useful?
She picked up the phone again and punched in Ethan’s number.
“Hello, Zoe. Nice of you to call.”
“Yeah. Nice to hear your voice, too. So, did the photos help?”
“Actually, they did.”
“Well, you could have let me know. I had to talk pretty fast to get Logan to open the document so I could take the pictures.”
“I was going to call you later today.”
“And? What was on the photos? I couldn’t really see what I was photographing.”
“Basically, it’s a document. Old, from the looks of it.”
“It looked like it was on some kind of parchment.”
“That’s what the analysts thought. The script is a little faded but we got enough to know that the entire thing is encoded.”
“Encoded? Why would it be encoded? And what was it?”
“We won’t know for a while. We have some of the best cryptanalysts at the NSA working on it now. Unfortunately, the best cryptanalyst is working for the Order.”
“Right. You think that’s why Forrester is involved with them?”
“Of course. At least that’s why they wanted Forrester. We don’t know what his motive might be.
Although I still think it has something to do with his uncle.”
“I haven’t heard from Logan yet. I figure if they want me to do another job he’ll call. But if I blew it somehow …”
“You didn’t blow it, Zoe. You got the document. You’ll hear from him. But if you wanted to know about the photos, why didn’t you just ask Shelby?”
“Shelby went back to Portland over the weekend. I didn’t want to bother her. And, besides, I wanted to ask if you’d found my mother.” Zoe gritted her teeth when Ethan sighed.
“It’s not that easy, Zoe.”
“Well, make it easy, Ethan. Or not. I don’t really care. I just want to know where she is and how to get in touch with her.”
“Zoe, I think you should let this go until after this job. The last thing you need right now is a distraction.”
“The last thing I need right now is bullshit, Ethan.” She waited through the long silence. “It’s just that I thought she was dead most of my life. I know I can’t drop everything and go talk to her.”
“Fine. I have a lead.”
“What? Where?”
“Don’t get excited. It’s just a lead. I still have to check some things out. Besides, you won’t really have time to follow up on anything until this is completed.”
“I understand that, Ethan. I’m not going to do anything until this op is finished. So, what kind of lead do you have?”
“We found a Mira de Luca residing in Florence, Italy. We don’t have complete information, but it appears that she might be your mother. She has a son, Matteo de Luca, age twenty-four.”
Zoe’s breath left her body in a silent whoosh. Her mother and brother. If it was really them. In Italy. “What’s the address? The phone number?”
“Zoe, you’re involved in a very delicate operation for the CIA. I don’t think it would be good for you to divert your attention to this matter just now. I really would prefer that you not contact her until this job is finished. After all, a lot is at stake here,” Ethan cautioned.<
br />
He was right about this not being a good time. She didn’t know how she would react to finding her mother and brother, but she knew it would be emotional. And she needed to stay focused on the job right now. “Ethan, I completely understand the seriousness of the situation, and I’m not going to do anything to mess this up. I promise that I won’t contact her until I’m done. Happy now?”
“Not really.”
“I didn’t think so. Give me the information.”
“I only have her address.”
“Good enough. What is it?” Ethan recited theaddress, although Zoe could hear the reluctance in his voice. “Thanks, Ethan. I really appreciate it, you know?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m holding you to your word that you won’t try to contact her until this is over.”
“Of course. And in the meantime, you’ll work on getting more information for me, right?”
“Sure.” Ethan sighed. “Call me when Logan contacts you.”
7
November 28, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
ETHAN HUNG UP THE PHONE and turned to stare out his window. He was still uncomfortable about putting Zoe in this position. Sure, she was an excellent thief, but she wasn’t an agent. She didn’t have the instincts of an agent who had been in the field for even a short time. It was a risk sending her in to steal for the Order. But he had to do something. They’d already lost two agents trying to infiltrate the Order. Drake had escaped but at the expense of several broken ribs, a concussion, and a dislocated shoulder.
Zoe wouldn’t have much of a chance if they discovered her affiliation with the CIA. Hell, she wouldn’t have any chance at all. But he needed to know the Order’s agenda. The information they had gathered so far indicated the Order was a force to be reckoned with. He’d sacrifice any agent he had to in order to ensure the safety of the United States. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but he’d do it without blinking.
Ethan swung his chair around at the knock on his door. Before he could say anything, the door opened and Drake stuck his head in.