It Takes a Thief

by Liz Wolfe

  Ziyad handed him several photographs of the rotunda of the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. “This is how it will look, according to past events.”

  “The podium is really the only thing on the stage. We might be able to hide the device here.” Ayman pointed to a column.

  “That will be difficult,” Ziyad said. “The security that day will be overwhelming, and the Neurotox has to be kept above six degrees Celsius, so planting it ahead of time could be a problem, depending on the weather.”

  “The podium seems to be the best place. It would be kept inside until that day.”

  “But how to get to the podium?” Ziyad stood and paced the room. “We have less than a month to accomplish this.”

  “We will find a way,” Ayman assured him. “I have a man working on the maintenance crew at the Capitol Building. He might be able to discover the logistics of the event.”

  “Impress upon him the importance of acquiring this knowledge.”

  Ayman nodded and looked at the photos again. “Amazing, isn’t it? That all the leaders gather in one rather small space.”

  “Everyone will be there,” Ziyad said. “The president, the president-elect. Same for the vice presidents. As well as the old cabinet and most of the incoming new cabinet.”

  “Even the Speaker of the House and the president pro tempore of the Senate.” Ayman shook his head.

  “They assume that their security will prevent an attack of any kind.”

  “And that is to our advantage. They will never see this coming,” Ayman said.

  “We will finally take off the head of the snake.”

  12

  December 26, Florence, Italy

  ZOE LOGGED ON TO HER computer and opened her email account. The inbox was empty. Not that she’d been expecting anything. This had been the strangest Christmas she’d ever had. The Triumvirate hadn’t come up with another heist for her. She’d emailed the pictures she’d taken at the mansion to Ethan and received an acknowledgement and a Merry Christmas from him.

  She hadn’t seen Logan in several days. They probably had him sequestered somewhere decoding the documents she’d stolen for them. She still hadn’t heard anything about the next job. Which meant another day of doing nothing. Probably two days of doing nothing. The inactivity was wearing on her. She’d already worked out at the hotel’s gym. There was still time for a run before dark. That was the one thingshe’d been skimping on since she’d been in Italy. She pulled on leggings and a T-shirt, laced up her running shoes, and stuffed her key card into her fanny pack.

  An hour later, she was leaning over, sucking in gulps of air and glancing across the street at her mother’s house. Why had she ended up here? Her mother had told her why she’d left. Because of her brother. And what Mira feared Zeke would do to him. So, her brother had grown up here in Italy. In luxury and wealth, by all appearances. She wondered what he was like. She wondered a lot of things. She pulled her cell phone from her fanny pack and punched in the number she’d memorized.

  “Hello?”

  “This is Zoe. I thought maybe we could meet again.”

  “Oh, I’d love to. Do you want to come here? Or I could meet you somewhere? Any time that is good for you.”

  “Now is good.”

  “Now? Where are you?”

  “Right outside.” Zoe walked across the road and stood at the steps to the house. She saw the curtains move and then the door opened. Mira still held the phone in one hand and reached toward Zoe with the other.

  “I’m so pleased you called.” Mira stood aside to let Zoe through the doorway. “We have so much to talk about.”

  Zoe wasn’t sure about that. But, then, why was she here? She turned to Mira, about to tell her that it was a mistake, when she noticed a young man standing on the stairs.

  “You must be Zoe.” The man bounded down the stairs and wrapped his arms around her. “I can’t believe I have a sister. I used to annoy Mother constantly, asking for a sibling.”

  Zoe stiffened in his embrace, and he drew back. “Sorry, I forget that not everyone is as emotional as we Italians are.” He grinned and his golden eyes twinkled. “You’ll have to get used to it.”

  “Matt, give her room to breathe.” Mira pulled at his arm and he finally stepped back a couple of feet. “Zoe, this is your brother, Matteo de Luca.”

  “I see.” She was too overwhelmed to say much more and allowed Mira to lead her into the parlor. Zoe sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa; Matt sat on the other end of the sofa. His posture was relaxed, his body turned toward her, one arm thrown over the back of the couch. Mira took a chair opposite them.

  “I can’t believe I have a big sister.” Matt laughed. “Well, not big,” he indicated her small stature. “But older. We even have the same eyes.”

  “I noticed. It comes from a recessive gene. Our father has dark brown eyes and”—Zoe gesturedtoward Mira, unsure what to call her—”she has light blue eyes.”

  Mira smiled in a way that made Zoe want to call her Mom or Mother. With a sickening feeling Zoe realized that what she really wanted was to throw herself into her mother’s arms. She wanted to absorb all the motherly affection she’d been denied for so many years. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t willing to take that kind of risk.

  “I have to run.” Matt glanced at his watch. “Another meeting. But we’ll get together soon, Zoe. I want to hear all about your life.” He stood, then leaned down and embraced her again. “Mi sorella,” he whispered.

  “Would you like some tea? Or coffee?” Mira asked after Matt had left.

  “No, I’m fine.” She paused, looking around the room in order to avoid her mother’s gaze.

  “What brings you to Italy?” Mira asked.

  “I’m on a job.”

  “Matteo and I would love to have you stay with us while you’re here.”

  “That’s not possible. Besides, how would you explain a grown daughter to your husband?”

  “I’m a widow.”

  Zoe refused to feel sympathy for her, refused to give her any condolence. “Explain to me again whyyou left me.” Zoe held up a hand. “I understand why you didn’t want Matt to be trained as a thief, and I understand your fear that Dad would do that. But if you didn’t approve of what he did, why did you marry him?”

  “When I met Zeke Alexander, I was swept away by his handsome looks, his exquisite manners.” She lifted a delicate shoulder. “I fell in love with him. I was also just eighteen years of age, and so incredibly naïve.”

  “You didn’t know he was a thief, did you?”

  “No.” Mira shook her head. “In fact, I wasn’t sure of it until after you were born.” She waved a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, I understand that he kept it from me in order to protect me. At least that’s what he believed.”

  “But you loved him?”

  “Oh, yes. I loved him so much that I was quite certain I could change him. After a few years, I realized that was impossible.”

  “So you left him. And me.”

  “That was possibly the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make. I don’t know if I could ever make you understand, Zoe, but I felt that by staying I would be sacrificing Matt to a horrible life. At the same time, I knew that your father doted on you. I knew that he would take care of you and love you. And, ofcourse, Nana Phoebe agreed to stay for as long as she was needed.” Mira drew patterns on the arm of the chair with a finger. “It wasn’t an easy decision, but I did the best I could.”

  “Nana Phoebe stayed for a long time. She was the mother I never had.” Zoe pushed aside the twinge of regret when she saw the pain in her mother’s eyes. She hadn’t set out to hurt her, but she wasn’t going to back down now. Mira clasped her hands together and leaned forward.

  “When you were here before, you said something. You said, ‘You were wrong.’ What did you mean by that?”

  Zoe considered her mother for a moment. Part of her wanted to protect Mira from the knowledge that her daughter was a thief.
But why should she? Shouldn’t the woman know what she’d done to her only daughter? She’d protected one child, but at the expense of another.

  “After you left, my father was incredibly morose for a time. But he soon recovered. Part of his recovery was time he spent with me.”

  “Of course.”

  “The time he spent training me to be a thief. As I recall, I started by picking pockets. Although, not on the street for several years. After that came training in gymnastics, safecracking, security systems. You know, the usual.”

  “Oh, God.” Tears pooled in Mira’s eyes. “I had no idea. I never would have left you if I’d known.”

  “You never came back for me, either. Was that not an option, or had you just lost interest by then?”

  Mira stiffened. “I always wanted to, but my life hasn’t always been so luxurious.” She gestured at the room. “I spent many years living hand to mouth. When Matt was twelve, I met Francesco de Luca. We were married a year later, and Francesco adopted Matt.” She took a shuddering breath. “The first twelve years after I left your father were incredibly difficult. I worked as a maid, in a laundry, as a waitress. Anything I could find to put food on the table.”

  Zoe steeled herself against the wave of sympathy. “And then you met a rich man and made a deal?”

  “No! It was not like that. Francesco and I loved each other. He adopted Matteo as his own son.”

  “But you never told him about your other husband? You never told him about your daughter?”

  “I couldn’t. I married him while I was still married to your father. He thought I was a widow. And you were already sixteen when we married. I thought that the last thing you needed was a long lost mother coming into your life. Besides, your father would have never let me take you. And what would it have done to Matteo?”

  “I don’t know. I only know what it did to your daughter.”

  “Can you ever forgive me, Zoe?”

  Zoe closed her eyes and fought the tears that burned behind her eyelids. She needed to get out of there. She couldn’t think straight with all the opposing emotions that were hitting her. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. “I think it’s a little early for that question.”

  “Are you sure you can’t stay with us? We would so love to have you here.”

  “My job precludes that,” Zoe said.

  “What kind of job are you doing?”

  “I told you,” Zoe said, standing, “I’m here on business.”

  December 28, Florence, Italy

  “Weisbaum,” he answered the phone as he checked the list of documents again. There were only four more documents needed. Hopefully. That’s what Capo had decided. Weisbaum wasn’t sure of Capo’s decision, but there was really nothing he could do about it. There was just no way of knowing until they had the documents and everything assembled.

  “Hemings, here.”

  Karl pulled his attention to the phone call. “Senator Hemings. We haven’t spoken since the election. Allow me to extend my congratulations on your victory.”

  “Thank you. I know Capo insisted that the Legacy document predicted the win, but I was still anxious.”

  “Understandable,” Karl said. “But I’m surprised you aren’t swamped with official duties today.”

  “I am, but I had to call. We have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “I downloaded the files from the CIA computers last week. The thief you hired is working for the CIA.”

  Karl ground his teeth. “You’ve had those files for several days and you’re just telling me this?”

  “Back off, Weisbaum. There were a lot of documents to read through. I couldn’t exactly assign it to one of my aides, could I?”

  “Of course not. This news is perturbing, to say the least.”

  “No shit. I don’t know what she’s found out already. There could be documents that weren’t in the files yet. This could bring everything down.”

  “We will contain it,” Weisbaum said, silently cursing Capo for insisting that they hire Zoe. It was just another thing that Capo had screwed up. And there had been a lot of screw ups lately.

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  “That isn’t your concern, senator. We will handle the problem. Just make sure you choose your cabinet carefully. That is your job.”

  “Don’t worry about that. By Inauguration Day, I’ll have the right people lined up, and Congress convinced of their acceptability.” He chuckled. “And The Order will be one step closer to fulfilling our Legacy.”

  “I’ll take the matter of Zoe up with Capo today.”

  “See that you do.”

  Weisbaum listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before he slammed the receiver onto the cradle. He hadn’t trusted her from the beginning. But after she’d proven herself on the first few thefts, he’d convinced himself that she really was just a thief. Hell, he’d even checked out her background and she was a thief. There had been nothing to indicate that she was associated with the CIA. Not a damn thing.

  Leatherman should have found out this information. Then he remembered that the spy had been sent to Italy on a mission shortly after he’d recovered from the beating he’d suffered at Robertson’s command. Robertson should have gone easier on him. Then he’d have been back to work sooner and they would have known earlier that Zoe was working with the CIA.

  Karl walked to the small bar contained in a paneled alcove of his office and poured two fingers ofvodka into a crystal glass. Logan had argued that the other thieves weren’t up to the job and the damnable thing was that Logan was right. They probably hadn’t been capable of doing the jobs Zoe had aced.

  But hindsight only told him what had gone wrong. He needed to resolve the situation. He could just have her taken care of except for the fact that there were more thefts to be done. And they were all tricky. They required a professional. More than a professional. They required the kind of rare talent that only Zoe possessed. What was he going to do about that?

  There was no time to recruit another thief—if he could even find one who could handle the jobs they had in mind. Somehow he needed to cut Zoe off from the CIA while still retaining her services. Somehow he needed to secure her loyalty. He sat at his desk and pulled a folder from the top drawer. The folder was labeled Zoe Alexander and contained all the information they had accumulated on her. There was her father. But indications were that they weren’t especially close and in fact there was frequently antagonism between them. Still, he was a possibility. It was doubtful that she cared so little for him that she would allow him to die.

  There was also her mother and a brother. They were estranged, although the information indicated that Zoe either believed or pretended that her motherand brother were both dead. Her mother had left when Zoe was a very small child. That would work in his favor. Would she be willing to do anything for the mother she’d lost so many years ago? He noted the mother’s address and made up his mind. He’d start with her mother and brother. If that wasn’t enough pressure, he’d send someone after her father. He could keep her working and keep her loyal to The Order. At least for as long as they needed her.

  And eventually, he would have to do something about Capo. But not yet. He was still a necessary part of the science team. He had abilities and knowledge, even at his age, that outstripped the other physicists. And there was the matter of the people. The followers.

  Of course, they had all been indoctrinated by their fathers, as he had been. It was part of the Legacy. Each father indoctrinated his eldest son, or in rare instances, his eldest daughter, into the beliefs of the Legacy. It began at a very early age and worked unusually well. But Karl knew that the indoctrination still had different degrees of success. Capo had the charisma that beckoned to the followers. The ability to make them want to follow him, to believe every word from his lips. He was the one who had convinced them all that the time was now. That was something he didn’t dare disturb.

  Yet.

 
December 28, Iraq

  Mussad bit into a sweet date and lifted his face to the sun. It was good to be in his homeland again. To feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. Italy had not been extremely cold, but at least twenty degrees cooler than what he was accustomed to. After only one night, he felt relaxed and rejuvenated. Here, at Ziyad’s spacious compound, he was not confronted with the foods and activities that were haram. Like many of the other members of his cell, Mussad moved around too often to have a permanent residence. He and the others stayed in hotels or with family members or friends when possible. When they returned here, they usually stayed with Ziyad. It was a place to relax between missions. A haven of safety and comfort.

  The time in Italy had been especially uncomfortable for Mussad. The days endured at his father’s home had seemed interminable. But he had returned with information for Ziyad. And that made it worth it.

  “Salaam.” Ziyad crossed the stone patio and took a chair at the table.

  “Salaam,” Mussad returned.

  “You rested well?”

  “Yes.” Mussad nodded. “It is a relief to be away from Italy and my father.”

  “I understand. Did you receive any new information from him?”

  “Some. I don’t know how important any of it will be to you.”

  “I’m sure it will be useful.” Ziyad took a date and gestured to Mussad to begin.

  “I did as you wished and expressed my interest in joining him in his work with the Order. There were no meetings while I was there, but he spoke of their plans at some length.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Unfortunately, he was not very specific. But he mentioned that they are working on an alternate energy source. He indicated that it would be completed soon.”

  “How soon?” Ziyad asked.

  “Several months, perhaps, if all goes as they have planned. He did not tell me what it is, but said that it would end the world’s dependency on our oil.”

  Ziyad nodded, a frown etched across his forehead. Mussad interpreted his silence as a command to continue.

  “He also talked about how they will change the world. They believe they can bring peace to the world by using this energy source to create weapons much more powerful and flexible than what anyone hasnow.”