“Just answer some questions, Hector. Who is in charge?” Noah asked.
Hector kept backing up. “Is anyone ever really in charge?”
“You’re in charge tonight. One word and we can stop shooting at each other.”
Hector laughed bitterly. “And what will that get me?”
Things were about to get bad.
Noah willed Lillian out of the way. As if hearing him think, Demetrius took a step in front of her. He wrapped his hand around the gun in her hand, taking it from her and putting her behind him.
Gunfire from inland blossomed in the darkness like fireworks, lighting up the night. The gunmen focused on Lillian and Noah’s group went down in a rain of bullets.
Noah rushed forward before the bullets stopped flying and grabbed Lillian, shielding her with his body. She clutched him and buried her face against his chest as the sound of the firefight died, giving way to Brandon and Irene barking orders.
“Noah?” Lillian lifted a hand to his cheek, staring up at him.
Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He had his Lily back. The hours spent apart were some of the worst he’d ever experienced. That kind of anxiety and fear were new to him. He had thought losing his best friend was the worst thing that could happen to him, but the idea of losing Lillian was ten times worse.
“Oh my God. Where did you come from? How did you find us?” she asked.
“The comm. When it came on, it told us where you were.” He closed his eyes and took his first easy breath since Hamburg. Everything was right in his world again.
Lillian clung to him, her hands clenched in his shirt. “Demetrius did it. He took it when they searched me and used it when we got here. It was all him.”
“Noah, is she okay?” Irene called out.
Andy’s team had Hector bound. The downed guards were secured. Their little ragtag team had more or less pulled this off.
“My sister. Is she okay?” Lillian pulled on his arm.
“She’s fine. Jesse and Kevin are with her and the kids.” Noah was glad the others had been able to handle that detail because all Noah was focused on was Lillian.
“Let’s round everyone up,” Andy called out.
“Carol?” Lillian choked out.
“She’s fine. She and Mitch got out. We pulled off our ops with a few hiccups. Even Rand says they’re good in Asia.”
“Oh my God.” Lillian sagged against his side.
“Come on.” He kept his arm around her waist and his other hand on his weapon. They still needed to round up the rest of Hector’s men and figure out what came next.
For that, they needed a plan, and now that they had their chief strategist back in the game he knew they had a good chance at a fatal blow.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sunday. Lighthouse Cay, Caribbean.
Lillian stared at Noah’s profile.
He was here.
He’d come for her.
She was too afraid this was some kind of dream to be happy.
Noah set a folding chair from the bungalow in the sand. There wasn’t enough room for the whole team in the little house so they were outside.
“Here, sit.” He tugged at her elbow, guiding her to the chair.
She stared up at him, her eyes going from his hair to his face and back again. “You’re still a redhead.”
“I am.”
“I’m not used to it yet.”
“I don’t think I ever will be.” He chuckled.
She perched on the edge of the chair, staring around the circle. Everyone was here. They’d made it.
Irene’s gaze swept their group. “Do we have everyone?”
“Yes, we’re all accounted for,” Mitch said.
“Okay, this went off well, but we all know SICA is going to be gunning for us hard. Right now we have to decide what our next steps are and how far we’re going to take this,” Irene said.
“What do you mean?” Lillian leaned forward. “Wasn’t our whole objective to act on the intel we got to knock their legs out from under them?”
“We’ve taken out three of the four sites. The last is in Toronto,” Mitch said.
“I think it’s pretty clear we should head up to Canada and finish this,” Brandon said.
“The only difference is they’ll know we’re coming and they’ll be ready for us,” Lillian said, finally understanding what Irene was saying. They’d achieved their goals, but it wasn’t enough and carrying on to the Canadian site might only make them vulnerable.
“And not just that. What happens after this? How badly have we hurt them? Have we hurt them? How much more can they throw at us?” Irene asked.
“The hack wiped out a lot of their digital infrastructure, and I believe the bank hack was successful. If that’s true, they have no money.” Lillian had relished that one bit of information.
“Their run on the bank was successful. Where it went, I don’t know,” Carol chimed in.
“We can’t be done. This can’t be all there is,” Brandon said.
There were seventeen of them, including Rand, Sarah, Jesse, and Kevin. That wasn’t a huge force to throw at a group like this. But what they lacked in numbers they made up for in skill.
There had to be an answer.
“We hit every other location we’ve uncovered, then we circle back to Toronto when they aren’t expecting it and take that site out, too.” Brandon stared around the circle.
“They’ll pick up and move,” Lillian said. “Their operation is mobile. We’ve seen that before.”
“She’s right.” Irene nodded. “We have hit them where it counts. Without those sites and resources, they can’t deliver. Our objective all along was to disrupt their ability to deliver intel. If we do that they have nothing to sell, no value.”
“They’ll rebuild,” Brandon argued.
“Yes, but—”
“Guys? Guys!” Demetrius leaned out the window. “You need to see this.”
Lillian blinked at the man. He’d gone inside earlier and she hadn’t seen him again.
“What is it?” Irene asked.
“Get over here,” was Demetrius’s only answer.
Noah offered Lillian his hand and she stood. They gathered in close around the three windows to peer into the bungalow between heads and shoulders.
A flat-screen TV was mounted to the wall. Demetrius had paused the feed on the image of an older white man in a dark gray suit with a red tie and a USA lapel pin.
“That’s the man calling the shots. He’s the one who brought me in,” Demetrius said.
Silence.
Lillian glanced at Noah. His mouth hung open and his eyes were wide.
He shook his head. “No. No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.”
“Who is that?” Brandon asked.
“It’s Dave Campbell.” Irene stepped through the door into the house. “Play it.”
“It was announced late last night that Assistant Director of the CIA, Dave Campbell, will be appointed to fill the position vacated after the sudden death of Shemar Donovan.”
“No…” Lillian gaped at the screens.
President Fowler had made this call. Did he know who Dave Campbell was? Could the president be working with SICA? Or was SICA controlling the president?
“Get Hector,” Irene said.
A pair of Brandon’s men headed off toward the jail.
“If the president is in on this, we can’t fight it,” Andy said. He looked at Carol, no doubt thinking about their future.
“No. No, if the president is in on this, that’s all the more reason to fight it,” Lillian said. She took a step back from the house. “He still has to be confirmed by the senate. Fowler can’t just make Campbell the head of the CIA. If we give them reason to believe he’s unfit for the job they’ll be forced to block the appointment.”
The men returned with Hector between them.
Demetrius rewound the footage and paused it on Dave’s face.
“Is this who you r
eport to?” Noah asked. He took a step toward Hector, hands balled into fists.
Hector glanced over Noah’s shoulder and grimaced.
“It is, isn’t it?” Lillian asked.
“This guy and Hector are the ones who forced me into this,” Demetrius said.
“I want you to promise me a deal if I say anything,” Hector said.
“You talk or you die.” Noah grabbed the rifle at his side.
“No. Wait.” Andy stepped between them, shoving Noah’s gun back down.
Lillian took a few steps toward him and placed her hand on Noah’s arm. She stared at Hector. “Why? Why should we do anything for you?”
“Because… Because I have recordings that prove Dave Campbell runs SICA,” Hector said.
She stared at him.
Could they trust Hector? Was he telling the truth?
If he was, this was the break they needed.
But how did they get this information out? Where did they take it?
…
Sunday. Dave Campbell’s Apartment, Washington, D.C.
Dave lay perfectly still in his bed at the apartment he kept close to the office. He’d been on edge the last couple of days. It was a state he was likely going to live in.
Tomorrow the proceedings to install him as head of the CIA would begin.
Never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d take the little four-person operation to something of this scale. When he was head of the CIA, he’d be unstoppable.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
But not all was well.
There were rumblings from within SICA. They’d lost three major sites and a lot of capital in one night. All the more reason to make use of the CIA, like the old days when the rogue operation couldn’t support itself.
He pushed up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Knowledge wasn’t just power in this world, it was everything. And Dave would soon be the man who knew it all. He’d be in a position to own world leaders. Even the American president would be in his pocket.
This was a new, exciting time to be alive. But first, he had to weather the confirmation hearing and investigations into his personal life.
…
Sunday. Lighthouse Cay, Caribbean.
Noah stared out at the surf dancing in the darkness under the moonless sky.
Lillian was safe.
He knew exactly where she was right now, spending a few moments alone with Carol. It was a strange thing to feel as though another human being made him whole. From the day his best friend died and he’d figured out his path he’d never needed a friend or partner. Until now.
There was something about Lillian that brought peace to his life, even amidst the turmoil they were currently trying to sort out. He wanted to preserve this feeling, protect it. But to do that, he’d have to take Lillian away.
He stared up the beach to where Carol and Lillian sat in the sand.
Noah knew without asking that Lillian would never allow him to steal her away. She would not permit herself to be hidden when she believed she had the tools to help. He’d always believed she was made of better stuff than he was.
If he was going to get the chance at more with her, he’d have to be part of the solution. There had to be a way for them to stop SICA and not die in the process.
Taking on the Canadian site would be a death wish. SICA was no doubt prepared for that kind of move. Noah and the others didn’t have the luxury of time. Dave Campbell would begin his confirmation hearings in a few short hours. By the end of the week he could be installed as the next CIA director.
Whatever they did, they had to do it now and big.
How did they stop the hearings?
They had data. They could put it together and email it to every senator. But that sort of evidence could be discredited or ignored.
Another news article wasn’t the answer. While their one article penned by Jonas had achieved its end goal, not everyone lived and died by the press.
What they needed to do was something big, bold, daring. Something that couldn’t be ignored. Something that would get results.
Voices drifted toward him on the breeze.
He saw Lillian and Carol walking back toward the bungalow where the others were either resting or brainstorming. Lillian turned her head and their gazes connected. A slow smile spread across her face and she changed direction, moving to intercept him. He slowed down and let her come to him.
“What were you doing out there by yourself?” she asked.
He reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together. “Telling myself it’s pointless to try to talk you into running away from all of this.”
“That would be the smarter thing to do, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.” He glanced at her. “But that’s not who you are.”
“It’s not who you are, either.” She met his gaze. “You play at this lone wolf stuff. If you were really self-serving, you’d have gone totally freelance and wouldn’t work for the US anymore.”
Noah rolled that thought around. Was it possible Lillian knew him better than he knew himself?
“What do you think our next move is?” She pulled him to a stop just outside the sphere of light thrown off by the bungalow.
“Honestly?” He stared down at her. “We have to go big and soon. Take this all the way to Congress.”
“You think we should do it? Crash Congress?”
“No.” He braced himself to say it out loud. “I think we should take Congress hostage, and if need be, execute Campbell.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Monday. Hart Senate Office Building, Washington, D.C.
Mitch glanced down at the ground, the bill of his hat practically blinding him, and strode toward the half circle where the Senate Intelligence Committee sat.
Two more packages to deliver.
A security guard stepped out in front of him.
Mitch looked up just enough to meet the man’s eye. “Hey, I think I dropped my camera lens up there. Can I check real quick?”
“Be quick.” The guard nodded over his shoulder. “Closed-door session is about to start.”
“Got it.”
Mitch jogged to the front of the room and knelt by one corner of the senate table. He went to a knee and pulled the fabric skirt up.
Noah’s plan had better work.
Mitch pulled the small explosive out of his pocket and pressed the adhesive to the underside of the desk. He then crawled along the floor, as though searching for the missing lens, until he reached the other side. Once more he stuck their insurance policy in place.
This plan was either crazy or genius. He still wasn’t sure.
…
Monday. Harry S. Truman Building, Washington, D.C.
Lillian paced the small room somewhere below the Secretary of State’s offices. Any minute now Mr. Grant would come down and they would have to share their final plan with their unanticipated partner. She could barely believe this was happening. A few short hours ago she’d been on a beach in the Caribbean. Now she was back in her hometown—secretly, because she was a wanted fugitive—and about to do something truly crazy.
Nolan reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her around to face him.
Every time she looked in those green eyes of his, she felt herself falling just a little more in love with him. This was the man who’d dropped everything to save her and kept saving her. If that wasn’t the kind of man she wanted in her life, who was?
“We’re going to do this,” he said.
“Yeah, but what happens after?” Her insides knotted up. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about the future much, but when she did it included him. Was that crazy?
“What are you getting at?” He lifted his hand and brushed a bit of hair off her face.
If the worst happened today, if they died or got taken to a black site never again to see the light of day, didn’t she want to tell him?
“Noah?” Sh
e licked her lips.
He lifted his head and stared at the door. “Someone’s coming.”
“I want to say something.” She grasped at his hand.
“In a moment.” He put himself between her and the door.
A knock followed by a pause, then two fast taps.
The signal.
Lillian let out her breath as the door opened and a middle-aged black man stepped into the room. Secretary of State Grant looked more like a kindly grandfather than the imposing global figure he truly was. One thing she’d learned working with the man was that it often paid to be underestimated.
“Ms. Matthews.” Mr. Grant offered her his hand and a warm smile before turning toward Noah. “Nice to meet you both in person.”
“Sir, if we could dispense with the pleasantries and small talk?” Noah’s tone was hard. He was in ops mode now. “The senate will reconvene in half an hour. Will you help us?”
“It’s in the best interest of this country to keep Dave Campbell out of office. I don’t like what you’re proposing.” The smile faded from Mr. Grant’s face, showing the wolf with all its teeth.
“If things go according to plan, no one will know what really went down today.”
“There really isn’t any other way?”
“Sir?” Lillian put her hand on Noah’s arm. “If we send the information in, it could be struck from the record, ignored, or tied up while the confirmation process continues. Any other spokesperson would need to be verified. Our way might not be ideal, but they can’t ignore us.”
Grant stared at them for a few moments. “Is everything else in place?”
Noah lifted his phone. “Just after the lunch break.”
“God help me.” Grant looked at the ceiling. “Let’s do this.”
“How are we getting in?” Lillian asked.
“By using a trick I think Mr. White has used before.”
Noah had a bad feeling about this. He’d done some crazy things in his past that he wouldn’t want to put Lillian through.
Grant gestured at what looked to be some kind of large black case on wheels. “You’ll be wheeled in. This morning the sound system in the Hart building had some unfortunate problems. I have a guy who will wheel you in under the guise of having a backup sound system on hand.”
“In a box?” Lillian stared at the massive crate. “Oh, boy…”
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