by CW Browning
“Angie took herself off to bed,” he told her. “She’s not happy.”
“I don’t imagine she is,” Alina murmured.
When she emerged from the trees, Angela had been on the deck with Michael, waiting for her. After assuring herself that Alina was alive and well, she laid into her, demanding answers; answers Viper refused to give.
“I tried to turn off the TV so she couldn’t watch the cameras,” Michael said, moving toward her slowly, keeping one eye on the black hawk next to her. “She wouldn’t let me. When you pulled out your gun, I had no good explanation for her.”
“I know.” Alina turned away from the railing and went to sit in one of the Adirondack chairs. “She’s suspected for a few months that I’m not what I say I am. All I can do is try to make sure she doesn’t learn the full truth.”
Michael looked at her for a moment, then lowered himself into the chair next to her.
“I don’t know. At this point, maybe you should just tell her the truth,” he said slowly. “Maybe it would be better.”
Alina glanced at him, her face impassive.
“No,” she said flatly. “Angela is in too much danger as it is.”
“That’s my point. It may be safer for her to know exactly what’s going on. She’s hell-bent on finding out. If we just tell her, it will stop her from doing something stupid.”
Alina watched as Raven stretched and settled down again, staring out into the night with his hawk eyes.
“Too many people already know who I am and what I do.”
Michael sipped his beer and fell silent. A brisk wind swirled along the deck and Alina zipped her black jacket up with a shiver. The night had grown cold, but she was reluctant to go back inside. She was filled with restless energy and being outdoors helped soothe it.
“Any idea who he was?” Michael broke the silence a moment later.
“I got a picture before Raven swooped in. I’ll run it tomorrow.”
“Do you think he was here for you or Angela?”
Alina shook her head.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He wasn’t just passing through. He hid his vehicle in the trees across the road and didn’t approach from the front. He was looking for the house.”
Michael stared out over the back lawn.
“How the hell did he know where to look?”
Viper glanced at him.
“He followed you.”
Michael looked at her.
“There’s no way,” he objected. “I would have noticed if I was being followed.”
“Would you?” Alina raised an eyebrow. “It was late and dark. You could have been followed from the funeral home.”
“I’m telling you, I would have known,” Michael insisted.
Viper studied him for a long moment before reaching into her jacket pocket.
“Perhaps,” she said. “But you were followed.”
She held out her hand and Michael looked down to find a small tracking device in her palm.
“What the hell?!”
“This was on your truck. It was placed under the tow hitch. I found it a little while ago, while you were inside with Angela.”
Michael stared at the device.
“How long was it there?” he demanded.
Alina shrugged.
“Not long. If it had been there for any length of time, there would have been an outline from dirt and dust settling around it. When I removed it, there was nothing.”
She tucked it back into her jacket pocket and watched as Michael drained his beer.
“I led someone right here,” he muttered. “Damn!”
Alina’s lips curved faintly.
“Don’t worry. He’ll think twice before coming back,” she advised. “I’ve deactivated it, so the GPS signal is lost.”
Michael looked at her, his brows pulled together.
“What if he already passed the location on?” he demanded. “Hell, Lina, that guy could have been the one who took a shot at you and Damon!”
“Not possible. That shooter is dead.”
Michael stared at her.
“What?”
“You didn’t think I’d just let a sniper walk away, did you?” she demanded, amused. “Gunny, what do you take me for?”
“You could have told me that,” he muttered. “I’ve been thinking this whole time they’d try again.”
“Oh, someone will. Until I find out who’s leaking information all over the place, I’m still a target. You can rest easy, though. The man Raven attacked wasn’t one of them.”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“How can you be sure?” he asked tiredly.
“He wasn’t a professional. He had no idea how to move quietly, and he was unarmed.”
Michael dropped his head back against the chair with a groan.
“You fired at an unarmed man?!”
Viper’s lips twitched.
“It wasn’t a kill shot,” she replied, amused again. “I was aiming for his shoulder. I wanted to stop him, not kill him.”
Michael was silent for a long moment, staring up into the black sky.
“Do you think this house is compromised?” he finally asked.
Alina shrugged.
“Yes, but I won’t know to what extent until I run the photo.”
“Lina, I am so sorry,” Michael said, turning his head to look at her. “This is my fault.”
She waved a hand impatiently.
“It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s my own fault for coming back here. I knew the risks.”
“And if they know where you are now?”
Viper stared out into the darkness, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
“I’ll handle it.”
Alina stood at the window in her bedroom and stared out into the night. The house was silent, everyone asleep except her. She lifted her glass and took a sip of the vodka she’d poured before coming upstairs.
After Michael went to bed, she had retrieved her laptop from the den. The security breach tonight made one thing very clear: she was running out of time. She didn’t think the intruder Raven shred to pieces was a professional, but Viper couldn’t take the chance he was connected to the leak in Washington, especially after finding the tracking device on Michael’s truck. She needed as much information as she could find on Kyle March, and she needed it now.
While she was hacking into the Organization’s server, there was a person who could help on the ground. She was an old friend, and had proved over the years to be an invaluable asset. Trained by Mossad and stationed in Egypt, Reyna was one of the few people in the world whom Viper respected as a weapon in her own right. The woman was unbelievably skilled in gathering information.
Alina shook her head and took another sip of vodka. She wasn’t sure if she had done the right thing in sending her contact an encrypted message asking for help. She didn’t doubt Reyna would gladly assist, but Viper was leery about involving yet another person in this mess. She was rapidly running out of people she could trust, and if Kyle was indeed an asset with the Organization, then Reyna would quickly end up in the same boat as Alina. However, if Reyna could reveal how a dead man paid utility bills in Madrid, it would get Viper one step closer.
Alina turned away from the window and walked over to the bed tiredly. She set the glass on the side table and got into bed, slipping her .45 under the pillow. So many questions! And now she had to worry about Angela as well.
Alina’s head sank into the pillow and she stared up at the ceiling. How did all this get out of control so quickly? First John, then Hawk, and now Angela. One by one, everyone around her was being targeted. Who knew so much about Viper?
And how the hell was she going to find them before they found her?
Kyle shook his martini shaker. The ice turned the metal cold, sending a chill into his fingers, but he didn’t notice. He was staring across the room, lost in thought, as he went through the mechanical motions of preparing his cocktail.
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He’d known that dog would be a problem.
He shook his head. He hadn’t made a sound in the parking lot, but that pit bull had known he was there anyway. He’d finished going through the first bag in the trunk and was just opening the second one in the back seat when the barking began. He didn’t have time to do a thorough search, so he had grabbed the two things that looked the most interesting. As it was, he barely made it away in time. Who would think the FBI could move that fast?
Kyle lowered his hands, pulling the top off the shaker and reaching for the metal strainer. It was the Marine who made it out the door in record time. He frowned and held the strainer over the opening, pouring his drink into a martini glass. Luckily, he’d been able to get away before he came out of the alcove. It was damn close.
Setting the shaker down on the bar, Kyle picked up his glass and took a sip before turning to move across the room to the couch. When Agent Walker went to the bank this morning, he was right behind her. He had been surprised when she joined an older man in the parking lot outside the bank. The surprise quickly turned to interest as he watched through the glass front of the building. The two met with someone who had every appearance of being the bank manager. A moment later, Kyle was inside the bank, waiting for a CSR to talk to him about opening an account, seated a few feet away from Agent Walker.
Kyle sipped his martini again and set it down carefully on the coffee table before sinking onto the couch. As soon as he had heard the words “safe deposit box,” Kyle knew what was happening. The man in the hospital bed had had a contingency plan in place. He’d felt a moment of amusement in the bank, recalling the detailed instructions to burn John Smithe’s condo down to the ground. So much for covering all the bases.
His eyes fell to the old, tattered notebook sitting next to his martini. The external drive was in the other room on the desk, connected to a laptop. It was surprisingly well protected and he hadn’t broken through the security yet, but he anticipated getting through it by the morning. In the meantime, there was the notebook.
Kyle leaned forward and picked up the martini. Lucky chance, spotting that just as he was putting the bag back. If nothing else, perhaps it would give him some insight as to what kind of man he’d killed. He sipped his martini.
It was a strange thing. In the years he’d been doing this work, Kyle never really gave much thought to his targets. They were simply names and faces in a file with a specific monetary amount fixed to them. Nothing more. Nothing less. And yet, this one had been much more from the very beginning. Since the first contact, everything about this job had been more: more money, more pressure, more precision, and now, more complicated. He needed to know more about his target than he’d been told, more about the person he was and the threat he posed. Kyle wanted to know everything he could about John Smithe because now Viper was involved.
A scowl crossed his face as he stared at the notebook broodingly, nursing his drink. An FBI target, two ex-Marines from Washington and a legendary assassin who some whispered was urban myth all combined to make...what? What the hell had he stumbled into when he blithely took a job that seemed too easy to turn down? He was all set to take care of Viper himself, but what then? Killing his adversary would save his own life, but what about the person who hired him? He was in possession of an external hard drive and a notebook that, unless he was very much mistaken, were the very items his employer wanted destroyed. Would killing Viper be enough? Or would they simply send someone else after him?
Kyle pursed his lips thoughtfully. Always assuming, of course, that they found out about the existence of the items in question. It was entirely possible that they never would. In that case, putting an end to Viper would put an end to all threat to himself. He could return home, continue with his life, and the entire situation here could play out as it saw fit.
He finished his martini and leaned forward to set the empty glass on the table. Who was he kidding? It was never that simple: witness two Marines and an assassin. His best option was to find out everything he could about Agent John Smithe. Then, and only then, could he make an informed decision about everything else.
Then he might have a snowball’s chance.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Michael stepped out of the mother’s room on the side of the altar, closing the door behind him. It was empty and secure. He glanced around the cavernous church and shook his head. There was just too much real estate. There was no way he could secure every alcove and entryway.
Blake emerged from the side antechamber where Michael had entered the day before and gave him a thumbs up from across the church. Michael nodded and turned to walk up the right side of the church toward another antechamber.
When he arrived this morning, Blake was outside on his cell phone, talking to his boss. After he hung up, Michael enlisted his aid to help him secure the church. At first Blake thought he was crazy. The funeral would be attended by a hundred Federal agents, all carrying side arms. What could possibly happen? It took some fast talking, but Michael managed to convince him by virtue of one word: Viper.
Now he suppressed a sigh, and stepped into the right antechamber, looking around. A door led outside here, as it did on the other side, and he opened it to glance outside. A set of cement steps led to the alley running between the church and school. Michael closed the door again and turned to go back into the sanctuary.
He didn’t really know what he expected to accomplish, but Michael knew he had to keep Viper safe or Damon would have his head. Turning right, he continued down the side aisle towards the back of the church. He had the added complication of keeping Angela safe as well, or Viper would have his head on a platter. Michael shook his head. Either way, he would not win if something happened here today.
“Michael!”
Angela hailed him from the center aisle towards the front. He paused and she hurried up the aisle, crossing over to the right at the middle of the church where the front and back sections of the sanctuary were separated by a cross aisle. Her heels clicked on the marble floor.
“I thought you were with Stephanie and Joanne?” he asked, his voice echoing off the empty pews and marble columns.
“I was,” she said breathlessly, joining him. “The hearse just arrived. Have you heard anything from Alina?”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
“Where is she?” she wondered, wringing her hands together. “She said she’d be right behind us. That was an hour ago!”
“She’ll be here,” he assured her. “Stop worrying.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, turning away. “You don’t have to listen to Stephanie threatening to break her legs if she doesn’t show up.”
“Why on earth wouldn’t she show up?” he demanded, exasperated. “I don’t understand why you two are freaking out so much. She’ll be here.”
His phone started ringing and he pulled it out of his inside jacket pocket, turning to stride toward the double doors at the back of the church.
“Don’t forget to mute that!” Angela called after him. “Joanne will have a fit if it rings during mass!”
Michael waved his hand at her as he pressed on the heavy door nearest to him, stepping out into the vestibule.
“Hello?”
“And how’s my favorite grunt doing this morning?” Damon asked cheerfully. “All pressed, dressed, and ready for a funeral?”
“Just about,” said Michael, crossing the vestibule and stepping outside onto the front steps of the church. “I’m at the church now. How’s the recovery coming? Will you be joining us anytime soon?”
“It almost sounds like you miss me. Are things that dull up there?”
“Hardly.” Michael glanced at his watch. “I’ve got my hands full.”
“I heard Angela moved in,” Damon said, his voice sobering. “Anything new on that front?”
“Plenty, but there’s not enough time to fill you in. I want to finish securing the church as best as I can before p
eople start arriving.”
“Is there anything I should know about?”
Michael sighed and ran a hand over his short hair.
“Someone breached the security perimeter last night,” he said reluctantly. “Alina went out there but Raven beat her to the punch, literally.”
There was a short silence.
“Raven?” Damon sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “Oh, that’s great!”
Michael felt his lips pulling into a grin despite himself.
“It was...interesting, to say the least.”
“And the victim?”
“Got away.”
Another silence ensued.
“Never a dull moment,” Damon said finally, no trace of amusement remaining in his voice. “Anything else?”
“Not yet.”
“Well keep me posted. Is she there?”
“She’s on her way,” Michael said, glancing at his watch again. “At least, that’s what she said an hour ago.”
“Do me a favor, gunny? If she shows up looking like a Kardashian, take a picture. I want to see it for myself.”
Michael choked.
“What?!”
But he was speaking to dead air. Damon had already disconnected.
Alina stood in the side antechamber, scanning the crowded church. She’d slipped in through the side door facing the school, avoiding the line stretching out the front doors of the church. Her plan was to arrive at the last moment, and leave at the first opportunity once the mass was over. In doing so, she hoped to present the smallest possible window to anyone watching for Viper to make an appearance. There was no sense in making her situation any worse than necessary. If it wasn’t for the fact Stephanie and Angie would both kill her if she didn’t come, Alina wasn’t sure she would have taken the risk. John was dead. He neither knew nor cared who showed up to his funeral.
Her dark eyes slid over the crowd slowly from her spot behind a column. Some of the faces she recognized from days long past, others she didn’t know. Most were FBI or local law enforcement, a testament to John’s popularity and standing in the community. Viper’s lips tightened briefly. There were a lot of guns in this church. That shouldn’t be a problem, but she couldn’t help but reflect that it made it more complicated for her own security. More guns logically meant more opportunities for an assassin to shoot a target, and unfortunately, she was a potential target. After a moment of brooding, Viper set the thought aside. No point in creating a situation where there was none.