by CW Browning
Stephanie sighed and sipped her coffee.
“You're probably right,” she finally said. “Blake doesn't think the Cartel would go after Tito. They have no reason to, and they're too invested in using him as a driver.”
“He's right. Without Tito, their driving ring falls apart and they have to start over,” Alina said. “They'll hold on to him as long as they can.”
“Which won't be much longer, if I have anything to say about it,” Stephanie said grimly. “Once we find those bombs, I'm making sure we take both Tito and Dominic down.”
Alina glanced at her, her gaze sharp under her eyelashes.
“You're welcome to Tito,” she told her, “but stay away from Dominic.”
Stephanie stared at her.
“Are you crazy?” she demanded. “He's the one behind John's accident! Tito may have planted the bomb, but the order came from him.”
“No doubt,” Viper agreed calmly, “but that doesn't mean you can handle him.”
Stephanie glared at her.
“Don't you dare pull rank, Alina Maschik! You may have clearance way above mine, but that's to operate offshore. You're in my house now. My rules. I want Dominic.”
Alina burst out laughing.
“Your house?” she repeated. “Oh Steph, please. This may be outside the jurisdiction that you law-abiding, politically correct Feds put so much stock in, but believe me, those jurisdictions mean exactly nothing to these people.”
Alina held up a hand when Stephanie opened her mouth to argue hotly.
“Listen to me,” she commanded, a formidable expression replacing the laughter on her face. In an instant, Alina was gone and Viper was in her place. “If it was as simple as Dominic just giving the orders, I'd leave him to you without reservation, but it's not. Dominic is just another link in a chain that goes far beyond anything you have the experience to handle. I don't want Dominic for us. Trust me. In fact, I don't think Dominic will be apprehended by anyone.”
“You think he'll just go free?” Stephanie demanded. “All the more reason to let me...”
“No.” Viper cut her off, her words clipped and short. “He won't go free. I said he wouldn't be apprehended. Stop and use the brain I know you have hidden away somewhere. He lost a chemical trigger for a bomb made by terrorists. Terrorists, Stephanie. Specifically, an ISIS leader. Do you honestly think he will just walk away?”
The words fell heavily and Stephanie stared at her.
“Oh my God,” she breathed.
“You go after Dominic and you'll be introducing yourself to people you'd rather not know,” Viper told her grimly. “Hell, I'd rather not have to deal with them, but it's what I get paid to do and I've been trained to do it. You haven't.”
“When you said the bombs were part of an attack, I didn't give much thought to...” Stephanie shook her head. “ISIS? Here? I thought it was just another Johann scenario.”
“Is there any difference?” Viper asked softly. “They’re all terrorists, and they all want to kill us. The only difference between them is the amount of violence they're willing to invoke, and how strictly they interpret the Quran.”
Stephanie shook her head bemusedly and sipped her coffee.
“Well, when you put it that way, I don't have much of a choice,” she muttered. She glanced at her watch, then finished her coffee with one last gulp. “You will find them?” she asked, glancing at Viper.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Stephanie stood up. “I'll let you know as soon as we have a beat on those bombs. They're meeting at eight-thirty, so I should know then at least where they're headed.”
“Keep me posted,” Alina said, standing and walking with her to the sliding door. “Steph, be careful. Don't let them see you. If he thinks someone is on to them, he'll detonate them where they are and we won't be able to stop it.”
Stephanie stopped at the door and looked at her, her lips pulled together in a thin line.
“What do we do when we find the bombs?” she asked. “Do we send in the bomb squad?”
“Yes, and if I were you, I'd have them on standby.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Alina sat deep in the shadows at the far end of the deck, her feet propped on the banister and her head against the high back of the Adirondack chair. Night had fallen and a brisk wind blew across the lawn, a reminder that even though it was Spring, Winter hadn't completely relinquished its grasp. She zipped up her jacket and buried her hands in her pockets, listening to the sound of the tree frogs singing to each other in the darkness.
By this time tomorrow, it would all be over. Stephanie and Blake would have located the bombs and, God-willing, all of them would be defused and rendered harmless. Alina looked out into the night, her lips pursed thoughtfully. Even if the bombs detonated, the chemical compound that mimicked Anthrax wasn't there, and so the ultimate devastation Asad originally planned was already averted. In the worst case scenario, possibly a few hundred people in a few cities would be lost. As terrible as that would be, it didn't compare to the thousands lost if that antidote went into circulation. If nothing else, at least she could tell herself that particular devastation had been prevented.
The shadows on the lawn lengthened as the minutes passed, but still Alina sat there, staring out into the darkness. Those shadows held the comfort of an old friend. Their silence was calming, and she was loathe to go inside to the empty house. The loneliness that plagued her of late was more acute this evening, spurred on by the inescapable fact that John was gone. Hawk was right. She had to face it sooner rather than later. The longer she pushed the sorrow down, the more dangerous it became as it festered inside her.
Asad first, then me, she thought, echoing Hawks words in her mind.
Her phone vibrated against her thigh and Alina frowned, pulling it out and swiping the screen. It was her security perimeter. Someone had tripped it by pulling into the driveway from the road. She touched the quadrant in the app and zoomed in. Her eyebrow soared into her forehead at the sight of the black F150 bouncing along the dirt road that turned into her gravel driveway about a quarter mile in from the road.
Alina slid the phone back into her pocket and lowered her feet from their perch on the railing. What was Michael doing in Jersey, coming to see her at ten o'clock at night with no warning? She stood up and stretched, glancing up as Raven glided out of the trees and went to rest on the roof of the garage, facing the front driveway. Alina's lips curved. Her hawk really was as watchful as a guard dog.
Tires crunched on gravel in front of the house and she moved across the deck to the steps as Michael's truck pulled around the house. Motion lights flashed on, flooding the driveway with light as he stopped next to her Jeep and killed the engine. Alina watched as he climbed out of the truck and started across the grass toward her. Dressed in jeans and an old, worn Marines sweatshirt, he looked relaxed and like a man enjoying his weekend. It wasn't until he got to the bottom of the steps that she saw the hard set of his jaw and the shadows under his eyes.
“You look tired, gunny,” she greeted him as he came up the steps.
Michael let out a short laugh.
“That's an understatement,” he told her. “I'm exhausted, and still have to drive to Brooklyn.”
“Come in and I'll make you some coffee.”
Alina turned toward the sliding doors to the house, missing the sharp, searching glance from Michael's eyes.
“That sounds perfect,” he said, following her into the house. “I'm sorry for showing up so late. I would have called but for those invisible ears listening.”
“I'm glad you didn't,” she said over her shoulder, walking into the kitchen. “What are you doing up here? I thought you were working on Trasker.”
“I was.” Michael looked around, then walked over to slide onto a stool at the marble-topped bar. “Then everything kind of went to hell in a basket. Are you alone?”
Alina glanced at him as she pulled a mug out of the cabinet.
“Wh
o else would be here?” she asked, amused.
Michael shrugged.
“You said your SEAL was coming ashore,” he replied.
“He did.” Alina put the mug under the coffee spout and pressed the button. “But he's not here. He's babysitting.”
“That sounds spectacularly unexciting.”
“This coming from the man who left his sense of adventure in an elevator shaft in Baltimore,” Alina murmured with a grin.
Michael let out a short laugh.
“Point taken. I just came from dinner with Blake and Stephanie.” Michael looked at her, serious again. “They told me about John. I'm sorry.”
Alina met his warm brown eyes and was glad for the training that kept her emotions off her face. The look in his eyes reminded her forcibly of that day long ago when he came to offer his condolences for Dave.
“Thank you.”
Her voice was even and unemotional. A frown crossed Michael's face, but he seemed to accept that the topic was off limits.
“Blake filled me in on everything that's been happening up here,” he said instead. “He made it clear that they have no idea what's going on in your corner, though.”
Alina's lips twitched.
“And that's why you're here?”
Michael shrugged and grinned.
“Blake wanted to come himself, but Stephanie seems to think that's a bad idea.”
“She's right,” Alina said shortly, turning back to the coffee machine as it finished brewing. “Black?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Yes.”
She nodded and pulled out the mug, carrying it over to him. She set it down on the bar and her eyes met his.
“You can trust Blake,” he told her. “I've trusted him with my life more than once.”
“I know. That's not the issue.”
Alina turned back to the coffee maker to make herself a cup. She had a feeling she was going to need the caffeine in the coming hours.
“Then what is?” Michael asked, taking a sip. “Oh, that's good coffee,” he murmured, and Alina smiled. “You've worked your spy magic on all of our vehicles and electronic devices to ensure that we're off grid when we come here. You can do the same to him. So what's the issue?”
“It's not about me,” Alina answered. “Every time any of you come here, talk to me or see me, you put yourselves at risk. For your own reasons, and against my better judgment, you all made that decision. Blake has no reason to do that, and I'm not sure that he fully comprehends how dangerous associating with me can be.”
Michael stared at her, his brown eyes searching.
“You really believe that?” he asked. “That it's dangerous to know you?”
Viper's lips twisted in that half-smile that didn't reach her eyes.
“Gunny, you have no idea.”
Michael sipped his coffee thoughtfully as she turned to the machine to pull out her own mug.
“I do, but you're right in saying Blake probably doesn't,” he conceded after a moment. “It makes it damn awkward, though. He thinks you know too much, and he knows that he knows too little.”
“He knows exactly how much he needs to,” she stated, moving across the kitchen with her mug. “Come sit in the living room. It's more comfortable.”
Michael picked up his mug and followed her into the living room.
“Well, he's certainly managed to find out quite a bit,” he said, sitting on the couch while she settled herself in the recliner. “I'm still trying to piece it all together. It's a big mess.”
“It's not as bad as it could have been,” Alina offered with a half-grin. “Look at the positives. It helps.”
Michael snorted.
“What positives?” he demanded. “If we don't find those bombs, or if they detonate before we can stop them, we're looking at thousands of people contracting a mutated form of Ebola.”
“Actually, no we're not.”
Michael stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
Alina sipped her coffee calmly.
“The chemical trigger that I retrieved was the whole amount,” she told him. “It was supposed to be portioned out into each bomb.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?”
“Sgt Curtis proved useful after all.”
Michael ran a hand over his short hair and sat back on the couch, stunned.
“Well, that's a hell of a relief!”
“Before you get too excited, the bombs are still out there,” Viper warned him. “They have a plan B.”
“Of course they do,” Michael said, leaning forward and picking up his coffee again. “What is it?”
“Well, that's where it gets messy again,” she murmured. “We don't know, exactly.”
Michael looked at her in disbelief.
“You don't know?”
“Curtis stopped talking. It's probable he doesn't even know,” Alina said. “What we do know is that if they revert to manual detonation, the bombs could be triggered remotely or on-site. Either way, we're still looking at a lot of casualties if they go off.”
Michael nodded, his lips pursed thoughtfully.
“They'll position them in high-target areas,” he said. “I can help with that. I know what cities they're targeting.” Alina raised an eyebrow in surprise and he nodded. “You're not the only one with skills. The antidote was distributed to four metro areas: Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Washington DC.”
“You're sure?” Viper asked sharply.
Michael nodded.
“One of the executives of Trasker confirmed it,” he replied. “The metro areas cover a lot of ground, but if they go to manual remote detonation, that narrows it down to the cities proper. They'll get more bang for their buck.”
Viper was already nodding.
“That's good news,” she said thoughtfully. “The drivers will move into the direct area and make it easy to pinpoint the locations.”
“All we have to do is follow the drivers,” Michael agreed, lifting his coffee to his lips. “Blake and Stephanie are in a good position to do that tomorrow morning when they meet.”
“Can you handle New York?” Viper asked.
“Already on it,” he answered. “I've contacted NYPD and put their bomb squad on alert. Turns out to be a good thing that I'm already on my way there.”
“Why are you going to Brooklyn?”
“Blake called me. He wanted me to come up here and used my father's surgery as a cover for me leaving DC,” Michael explained with a shrug. “We know someone is listening. Now, I have to go in case they have someone watching as well.”
“Did your father really have surgery?” Alina asked after a moment of silence.
“Yes. He had his hip replaced.”
“Huh.”
Michael looked at her in amusement.
“What was that 'huh' for?” he demanded.
“Nothing. Just convenient timing,” she said with a shrug. “I have someone in Washington, and Steph and Blake can handle Philly.”
“What about Boston?”
“I'll take care of it,” Viper said. “You just worry about New York.”
Michael nodded.
“I found that truck,” he told her, changing the subject. “The Hemi is on its way to our impound.”
“Was it all in one piece?” Alina asked.
“I was told it was a beautiful machine,” Michael said with a grin. “So, yeah, I'm assuming it's all in one piece. Who's is it?”
Alina was silent for a moment, debating how much to tell him. Finally, she sighed and leaned forward to set her empty mug on the coffee table.
“You already know the main points,” she decided. “You might as well know how we ended up here. John was friends with a street racer, Dutch Baker.”
“Yes, he was killed in an accident a week before John had his,” Michael said. Alina looked at him in surprise and he smiled sheepishly. “Blake told me a few days ago.”
“Then you know John was looking into his accident. I
met Dutch before he died.” Alina said back. “I also met his sister, Lani. When he died, John asked me to help Lani through it.”
Michael was silent, listening, and watching her with those brown eyes that seemed to understand and know more than they should.
“I refused.”
“Why?” he asked with a frown. “You know what she's going through.”
“I didn't want to get emotionally involved,” Alina replied slowly. “It's hard for me. I don't want to remember the person I used to be. It's counter-productive to who I am now.”
“That's a load of horse shit,” Michael told her roundly, “but we'll discuss that later. So, you refused to help her. Then what?”
“Then John had his accident and suddenly Lani was in the middle of it,” Alina answered. “You see, Dutch was the one who stole the trigger.”
Michael's eyebrows soared into his forehead.
“What?”
“He was the one transporting it. He must have gotten suspicious about what they were hauling somewhere along the way, and he took it and hid it. I found out this morning that Dominic thought it had been delivered to Maryland. After Dutch was killed, Dominic found out the box delivered to Maryland was empty. He had no idea where the trigger was.”
“And Lani was his only other lead,” Michael finished. “The Hemi?”
“It's hers. Tito stole it to see if Dutch stashed the trigger in it.”
Michael shook his head.
“You really can't make this stuff up, can you?” he asked. “So you're returning the Hemi to Lani?”
“It's all she has left of her brother,” Alina said simply. “I can't let them take it from her.”
Michael looked at her, a small smile playing about his lips.
“You're a good person, Alina Maschik,” he said softly.
Before Alina could answer, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Frowning, she pulled it out and swiped the screen. Her lips tightened imperceptibly at the secure message box displayed. She typed in her code and the message opened. There were no words. Instead, Alina found herself staring an image of a green light.