by Laura Scott
The Asian showing up at the airport. The gunman, maybe the same Asian man, finding him at Geoff’s home and killing Geoff in his sleep. Then shooting at Jarek, chasing him through the streets.
Why? None of it made any sense.
He strained to listen but didn’t hear anything. Had he imagined the thudding noise? Or was the gunman right now stationed on the other side of the door, waiting for the right time to burst in? The Asian may have already killed the pimply kid behind the lobby desk and was making his way here with a key to the room.
He felt himself begin to hyperventilate. This level of paranoia would be the death of him. How much more of this could he take? Maybe he’d be better off if the Asian would just shoot him and be done with it.
Surprisingly, the will to live was too strong to be ignored. Jarek wasn’t going to give up without a fight. With infinite slowness, he lifted a hand and parted the curtain a fraction of an inch. The red light from the vacancy sign illuminated the parking lot in an eerie crimson glow.
It made him think of blood.
Swallowing hard, he moved the curtain a little more to get a wide-angle view of the exterior. There was nothing to see. No new car parked in front of his room, or anywhere else for that matter. There had only been one vehicle parked in front of room two when he’d arrived, and that was the only car out there.
Reluctantly, he moved back and pulled the edges of the curtain together. Skirting the chair he’d placed in front of the door, he made his way back to the bed.
He tried to relax, to slow his racing heart. This hotel had no ties to his past. There’s no way the Asian could find him here. Not without checking every single low-budget motel in all of the metro Chicago area. An insurmountable task.
As he began to drift back to sleep, it occurred to him that his best chance of surviving this was to be armed with a weapon. Unfortunately, he’d never owned a gun.
He shot bolt upright in the bed. What about his condo neighbor, William Kratz? William had a handgun, and maybe, just maybe, Jarek could convince the guy to sell it to him.
Along with some ammunition.
As plans went, it wasn’t the best he’d ever come up with. It required him to return to his condo complex, something he was loath to do, especially since he felt certain the Asian knew where he lived. Yet knowing his address and knowing Kratz had a gun were two different things. He didn’t want to be responsible for another death.
But as he huddled in the darkness, the idea—outlandish as it might be—wouldn’t leave him alone.
Anything was better than sitting here, waiting for death to strike.
* * *
January 19 – 4:23 a.m. – Washington, DC
After Jordan left the motel, Sun was acutely aware of being alone with Mack once again. She wasn’t sure why she was so in tune to the guy. They were childhood friends, nothing more. She refused to be foolish enough to dream of anything else.
Too bad her hormones hadn’t quite gotten the message.
Resting her chin in her hand, she watched as Mack began to hack into the disposable phone company’s records. His fingers flew over the keys, typing commands she’d never seen before in her life. She had to admit, Mack was so far above her level of expertise he may as well have been standing on top of the Washington Monument.
Her thoughts skirted to her mother and the need to warn her of the danger. But without contact through the answering service, she wasn’t sure what to do. Was she crazy to be sitting here in a vain attempt to find a potential nuke?
Could she live with herself if she didn’t and the stupid thing went off?
She tried to focus on Mack, but her interest began to wane. It was hard to watch someone else work, especially when she didn’t understand most of what he was doing. She rubbed her bleary eyes, thinking they’d need to catch a few hours of sleep very soon.
Her chin slipped off her hand, startling her.
“Why don’t you stretch out and catch a few z’s?” Mack must have noticed her nodding off, despite the way his eyes seemed glued to the screen.
She straightened in her seat, trying to blink away the fog. “What if you find something?”
He grinned, and her stupid heart thumped wildly for a moment. What was wrong with her? It must be her bone-weary exhaustion causing her to be so aware of him and his woodsy scent. After he’d broken her heart, she’d found it easier to think of him as a friend.
Which is all she wanted from him. The last thing she wanted was to ruin the only close friendship she had. After Abigail had gone out with Mack, despite knowing Sun’s feelings toward him, she hadn’t cultivated friendships easily. Well, other than the relationships she now had with Sloan, Natalia, Jordan, Diana, and even Bryn.
Thanks to the Mensa program, Mack had been her friend for years, the longest connection she had with anyone except maybe her mother.
And how sad was it that she’d seen far more of Mack over the years than of her mother.
To think that she’d given up all contact only to have her mother be in danger now was disheartening.
There was no denying the regime may have already found her.
“I promise you’ll be the first to know.” Mack’s statement jarred her from her thoughts. He gestured to the bed. “Go, before you fall over.”
Since the thought of his having to carry her was completely unacceptable, she decided he was right. “Okay.” She stood, grabbed the duffel, which they’d managed to keep with them, then frowned at him. “You need to get some sleep too, Mack. We won’t be able to fight the enemy if we’re not well rested and on top of our game.”
His gaze captured hers for a poignant moment. She was very fortunate to have him as her partner in this. Jordan and Sloan were great, but Mack was doing extremely well. “I know, Sun. If I don’t find something soon, I’ll crash for a bit too. I won’t do anything that puts you at risk of being hurt.”
“Both of us are at risk, Mack.” And it bothered her that he was in danger because of her.
“Mostly you,” he corrected.
She was too tired to argue. A wide yawn caught her off guard. Rubbing her eyes, she staggered to the bathroom, brushed her teeth and combed her hair, then headed toward the bed, climbing in fully clothed. Mostly because Mack was there, and also because it was important to be ready for a quick getaway.
A trick that had served her well in the past.
She sank into the mattress, every muscle in her body relaxed, but her brain refused to shut down. Images of the times she spent with Mack rotated through her mind, their formative years, then as teenagers.
The time they’d been sparring and had almost kissed.
Almost.
“Sun?”
His deep husky voice echoed in her mind, and she could almost imagine him lowering his head to kiss her . . .
“Sun? Wake up!”
The dream shattered, and she awoke with a start, raking her gaze over the room, searching for the threat. “What?”
“I found the location.”
She blinked, then understanding dawned. “You found the location of the man who sent the assailant to our informant’s apartment?”
“The general location, not a specific place, but it’s in the heart of Washington, DC.” There was no mistaking the gleam of anticipation in Mack’s eyes.
Her hopes deflated like a punctured balloon. “That’s not much help.”
“The location is on the eastern side of Capitol Hill,” Mack continued as if she hadn’t rained on his parade. “Is that a coincidence or what?”
“Well, yes, but that’s a stretch, Mack. I mean, a ton of rich people live in Capitol Hill, too, not just members of Congress and other federal employees.”
“It coincides with my theory that someone with connections in the federal government corrupted the chatter transcripts.” His expression went solemn. “We need Jordan to tell us exactly who might be involved in this, because one of them must be trying their best to sabotage our ability to find the nuke.”
&n
bsp; She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if he was right. It wouldn’t be the first time someone from within the federal government turned out to be a bad guy interested in money or power—and it wouldn’t be the last.
Making their job that much more difficult to accomplish.
Chapter Eight
January 19 – 5:01 a.m. – London, England
Hana was required to disembark the plane in London in order to catch her connecting flight to Chicago. As she followed the passengers in front of her, still maintaining her disguise, she felt certain the North Korean was staring at her back, watching her every move.
It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to turn around and look for him.
Swallowing hard, she stayed within the crowd, fearful of being alone and mentally bracing herself for the moment the Korean made his move. Surely he must have guessed she was the one he sought, despite her disguise. She felt vulnerable, knowing she still had to get through customs.
Then again, so did he.
A glance at her watch confirmed her flight to Chicago was scheduled to leave in an hour and forty-five minutes. Barely enough time to get through customs and across the international airport to the correct terminal.
Even less when trying to lose a tail.
She continued moving through the airport, trying to mesh with the crowd. By some miracle, she found herself next to the kind man who’d urged her to go ahead of him while boarding in Geneva. She purposefully bumped into him, then looked up to apologize.
“Oh, it’s you.” The kind man smiled as he recognized her.
“I’m sorry to stumble into you like that, guess I’m not too steady on my feet after sitting so long.” She’d learned chatting with strangers was a good way to avoid suspicion.
“No problem.” He smiled, and she was surprised when he slowed his pace to match hers. “Must not be easy traveling alone.”
“No, it’s not.” She prayed the North Korean would assume they were traveling together. If only she could stay at the kind stranger’s side all the way through customs and to the other side of the terminal. “But I appreciate your consideration toward a weary old woman.”
“My mother suffered from arthritis,” he confided. “Let me know if you need a helping hand.”
“Thank you.” His unexpected kindness once again made tears prick her eyes. Here was a complete stranger being nice to her, believing her to be near his mother’s age, while the North Korean was back there somewhere, waiting to kill her.
As she followed the kind stranger to customs, a moment of indecision struck hard. Should she leave the airport and head into the city in an effort to lose the Korean?
Or continue through the airport to the terminal that would take her to the United States? No, she absolutely needed to get to the United States.
Even if that meant she’d die trying.
* * *
January 19 – 5:18 a.m. – Washington, DC
Mack tried not to notice how adorable Sun looked with her sleep-tousled hair and heavy-lidded eyes. They were trying to find a nuclear weapon, this was hardly the time to be thinking about kissing her.
Although he’d thought of little else since she’d kicked him in the chest outside her home. The memory still made him grin.
He gave himself a mental shake. This was what happened when you didn’t get enough sleep, your brain short-circuited to things better left unimagined.
Sun had disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him yawning and struggling to keep his own eyes open. He should have taken his own advice and gotten some sleep too. He hadn’t slept since napping on the flight between New York and DC. Not a long flight by any means.
When Sun emerged, she looked fresh and wide awake. More so than he did.
“Let’s take a drive and check out the Capitol Hill area.” He wanted to head to the high-end residential area for himself, and he hoped she’d be more enthusiastic about what he’d uncovered.
The sense of urgency grew stronger. If someone within the federal government, maybe even someone as high up as a congressman, was working against them, there wasn’t a second to waste.
“Now?” Sun’s expression was skeptical.
“If traffic here is anything like New York, the earlier the better.”
She blew out a sigh. “It’s already too late, rush hour starts early here, but that’s fine. We may as well go. Do you need time to get ready?”
“Yeah.” He hoped a shower would refresh him the way it obviously had for her.
When he emerged ten minutes later, she was peering at the screen of the sat computer. He lifted a brow. “Find anything I missed?”
“No. Other than the cell phone tower covers a significant area.”
“I know.” He packed up the computer and followed her outside. When she slid behind the wheel of the rusty Chevy, he reminded himself that she knew the area better than he did. He didn’t necessarily like riding shotgun, but he opened the computer on his lap and zoomed in on the map. “You know how to get to Capitol Hill?”
“Yes.” She gave him a look that made him feel foolish for questioning her. “Everyone knows where Capitol Hill is, even those who don’t live here.”
“I don’t, it’s my first trip to DC.” He shrugged. “How long will it take to get there?”
“Not sure, traffic will grow more congested the closer we get to the downtown area.” She glanced at him. “You mentioned your boss, Ken Tramall at the NSA. How do you know he’s not the one involved in setting up this bomb threat?”
He frowned. It was a fair question. “I guess I don’t know for sure, other than I’ve been working for him for the past five years without any hint of his being anything but a good agent.” He shrugged. “What about Yates?”
“I completely trust Yates,” Sun said without hesitation. “He’s uncovered moles working on his team in the past and has always been there for Security Specialists, Incorporated. We wouldn’t be nearly as successful without his support.”
“There’s always a first time to turn traitor,” Mack pointed out.
“Not Yates.” Sun’s tone was firm. “I’m telling you, Jordan and Sloan both trust Yates with their lives and those of their families. They wouldn’t do that if there was even a tiny sliver of doubt about him.”
“Okay, I’ll agree with you on that. But keep in mind Yates also trusts Tramall. That has to count for something.”
“Maybe, but no guarantee.” Her stubborn tone made him want to sigh. He knew part of his crankiness was due to lack of sleep, which wasn’t Sun’s fault.
He glanced at her. “What about Ian Chandler, the guy who sent you the chatter transcript that ended up being corrupted? What do you know about him?”
“Not a lot,” Sun admitted. “But I doubt he’s the one who corrupted the file. Don’t you think someone on the technical end of things is the real culprit?”
He thought about that for a long moment. “Yeah, actually, you’re probably right. It would be easier for someone with hacking skills to accomplish that.”
“Look up Ian Chandler on the computer,” she suggested. “Let’s see if we can find out more about him. Could be he has better tech skills than we’re giving him credit for.”
After ten minutes, he found himself staring at a professional photo of Ian Chandler. The guy looked to be in his early forties, but he had degrees from some very prestigious schools, including an MBA from Harvard. “He could have the skills, but no way to know for sure.” He turned the computer screen so she could see him. “Does he look familiar?”
Sun glanced at the photograph, and he knew she was imprinting Chandler’s face in her mind, the same way he had. “No, unfortunately, but it’s good to know what he looks like.” She brightened. “Hey, since we’re on the road, maybe we should set up a meeting with him about the corrupted files.”
“That’s a good idea.” One he was miffed he hadn’t thought of for himself. He decided to blame the lapse on lack of sleep.
&nbs
p; At least they had a plan moving forward. Especially if this idea of his turned out to be nothing but another dead end.
He stared down at the location of the cell tower signal they were slowly approaching. Dawn hadn’t come close to arriving yet and wouldn’t for at least another ninety minutes.
Plenty of time to explore the area before they could even begin to make plans to meet with Chandler.
And as they approached the location where the disposable phone signal had originated, he wondered if Sun was right to be wary of Tramall.
Their lives could very well depend on who they decided to be trustworthy.
At the moment, he wasn’t inclined to grant that privilege to anyone.
Except Sun.
* * *
January 19 – 5:47 a.m. – Washington, DC
Sun slowly navigated the DC traffic, thinking about the potential meeting with Chandler. It seemed too obvious that the guy would have corrupted the files he’d forwarded to them, anyone with half a brain would try to make it look as if the deed had been done by someone else.
Which meant that Chandler was the likely patsy in this.
“Over there,” Mack said, interrupting her thoughts.
She glanced in the direction he indicated with a frown. “The Ironshore condo building?”
“Yes.” His tone sounded excited. “The disposable phone I took off the assailant pinged off the cell tower located just behind the condo.”
“But that tower covers a wide area, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I still think we need to find a place to park. I want to walk the area, check things out.”
“Park?” She scoffed. “In Capitol Hill? You’re joking, right?”
“A paid structure is fine, and it’s early enough we should find something.” Now he sounded impatient. “I just want to get a feel for the place.”
“It’s ritzy, no doubt about it.” And frankly her rusty Chevy stood out like a wart on a beauty queen. “There’s parking up ahead, and I’m sure it will cost a small fortune if we can get in at all.”