Evidence_Under Fire 02-Trust Me, page 23
“Did you tell your client about my extracurricular job?”
Had he told Gardner?
“No, Val.”
“And why should I believe you?”
“I don’t rat out my own kind. Not when they’re working for the home team.”
“Do you still work for the home team?”
Are you really out of the CIA?
A soft chuckle filled the line. “I was traded down to the minors. Same team name, different employer.”
She snorted. “You don’t strike me as the type to give up the big league without complaint.”
“On the contrary. I asked to be traded. Free agency.”
She rolled her eyes even as she smiled at Chris.
Ian switched languages to Arabic. “Listen, I know the lieutenant is listening. Are you with him willingly?”
She was taken aback by the question. She responded in Arabic. “That’s an interesting question considering he’s the one who told me to trust you.”
“And now you’ve confirmed his identity. Your tradecraft needs work.”
Shit. This wasn’t even tradecraft. It was basic interrogation. And she’d failed.
“Answer the question. Are you with him willingly?”
“Naeam.” Yes. She continued, still speaking Arabic, “Why do you ask?”
“There may be a leak on his team.”
She kept her face blank, channeling everything Freya had taught her a lifetime ago about facial response. “How is that possible?”
“It happens. In my line of work, you look for cracks and make them wider. It would’ve been your line of work too had it not been for the accident.”
He knew about her previous CIA dreams and Salim.
“What kind of leak?”
“It’s possible there was a tip that the raid was coming, which would explain why the big man and the goods weren’t there when the time came.”
She looked at Chris, again keeping her face blank.
For his part, his poker face was long gone. She knew he spoke some Arabic—most SEALs knew basic phrases and other key words. He had to be wondering what it was that Boyd didn’t want him to know. She’d have to figure out what to say when the call ended.
“Did you tell your client this?”
“He knows nothing but what you said in our meeting. I had to give him a translated transcript.”
That was fair. “How did he know about…who I met in the desert?”
“Not from me.”
“But you knew.”
“Yes. And I know you spotted an old friend in Germany. Someone in the IC is being careless—even reckless—with your intel, some of which found its way to my client, possibly to give them ammunition to force your extradition.”
Chapter Forty
N ow it was Chris’s turn to pace. Diana was holding something back, and it didn’t sit well with him. His phone pinged. Rand had replied to his text. Chris sent a thumbs-up emoji, then tucked his phone away.
At the same time, the burner pinged, and Diana read the text from Ian. “His contact agreed to pass on a thumb drive to Freya. He sent the drop-site location.”
“Perfect.” The encrypted thumb drive had copies of the photos, their burner phone number, and Diana’s log-in and password for the email account that received the original photos. Everything Freya would need to get in touch and get started searching for the IP address. He reached for his boots and pulled them on.
“You going somewhere?” she asked.
“Going to drop the drive, and then I’m meeting with Rand for a beer. Cover for going out.” He finished lacing the left boot and moved to the right.
“Meeting Rand is a risk if he’s being watched.”
He paused in his task and lifted his head to meet her gaze. Her expression was as blank as a bullet packed with cotton wadding. “You have reason to think someone is watching Rand?”
She shrugged. “I’m just struggling with who to trust.”
He rose and crossed the short space to her and placed a knuckle under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. Up close, her eyes gave a hint of confusion she was mostly good at hiding.
He leaned down and kissed her. Soft and undemanding. She leaned into him, her body pliant.
Okay. It wasn’t him she didn’t trust.
He released her and took the thumb drive from the counter and slipped it into his pocket. “Lock up behind me. I’ll be out late, making sure cameras get me in town. Don’t wait up.”
She nodded.
“Don’t go online without using the VPN on the tablet, and don’t check your email, even with that.”
“I know.”
Before heading for the door, he turned and kissed her one more time, his tongue dipping into her mouth.
Damn. He wanted to stay. Pretend something hadn’t shifted between them when she spoke with Boyd, but there was no putting that genie back in the bottle. He had to trust Boyd wouldn’t screw them over.
If the guy hadn’t been endorsed by Xavier, he’d already have ditched the burner phone and moved them to a new safe house.
Instead, he was leaving Diana alone.
He took a complicated route to the drop site, watching for a tail. He didn’t imagine anyone could have followed them to this point, but stranger things had happened. He wouldn’t start getting lazy now.
Ninety minutes after leaving Diana, he planted the thumb drive under a trash bin at the playground, then was back on the road, taking another twisted route into the city. His car had an E-ZPass and even though he’d avoided toll roads, he wouldn’t be surprised to know there were RFID sensors on the bridges in and out of DC.
Once he was over a bridge and inside the city, he pulled into a parking lot near the Lincoln Memorial and texted Rand.
CHRIS
Just got to the city. You still at your sister’s?
RAND
Yeah. Be at the bar in thirty. Ran into Albrecht in the lobby after you texted. Told him to join us.
Even better. Albrecht seemed like a good guy, but Chris didn’t know him well. Young, skilled, and eager. Chris would be his commander when Rand moved up and out.
Twenty minutes later, Chris was in the pub and grabbed a large booth by the window. The curved booth he’d shared with Diana was a dozen feet away, and he felt a longing to be back in that moment.
Wild to think that was just three nights ago.
Seeing her then had energized him. Those first touches that signaled interest. It had been a fucking amazing night, and he wanted more of that.
The server came and took his beer order, just what he needed to break his trance as he looked at the booth that was now home to a Black couple who, from their body language, he assumed had been together for a while. Comfortable, happy.
He scanned the room, and his gaze met that of a Black woman with friends standing by the bar. Their gazes held just long enough to not be casual.
In another situation, he’d break the gaze and, if she approached, brush her off. But he had two SEALs showing up, and he counted three women. It wouldn’t hurt for him to show interest, especially given that Rand had seen him kissing Diana on the sidewalk that night.
Petty Officer Third Class Bryce Albrecht was the first to arrive. White, single, and in his early twenties, he was six feet tall, built like a tank, and a promising sniper.
He was also perfect for enticing the group of women to their booth. Chris was too old to play the pickup game, and Rand was nearly as old. He had no doubt the blond pretty boy got all the female attention he wanted, but Rand’s looks were also the kind that intimidated, while Bryce had “easy lay” written all over him.
Sure enough, the women were checking them both out as they sipped their beers. “So what brought you back to the city?” Albrecht asked.
“I got antsy in my new place all alone. Fucking holiday season in a new area sucks. Decorated my tree and it brought back memories of my ex. So I decided to come back to DC. Take in some museums. Get laid.” He shrugged. “Drink beer.” He turned the question back on Bryce. “Why are you still here? I thought you were headed to Pennsylvania.”
The young SEAL picked up his beer and drank a long gulp, then set it down with a thud. “Got uninvited to spend the holidays with my girlfriend.”
“Ouch. What happened?”
“I might have fucked up.”
“Might?”
“Probably.” He sighed. “Definitely.”
The server returned at the same time Rand showed up.
A glance toward the bar and Chris again met the gaze of the pretty Black woman. He felt like a shit for not shaking his head to warn her off.
This espionage stuff sucked.
Rand slid into the booth next to Bryce, giving Chris his own side. After he was settled in with a beer and their server delivered a selection of small plates, Rand fixed him with a look. “Been an interesting few days as far as our last mission goes.”
“Yeah,” Bryce said. “Was waiting for you to get here to bring that up. Can you believe that shit? We risk our lives to save some chick, and now Uncle Sam is going to give her back?”
Chris appreciated that Rand didn’t mention that the last time they’d seen each other, Chris was making out with Diana on the sidewalk.
“It’s fucked up,” Chris said.
“You think she did it? Was colluding with the enemy?” Bryce asked. All at once, he seemed to remember who he was talking to. “You’re the only one who was there for both rescues. What was your take on her?”
Chris met Rand’s gaze. Did he need to confess he’d been with Diana on Thursday night? Would Rand admit to meeting her?
He decided to let the superior officer field the question, and just responded with a noncommittal shrug.
Rand took a sip of his beer. “Not our job to speculate. We just drop in and save the day.”
Bryce let out a laugh and raised his beer. “Amen.”
Chris remembered being that young. When the job was simple.
Be the hero.
That was before ops went bad. Before he lost teammates.
Bryce excused himself to use the restroom, and Rand fixed him with a look. “How’s Diana?”
“I fucked up.”
“You were pretty cozy the last time I saw you.”
“We were. I fucked up later.” He looked down into his beer like it held answers. “I questioned whether or not she saw Rafiq, and she bolted.”
“Wow. You did fuck up. Or maybe dodged a bullet.”
He took a sip of his beer. “Both, I think.” He met Rand’s gaze. “You talk to Morgan since the news broke?”
“No. Figured it would be best if I stay out of it. The brass knows I’m friends with both Morgan and Freya, but I never met Diana until that night. They call you yet?”
“No. Pretty sure no one knows we met Thursday—and I told the Pentagon everything I know last week.”
“If they talk to me, I have to tell them you met her.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want you to lie.”
“You liked her.”
“We back in middle school now, Fallon?”
“You know what I mean.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I liked her. I fucked up, and…” He didn’t know how he could finish that sentence. For the act he was putting on, or in truth.
He could be crass and say she was an amazing lay. Anything other than that and he feared he’d reveal too much.
He was saved by Bryce’s return. Which was quickly followed by the three women who’d been eyeing their table from the start. They were single, young, hot, and looking to score. Chris was rusty in this department, but he remembered it from the days before Pam.
He smiled and flirted and tried not to gag at the overwhelming scent of their collective perfume. The booths were a bit long, so with scrunching in tight, they made room for the women. A Latina woman settled in between Rand and Bryce, while Chris found himself next to the pretty Black woman who’d been eyeing him all night and her friend, who was also Black.
Geneva was twenty-four and worked for the Justice Department, which he assumed meant she worked for the FBI but couldn’t be that specific. Annabella was clearly interested in Rand. She worked for the Library of Congress, while Iris, who sat directly across from Bryce, claimed to be with the NSA, which he figured meant she worked retail or in the service industry and didn’t want to admit that when her friends had more exciting-sounding careers, so she made a joke about it.
He’d tell her about his hours working fast food before he joined the Navy, but instead, he just felt old.
He met Rand’s gaze and saw the tired look in his eyes too. Rand was a year younger than Chris, but he’d been in the Navy and SEALs longer. A SEAL year was like dog years.
These women were way too young for the likes of either of them.
Geneva was cute and persistent, though, and Chris felt like he needed to play along. It wouldn’t do if word got out that he and Diana had hooked up and then he appeared to be pining for her days later.
He toyed with the idea of getting Geneva alone in the corner, making it look like he was interested, then saying something rotten to make her storm off, but that could backfire in a thousand different ways. So instead, he resorted to talking about Pam.
He embodied the guy everyone hated at the bar. The bitter ex.
Thankfully, the women called a bathroom break, and he was alone with Bryce and Rand.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Bryce said. “You really suck at this.”
“Sorry, man. I guess I was looking for a night out with the team. Not a hookup.”
Rand gave him an assessing look. He was dangerously close to blowing it.
“I’m just too old for this shit. She’s a nice girl, but that’s the problem. I know she’s a legal adult, but all I can think of is when I was a senior in high school, she was eight years old.”
“Dude, channel your inner Leo DiCaprio. She’s fucking hot.”
Chris grimaced. “Sorry, man. I’m just in a different place.” This was a perfect time to make his escape, so he waved his credit card at the passing server. “This is on me, but I’m gonna bail. Tell Geneva I’m sorry, but I don’t do hookups.”
He caught Rand’s look at the blatant lie, but ignored it.
He managed to pay the bill and get out of the bar before the women left the restroom. Thank god.
He took a deep breath of the cool night air that was perfume-free. He glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was nearing midnight.
His phone buzzed as he settled in the driver’s seat. He pulled it out and checked the screen.
SMS message with a six-digit pin to unlock his email address.
Someone was trying to hack his account. Two-factor authentication to the rescue.
Another text came, then another. After five attempts, the hacker would be locked out.
They used up all their tries, and the messages stopped.
He tucked his phone in his pocket and put the SUV in Reverse to back out of the spot. He’d be taking the long, long way home to Diana.
Clearly, someone had figured out they were together.
Being alone with her thoughts was never a good thing for Diana these days. She was envious of Chris. He’d gotten to go out. But then, she didn’t particularly want to be out.
Just days ago, she’d had to mentally pump herself up to gather courage to go to Morgan’s birthday party. Now she wondered where she’d be if she hadn’t gone.
She changed into her comfiest pajamas and climbed into bed with the new tablet. She considered downloading a book to read, but knew she wouldn’t have the attention span necessary. Instead she opened the web browser and searched on her name.
Her body nearly seized with anxiety at the list of headlines, and she immediately deleted the search results. She took a slow breath and typed in “Jordan” and “Nabataean artifacts,” not really expecting to see anything new. Archaeology news moved slowly, and she’d done this search regularly since her rescue. She was always looking for news in general, but also, she wanted to see if there were updates on Fahd’s murder, which would almost certainly be tagged with those keywords if there was new information.
The headline she was looking for showed up on page two of the results.
Historie Strikes Deal with Gillibrand for New Signature Line
The subheading gave more information.
To coincide with the grand opening of the new flagship store and museum in Newport News, Virginia, this summer, CEO of the retail giant, Dennis Gardner, has come to an agreement with Gillibrand Auction House to purchase twenty artifacts in a preempt.
She clicked on the link, which was really a press release put out by Gardner Holdings. The article explained that the new acquisitions would expand the store’s Signature Line to a grand total of two hundred and fifty artifacts.
Historie’s Signature Line were artifacts owned by the Gardner family, giving them the exclusive right to create exact, licensed replicas. They usually limited the number of replicas to one thousand with the first run, then the duplicated artifact was priced for retail sale in the five-thousand- to ten-thousand-dollar range, depending on size and complexity, given that all replicas were made utilizing the same technique and material as the original.
Therefore, if the item was made of solid gold, so was the replica.
The Signature Line was big bucks for Historie and the Gardner family. It wasn’t surprising that they were looking to expand it at the same time they would do the ribbon cutting for the new flagship location.
Her dig was intended to offer insight into how to structure some of the museum displays. She’d been slated to meet with the designers in early October to talk about how best to replicate a dig site.
She’d missed those meetings. Now she wondered who Dennis had hired in her place, because construction was moving forward on schedule.
She scrolled down the press release, her heart pounding, knowing there would be a sneak peek at a few of the artifacts at the end.
The press release claimed the artifacts had been in the private collection of a Jordanian national who’d died a year ago, and his estate was finally being liquidated. It was hard to prove that kind of provenance was fake unless one of the items was a piece that had previously been documented—like the items stolen from the Iraq museum that Hobby Lobby had acquired.
