Edge of Danger (Edge Security Series Book 3) (14 page)

“So Al Shabah is…” Drew looked at the still picture of the blonde woman on the screen.

“Beth Reynolds,” Alyssa said. “It fits with everything we know. And that would be why she could move so freely here in the U.S. She’s an American citizen, as well as a white woman. Who would suspect her?”

“We need to find her,” Zach said.

“Get that info out to all the precincts ASAP,” Alyssa told Drew. He nodded and began typing on his keyboard.

She went to the white board where most of their pertinent information was displayed. “Let’s go over everything again, but now knowing who Al Shabah really is.”

Zach nodded. “Our tango volunteers at a men’s shelter. Why?”

Drew and Riley joined them at the board. “So she has access to unsuspecting bomb carriers?” Riley said.

“Yes,” Alyssa said. “But I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Proximity to her apartment?” Drew said.

“We’re still missing something,” Zach said, staring at the board. “Okay, place of employment?”

Riley checked a paper before handing it to Zach. “The Language Learning Center. She’s a teacher. Middle Eastern languages.”

“Arabic?” Alyssa asked. Riley nodded and Alyssa stared into space, thinking. Something nudged her memory. Why was the Arabic important?

Alyssa gasped. “That bitch.” She went to a monitor and pulled up the video she’d saved.

There it was: The security footage from the night Rob died. The others crowded around the screen with her. A slight figure in a hoodie helped Rob to the edge of the platform, then stepped away. Rob wobbled for a moment and then fell onto the tracks. The figure did nothing to help him, but just looked around and walked away. Rob struggled to rise, making it to his hands and knees before collapsing again. He didn’t get up again, though his one hand stretched out as if searching for help.

Alyssa’s throat tightened as they watched him die. His movements became feebler until they stopped altogether.

“You think Reynolds killed Rob?” Drew asked.

“I know it. The Language Learning Center is in my neighborhood. I think Rob saw Reynolds and followed her there.” She cursed softly as she remembered. “A couple of days before he died, he mentioned he’d seen someone who’d been there on the day his friends died. He must have meant Reynolds. He’d seen her in Iraq. At the same bombing that killed my friends. He took papers from her desk hoping to find something to show who she was. He couldn’t read Arabic and so wouldn’t have known that what he’d taken was only teaching material.”

“Except for the letter,” Zach said.

She nodded. “Except for the letter. She must have found out and killed him.” She cursed. “And then she broke into my apartment looking for it.”

Zach closed his eyes for a brief second. “Fuck,” he said. “You have been too close to death too many times this past week, Firecracker.”

She squeezed his arm briefly before going to her desk to retrieve the envelope with the papers Rob had taken.

She spread them out, cataloguing them. “Learn-to-read Arabic stories. An Arabic poem. Receipt for a deli. A sheet of Arabic numbers.” She slapped the last one down. “Receipt for Sentinel Storage.”

Drew typed furiously into his laptop. “A storage rental place in East Harlem.”

Alyssa nodded at her team. “That’s where we’re headed next.”

T
hey sent
Riley and Drew to check out the Language Learning Center. They needed as much information as possible, as fast as possible, if they were going to figure out what Reynolds had planned next. Alyssa had no doubt that the woman wasn’t done yet.

Sentinel Storage was a bright orange building jammed between a deli and a hardware depot. Inside, the teenage clerk behind the counter watched a
Big Brother
episode on his laptop. He barely glanced at them as he chewed a massive smoked meat sandwich, giving a good impression of a cow chewing cud.

“Number?” he said.

Alyssa held up a picture of Reynolds and her badge. “We want to know the locker for Elizabeth Reynolds.”

The clerk’s jaw hung open. Apparently he liked mustard on his meat. “Umph?”

Zach leaned close to him, his face stony, and his voice deep with a dangerous edge. “Tell us her locker number now.”

The clerk dropped his sandwich on the counter and flipped through the pages of a binder. “33, sir. Down the hall. Turn right.”

Zach nodded, still in scary mode, and turned away. Alyssa pressed her lips together to stop her smile as she followed him. Once they’d turned the corner, she snorted. “I thought that kid was going to piss his pants when you spoke to him.”

“Sometimes it’s fun to be scary looking,” he said with a grin.

“You’re not that scary,” she said. “Just tall with lots of muscles.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You like my muscles?”

Her face heated. “I didn’t say that.” She started looking at the numbers on the lockers. 17. 18.

“Not with words,” he murmured.

She heard him, but didn’t respond. She lengthened her stride. “It should be just up here.”

“Are you trying to ignore me again, Alyssa?”

She glared at him. “I’m trying to be professional. You should be, too.” She stopped in front of a ten-foot-wide roll-up door. A lock secured it to the floor. She knelt and examined the lock. “It’s one of those combination locks that uses letters. I have bolt cutters in the car, but if we don’t have a warrant that might cause issues later.”

“How many letters?” Zach crouched beside her.

“Five,” she said. The answer popped into her head. She met his gaze and smiled just as he did.

“Nasir,” they said at the same time.

She quickly spun the letters and the lock popped open. They pulled the door up together and before it was fully open the acrid scent of chemicals assaulted her nose. Ammonia, sulfur, and charcoal were the main scents she could identify. The room was about fifteen feet long. Reynolds had set up a work table with a lamp and chair. A shelving unit stood behind, but nothing else was left.

“Shit,” Alyssa said. “She’s already cleared it out.”

Zach ran his fingers along the desk and then smelled them. “This is definitely where she made her bombs.”

Alyssa ran her hand over her hair. “But how many did she make? Is she done? What’s next for her?”

“She’s not done,” Zach said quietly. “You know that. Something is coming.”

“I know.” She slammed her hand onto the table. “We’ve been a step behind her for too long.”

Zach came close. “We’ll find her and stop her.”

She gazed up at him, his dark eyes fierce and her heartrate up. She forced her gaze away and back to the empty shelves. “But will it be in time?” she whispered.

To his credit, Zach didn’t make any false promises. He turned away and pulled out his phone. “I’ll get a forensic team to go over it. Maybe they’ll find something.”

Alyssa stared at the shelves, thinking of Craig standing on the subway platform begging for her help.

Zach touched her arm. “Alyssa? You with me?”

How long had she been lost in thought? She lifted her chin. “Of course.”

His dark eyes saw too much, but all he did was nod. “I saw two security cameras. I’m going to go ask Boy Wonder out front for the video.”

He left and she surveyed the room a last time. The empty shelves drew her. They were right behind the chair of the worktable. It didn’t allow a lot of movement. She frowned. Why wouldn’t Beth have put the shelves at the end of the storage room? It would have made it easier to move around in here.

Unless there had been something else in that spot. She moved to the end of the table. There was room enough here for a lot of boxes. Alyssa bit her lip. How much chemical had been stored here? And what did Beth Reynolds plan to do with it?

Z
ach strode
down the hall toward the front counter and the kid manning it. He must have been scowling, because the kid’s eyes widened and he leaned back. Normally Zach would have smiled to try to put him at ease, but he had no time to be gentle with anyone. The soldier in him had pushed aside emotion and focused on finding the enemy.

“Video for the cameras?” he said.

The kid nodded and pointed to an ancient computer on the desk behind the counter.

“Can you pull up video for the last twenty-four hours?” he asked. “We’re looking for that woman.”

“I… I just saw her this morning.”

“You did? Tell me.”

“She borrowed a dolly and moved a bunch of stuff from her unit.”

“Do you know what she was driving?”

The boy’s face scrunched up as if he had to physically dig through his swamp of a brain to access the memory. “Ummm. A light colored van?”

“Okay, good.” He’d come back to the van. “Do you know what she moved?”

“Boxes mostly.” His hands waved the vague shape of a box as he spoke. “Did she do something?

Zach shouted down the hall. “Alyssa.” Then, he returned his attention to the boy. “Can you bring up the security feed for the time period she was here?”

“Sure.” The kid sat down and began typing. Within moments, a video came up of the back of a woman with blonde hair walking down the hall pushing an empty dolly.

Alyssa jogged up to stand beside Zach and watched the screen without being told. The kid fast forwarded the video twenty minutes and they saw Reynolds pushing the dolly that held multiple boxes.

Alyssa cursed softly.

Zach’s phone rang. He pulled it out. “What’s up, Drew?”

“Riley and I checked out the Language Learning Center where Hajjar and Reynolds work. Boss said he knew Hajjar went by the name Costa at the shelter. Said too many people had preconceived notions about people from the Middle East.” Drew snorted. “No shit.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. The boss said both were really nice people, he couldn’t believe they were in trouble, blah blah.

“He did say Reynolds was new and she’d learned her languages over in the Middle East. And she missed work today, but guess what? He said he’d see her tonight.”

Zach’s interest sharpened. “Why?”

“Because she’s one of the volunteers at the Hero’s Gala.”

“Hero’s Gala?” Zach said.

Alyssa gasped beside him. “Of course.” She started cursing.

“Good work, Drew. We’ll meet you back at the CTB.” He hung up and gave the kid instructions to send the video to his email account.

“I’m so stupid,” Alyssa said as they walked to the car.

“You’re one of the smartest women I know.” Zach settled into the driver’s seat and then pulled out into traffic. “Tell me what this gala is.”

She ran a hand through her hair. It was coming out of its long braid, with little wisps framing her face. He wanted to tuck one long curl behind her ear but restrained himself, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate it. He hated the distance she forced between them, but he’d respect it, especially when they had a job to do. He drove while she spoke.

“The Hero’s Gala is a fundraising event that’s been held for the last ten years, and each year it gets bigger and more high profile. It’s to honor our soldiers, and the money raised goes to the VA hospital. Vets are welcome as long as they wear their ribbons. The military higher-ups usually make sure some uniforms are there, looking all spiffy and hero-ish. In fact, it was the Bureau’s turn to make a showing this year.”

He glanced at her. Her nose had wrinkled as if she smelled something bad as she typed something into her phone.

“But they don’t want to see any vets with real problems,” he guessed.

She sighed. “They actually do want the guys who are missing limbs. They’re good for the people donating money to see. But… the soldiers with scars on the inside?” She shook her head. “We can’t let anyone see those soldiers.”

“Soldiers like Rob,” he said, now understanding her. Soldiers like her. Though he wondered if she knew she was one of those soldiers she spoke about.

She nodded and touched her screen a couple of times. “I shouldn’t complain. At least they’re raising money and doing something. It just never seems like enough.” She gave a small laugh. “I went the second year it was held. I was serving then, but I hadn’t done my tour yet. It all seemed so glamorous.”

He didn’t let her dwell on that younger, innocent Alyssa, the one who’d been so drastically changed by Iraq. “Do you know anything about it this year? Where’s it held? Is there a special guest?”

“I’ve got the website here,” she said. “It’s being held tonight at the Paladin Hotel on the Upper East Side. Oh shit,” she breathed.

“Tell me.”

“The Secretary of Defense will be there as the guest of honor.”

T
hey met
Riley and Drew at the CTB. Alyssa asked one of the FBI peons where Masters was.

“He’s interviewing Hajjar, trying to get details before we ship him out,” the guy said.

She strode back to the set of three detention and interrogation rooms in the back of the building. They weren’t used very often. The viewing room was still packed with Masters’ FBI crew and CTB cops. She and Zach muscled their way to the front, where they could see through the one-way mirror to watch the interrogation.

And interrogation it was.

Hajjar sagged in the chair he’d been handcuffed to. He shivered, though sweat rolled down the side of his face. Masters was alternating cool air and heat. She wondered if he’d resorted to drugs yet. From the swelling on Hajjar’s cheek, they hadn’t gone easy on him.

Masters slammed his fist down on the table. Hajjar jumped. “Tell me the names of the others in your cell.”

He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “There’s no cell.”

“So I’m supposed to believe you’re working alone?” Masters snarled.

Hajjar looked up. “No.”

“So tell me the names.”

“There are no names!”

Masters leaned close and whispered something that the microphones didn’t catch. Everyone in the room speculated what he was saying, from threats of life in prison to a slow, painful death. Personally, she thought Masters would go for death.

“Please. Not again,” Hajjar said brokenly. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Bullshit!”

Alyssa couldn’t take any more. She rapped sharply on the glass, causing Masters’ head to whip around as he glared at the mirror. The other spectators sucked in their breaths. “Come on,” she said to Zach. “We can’t let this go on any longer.”

Her statement earned a bunch of mutters from the onlookers, but no one challenged her. She guessed they left that for Masters to do.

She and Zach waited in the hall for the FBI agent. He came out and shut the door behind him, his face twisted in a ferocious scowl. “There had better be another fucking attack happening. I’m too close to breaking him to stop.”

“We believe you have the wrong man,” Alyssa said.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is the guy.”

“No, sir,” she said. “We believe the true terrorist is his girlfriend. She—”

“You believe this as well, Grayson?”

Zach nodded. “We have evidence.”

Masters shook his head. “You’re telling me that mouse of a woman…wait. Let me rephrase that. You’re telling me that
white American
mouse of a woman is our bomber?”

“We are,” Alyssa said. “She—”

“This is unbelievable.”

“Stop interrupting me,” Alyssa said, stepping toward Masters. “Listen to what I have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, and he finally looked at her. “Give me your evidence.”

She took a deep breath and tried to expel her anger. The job at hand was more important than getting irritated with this dickhead. She outlined the evidence, from the woman’s dead son and her close ties to the Middle East to the most recent find of suspected chemicals in the storage locker, and everything in between.

“Your evidence is that the woman speaks Arabic and has a storage locker?”

“Agent Masters,” Zach said in a deep voice that was almost a growl. “Listen to what she has to say.”

His scowl deepened. “I’m not releasing Hajjar. He is our main suspect, and a potential threat to the public.”

“I’m not asking you to release him,” Alyssa said. “But we think Reynolds is Al Shabah and Hajjar has little to no part.”

“You’re free to pursue any line of reasoning you choose,” Masters said. “Just don’t interfere with my case.”

“We think she’s going to target the Hero’s Gala at the Paladin Hotel tonight. We could use the help of your men,” Alyssa said.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll get my men to sweep the hotel and I’ll personally oversee security. I won’t be accused of negligence. But I don’t want either of you inciting anyone to hysterics.” He stomped off.

Alyssa pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s competent, but will he do everything that needs to be done?”

Zach pulled out his phone and tapped out a number before lifting it to his ear. “It’s Grayson. ETA? Good.” He slid it back into his pocket before looking at her. “Masters isn’t completely on board, and frankly we don’t have time to convince him.”

“But…” Her thoughts raced. How could they stop this? Should they put out a warning to the public? Would anyone even listen to them?

“I’m not sure I’ve seen you speechless before.” He laughed. “Don’t worry. Backup is here. Now we have to plan.”

“The gala is tonight. First off, we need to sweep the place.”

“That’s already being done by the secret service and their K9 unit,” Zach said. “The bomb won’t be something we’ll find easily. We need to focus on finding Reynolds. She’ll be there.”

“How are we going to do that? Pose as security?”

Zach laughed again. “Not quite. We’re going as guests.”

Was he insane? Why was he smiling? “Are you enjoying this?” she asked suspiciously. “Wait… Guests?”

Z
ach’s friends
or co-workers or whatever they were had arrived, and met them at Zach’s hotel. They had an adjoining suite next to Zach and Marc’s rooms. The dining table in the suite held blueprints of the hotel hosting the gala while the coffee table held computer equipment, including two large screens. A dark-haired woman who’d been introduced as Dani—the woman Alyssa’s brother was living with—sat on the floor in front of the setup, typing away.

A tall woman with wheat-blonde hair and an even taller, wickedly handsome man sorted out a wide array of weapons, including a sniper rifle. Zach had introduced them as Cat and Rhys. The last man on the team was another tall man with the same coloring as Cat. Dylan was his name.

Alyssa waved a hand at the team. “Did you all come from the land of giants?”

“Just Canada, sweetheart,” Dylan said, overhearing her. “We breed ‘em big up there. You know, to counter the cold.”

Alyssa snorted. “Right. And you all live in igloos.”

Jake came out of the bedroom, dressed in a tux. The woman sitting on the floor looked up and caught his gaze. Something passed between them—something that made Alyssa want to turn away and give them privacy.

She was about to do just that when Jake looked at her, his brows drawn together. “We need to talk, Lyssa.”

She squared her shoulders. “No, we don’t.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Fine. I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Do you want to do it in front of everyone?”

“Asshole,” she muttered, stalking into the bedroom.

Jake followed her and shut the door. “You have PTSD.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Yes. What’s your point?”

“Should you be on this mission? Can you function?”

She clenched her teeth as her anger spiked. “You’re not Mom.”

“No,” he said. “I’m the brother she complains to when you never call or come home. You’re in trouble, Lyssa. Let me help.”

“I’m dealing with it, Jake. Besides, there’s nothing you can do to help me.”

He took a step toward her. “You honestly don’t think I have nightmares about the shit I’ve seen? That I haven’t dealt with people with these same issues? Jesus, Lyssa. I’m special ops. I know all about PTSD.”

Her anger drained from her body, leaving her a hollow shell. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I am seeking help. Talking is just…hard.”

“I know,” he said. “But make sure you do it anyway. It doesn’t have to be me you talk to. Just someone.” He pulled her close into a hard hug. “Love you, sis.”

“You too,” she said.

He released her and then frowned. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Damn straight,” she said. When she saw Jake waver, she shook her head at him. “This is not your decision. I am on this team. We will get Al Shabah. I have to do this for the friends she killed.” He opened his mouth and she held up her hand. “But I
need
to do this for myself.” She softened her voice. “Don’t try to stop me, Jake.”

Someone knocked hard on the door before opening it. Zach stood there. “You okay, Alyssa?”

She nodded. Jake eyed Zach as he stepped to her side. “She’s solid, Jake. And she’s one of our best chances of stopping this tango.”

Alyssa warmed under his praise. She knew it was true, but it was nice to hear Zach say it. Jake frowned as he looked at Zach.

“I think we need to have a conversation, Doc.”

Zach bristled, and Alyssa stepped between them. “No, you don’t. Besides, now is not the time. We have a terrorist to catch.”

Jake nodded, but she caught him scowling at Zach at different moments throughout their planning. Zach scowled right back. Jake obviously suspected something. She shrugged it off. There was really nothing to suspect anymore.

Before they’d gone to the hotel, Alyssa had made a quick stop at her place to grab her outfit for the gala. It had been what she’d been planning to wear anyway.

Now, Zach went to his room to change. He came out wearing a black suit tailored to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He looked strikingly handsome and still had an aura of danger about him, making for an intoxicating combination.

She changed next, and emerged to see them surrounding a map of the hotel. No one had noticed her yet.

Alyssa rolled her shoulders. The halter-style black pant suit made her feel too exposed, with her bare back and the deep V in the front. At least she wore boots rather than spiky heels. No way in hell was she going to a potential terrorist bombing and wobbling around in heels. She’d wear her boots and damn anyone who said anything.

Zach leaned over the table, pointing to something on the map. The suit strained against his broad shoulders.

“Why aren’t the rest of you getting ready?” she asked the room, trying to pull her gaze from Zach.

“I’m on tech,” Dani said. “I’ll be in your ear.”

“And I’m overwatch,” Cat said. “I’m setting up near the third-floor overlook with my rifle and scope. I’ll let you know what I see.”

Zach turned to her, and his eyes widened before traveling over her. His gaze lingered briefly on the deep V of the halter before capturing hers, making her pulse leap with the heat in his eyes. She couldn’t help but remember the night at her apartment.

The rest of the men also had on suits, but none of them made her stomach flutter like Zach. Maybe when this was over, she should have Zach over for a last night together.

Then she put those thoughts away. Time to work.

She entered the ballroom of the Paladin Hotel later that evening with five handsome men. Too bad she couldn’t enjoy the reason why.

She surveyed the ballroom. Zach stood near her, but the others had split off to their assigned zones: kitchen, lobby, stage, as well as the other sides of the room. Drew and Riley were also here. They stood at opposite corners of the room. Alyssa waited near one of the many bars holding a glass of champagne, but not drinking it.

Her mind went over and over what she knew of Reynolds. As Al Shabah, the woman had terrorized the coalition troops in the Middle East. Now she’d brought that terror to the United States. To New York. She would want to make as big an impact as she could.

That also meant that whatever she had in mind, it wouldn’t happen until all the guests had arrived—including the guest of honor. The Secretary of Defense was scheduled to speak at eight. That gave them three hours to find the bomb and evacuate the guests.

Damn, she wished they could stop this event. But not even Zach and his E.D.G.E. team had the ability to cancel the Hero’s Gala, not since the FBI claimed to have the situation in hand. Someone in the Secretary of Defense’s office had given the gala the go-ahead.

Cat, an explosives expert, spoke to them over the radio bud in her ear.

“The bomb would have to be big if it’s going to take out a place this size. If it’s big, then it’s going to have signatures. Scent or perhaps an electromagnetic signature from the timing mechanism. If one is used. But I’m not seeing anything.”

Frustration mounted in Alyssa. This had to be the location. What if they were wrong? What if Al Shabah was going to bomb somewhere else?

The guests started arriving and began congregating near the three large bars at the edges of the room. It would take a while to get every guest through security. How was Al Shabah going to get a bomb past the front security or the dogs near the kitchen and side entrances? Reynolds must have thought of that already.

Alyssa silently swore as she scanned the room again.

“If you hold that glass any tighter, it’s going to break.” Zach stood beside her, also scanning the room with a fierce gaze.

“You just need a British accent and I’d think you were James Bond.”

“Except I’m black,” he said.

She shrugged. “You’re more James Bond than Pierce Brosnan ever was.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a Bond fan.”

“Just Daniel Craig’s version.”

His gaze moved over her face, her up-swept hair, and briefly glanced down over her body. “You look lovely.”

Her stomach fluttered at his words and she glanced down at her champagne, away from his magnetic eyes. “Thank you,” she said. Then she raised her chin. Time to be professional. “Let’s walk the room.”

He held out his arm and she stared at it for a moment. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “You want to blend, right?”

She rolled her eyes but took his offered arm. Her fingers curled around the hard muscle of his bicep, which she could feel even through his suit. She set her champagne down as they passed one of the tables set with china and crystal. She wanted at least one hand free. Her Glock was strapped to her calf, but she still felt vulnerable with her back bare. She should have worn a man’s suit, but her fancy jacket was too tight in the shoulders and she wanted to be able to move.

They walked a circuit without speaking. More and more people entered the ballroom. The music could barely be heard over the din of conversations.

“We’re missing something,” she said.

“I know,” Zach said. He stopped moving and did a sweep with his gaze. “Where would our lady tango hide it?”