Honeymoon To Die For (36 page)

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Authors: Dianna Love

BOOK: Honeymoon To Die For
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Bianca sat back down. “Let me finish going through calendars for the past year.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Anything that pings with dates from my files.”

“I can’t get over how much you can retain.”

“Sometimes it’s a curse,” she mumbled, typing then leaning in. “That’s interesting.”

“What?”  

“I found someone’s trip to Steamboat, Colorado last February.”

He wasn’t seeing the connection. “What does that have to do with weapons?”

“Nothing that I can see right now, but the dates coincide with when the British diplomat Edward Abbot was shot near the private home he’d rented in Steamboat.”

“So?”

Bianca stopped and lowered her voice even more when she turned to him. “I’m looking for a tie between Kearn’s shooting and this one, because the same weapon was used for both.”

“That proves someone else could have killed Kearn.”

She shook her head slowly, regret pushing her words. “You were looked at for Abbot’s murder, but the investigation turned up that you were renting a house in Lake Sinclair in Georgia at the same time. Investigators canvassed the area heavily, trying to pinpoint a time you were gone long enough to make the shot in Colorado, but there were enough sightings of you that it didn’t hold up and with the lakehouse so far from a major airport the travel time wouldn’t work. There wasn’t enough to even justify questioning you.”

“Shit.” That just made all this even more important. Ryder crossed his arms, thinking. “Much as I’d love to find a link to the killings, it’s still coincidental for a lot of people to be in Steamboat in February, not just a VDE employee.”

“I’d agree if this person hadn’t changed travel plans at the last minute and spent an exorbitant amount to leave an hour before the diplomat was killed in the same way as Kearn, right down to the ammo.”  She lifted her eyes to his, hesitating for a moment before she added, “My people believe the diplomat was there to discuss an arms contract.”

Which meant Bianca might have found the person who contracted the hit on the diplomat and Kearn.

“Who went on that trip?”

“Sam Long.”

CHAPTER 37

 

“The good news about Chatton off on a rabbit chase is that she can’t interfere with our plans,” The General told Wayan as they flew thirty-thousand-feet above the earth in a sleek Boeing 747. Things had been so much simpler when Czarion consisted of only him and Wayan.

Back before Chatton showed up with one of the five artifacts to decipher Orion’s Legacy. She hadn’t brought the thing with her, but she’d produced enough documentation to confirm she had the broken Celtic cross and it was
the
one.  

Wayan let out a polite sigh. He was often underestimated because of his boyish face and slight build, in spite of impeccable suits made by the finest tailors in the world. “She has become a complication. I am sure she had a hand in the failure of my laser unit.”

“I agree, but she was on another continent when the laser was activated so we don’t have any way to hang it on her. She might have helped that Slye bunch stop the laser from crashing the airliner somehow, but I’m betting she’s not too fond of them now that I think she’s convinced one of their people killed Edward Abbot.”

“Why is this diplomat important to her?”

“I don’t know. Yet.”  But The General would find out. He owed Chatton serious payback for that stunt she’d pulled at the Pentagon. “We just need to be careful around her.”

“My anti-aircraft laser will be tested again at some point when she is no longer an inconvenience. But our operation this Sunday is far more critical. This will be a one-time-only opportunity.”

The General nodded his understanding. “Everything’s in place. The Komodo has delivered Van Dyke Wodens to the second team and is the only person who can be tied to the bombing.”  

Pausing for a slug of his drink, The General set the glass on the table between them and continued. On the heels of the first explosion, my people will be part of the Guardia di Finanza who respond, and I have officers in decision-making positions who will insure my people stay on scene.”

“The detonations can not disrupt—”

“I. Know. The secret underground chamber will be undisturbed. Our artifact will be safe.”  The General tolerated Wayan’s constant micromanaging and obsessing over details because Wayan would be of use down the road. For now, The General would allow the Chinese power player to question everything. When the time came, Wayan would know who really commanded Czarion.

Wayan touched his tie as if to straighten it, but merely tapped the knot with his finger. “I would prefer to be there myself for this one.”

Five-foot Asian guy? “You might stand out as part of an Italian counter-terrorism unit.” The General let obvious sarcasm edge the comment.

Wayan’s eyes narrowed into slits, and the black centers shifted with a deadly slide toward The General. “I find your humor wearing.”

I find you just as annoying, but I’m not complaining so what have you got to bitch about?
“You should lighten up, Wayan. Life is short.”

“As is our time together. For this, I give thanks,” Wayan countered. “You are sure of this Komodo?” he asked for the tenth time.

“Yes, I like the way he operates, supplying weapons to his own personal terrorist squad for the past couple of years. The Komodo knows nothing about our men on the Guardia di Finanza, only that his men are to rush inside as soon as the third bomb goes off.”

“The Guardia understands the priority.”

The General liked being interrupted about as much as he liked having every detail questioned. Not at all. “Yes, our select group of Guardia will be carrying Van Dyke Wodens in addition to their own weapons, so when the smoke clears, the authorities will have nothing but the bodies of Komodo’s men, who will be holding the
same
Woden rifles that mowed down the Swiss Guard defending the Vatican. Our men will drop those Wodens at the scene before the authorities show up.”

Listening with an intent look on his face, Wayan pointed out, “But you said you have not met this Komodo in person.”

“No, Komodo only knows the Banker and the Banker agreed to never meet Komodo in person.  The Banker works through electronic communication primarily, only meeting in person when he deems it necessary.”  The General’s one-way emails to the Banker couldn’t be tracked back to him and the Banker triple deleted emails from the server, just as The General did on his end. “Komodo was behind the three terrorist attacks I briefed you on. His track record speaks for itself.”  

The General didn’t pause or Wayan would question the Komodo’s track record. “But enough about him. Casualty count for this Sunday is estimated at three thousand of those attending the inauguration for the new pope. As a bonus, taking out the new pope will pay an outstanding debt we owe to our Italian friends. In my country, that’s called killing two birds with one stone.”

Wayan showed as much enthusiasm as a man having a colonoscopy with no anesthesia. “Our team inside the Vatican must find the scroll with the inscription within twenty-four hours.”

That might not be realistic, but there was no point in arguing with Wayan about something that had yet to occur. “They know.”

“The timing is imperative,” Wayan pressed. “This event will bring many national security agencies to focus on the Vatican.”

“Some will blame it on the Bilderberg group.”  The General loved how conspiracy theories sometimes played in his favor, especially when he knew first hand there was some truth to the rumors. Influential government representatives and financial icons made up the Bilderberg group suspected of altering the course of the world from behind closed doors.

“Perhaps. You are quite certain no attention will be drawn to either of our governments?”

“Yes. I haven’t told you the best part of this plan.”

The slight angle of Wayan’s chin indicated he was greatly intrigued in spite of his simple, “Oh?”

“As soon as news of the attack hits the media, I’ll feed intel to the FBI that will put them on the trail of the Komodo. He won’t last long once
they
go after him.”

CHAPTER 38

 

“I found something,” Bianca declared softly since Ryder was picking up the remnants of Thai food he’d had delivered. Nothing like a Friday night to quiet the corporate floor of a major company. Everyone had left for the day, but music still played in Ryder’s office and they spoke in hushed tones. She loved music of all kinds, but after three days of nonstop music playing in the background she was sick of it.

When could they get out of here and find somewhere quiet?

“Good, because we’re leaving soon. It’s almost midnight.”  Ryder walked behind her and leaned down, sending her a whiff of him. No cologne today, just the warm scent of his skin, a nice musk that she was coming to recognize all too easily. He read over her shoulder. “What is this?”

“An email that bounces if you hit reply, which makes me think the two parties have a one-way email for each other that’s bounced through a series of servers.”

“This belongs to someone in VDE?”

“Yes, but I haven’t been able to nail down who. Took me a while to find this and it was only after I started searching for deleted emails still on the server. I’ve been digging through everyone’s communication for the time periods around Kearn’s killing and the British diplomat’s, and for the timeframes when weapons might have been shipped prior to attacks.”

Murdock would expect her to look for a connection that would lead the FBI and CIA to the terrorist in charge.

“That doesn’t say anything about weapons.”

“No, but there was another email before this...”  She hit a few keys then pointed. “This one lists a date and a specific time two years ago that payment would be deposited.”

He followed her finger, reading. “Got it.”

“That date and time was ten minutes after the bombing where my friend was killed.” Ryder stared for a long time. “Show me the other email you had up first.”

She did and sat quietly as Ryder read.

 

Half has been wired. Second half will be deposited at 0100 based on successful project execution on Sunday. Failure will come at a penalty, as agreed.

 

He straightened. “Same exact verbiage. Something is happening this Sunday.”  

She looked up at him. “Looks like it to me.”

“Any guess who this might belong to?”

“There’s a K at the end of the email. I’d need to get on the physical computers to crosscheck some things, but the emails were sent and received after ten at night in every case, sometimes after midnight. The only person logged on here at VDE when these were opened and the replies sent was Terrence.”


Terrence?
”  Ryder put his hand to his forehead. “He’s ... he’s not capable of this.”

She wasn’t ruling out anyone. “There’s the possibility that someone is sending from his computer, but Terrence also processes international shipping orders late at night.”

She was proud of how she’d managed not to let her hands shake. There was the lead they’d been looking for. She had to get this information to the FBI once she figured out exactly what was happening and where it was happening.

Ryder looked sick. She could appreciate that. She’d feel the same way if she’d just realized someone in her family was aiding terrorists, but Bianca was not going to allow anyone else to die the way Sara Lynn had.

Someone would finally pay.

She took Ryder’s hand. “I know it’s hard to consider.”

Ryder shook his head. He frowned the longer he stared at her computer. “It’s not that. I already told you that everybody is suspect, even Janeen and Terrence. But Lady Anne put her foot down a long time ago about Terrence’s hours. She mandated that Terrence could not be here more than six hours a day because of his health. He’s never had the stamina to stay out late. That’s why I said he’s not capable.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He has ITP. Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura. It’s a rare autoimmune blood disorder that Terrence used to call his purple disease because he bruised so easily. Hubrecht has given in to Lady Anne on practically anything to do with Terrence that didn’t affect the business, because of his illness. One reason I went to see Kearn when Terrence asked was because I’d gotten an email from Janeen that said Terrence came home from Switzerland depressed and wouldn’t share what the doctors said. Janeen thinks he’s dying, because he went immediately to update his will.”   

“That’s so sad.”  Bianca studied on why Terrence would come to work late at night. “Maybe Terrence is determined to show Hubrecht he can do the job and doesn’t want to be around people during the day so he sneaks in late at night.”

“Maybe.” Ryder did not sound convinced.

Bianca had turned back around and started closing out files when she stopped. “He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Terrence. He just logged on.”

Ryder moved around the desk.

She jumped up. “Where are you going?”

“To find out who
is
logged on.”

“What if it’s your brother?” she asked, coming around the desk.

He waited at the door. “What if it’s not?”

She conceded the point, but to be honest she’d feel much better about walking in on Terrence than a lot of other people at VDE who were much more threatening.

“Stay here,” Ryder ordered.

“Have you not figured out that I don’t take orders from you?”

“Please.”

“Nice try, but no.”  She hurried over to catch up to him.

Jaw set, Ryder strode ahead of her, exuding confidence that he could handle anything they faced. She hoped so since the person behind those emails might also be the one who had framed him.

Her heart had taken up kickboxing in her chest.

She’d like an injection of his confidence, but with or without it, nothing could stop her from finding out who was behind the terrorist attacks.

CHAPTER 39

 

Ryder held up his hand in a silent order for Bianca to hold up when he reached Terrence’s office door.

It was ajar and a light was on inside.

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