Lord of the Wolfyn and Twin Targets (29 page)

You’re the Iceman,
he told himself.
Pull it together.

“They haven’t found anything we didn’t already know or guess,” he said, answering Jimmy’s question about the evidence techs. “And we’re not going to change that by sitting here and staring at them.” He turned for the door. “Let’s go.”

Jimmy hesitated. “Can I have a minute? I’d like to…you know, say goodbye.”

John didn’t bother pointing out that they’d already transported the body. He nodded. “Make it quick.”

A
N HOUR LATER
,
THE MAJOR
crimes unit was assembled in a conference room deep within Quantico. Sydney was in a “guest” room down the hall, with a locked door that assured she was going nowhere until John was good and ready for her to leave.

He’d had it with working around her. This time, she was going to give them everything, or he’d nail her with obstruction, conspiracy and whatever else he could think of.

“She’s got immunity,” Jimmy reminded him when he muttered something to that effect.

John glared. “Not anymore she doesn’t. That email voids the immunity agreement. Period.”

There was silence from the four teammates assembled around the table. Jimmy sat next to John. On the other side sat sharpshooter Michael Pelotti and Drew Dietz, their evidence specialist. There was an empty chair between Drew and Michael, where Grace would’ve sat.

John felt her loss keenly. She’d been the one to sometimes soften his rough edges, the one who’d challenged him to tread the middle ground.

Then again, the middle ground had gotten them where they were now. Maybe it was time for a take-no-prisoners type of approach.

“She might be telling the truth,” Michael said, his tone thoughtful, like the man himself. Dark and lean, the sharpshooter spoke the way he fired—smoothly and deliberately. “Tiberius is clever. If he figured out he could use Sydney to put you off your game, he’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not off my game,” John growled. “I’m fine.”

But Michael had known him a long time, longer than the others. “I don’t think she’s working for him, to be honest. I just don’t see it. Think about it for a second—Tiberius could have looked into your background, found out about the other incident and figured a fake email implicating Sydney would be a good way to push your buttons. Even if it didn’t, he could be assured you’d throw out her intel the moment you suspected she was still working for him. That’d push back any plan for raiding the island. Maybe that was his goal.”

“You’re giving him too much credit,” John said. But he couldn’t totally dismiss the possibility. First, because he trusted Michael as much as he trusted anyone, and the sharpshooter was leaning toward Sydney’s side, and second because, damn it, despite his knee-jerk fury when he’d first seen the email, the more time passed the less likely he found the whole scenario.

Sydney had said it herself. She’d risked her life to lock down her work and escape from Rocky Cliff Island. With her sister safe and an immunity deal in place, what leverage could possibly compel her to accept another offer from Tiberius? She knew what happened to his loose ends. There was no way she would’ve believed he’d let her walk away once it was all over.

Which suggested she was innocent—of the email, at least.

“So what’s the plan?” Jimmy asked. There were deep shadows beneath the computer tech’s eyes, and his shoulders sagged under the weight of his grief. The youngest and newest member of the group, he hadn’t experienced the loss of a teammate before, and Grace’s death had hit him hard.

“Whether or not the email is a fake,” John said, trying to reorient his brain and make a new set of decisions on the fly, “and I’m not willing to say one way or the other right now, it was good enough to fool Grace. It should be enough to get permission for a raid, especially coupled with the other intel we’ve managed to accumulate.”

That got everyone’s attention. Michael said carefully, “What other intel?” His real question was obvious: Why didn’t we know about it?

John spread his hands. “Sorry for the secrecy, but this was really need-to-know stuff from one of the other teams working Tiberius.” And he wasn’t the only one who suspected there was a leak, not in his team, but somewhere higher up the chain of command. The team leaders were keeping a very tight hold on their information as the case developed.

“And?” Jimmy prompted.

John said, “There’s been some serious chatter between the island and reps of four other major players.” He named three of the country’s ranking mob bosses and a wealthy importer who specialized in drugs from south of the border. All four had recently been indicted and were awaiting trial, three for murder, one for rape.

All four of the cases hinged on DNA evidence.

Michael whistled. “He’s lining up his buyers. Does that mean he’s cracked the computers?”

“Unknown.” John scrubbed his hands across his face and heard stubble rasp.

Exhaustion beat at him. He’d been up for… Hell, he’d lost track of how long it’d been since he last slept. He needed to rest; they all did. But there was no way he was letting Tiberius get away with what he appeared to be planning.

“I’ve looked at the programs,” Jimmy said, making a visible effort to focus on the conversation. “They’re good. Better than good, even. But they’re not uncrackable.”

“Could you break them?” Michael asked.

“Under a deadline? Fifty-fifty,” Jimmy said. “But given enough time and firepower, yeah. I think I could.”

“So if he’s contacting buyers, odds are that he thinks his people are close to breaking the code,” John said.

“Or he was counting on getting his hands on Sydney during tonight’s attack,” Michael countered.

In the ensuing pause, Drew spoke up. “Not to be a total buzzkill, but how do you know he doesn’t already have Sydney’s viral vector? What if he was contacting the buyers to set up payment and drop points?”

John shook his head automatically. “He doesn’t have the bug yet. If he did, he would’ve left Rocky Cliff. There’s no way he’s staying there long-term. He’s too vulnerable there. We know too much about the defenses, and he knows we…” He trailed off, realizing what he’d just said. “Oh, hell.”

The logic played, which meant Tiberius didn’t have the bug…and Sydney hadn’t sent the email.

If she were working with Tiberius again, and had asked him to break her out of the safe house, then she would’ve already given him the password. He wouldn’t have committed his forces without that assurance.

Ergo, Sydney hadn’t sent the email. Somebody else within the organization had done so.

And he’d refused to listen to her claims of innocence. Like the cold SOB they called him, he’d automatically assumed the worst of her.

“Is it possible to send something from one computer and make it look like it came from another?” he asked Jimmy.

The tech didn’t even hesitate, as though he’d been thinking along the same lines. “Yes, if you use one of those remote uplink programs, the ones that let you dial in to your home computer and use your own on-screen desktop and stuff from a remote location. It’s conceivable that someone could hack in and send an email that looked like it came from Grace’s laptop, under a Hotmail account they’d set up using Sydney’s initials, without ever touching the machine.”

“Which could mean this doesn’t involve anyone on the inside,” Michael observed.

“Not necessarily.” John tried to talk himself out of it, but couldn’t see any other way. “There has to be someone working for Tiberius, not on the team or surveillance, necessarily, but somewhere in the network. There’s no other way he could’ve known not only the address of the safe house, but also the surveillance posts. Also, they knew they needed to get a second counterpassword from Grace. There’s no way they would’ve known that without a heads-up. I just can’t see Grace volunteering the info, regardless of what hell they put her through. She was too good an agent for that.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Drew said, “So what’s the plan?”

“I can only see one choice,” John said finally. “We can’t risk Tiberius getting the bug into circulation. We’re going to have to raid the island.”

“Think you can get it sanctioned?” Michael asked.

“More or less,” John answered. “I’ll call in a few favors, collect an insertion team I trust and get permission on the hush-hush. I can’t help thinking if we do this all the way through official channels, Tiberius is going to be a step ahead of us the whole way through.” He paused. “We might even think of filtering some misinformation through a few channels, and see what comes back. It’d give us an idea where the leak is coming from.”

Jimmy nodded. “Drew and I will come up with some suggestions.”

Michael, who was the muscle of the group, and the one with the most combat training, said, “Give me names and I’ll get with the insertion team.” He paused. “Are we using the intel from Sydney?”

John nodded. “Yeah. Use it. Get back to me with any questions.” He paused. “Anything else?”

There were negative head shakes all around.

“Okay.” John stood, body as tense as if he were going into battle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I owe Sydney an apology.”

A
FTER AN HOUR OR SO
sitting alone in the drab conference room, Sydney’s tears had dried and she’d stripped out of the heavy, uncomfortable Kevlar vest. She folded it and used it as a pillow as she tried to nap while leaning on the conference table, but the bulletproof vest didn’t rank very high in the comfort department and she couldn’t calm her brain enough for sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw Grace’s face. And when she wasn’t picturing the murder, she was imagining handcuffs and a jail cell, because there was no doubt in her mind that was where she was headed next. If Sharpe believed she’d sent that email, he wouldn’t hesitate to tear up the immunity agreement.

The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that was what was going to happen next. So much so that when the door swung open, she shot to her feet, expecting cops with handcuffs and chains.

It wasn’t the cops. It was Sharpe.

Her first thought was that he looked tired, her second that even tired, he looked incredible. And the latter made her angry, because how dare he look so good when she was miserable, and how dare her body still react to him when he’d just proved he’d always think the worst of her, despite her protests to the contrary.

She lifted her chin and glared at him. “I. Did. Not. Send. That. Email.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you before.”

It took her a second to process the words, longer to comprehend their meaning. When she did, the images of handcuffs and chains vanished and she collapsed into her chair. “You know?” The question came out small and quivery, but on the heels of relief came a flare of anger. She regained her feet. “Well, good. And you
should
be sorry. You should’ve believed me. You can’t say you’re interested in me one minute, and then think the worst of me in the next. It’s not fair.”

She half expected him to tell her it was all off, that he’d rethought the idea of them being together and decided it was a bad idea, that he didn’t want her enough to deal with the complications. And in a way that might’ve been a relief, because it’d take the decision out of her hands and give her a reason to hate him instead of wishing for things that seemed impossible.

But instead of saying it was over before it’d even begun, he spun one of the chairs so it faced hers, and sat, gesturing for her to do the same.

When she was seated, he said, “You’re absolutely right—I should have listened to you, and I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

She regarded him warily. “What changed your mind?”

“We—well, Jimmy and Michael, really—stepped back and looked at that email, and finally figured out that the logic doesn’t add up. Someone—most likely Tiberius or someone working for him—was trying to make you look guilty in order to complicate things at this end.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gee, you think?”

He exhaled. “I should probably explain what happened back there.” He paused. “I was involved a few years ago…with someone who was part of a case.”

That was so not what she’d been expecting, that it took her a moment to reorient. She also had to breathe past a hot knot of something that wasn’t quite anger, wasn’t quite jealousy. When she’d settled the uneasy churn in her gut, she said, “Grace mentioned that you’d been involved with a witness.”

“A witness.” He grimaced. “I guess that’s an accurate term, albeit a kind one. Her name was Rose.” He paused, and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to keep going. Then, as though reaching a decision, he exhaled a long breath. “We’d been working as part of a multi-agency task force trying to bring down a major criminal working out of Boston. His name was Viggo Trehern, and he was seriously bad news. The task force had managed to get three people on the inside pretty early on—a woman who went under as Trehern’s mistress, the doctor who handled his addiction to prescription meds and one of his enforcers. It wasn’t my call, but none of them knew about the others, so when it went bad, it went bad fast. The woman died, the doctor’s cover was broken and the enforcer dropped out of sight for a while. We needed another way in.”

“Rose,” Sydney said. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “Rose. It was my job to find the weak link. I did my homework, and picked the most likely candidate for turning. She’d been Tiberius’s lover, but was a good enough cook that when he got tired of her in his bed, he kept her in the kitchen. We watched her for a few weeks, got her patterns down, and I arranged to bump into her at a nightclub near the theater district.”

“You seduced her to get her on your side?” Sydney said, suddenly not liking this story at all.

“No.” He shook his head in an emphatic negative. “We were friends, nothing more. She was a good person stuck in a bad situation, and I gave her a way out. A deal. Immunity for information.”