Seek and Destroy (22 page)

    
Don't
- His hand signals abruptly stopped and he sat up straight as he placed the phone back to his ear. "No, I wasn't. Sorry." He looked at David again. When David grinned and signed,
whipped
, Weber gave him the finger.

    He sat back and watched the unyielding Dan Weber start to sweat as he attempted to dig out of the hole he'd gotten into with his wife. Weber stood and ran his fingers through the stubble on top of his head. "I don't know. I. Don't. Know. It isn't like I'm just going to ask him." He sighed, rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure
you
would. No, you can not talk to him." He paused, looked at David. "Because
I
haven't got the chance to talk to him. You called before I could get more than two words-shit, I gotta go. Another call. Bye. No.
No
. He's right-" Weber growled and turned away from David. "I love you, too."

    He turned back around and gave David a warning glare as he pulled the phone away and pushed a key, bitching all the while about call waiting. "Weber. No, she isn't. Right outside, or at least she'd better be. I'm not at liberty to say. Oh she did, did she? She must have fast fingers. Because she called another agent not more than five minutes ago with the same news. Right, so much for keeping it under wraps. Need I remind you this was supposed to be confidential? Remember what we are dealing with. Her loose lips could
FUBAR
this entire operation. Surreal is supposed to be dead."

    That little tidbit got David's attention. He stopped counting the pinholes in the wall next to him and listened in. Did Weber say Surreal? As in the cyber-terrorist whose last act of terrorism included breaking into the Department of Defense and planting a bomb in the server room? If he hadn't tracked him down to his little shack in the hills of Montana before he detonated the device, the nation's defense systems would be back to punch cards.

    If only he'd found the crazy bastard before he blew up the first three server rooms. Or himself.

    Weber growled and curled his lip. "I don't care if she's the Queen of Spain! She needs to learn to keep her goddamn mouth shut." He nodded, and David figured the person on the other end must have been apologizing profusely for pissing off a director. "I haven't had the chance to brief her." He paused, listening and shaking his head. "No.
No.
I want your best. You said so yourself, she is the best. She successfully tracked down the agent who will bring Surreal in. From what you told me, she tracked Surreal down once before. Unless you want to go at it from opposite ends like before, we work together on this one."

    Before? David's mind took him back to the day he tracked Surreal to that shack. Did Weber know about that? Did he know Charis was the other agent?

    "He's dealt with the psycho son-of-a-bitch before and I'm going to need her to track him through the system." Weber looked at David then, and he understood why NASSD needed him back. Surreal was good, damn good, and terrorized the United States during his reign as the nation's top threat. He had a way of breaking into highly secure areas undetected, planting the device of his choice, and slipping back out before anyone suspected anything. Then he'd detonate.

    The man was like a shadow to track. As far as he knew, David had been the only one who'd ever seen him, which would explain why Weber wanted him on the assignment.

    But Surreal was supposed to be dead. He had to be. David had watched him die. Hell, they had to use a sponge and Ziploc bags for most of him, he'd made such a mess when he blew himself up. And a mess like that, they don't even count the body parts. Because they had nothing to compare it to, they never ran his DNA. He didn't see a reason to.

    Until now.

    

    

    Damn! Of course Surreal would have been smart enough to have a back up plan. Why didn't NASSD take that into consideration? Shit. Why hadn't
he
thought of that? Why didn't they at least test the DNA for multiple donors?

    The sick fucker got off on blowing up innocent people when he took out their defense and/or security system. David wouldn't put it past him to have a hostage tied up inside that little shack. When it blew into a million pieces, scattering
someone
along with the building, they'd assumed it to be him.

    "McKoy, we've gone over this. Your daughter has more than proven herself in tracking down someone who didn't want to be found." He looked over at David, who arched a brow in return.

    
So the hell what? I'm here now.
He dared Weber to say something, anything to why he'd left the agency. Taking a page from Charis' book, he'd be more than happy to tell him the truth, to tell Weber how it felt to be pushed aside like leftovers.

    So the caller must be none other than Malcolm McKoy. Weber sank back down in his chair as McKoy delivered some sort of news he apparently didn't want to hear.

    
What does he want?
David signed. Weber shook his head and brought his hand up to silence his query. "You do? And who would that be?" Weber shook his head. "I don't think so. It's Charis McKoy, or I use my own intel."

    Weber's harsh laugh caught in his ears. "Do you really think pulling rank will work on me?" He paused, listened. "No way. This is NASSD's show. You know the rules. ICE will be used as intel only. No, I won't. Because it's none of your goddamn business how I run my operations!"

    Holy shit. He'd had only seen Weber this agitated two other times in the five years he'd known him. Once when he discovered a mole inside the agency. The other when that mole had a part in the kidnapping his wife and almost killing her.

    The mole didn't fair well against Weber. David wondered how much farther McKoy would be able to push him.

    "I don't give a shit what you do. She is on this assignment." Weber pulled the phone back as McKoy obviously had a few words about his comment.

    He glared and pushed the phone back against his ear. As he met David's gaze, he rolled his eyes. "Of course safety is a priority. It is always our priority. But we can't let the son-of-a-bitch slip through our fingers again. He already took out that company's server room in Mill Creek. That one killed seventeen people. I just received word he took out another one a couple hours ago. The Special Agent in Charge is one of my best. I wouldn't assign anyone else as SAC on this. No, I cannot guarantee something like that. You know the risks here, McKoy. I can't even guarantee she won't chip the polish off her pretty little toes."

    He didn't like Weber talking about Charis' pretty toes, and definitely didn't like his reaction to the mention of any part of her anatomy. He'd been very intimate with those pretty little toes, and would appreciate Weber's respect to that fact.

    "Let me get this straight: I need your best e-tracker on this. Charis McKoy is your best e-tracker. But because she is your daughter you won't let me use her?" Weber shook his head. "Tough shit, buddy. You knew the conditions of her involvement when you agreed to the assignment."

    He gave David a tired look as he listened. Color crept up his neck as he stiffened. Not a good sign. Weber's voice grew low, serious and even. He leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table. "Why haven't you shared this with me before now? Yes, this does change things."

    "Weber," he urged, the suspense of whatever they discussed just about killing him.

    He held up his finger to stop David from saying another word. With a slight shake of his head, he silenced him. "Hardly. This makes her even more valuable to the mission. Yes. I'll have Sally set something up." With a grunt as his goodbye, Weber slammed the phone closed. "Jesus Christ. You aren't even in the field yet and already this mission is giving me a goddamn migraine."

    "What was that all about?" His heart rate picked up.

    Weber ignored his question. "I need to get you two briefed and on your way before anyone knows you’re back. Shit," he grunted and shook his head, rubbed his eyes. "I wish you would have told me you were on your way. McKoy's orders were very clear. I didn't want you anywhere near HQ, not with Surreal surfacing again."

    "Am I some big secret?"

    "I hope so. I'm looking for the element of surprise here." He grunted out his favorite cuss word. "If that is even possible anymore thanks to Loose Lips out there. Surreal may already know now. Still, now that you're back, I can finally put this plan into play."

    David listened.

    Weber leaned back onto his elbows. "Before I go into the detail, what assurance can you offer you'll stick around after what I have to say?"

    "How about the fact I came back at all?" he retorted, not bothering to cover up the irritation in his voice. Why would Weber even ask him that? After all they'd been through?

    Weber eyed him for a long time. The man had serious issues with trust. David knew he trusted him, but Weber's hesitation bothered him to the core. "Even if it isn't good news?"

    "Why would you call me back for a shit assignment? You aren't trying to pass me off to ICE again, are you?" His suspicions grew.

    "Jesus, no. It's just-" He paused and shook his head, lowering his eyes. After he brought them back, he locked them with David's. "We have a situation."

    He lost any concern he had for his own well-being and focused on his best friend. Weber didn't usually get this worked up about anything that didn't involve him personally. "Please don't tell me we have another mole."

    Weber cracked a slight smile. "No." With a deep sigh, he rubbed his eyes with his fists. The man definitely had something weighing on his mind. "David, how long have we known each other?"

    David? Oh, Christ. Weber used his first name. "About five years, give or take."

    "And in all that time, have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"

    "No," he answered without hesitation.

    "I need you to trust me."

    "That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"

    Weber's lip twitched. He chuckled slightly, but the sound didn't have an ounce of humor in it. "I need you to go under. Deep. As in disappear out of the system, at least for the duration of this mission."

    He dragged him back to Seattle for that? Hell, he could have told him that in Maui. "I thought I had."

    Weber shook his head. "McKoy found you in less than a week. A
week
. I need you to totally disappear. Erased."

    David's suspicions jumped to high alert. Weber would no longer look him in the eye. At all. "Why?"

    "You obviously heard the details of that call. I have yet to see you
not
pick up every detail in any situation."

    Except the minor detail Surreal may not have died in that explosion.

    "We have reason to believe Surreal is still alive. A bombing three weeks ago, with another today, pretty much sealed it. It is his MO. Same type of bomb, same symbol of a broken heart on the device. He sends in those letters that never make any sense until after he strikes, and then all the clues stand out like a virgin in a damn whorehouse."

    He threw out a chuckle. Leave it to Weber to come up with an analogy like that. He had to remember that one.

    "You do realize what it means if it really is Surreal and not some copycat?"

    David paused. Aside from another six months of late nights and never-ending dead end leads, he couldn't imagine it meant any more than that. "I get to go exploring in the hills of Montana again?" Wonderful. In the dead of winter.

    "Funny, smartass. If he is still alive, that means he may come after you. You really pissed him off when you tracked him down. No one else had been able to do that," Weber continued. "Well, almost no one." His eyes drifted to the door.

    "You knew it was her?"

    Weber brought his gaze back down. "When did you figure it out?"

    "Back at the hospital. You?"

    "About three weeks ago when Surreal resurfaced. I pulled the file."

    "Did it mention her name in the file?"

    Weber shook his head. "But she'd been assigned to track him, and then we had ICE up there unannounced. After the op, she disappeared for months. It doesn't take a brain like yours to figure it out."

    Leave it to Weber to find a way of giving him a compliment and throwing it at him as an insult.

    "Surreal doesn't say anything about McKoy in his letters, but he definitely hates you," Weber stated gruffly.

    Too bad. "One less person I can expect a Christmas card from." Didn't bother him in the least. He wondered if Surreal even knew Charis had been the other agent in that field. If so, maybe she'd been able to charm him into not hating her. God only knew how she'd charmed the hell out of him.

    "I didn't think Surreal had seen either one of us. How do you know he ID'd me?"

    "He mentioned you
by name
in his last letter, threatened to take it public if his demands weren't meant."

    Oh shit. "And Charis? Maybe he isn't referencing her in his letters because he didn't know she tripped the device." Please God let him be right.

    Weber grunted. "I have no idea, seriously. He may be playing with us to get to her. Now I understand McKoy's hesitation on having his daughter on this."

    No. Hell no. Surreal couldn't know her. If he did, that meant... Hell no! "How could Surreal possibly know her?"

    "When Surreal turned into one of America's Most Wanted, McKoy e-tracked him. She got real cozy with the man."

    "She did what?" He didn't like the sound of that. He ignored the pinch in his midsection. He wasn't jealous. He had no reason to be. "Just how-"

    "I know what you are going to ask."