Silver Fire (Guardians) (30 page)

“He called five minutes before you came in, he just touched down in Dulles. He’s going to swing by his house for a change of clothes before he heads out here.”

“Excellent.”

Derek walked to the break room. He had not slept well since Saturday, not even bothering to shave. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. How could he fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to him? Although his instincts were telling him that he had no control over the evil scheme that was set into motion, he wondered if he had stayed with Sophie instead of attending the fundraiser, her abduction could have been prevented. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he took a sip before he felt him.

He knew without looking that it was Viktor who stood behind him. That man generated his own brand of lethal frequency.
 

“You look like shit,” Viktor said, walking over to the coffee bar to pour himself a cup.

“Thanks, you’re not looking any better,” Derek muttered. He never knew Viktor to be anywhere except AGS. The man lived and breathed the agency.
 

Viktor chuckled. “I’ve been coordinating with the CIA.”

Derek turned a wary eye at the older man. “To do what?”

“Don’t worry, Derek, they’re not planning an assault on wherever Bishop is holding Sophie. They’re already working under the assumption that the bombs are built.”

“Sophie would never—” Derek began angrily.

“Wouldn’t she?”

“Beth,” Derek said in resignation.

“That’s the only reason they would take Ms. Turner. Use her as leverage. We already have Parker on lockdown.”

“So what do we have?”

Viktor nodded to one of the briefing rooms. Closing the door behind him, Derek leaned against it.
 

“Damian Stoltz is looking to acquire a section of mines in Lesotho—that landlocked country in the middle of South Africa.”
 

“Lesotho? This whole mess is about diamonds?”

Viktor nodded. “The CIA has reason to believe that Stoltz has turned ruthless in dealing with the locals. With the Abu-Haxa Brotherhood growing in numbers by the day, he has to keep up by hiring more personnel and it’s costing him money. Companies are also using him to scout locations suitable for business and his choices are dwindling because of the growing resistance.”

“So he’s decided if he can’t reason with them—”

“He’s fucking blowing them to the next kingdom.”

“
Jesus Christ,
” Derek muttered.
 

“Clean slate,” Viktor said. “NSA has caught some chatter about it. I’m having Tim feed that to our permanent data searches in that region: Project Clean Slate.”

“So he’s just going to wipe out an entire village? Town? How can he get away with this?”

“Nobody cares,” Viktor said. “Diamonds are not oil. The world is not watching. Look at Darfur and Rwanda. People don’t care unless it affects them directly. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a politician in Washington who gives a damn about Africa.”
 

“And the CIA cares because?”

“They see Stoltz as a bigger threat. He cares only about his bottom line. He doesn’t care that he’s creating a breeding ground for terrorism. The Abu-Haxa Brotherhood is not fully classified as a terrorist organization yet, but they’ve demonstrated their commitment to fight foreign tyranny by attacking an American citizen on US soil because of a perceived threat to their way of life. If Stoltz becomes indiscriminate in wiping out towns all over the continent, that will justify Abu-Haxa
 
in bringing the war to us—the people who line Stoltz’s pockets.”

“Whatever the plan is, I want in,” Derek said firmly.

“It’s the CIA’s call.”

“I want in, Viktor.”

“Why?”
 

“I don’t trust anyone to get the job done. I’m presuming we’re going to find and stop the bomb from going off.”

“That’s the rough plan, yes.”

“If that bomb goes off, there’s no hope for Sophie ever coming back from this,” Derek said, his voice getting hoarse.

“Derek, it’s the third day. You have to be prepared that Sophie might not come back the same person. Bishop is fucked up.”

Derek stared grimly into space for a beat; a lump had formed in his throat. He had gone over that possibility a million times. She might come back a shell of herself, requiring years of intense therapy. But he always came back to the same conclusion: he would be there for her. He would sit with her in her darkest insane hell and drag her back to a life with him. He squared his shoulders, looked at his friend steadily and said, “I don’t care. I’ll have her any way I can, as long as she’s alive. I could help her heal, I’ll soothe her when those fucking nightmares come, but I know I can pull her through this. But the bomb going off? That’s gonna kill her. I’ll be damned before I let that happen.”

Viktor exhaled deeply. “You love her.”

 
“No, Viktor. I’m fucking in love with her,” Derek qualified resolutely.
 

***

Sophie flipped the magnifying goggles over her eyes and worked on the intricate wirings on the PCB board. She had to re-cast the design because Yuri had it all messed up. She studied the mesh of wires under a lamp and sighed. Well this trigger should work. Suddenly, an idea struck her. She straightened up and pretended to work, extending her neck from side to side in a semblance of a stretch, all the while keeping tabs on where everyone was, especially Yuri and his lab assistants.

Satisfied that they seemed to be engrossed in fitting the zefinium cores into the bomb casing, she quickly soldered the wires crisscrossed on the copper conduit patterns that were not in the original plan. She was working on the third circuit board when she heard a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Everything fine?” Justin asked.

Feigning annoyance instead of letting him see the sudden fear that clutched her heart, Sophie said, “God Justin, you startled me. Stop sneaking up behind me!”

His lips twitched, as if he were controlling a smile. “Sorry my dear Sophie, it’s just the way I walk.”

Sophie raised a brow. “Like a cat burglar.”

Justin chuckled. “Touché. So, everything all right?”

“So far. I’m almost done with the circuit boards for the trigger. I just need to create another one for the test. We can install them tonight.”

Justin stepped forward and raised his hand to her face. Sophie flinched. He sighed as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be afraid of me, Sophie,” he said softly.

“I’m not.” Sophie tried to smile. “Actually, yes I am. What you did to Beth—”

“I gave you a choice,” Justin said tightly.

This man is nuts
, Sophie thought,
what kind of choice did he give me? My best friend or an entire town?

“I need to finish this,” she said instead and turned back to her work.
 

Sophie felt a wave of relief when he walked away. Returning her attention to the trigger, she deftly twisted a wire around the small board and affixed it to a circuit. That should do it.

She was allowed to visit with Beth early this morning after Justin had kept her away from her friend for a day as punishment for Sophie’s defiance the other night. Beth was in the room near the kitchen. Her friend had been looking pale, her skin felt clammy and the wound had been bleeding on and off. Sophie feared she might develop an infection and she did not trust Justin to take Beth to a hospital if her condition worsened. Sophie wanted to quickly finish the work so she would know their fate. What would Justin do to them? Kill them? Probably. However, the sickening promise in Justin’s eyes told a different story. Sophie’s stomach churned with renewed dread. Her eyes dropped to the mini screwdriver on the work table. Tempting.

“I’m done with the power supply, Dr. Leroux,” the assistant said.
 

“Okay, I’m done with the trigger, too,” Sophie replied. “Let’s hook it up.”

Walking over to another aluminum table, they connected the circuit board with the power supply and using a power meter, Sophie measured the output at different locations on the board. The trigger output used a complex algorithm to manage the release of a fuel compound that would initiate the fusion reaction of the zefinium cores.

“Looks good,” Yuri noted as he walked over.
 

“How are the cores coming along?” Sophie asked.

“We need to file down the crown of the housing so it will fit more snugly, but I do not foresee a problem. All the other wirings are in place, we just need to fit the trigger and the fuel capsule.”

“Good. We’ll touch base later,” Sophie replied.
 

“You’ll put your annotations on the research document?” Yuri inquired.

“Doing that right now,” Sophie said as she walked back to her station.

It was over. It was done. She was going to hell.

***

Justin walked away from Sophie, his patience threatening to snap. For a minute he thought they had a connection, but it quickly disappeared when he tried to touch her face. Her skittishness to his touch angered him and the idea that she preferred Derek Lockwood to him made him want to dominate her in the most brutal way.
 

He wondered if his plan had worked. He and Morgan waited outside the building for his grand scheme to go down. The excitement he felt when he saw the AGS car arrive was palpable; he had timed everything perfectly. Hacking through Blackstone’s phone was too easy—Opperman had seen to that. Everything took less than ten minutes. Sophie looked devastated when she left the building, and her friend appeared to be comforting her.
 
Justin had radioed his team to prepare the attack on the car. It was late at night, near a stretch of business buildings; the only witnesses were panhandlers who were either too drunk or drugged up to give a damn.
 

Taking Sophie was easy; bending her to his will was a different matter. He did not want to hurt her, but the urge was there. He struggled last night, wanting to go to her even just to hold her close, but he feared her rejection, and he feared what he would do if she pushed him away. Justin understood his sudden rages were quickly followed by sadistic lust. He did not want to commit the same mistake with Sophie as he did with his first wife—his now deceased first wife.

He stole another glance at her, admiring her svelte form, her quiet grace, the tumble of platinum blonde hair. Ever since that night at the bar, he had fantasized about her naked body beneath him, her limbs wrapped all over him as he possessed every cell that was her.
 

One more night. He would give her one more night to herself before he made her his.

***

“Anything?”
 

Brett shot him an annoyed look. “No. And if you ask me that question five minutes from now, the answer will still be no.”

Derek clamped his mouth shut. He was getting impatient. Brett came in five hours before and had immediately gotten to work. He was a lankier version of Jack. As an environmentalist, Brett was more than eager to go after Blackstone International’s secure data network. And he was in his geek zone. Potato chips, a 64-ounce soda and a couple of Snickers bars. Viktor had strict rules about eating in the datacenter, but what Viktor didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
 

“Tim, can you bring up the network on the Morocco server?” Brett asked the data analyst. After a few minutes of rapid keystrokes, Brett said, “Bingo.”

When Derek did not say anything, hacker boy angled his eyes at him and said, “Now is the time to ask your question.”

If he did not need Brett, Derek would gladly strangle Jack’s brother. He was such a dickhead.

“What do you have?” Derek asked through grit teeth.

“Blackstone International made a sizeable deposit to a bank in the Cayman Islands,” Brett said as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth. “The deposit was divided among nine banks in Switzerland, Luxembourg and Singapore. Eighty percent of it coalesced into a bank in Johannesburg, South Africa— an account belonging to one Damian Stoltz.”

 
“And the rest?”

“Eric Opperman.”

“Blackstone was the moneyman the whole time,” Derek muttered. How could he sit there, have dinner with Sophie while plotting to steal from her?

“That was our assumption,” Tim said. “We just didn’t have enough evidence.”

Brett went back to his fiddling on the keyboard. “Damn, they found me. They’re throwing wrenches at me in their network.”

“Blackstone?”

“Opperman.”

Brett was hacking through several networks simultaneously.

“Just one more file. I think I can get it. Oh no you don’t, you fuckwad.”

Derek stood rigidly behind Brett as he watched what looked like a war game on screen. Files disappearing, Brett grabbing it, transferring it out through his firewall until finally pushing a file to Tim’s computer. “Open it, I’ve already decrypted it,” Brett said tersely as his frown deepened, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Tim opened the zipped file which unloaded several documents. “This is a rental for a farm in Culpeper, Virginia. Owner of the farm is one John Wilkinson, rented out to a Dan Brown.”

“Huh, Dan Brown, does that name sound fishy to you?” Derek said. “Any driver’s license?”

Tim pulled up the DMV database and searched by the license number given on the rental form. “Holy shit.”

“We got him, the son of a bitch,” Derek grunted when a face fitting the description of Bishop as provided by Layla filled the screen.

“Uh guys,” Brett said. “Here are more files.”

“Great job, Brett,” Derek muttered, looking over Tim’s shoulder. The remaining files were surveillance photos and data. He got what he wanted. A possible location for Sophie.
 

“Can you bring up satellite images of the farm?” Derek asked.

“On it,” Tim replied. “Should show up on the widescreen in a sec.”

Sprawling satellite imagery appeared on the LCD display that spanned the length of the datacenter. A dilapidated ranch style home and an old red barn were surrounded by tall grass and weeds. A long dirt road led to the house.