Special Ops Affair (15 page)

Jag could see how his past would make him feel that way. If he’d lost two women he loved, it would jade him, too.

Entering the atrium, Jag saw the reporter who’d followed him and Odie amongst a cluster of plants and trees. He sat on a sofa reading a newspaper, or pretending to. Jag swore under his breath and stopped, holding his arm out so Calan did the same.

“What’s the matter?” Calan asked.

“Reporter.” He nodded toward the sofa where the reporter was looking over the top of the newspaper toward the elevators. He hadn’t seen them go into the restaurant and was waiting for him and Odie to come down from their room.

“Why is there a reporter here?”

“Long story. Let’s go out another way.”

Jag led him down a hall near the checkout counter and followed the signs to the parking garage.

“Is he following Frasier’s murder?” Calan asked.

“No, he’s following Odie and me.”

“Looking for a story?”

“One he hopes will lead to Cullen, I’m sure.”

Calan nodded. “That’s right. Odie was in the news back when he rescued that woman from Afghanistan.”

“Now you see our problem.”

“Now I see
your
problem.”

Jag drove them to Alexandria and pulled to a stop in front of Senator Raybourne’s house. A car drove past but there was no one on the street. It was beginning to get dark. He and Calan walked to the door. Jag knocked. When no one answered, he rang the bell. Still, no one answered. There didn’t appear to be any lights on.

He glanced at Calan.

“You think she’s already come and gone?”

“Maybe.” He tried the knob. It wasn’t locked. He looked at Calan again.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Calan said.

And Jag agreed. His instinct was yelling a warning at him. He reached under his shirt for his gun. Calan did the same, covering Jag as he entered first.

The house was dark and quiet.

Calan covered Jag as he went from the shadowy great room and kitchen area to a den and two guest rooms. Jag climbed the stairs to the second level ahead of Calan. On the landing, Jag covered Calan as he entered another bedroom.

Groaning coming from the room at the end of the hall made Jag hurry there. He entered the master bedroom. Lying on the floor, Alice was tied and coming out of a stupor. Tucking his gun back into his pants, Jag turned on a light and knelt beside her. He checked the bloody cut on her temple before untying her wrists.

She blinked up at him, obviously still disoriented.

Calan untied her ankles.

“Are you all right?” Jag asked.

Alice propped herself up onto her hand, sitting on her hip with her legs curled. She rubbed near the cut on her temple and eyed him.

“Who are you? You look familiar.” Then she blinked some more. “You’re that man Odelia was with. You came to my Kate’s funeral.”

“What happened here?” Jag asked.

Her breathing became more erratic, as if she only just then remembered why she was sitting on the floor of her bedroom with a cut on her head.

“Luis…he came home and he…” Her eyes widened. “He heard me talking to Odie. She told me Frasier was killed and…and…and Luis…we fought and then he…he hit me.”

“Where is he now?” Calan asked.

“He—he’s going after her. You have to hurry.” She began to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“Where? Where did Odie go?”

“I…I don’t know. I think Luis was going to go to the hotel where you’re staying with her.”

Jag doubted that. More than likely he’d get Hersch to send someone else after her. Just as he’d done before.

“I confronted him about everything Odelia told me,” Alice said. “Sage’s mission, Frasier’s death. And Luis’s involvement. He was furious by the time he left. He said he was coming back to take care of me when he finished with Odelia.”

Why didn’t he just kill her before he left? Maybe he loved his wife and hoped to browbeat her into submission. Dangerous. Alice could go to the police anytime. More likely he’d have Hersch take care of her. Unless he was beginning to realize he was reaching the end of his rope. How many more people did he think he could get away with killing?

“What did Odie say about Luis’s involvement?” Calan asked. He stood to Jag’s right.

“She said she didn’t believe you were responsible for everything, Luis was. I should have listened to her. I didn’t want to believe he was capable of…” She broke down into tears.

“She believed Luis was behind all this?” Hope soared in Jag.

Alice nodded through her tears. “I should have never broken up with Frasier. We could have gone somewhere for a while, just until this all went away. He’d still be alive now.”

“You have no way of knowing that. Frasier wanted to avenge his brother’s death as much as Odie wants to avenge her husband and father’s, and now Kate’s. You wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”

Alice sniffled and didn’t look very convinced. “What am I going to do now? Where will I go?”

“I know someone I can call to watch over her while we’re gone,” Calan told Jag. “We can’t leave her here alone in case Raybourne makes it back before we do.”

But that wasn’t what Alice had meant. She was alone without Luis. What would she do? “You’re going to be all right,” Jag told her. “Odie will make sure of it.”

Calan made the call.

Where was Odie? He had to find her, Jag thought hard. Where would she have gone?

Her key logger…

She’d go get that first. Jag had left the visitor badge in the hotel room. He checked his watch. She’d probably already been there and left. So, she’d go to Hersch’s and then the internet café. She wouldn’t be worried about him catching up with her now. She was on their side. His side.

“Wait for me,” Odie told the cab driver, handing him a hundred-dollar bill. “There’s more if you do as I ask.”

She’d told him to wait in front of the hotel, too, while she went in to get Jag’s handy visitor badge. And now she’d asked him to park along the street in front of Defense Initiative.

He smiled. “Sure thing.”

Leaving her laptop in the backseat, she got out and jogged toward the back of Defense Initiatives. It was getting late in the evening and this was ballsy of her to go in alone, without a gun. But she didn’t really see a choice. Things were going to happen fast now and she didn’t want to lose valuable information her key logger had recorded. If it had recorded anything. Hersch may not have done anything untoward on his computer in the last few days.

She took the same route to the shipping door. The badge worked like a charm and she silently thanked Jag for being so thorough. She was still mad at him for taking Calan’s side earlier, but she didn’t blame him. He’d seen the truth before she was able to accept it.

Upstairs, she heard the sound of someone tapping away on a keyboard. Someone was working late. She avoided that area and made her way to Hersch’s office. Around the corner of a cubicle wall, she saw that his door was open and a light was on.

“Damn it,” she whispered.

Ducking into a cubicle, she listened. He was talking on the phone but she couldn’t decipher what he said. But then his voice grew louder. He was coming out of his office.

“I’ll take care of it,” she heard him say. “Meet me in the warehouse in one hour.”

Who was he talking to? Had they alerted him to her presence? It didn’t seem so. But she wouldn’t take any chances. She had to hurry.

Odie leaned around the cubicle wall. Hersch held a cell phone to his ear and walked toward the front of the building. Rushing into his office, she stuck the key logging device into the USB port and waited a few seconds. The software would automatically download all it had recorded. She pulled the device out and went to the door. The hall was empty. Stepping out of the office, she headed for the stairs. In the shipping area, she glanced at the camera before pushing the door open. She broke into a run and sprinted all the way back to the waiting cab, looking around for anything out of place. It seemed clear.

“Downtime Internet Café,” she told the cab driver, who checked the still-running meter and then eyed her in the rearview mirror. “Hurry.”

He began driving. She glanced behind her through the rear window. There was a car, but she hadn’t seen it when she’d gotten into the cab.

“Drive faster,” she told the cab driver.

He eyed her in the rearview mirror again.

“There’s more money if you do.”

The cab sped up and she tensely waited out the ride.

When the cab stopped, she handed the driver a wad of cash. He smiled.

“Sure you don’t need me to wait?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She didn’t know how long she’d be so she’d let him go this time.

“Thanks, lady,” he said when he saw her sizable tip, on top of the hundred she’d already given him.

Taking her laptop with her, she got out and looked up and down the street. Not seeing anything notable, she went into the internet café and paid for an hour. She found a seat that was relatively secluded and booted her laptop.

She put in the key logging device and scanned through Hersch’s activity. He’d logged into his computer and email several times. The email was through a browser. Just moments before she’d gotten to his office to retrieve the data, he’d sent an email.

Getting too close. We need to move ahead of schedule.

Odie used Hersch’s login information to get into his email remotely. Once she had the screen up, she sorted the emails to bring up all from the same sender.

There was an email thread arranging to meet.

We have a contract for Afghanistan. I’ll meet you where we planned for the exchange. Do you have your end cleared?

It was vague and cryptic, but Odie would bet her thong underwear that it was Dharr. And Hersch’s client had to be Luis.

Dharr replied with: Clear.

The next email read: There’s been a delay. We have a problem with the Afghanistan contract. Someone is looking into L’s affairs. Call me when it’s safe and I’ll explain.

The reply came back from the nondescript email address.

This deal is too important. Who is it? I will handle it.

Odie felt chills ripple over her arms and over her scalp. The someone looking into Luis’s affairs was Kate.

Her name is Kate Johnson. Following that was Kate’s home address.

We proceed as planned came Dharr’s response. Dharr killed Kate. Luis hadn’t given the order. But he’d told Hersch and that was the same as assuring her death.

Hersch responded with: Everything will be shipped to M-EX by the end of next week.

Odie checked the date. Just three days before Kate was killed. Hersch must be planning to ship tomorrow for a Friday delivery in Albania. From there the arms would be transferred to Afghanistan, where Dharr had somehow managed to make it appear as if the arms were going to a legitimate military force.

Odie forwarded all the emails to Cullen. Maybe he could trace their origin.

She searched through the other emails but found nothing of value. Shutting everything down, she put her laptop in its case and headed for the exit.

She paused at the door and scanned the street, wishing she’d have told the cab driver to wait again. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No familiar cars. No strange men lingering here or there.

Pushing the door open, she walked to the curb and looked for a cab. She saw one and waved. Just as it pulled over, she spotted a man standing across the street taking pictures. Of her. It was the reporter. Glad the cab had arrived, she got in.

“Grand Hyatt,” she told the driver. He started driving.

Looking back, she saw the reporter hadn’t moved, but still watched. She relaxed against the seat, but then noticed the driver was slowing to a stop.

“What are you…?”

Two men got into the backseat, one on each side of her. One of them pushed a gun against her ribs. The other was Hersch.

Chapter 11

J
ag parked in a handicap spot and left the rental running as he got out and headed for the internet café. Calan was behind him. It was the same internet café he’d found Odie in before. He didn’t see her through the front windows and got a bad feeling.

Inside, he went to the counter where a young man stood watching their approach.

“We’re looking for a woman who may have been here. She’s on the tall side, dark hair, blue eyes.”

“Beautiful. Nice body,” Calan added.

Jag sent him a warning look.

“Yeah, there was someone in here like that. She had a laptop with her. Just left a few minutes ago, caught a cab out front.”

“Thanks.” Jag left the café and stopped just outside, scanning the street.

He saw nothing unusual, but his gut told him something different.

“Isn’t that the reporter?” Calan asked.

Jag followed his gaze to a car parked across the street. He headed there. The reporter started his car. Jag must’ve looked ominous or something because the guy seemed scared.

At the driver’s door, Jag made a roll-down-your-window gesture with his hand.

The reporter eyed him dubiously and lowered the window three inches.

“Where did she go?” Jag demanded.

“What’s it worth to you?”

“Your broken nose if you don’t tell me.”

The reporter contemplated him for a moment. “I want an exclusive on her. She does an interview with me.”

“No deal. Where is she?” He was getting pissed.

Calan moved to the front of the vehicle. Now the reporter would have to drive over him to get away.

The man noticed and looked up at Jag. “I know you two are up to something and it’s more than a family friend’s murder. That’s only part of it. What’s going on? Are you investigating Defense Initiatives? What did Frasier Darby know about it?”

“I don’t have time for this. You tell me where she is right now and nobody gets hurt.” He lifted the hem of his shirt so the man could see his gun. “My friend has one just like it.”

The reporter looked from the gun to his face.

“I’ll break this window and shove it in your mouth in two seconds if you don’t start talking,” Jag said.

“She left in a cab about fifteen minutes ago,” the reporter relented. “Two other guys got into the cab after she did. They left their car parked over there.” He pointed to a black sedan not far from the internet café. “It’s the same car that followed her after she left Defense Initiatives to come here. It passed me when I was following her, too. I’ve been following her since she left the hotel.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No, I wanted to find you. I was going to call the police if you didn’t show up. But look, here you are.”

Jag thought about breaking the window anyway to get his hands on the man. He didn’t call the police because he was hoping to get a story out of this. Hersch and his men had taken Odie. Her life was in danger and this little puke had done nothing.

Where was she? Jag looked up the street, wishing he knew. Not knowing would cost him too much time.

He turned back to the reporter. “You better hope she’s okay. If anything happens to her, I’m coming after you.”

The man’s eyes widened a little and he looked from Jag’s clenched fists to his face again. “I know where they took her.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

The reporter didn’t answer. A story. He wanted a damn story.

Jag pulled his gun free and raised it, ready to bash the window.

“They took her to Defense Initiatives.”

“How do you know that?”

“I was standing on the sidewalk when they paid the taxi cab driver to give them his car. One of them told the new driver of the cab to take her to DI. I’m assuming that means Defense Initiatives.”

“They didn’t see you?”

“I had my camera. I pretended to take pictures and not notice. They didn’t bother me.”

“Thanks.” Jag started back toward the rental.

“Hey, wait!” The reporter got out of his car and stood on the sidewalk. “What about my interview?”

Jag kept going.

“What does Defense Initiatives have to do with Frasier Darby and Colonel Roth?” the reporter yelled.

Jag reached the rental.

“Do you want me to call the cops now?” the reporter yelled again.

Jag didn’t care what he did. He had to get to Odie, fast. He got into the rental. Calan slammed the passenger door shut.

“He’s awfully eager to splash you and Odie all over the news.”

“It would be a boring story.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You both work for Cullen McQueen, who’s still in the covert ops business, breaking international laws and pissing off foreign diplomats who know it’s the U.S. government in disguise when someone newsworthy ends up assassinated.”

“You pay too much attention to the media.” Jag drove fast down the street, blowing a stop light on the way.

“You going to marry her?”

Jag swung a glance over to Calan, startled.

“That’s what I thought,” Calan said.

Was it that obvious that he wanted her? Not to marry, it was physical with her. Now. What if he continued to see her after this was over and they went back to Roaring Creek?

Did he want that? He didn’t see how it would work. He’d go on other assignments and be gone for months at a time. She’d remember why she swore off special ops men and that would be the end of that.

Why put himself through the agony?

Because she might be worth fighting for…

He’d never met a woman who made him strive to work so hard to get her. She wasn’t like his ex, not at all. She was someone he could be with permanently. But could he put his heart that far out for her? He trusted her on a professional level, but on a personal one? She might be honest and forthcoming, but would she let herself love him?

Did he love her?

He was afraid he was starting to. Odie was tough. Nothing brought her down. She was beautiful and smart. But he had to protect himself. He had to be sure she felt the same and wouldn’t go running once she got in too deep.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“You’ve had your fun. Let’s focus on what needs to be done here.”

“I am focused. Are you?”

Jag glanced over at him again. Calan was right. “I am now.” No more thinking about a future with Odie. If he was going to save her he had to stop getting distracted.

Hersch’s man gripped Odie’s arm and dragged her out of the car. He was wiry and tall but very strong. He had white hair and looked to be in his early fifties. His light blue eyes were creepy and lined by deep, sagging wrinkles. He wasn’t aging well and course white hair peeked out from the top button of his shirt. She thought about fighting him, but the driver was already out of the cab, aiming a pistol at her head. He was shorter than the hairy one, and more muscular. Younger, too, with dark brown hair that hadn’t begun to gray yet.

“Bring her,” Hersch ordered.

His man yanked her into a walk beside him. The driver followed. They were at Defense Initiatives, heading toward the loading dock and shipping entrance. Inside, they brought her through the shipping area and turned left where the building opened to a sea of cubicles. Forced to walk along the outer edge of the cubicles, they reached the far corner where double doors were secured by a keypad. Hersch entered a code and the lock released to allow them in.

Odie looked back over her shoulder as the doors closed and the lock clicked back into place. If anyone were able to find her, they’d have a hard time getting past that.

The man holding her jerked her. “Get moving.”

She stumbled and faced forward. They were in a small warehouse. There were crates stacked in the middle and not all the florescent lights were on, so it was dim. There was a single rolling service door that opened to what must be the loading dock she and Jag had passed on their way in to the shipping area.

The man holding her shoved her. She tripped and regained her balance, but ran into a crate.

“Have a seat,” the man said. She sat on the crate and looked from him to his two henchmen.

“We’ll have a little conversation while we wait,” Hersch spoke this time.

What was he waiting for?

“The first thing you’re going to tell me is what you took from my office.”

“Nothing.” It didn’t matter if he knew, other than the risk of him killing her in a fit of rage. She’d already sent everything to Cullen.

“I have you on recording entering and leaving my shipping room. You used a visitor badge. Now, I suggest you start talking.”

“What are you waiting for? Or should I ask who?”

“What did you take from me?”

She didn’t answer.

Hersch nodded at the man who’d hauled her here. He fisted his hand and swung. Ducking out of the way, she dodged his blow and sprang to her feet, kicking the side of his knee. He went down, his gun sliding across the concrete floor. It was too far away from her.

Odie pivoted, ready to fight.

The shorter man raised his pistol. Hersch stood calmly, his head angled mockingly.

The man she’d kicked climbed to his feet, anger making his eyes piercing. He favored his right leg as he went to get his gun. As he turned, he cocked the pistol and approached her, jabbing the side of her head with the gun when he reached her.

She met his furious gaze.

“Just say the word,” he said to Hersch.

Hersch palmed the air, indicating for the man to lower his gun. “Not yet, Duke. Lower the gun. Give the girl some room for air so she can talk freely.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you.” He lowered the gun and stepped back.

If only she’d picked up a gun before going to Hersch’s office. She’d already be on her way back to the hotel.

Hersch moved closer to her. She faced him, ready to defend herself if necessary.

“I know who you are,” he said.

Had Luis spoken with him? The senator didn’t know what kinds of missions TES operated, but because of Kate he knew they were geared for counterterrorism and that they were all covert. He could do a lot of damage. Did he know she was on to him? Maybe Alice had told him…

“You may think with your fancy training that you can get away with crossing me, but you should reconsider. You aren’t armed, a surprising, if not foolish, decision on your part. You’re outnumbered, and no one knows where you are. The wise thing to do is to answer my questions.”

“Why, so you let me go?”

His lips slithered into a contemptuous smile. “What have you discovered and who have you told?”

What would he do if she told him? Kill her and go after Cullen and Jag and anyone else associated with TES? Lots of luck with that, she wanted to tell him. He wasn’t going to let her go. He’d try to close every loose end to protect his business. But his loose ends were multiplying.

“It’s over,” she said. “You can’t win. Even if you kill me, there will be others.”

Hersch stepped in front of her and put his hand on her neck, squeezing his fingers. “What did you find and who did you tell?”

She lifted her chin, not trying to get away from his grip, just letting him know without words that she wasn’t saying anything. And she wasn’t afraid.

“You went to an internet café. So you must have sent something to someone. Who was that?”

If Luis had told him who she worked for, he already knew. Or maybe he needed more specifics. Even Luis in a panic knew better than to reveal Cullen’s identity. He didn’t stand a chance against him.

“Someone you can’t touch,” she said. “And someone who will finish what I’ve started.”

He stepped back. “Then there’s no point in talking further.”

He gave a nod to his two henchmen. The shorter one still aimed his gun at her. The taller one just smiled.

Jag got out of the rental with Calan and they walked toward the entrance of Defense Initiatives. Exterior lighting illuminated the landscaped grounds. Trees and shrubs curved in front of the building and a few cars were parked in the meagerly lit parking lot.

“Are we just going to walk right through the front door?” Calan asked.

“Yes. If she’s here like that reporter said, Hersch would have taken her somewhere secluded.” Like a basement or something. Somewhere that would be easy to clean up and hide evidence. He didn’t like the thoughts that provoked… Odie being killed. She probably thought she could defend herself on sheer will alone, and if she got a hold of a gun she’d be an opponent to reckon with. But she wasn’t skilled in operations. Her expertise was intelligence. She didn’t know how dangerous people like Hersch could be, especially when their livelihood was threatened.

They had to find her. Fast.

“It won’t be hard to disable the security guards and I doubt Hersch is expecting us this soon,” Jag said, thinking aloud.

“Right.” Calan pushed the door open and walked into the building.

A single security guard sat behind the reception desk. He looked up from his computer screen and saw them.

“We’re closed.”

“We know,” Calan said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Thanking the universe for their luck in having to deal with only one guard, Jag didn’t waste time and went around the counter, slipping his hand under his shirt for his gun.

“Hey,” the guard said, standing up. “What are you—”

Jag raised his weapon and gave the man a hard chop on the back of the head. The man fell.

Dragging the man into the men’s bathroom near the reception counter, he joined Calan where he waited by the door leading to rest of the building.

It was quiet on the upper level. Calan walked behind Jag but on the opposite side of the hall along a six-foot wall of cubicles. Ahead, Hersch’s office door was open, as if he’d left in a hurry and forgot to turn off the lights and lock up.

Jag peered inside and swept the room with the aim of his gun. Giving Calan a nod, he resumed his careful steps toward the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jag checked the shipping area with Calan covering him. It was clear. There were no sounds of struggle. No voices. No screams. The lights were turned low.