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Chapter Seventeen

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Viper strode into Monk's Cafe and looked around. She nodded to the bartender and moved down the long bar until she reached the turn that would take her into the back room. The lunch rush was over and Happy Hour hadn't begun yet, so the pub-like bar was minimally occupied. A few tables in the front had patrons nursing a pint or finishing a late lunch. When she entered the back bar, only two of the tables were occupied. Two men in dark suits sat at the table closest to the entrance, full pints in front of them. As she entered, they glanced at her before returning to their low voiced conversation. The other occupied table, in the corner in the back, hosted a single man dressed in a suit, and she crossed the room towards him. As she approached the table, Jack stood with a nod.

“Hello, Maggie,” he greeted her and held out his hand. “Thank you for coming so promptly.”

Alina smiled, shaking his hand automatically before seating herself. He sat with her and motioned to the waitress watching from across the bar.

“I'd hardly keep you waiting,” she said. “I'm surprised that you're back in Philadelphia.”

The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes creased as Jack smiled.

“Officially, I'm not. Unofficially, I stopped on my way to Washington, DC.”

The waitress arrived, and Alina ordered a lager. She nodded, glanced at Jack's mostly-full glass and left.

“Thank you for contacting me,” Alina said as soon as she had gone. “I assume you have information?”

Jack nodded and sipped his beer, studying her over the rim of the glass.

“I do,” he said after a moment, setting the glass down. “Tell me, do you make it a habit to hunt out the most challenging missions possible, and then tackle them single-handedly?”

Alina raised her eyebrows, a laugh leaping into her eyes.

“I may or may not have developed that reputation,” she replied, a smile pulling at her lips.

“I feel compelled to point out that, while you may have had success up until now, you can only tempt fate so many times.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Jack smiled ruefully.

“Perhaps.”

She studied him for a moment.

“Your concern is duly noted, especially given the fact that I know exactly how reckless your field days were,” she said after a moment, the smile still playing with her lips.

“Have you been doing your research, Maggie?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I prefer to know who my friends really are, if that's what you mean. You’ve had quite a career. It’s rather like the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you say?”

“It takes one to recognize one.” 

The waitress returned to set Alina's beer in front of her. They waited for her departure before Jack spoke again.

“Am I your friend?” he asked quietly, his eyes meeting hers.

“I like to think so, but only time will tell,” Alina replied, lifting her beer. “I've learned it's best to wait before applying labels. It saves removal fees.”

Jack let out a bark of laughter, drawing swift glances from the two men at the other table. Alina watched from the corner of her eye as they quickly turned back to their conversation.

“I gather they don't see you laugh much.” 

Jack raised his eyebrows and he studied her for a second.

“What gave them away?” he finally asked.

“The suits. They're tailored, and not American.” Alina shrugged and took another sip of lager. “And the sidearms under their jackets, of course.”

Jack smiled.

“Duly noted.” He drank some of his beer, then set it down with the air of someone getting down to business. “I owe you something of an apology.”

Alina raised her eyebrow. “Oh?”

“When you told me last time that you thought I would be very interested to see what happens next, I'm afraid I didn't think it likely. There's quite a bit going on at the moment, and I didn't think anything connected to a bank account in Singapore would turn out to be very compelling. I was wrong.”

He reached down beside him and pulled a slim, black leather briefcase into his lap. Snapping it open, he cracked it just wide enough to extract a tan folder from within. A moment later, the case was back on the floor beside his chair and the folder was face down on the table between them.

“Before I give this to you, I want to make one thing very clear. Her Majesty's Secret Service was never involved. We don't know a thing about this, nor would we want to.”

Alina nodded. “Of course.”

Jack's eyes met hers.

“That being said, I am very interested in what happens next. I don't pretend to have the slightest understanding of exactly what it is that you're trying unravel, but I know an explosive when I see it.” He tapped the folder. “This is a bomb. If you set it off, for whatever reason, you need to be prepared for the fallout.”

Viper smiled, and the smile didn't reach her eyes.

“I'm not the one who needs to be worried.” 

Jack stared at her for a long moment, trying to read her, then slowly nodded.

“I hope you know that I am your friend,” he finally said, reaching into his inside pocket to extract a small case. He pulled out a card and slid it across the table to her. “If you need to contact me, use the number on this card. It is a direct line, and the fastest way to get me.”

“Thank you.”

Jack nodded brusquely and slid the folder across the table.

“This is the only copy of this,” he told her. “No one else has seen it. There’s no digital copy, so for God’s sake, don't lose it.”

Viper nodded and took the folder, turning it over. It was tied shut and CLASSIFIED - FOR YOUR EYES ONLY was stamped across the front.

“You really use that?” she asked, looking up. “I thought it was just in James Bond.”

Jack grinned.

“Traditions, my dear Maggie. They are ever upheld.” The grin faded and his gaze grew serious. “Be careful out there. These are dangerous waters you're wading into, and I don't need to tell you how quickly they can pull you under.”

Alina's dark eyes met his.

“Don't worry about me. I'm an extraordinarily good swimmer.”

He smiled.

“I am, of course, relieved to hear that. I'm looking forward to our rain check. It would be a shame for it to be permanently postponed.”

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Hawk finished making himself a ham and cheese sandwich and turned to put everything away in the refrigerator. Alina had left over an hour ago after receiving a message. She didn't say who it was from, nor where she was going, but she did ask to borrow the Audi RS 5 that he was driving these days. That in itself told him she was doing something she couldn't risk having anyone track.

Lifting the sauté pan down, he placed it in the center of the island. While he had every confidence that Viper would eventually tell him where she had gone, Damon admitted to himself that he was curious. The message hadn't been from Charlie, of that he was certain.

He descended the stone steps, ducking at the bottom to avoid hitting his head on the low overhang. He pressed the button on the wall to seal the opening and moved toward his laptop. As he passed the first plasma screen, he glanced up at the image of Kasim in Independence Hall. His lips tightened imperceptibly. It was one thing to hunt the bastards overseas, but a whole different ballgame to see them in your own backyard. Now it felt personal, and it was never personal.

Hawk sank into his chair and took a bite of his sandwich before setting the plate down next to his laptop. He opened the lid and glanced over to the PC Viper had been working on before she was called away, eyeing it consideringly. He'd noticed earlier that she didn't keep a screen lock on that computer. Picking up his sandwich again, he took another bite, turning his attention to his own screen. A moment later, he eyes slid again to the dark monitor a foot away.

Swallowing, he slid his chair over. The temptation was just too great. Viper wouldn't have left the message on the screen, but there might be some indication as to where she had gone. If not, he'd go back to his own work, and no one would be any wiser. A little voice inside his head called him a fool as he shook the mouse, waking the monitor up.

The screen opened and, as expected, the secure message was gone. Everything was minimized into the tray at the bottom, and Hawk found himself looking at a black patterned background. He was turning to slide back to his laptop when one of the tabs at the bottom of the screen caught his attention. It was a logo he knew well.

“I'm going to regret this,” he muttered to himself, reaching for the mouse.

He clicked on the tab and a map filled the screen. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking at, and when he did, his eyebrows snapped together. It was a map of Iraq, circa twelve years before, detailing troop movements within a two-week span. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, studying it. After a moment, his eyes dropped to the tray at the bottom of the screen again, looking for a particular icon. Finding it, he clicked, pulling up old satellite images from the same area and time frame.

Damon sat back with a frown, staring at the images speculatively. Why the hell was Viper compiling a time line of troop movements in Iraq twelve years ago? The frown deepened and he turned his head, looking to his left. A little further down, partially concealed by a hard-drive, was a picture frame. He could just make out half of John's smiling face. Standing, he went over to pick up the frame, studying the three people in the old photo.

Damon had seen it before. It had appeared a few weeks ago, the only photo in the entire house. It was a snapshot of a much younger Alina, flanked by her ex-fiancé on one side and her brother on the other. David Maschik was tall, tanned and laughing into the camera. He was in civilian clothes, home on leave, but the stamp of the Marines was clear in the way he carried himself. Damon stared at the face, so similar to Alina's.

Why was Viper examining her brother's company movements so closely? What, exactly, had Dave sent to John in those attachments?

He set the photo back where it had been pushed nearly out of sight and went back to his chair. He took one last look at the satellite image before minimizing it again, then studied the map for a long while. He was unfamiliar with that section of Iraq. By the time he was in that part of the world, the hot spot had moved to Afghanistan. He had never had occasion to visit Iraq while serving in the Navy SEALs. After joining the Organization, he'd only passed through once, and it was on the other side of the country. This area appeared to be sparsely populated, with scattered villages surrounded by mountains. It had to be the northeast region somewhere.

Hawk finally minimized the map and slid back to his laptop, his brows furrowed. If Viper was digging into history, it could only mean that she'd found something relevant on John's external hard-drive. With all the activity in the past twenty-four hours, it was hardly surprising that she hadn't told him yet. His lips tightened, and he glanced back to the picture frame, only a corner of which was visible from his seat. If Viper was getting closer to unraveling the deaths of those two men, she was getting closer to unleashing the emotion that she'd been keeping a very tight hold on for the past month. When she finally let it go, there would be no stopping the fury she would unleash.

Damon opened up his remote access to continue trolling through chat rooms, looking for Kasim. He just hoped that as Viper destroyed those responsible, she didn't also destroy herself.

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Alina switched lanes on 5th Street and pressed the gas. The Audi accelerated effortlessly, and she flew up the right lane, following the curve of the multi-lane road as it bore right to turn into the Ben Franklin Bridge. Traffic was getting heavier as rush hour approached. She wanted to get over the bridge and onto Rt 70 before five o'clock hit and the forty-five-minute drive to Medford became a two hour one.

She glanced in her rearview mirror before moving into the middle lane on the bridge. As she did so, her phone began vibrating against her thigh and she pulled it out, pressing the speaker icon.

“Yes?”

“Hey, are you alone?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“I've got something on that account number you asked me to look into,” he said. “Which do you want first? What I have, or what I don't have?”

Alina's lips twitched. “How can you give me something you don't have?”

“Knowing what I don't have is still something,” he said with a short laugh. “Trust me.”

“Tell me what you know first.”

“The bank account was opened a year ago. Last spring...around this time, actually. It was opened with one point four million in US dollars, and the deposit was cash.”

Alina frowned.

“Around this time?” she repeated. “Can you be more specific?”

“Really? Fine. Hold on.”

Alina waited, listening to him typing. She glanced in her rearview mirror again, then to her right at the Delaware River far below.

“April 29th,” Michael said. “Why is the date so important?”

“Just a feeling I have. It might turn out to be nothing. Someone walked in with one point four million dollars in cash?”

“Yep. Crazy, right? I feel uncomfortable walking around with a couple hundred in my wallet. Can you imagine strolling up with millions?”

Alina thought of the many times she'd traversed Europe and Asia with several thousand in cash and smiled faintly.

“So what don't you know?”

“The name. Hell, I can't even find out if the account holder is male or female.” Michael sounded disgruntled. “There is one thing that you might be able to use, though.”

“Oh?”

“The branch it was opened in is on the mainland in Singapore. That week there was an international summit taking place and the island was filled with diplomats and heads of security from over twenty different countries. The day the account was opened, someone got a little trigger happy and caused an incident near the bay. Half the city was shut down by police, making travel in and out impossible.”

“Whoever opened the account was already there,” Alina said slowly, following his train of thought. “What branch was the account opened in?”

“If you're thinking of checking surveillance footage, forget it. I already tried. It doesn't exist.”

Alina's brows snapped together.

“What do you mean it doesn't exist?” she demanded.

“Just that. There's footage from every day that year, except that one.”

“You could have led with that. That would be information that falls into the 'what you have' category.”

“How is that something? It doesn't tell us anything.”

“It tells us that whoever made that deposit didn't want anyone to know about it, even by accident,” Alina said grimly, driving off the bridge and following the highway around the toll booths. There was no toll in this direction and she moved into the left lane, merging onto 676.

Michael was silent for a moment, then she heard him sigh.

“I should have realized that,” he muttered. “God, I'm more tired than I thought.”

“Send me the branch number and the time the account was opened. I'll work with what we've got. How's progress on Mr. X?”

“I was pulled into something at work and I’ve been focusing on that, but I should make some progress in the next couple days. There are a few things that might lead somewhere but, for the most part, he's as clean as they come. Are you sure you're not kicking over the wrong rock?”

“Increasingly, yes. Keep at it. And gunny? Don't get caught.”

Alina disconnected the call and dropped her phone on the passenger seat. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel briefly. They were so close! She could sense it. Every lead was going the same way, pointing in the same direction. They were closing in on the bastard, and the closer she got, the more convinced she became that Mr. X was in the center of it all. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned into an ugly line.

Soon someone would pay for Dave and John's deaths, and Viper would make sure they did it screaming.