| |
Stephanie strode through the lobby, her phone pressed to her ear. The other end rang a few times before switching over to voicemail. She pressed end with a low curse and dropped the phone back into her pocket. John, standing inside the door talking to another agent, glanced up and saw her coming. He frowned at the thunder on her face and started forward, meeting her halfway.
“What happened?”
“Moon's dead,” Stephanie said shortly, “and the virus is gone.”
“Where's Blake?” John asked, pulling out his phone and hitting speed dial to call it in.
“He's still up there.” Stephanie stopped and faced John. “Where's Kwan?”
“In the back of Blake's car, under guard,” John told her.
“And the mystery attackers?”
“No ID yet,” John said. “Their prints aren't in our database.”
“Of course not,” Stephanie muttered, turning and continuing toward the door. She paused, then turned back. “The killer's long gone, I'm sure, but let's keep the building sealed off anyway. No one gets in or out until we sort this all out.”
John nodded, turning away to give the report on the phone. Stephanie continued out the door of the hotel without looking back. Neither of them noticed the slim musician get up from a chair behind a potted fern nearby. He moved across the lobby, his soft guitar case over his back, heading for the hotel bar. As he walked, his head bent over the phone in his hands and he typed away on the screen. Anyone watching saw a sight they saw hundreds of time a day: a young man engrossed on his phone, oblivious to everything around him. The musician hit send and slipped the phone into his pocket as he wandered into the bar.
A few seconds later, 140 miles south of Philadelphia, a secured message came through on a tablet.
FBI have custody of Kwan. Moon is dead, and virus missing. Two agents down. Awaiting instructions.
The message elicited a soft curse and then long, deadly silence as the reader stared at the tablet, lost in thought. Finally, slowly, they answered:
Abort mission.
Viper was waiting for Hawk when he returned to his white electrical van in a parking garage a few blocks from the hotel. She was leaning against the side of the van, the hood of a black sweatshirt pulled up over her head and her arms crossed over her chest. One ankle was crossed over the other, and as he moved across the parking garage, she raised her head slowly, her face cast in shadows.
Damon didn't need to see her face to know she knew the truth.
Suppressing a sigh, he continued toward the van, watching her as he approached.
“Mission accomplished?” she asked when he came within feet of her, her voice a chilling caress on the breeze.
“How long have you known?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” Viper asked, her eyes glittering dangerously.
“I guess not.”
Hawk pulled out his keys and beeped the van unlocked, moving to the back. Opening the back door, he tossed the guitar case inside and closed the door. Viper was on the other side, inches from his face. He hadn't heard her move from the side of the van.
“What's the story with Kwan?” she asked him, blocking his path to the driver's door.
Damon sighed and leaned against the back of the van, his blue eyes shuttered as he looked at her.
“I don't know,” he told her. “I was sent for Moon. I didn't know anything about Kwan until I got here.”
Viper stared at him for a long moment, her face unreadable.
“How long have you been tracking Moon?” she finally asked.
“Four weeks.”
Alina's eyes narrowed and she shook her head slightly.
“Any ideas who was running Kwan?” she asked.
Damon shook his head.
“No,” he said. “Do we know someone was?”
“Well, two spooks with government written all over them tried to kill him tonight,” Viper told him, leaning next to him and crossing her arms over her chest again. “So, someone was watching him.”
“You were there?” Hawk asked sharply, glancing at her. He encountered a cold smile.
“Yes.”
“You weren't...” Damon started, then stopped, his blue eyes searching hers.
“No.” Alina dropped her eyes from his. “Your little speech about Moon not being my target did its job, even if it did have a hidden agenda.”
Damon winced inwardly at the razor-sharp tone in her voice.
“Then what were you doing there?” he asked, ignoring the underlying barb for the time being.
“Kwan dropped off the grid after he extracted the virus,” Alina replied. “I knew the only person he would sell the virus to was Moon. I also knew someone in the CIA was protecting him. I promised Stephanie I wouldn't let Kwan slip through the cracks.”
“So you came to make sure he didn't disappear after giving the virus to Moon,” Damon finished. He smiled reluctantly. “I hope the Fearless Feds realize what an asset your friendship is.”
“They might not see it that way just now,” she murmured ruefully. “I gave them two extra bodies.”
“The spooks after Kwan?” Damon asked.
Viper nodded.
“They went for him in front of the hotel,” she said. “The Fearless Feds seemed paralyzed, so I took matters into my own hands. There were three of them. I got two, but the third went into the hotel and never came back out.”
“Any scouts?”
“Not that I could see,” Viper said. “If there were, they were in the park with me.”
Hawk stared across the garage thoughtfully.
“You think another section of the agency wanted the virus?” he asked.
“I can't image what else they would have wanted with Kwan.”
“Well, they didn't get it,” Damon said softly, pulling a flash drive from his pocket. “I did.”
“Did Charlie ask for that?” Alina asked, glancing at the flash drive.
“No.” Hawk tucked it back into his pocket. “But it was too dangerous to leave it behind.”
“If Stephanie's basement gnome is as smart as they think he is, he could probably use it to find out where the money went,” she commented thoughtfully. “Lord knows Stephanie could use a break right now.”
“I'll consider it.”
Alina nodded and fell silent. Her phone vibrated against her thigh, but she ignored it. Damon glanced down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“It wasn't all a lie, Viper,” he said softly.
She raised her head and Damon caught the flash in her eyes before they became guarded again.
“We both lie,” she said with a slight shrug. “I guess now we're even. At least you didn't drug me.”
“Lina...” Damon turned toward her, but she held up her hand, stopping him.
“It's done,” she told him flatly. “There's no point in discussing it.”
“I think there is,” Damon muttered, his blue eyes glinting dangerously.
“You're entitled to your opinion,” Alina retorted, straightening up. Her entire body hummed with warning, making him think twice about trying to pursue the subject. “Are you leaving town now?”
Hawk studied her for a long moment, his face suddenly unreadable.
“That depends on you,” he finally said.
Viper gazed back at him, her eyes cold and shuttered.
“No, Hawk,” she said quietly. “It never depended on me.”
Michael sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He was sitting on the deck in the darkness, drinking a beer while Angela was still pacing around the living room on her Bluetooth, trying to put out fires at work. Raven perched on the roof of the garage, settled down and watchful, keeping one eye on Michael and the other eye on the trees. He had been there since Michael came outside half an hour before, trying to escape Angela's level of stress inside the house.
Michael glanced at the name on the incoming call and raised an eyebrow.
“Hey,” he answered. “Kind of late for you to be up, isn't it?”
“Look who's talking, old man,” Blake retorted good-naturedly. “Some of us have work to do, you know.”
“Or the appearance of,” Michael shot back with a grin, drawing a chuckle from his friend. “What's up?”
“Your girlfriend around?” Blake asked, his voice turning serious.
“Why do you want to know?” Michael answered, frowning.
“Moon's dead,” Blake told him. “Someone went in and took out him and his entourage. They had a window of maybe eight to ten minutes to get in and out.”
Michael stared across the dark lawn.
“And you think it was her,” he said, rather than asked.
“She's the only professional I know of in the area,” Blake replied. “Not saying it was her, but it's a pretty big coincidence.”
Michael sighed, rubbing his forehead. Viper wasn't the only professional in town, but Blake didn't need to know that. Blake already knew too much as it was.
“Even if it was her, and I'm not saying it was, what are you going to do about it?” he demanded. “You can't touch her. She's got protection at levels higher than mine!”
“Hell, Mike, I don't want to do anything about it,” Blake protested. “As far as I'm concerned, whoever did it should get a medal. This guy was an asshole and no one could get near him. I'm not shedding any tears over here.”
“Then why are we having this conversation?” Michael asked, lifting his beer to his lips.
“I just thought you'd be interested,” Blake told him. “Look, Mike, your business is your own. God knows I'm the last one to judge and give advice. But, if you find out it was her, do me a favor? Tell her to stop getting involved in FBI investigations. Trying to keep track of the bad guys is hard enough without having to juggle a scary-ass, highly-trained, bad good-guy!”
Michael chuckled.
“You're just pissed that you have paperwork now,” he accused him.
“Damn straight I am!” Blake retorted. “I have to go. Stephanie's giving me the evil eye. I'll catch up with you tomorrow.”
“Ok,” Michael agreed. “Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling.”
After a brief silence, Michael could almost see Blake nod his head.
“No problem, gunny,” he replied.
It was nearly three in the morning when Stephanie finally rode the elevator down to the parking garage beneath the FBI building. John had left about half an hour before, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. She shook her head tiredly as she leaned against the side of the elevator.
Splitting her time evenly between the two crime scenes, she had spent most of the time at the hotel running between the Parkview Suite and the roped off driveway. The two musicians had been shot precisely in the head, from the direction of the park. Agents sent into the park reported two light posts were shot out in a corner of the park with a clear view to the front of the hotel. Beyond that, they found no other trace of the shooter.
Up in the Park Suite, the situation was similar. Five dead bodies were the only pieces of evidence to say that a killer had ever been there. Stephanie thought they caught a break when one of the techs found a wireless camera in the wine and cheese basket on the table, but the excitement was short-lived. The camera had already stopped transmitting, making it impossible to find the wireless signal source. Blake had bagged it and tagged it, but Stephanie didn't hold out any hope. Matt wasn't a miracle worker, no matter what they all liked to think. After discovering the miniature camera, Blake went through the suite again, looking for more, and came up empty.
With the one lead gone as fast as it had come, Stephanie returned downstairs where she was met by John, accompanied by the hotel head of security. After reviewing the hotel security footage, John informed her the cameras had picked up absolutely nothing. Moon's killer was invisible.
The elevator lurched to a stop and the doors opened. Stephanie stepped out into the parking garage, stifling a yawn. They had returned to the office so late that she was able to park right next to the elevator, and she beeped her car unlocked as she stepped into the garage.
Kwan was in lock-up, being held until she could interview him. Next door to him was Turi, awaiting transportation down to Washington DC with Blake. Two dangerous criminals were behind bars. Stephanie should be satisfied, but as she opened her driver's door and slid behind the wheel, she wasn't.
She didn't have the virus.
She had Kwan, and Blake was right. Having Kwan was better than having nothing at all, but Stephanie wanted that flash drive. It didn't matter that she was 90% sure who had taken it. 10% of her wasn't sure, and it was that 10% she knew would keep her up all night, worried about who might have access to the virus.
Stephanie stifled another yawn and started the engine, hitting the power locks and putting the car into reverse. She raised her eyes to the rear view mirror and froze, staring at the mirror, stunned.
A flash drive dangled silently from the end of a black, nylon cord.
Alina stood in the darkness, staring out her bedroom window into the night, absently swirling a vodka tonic around in its glass. Raven watched her from his perch, fluffed out and settled in for the night. Michael and Angela had both been waiting for her when she returned. Angela was beside herself and, after venting about terrorists and FBI agents who couldn't stop a bank robbery, she finally took herself off to bed three glasses of wine later. Michael, on the other hand, was strangely quiet all night, content to watch her with his hazel-green eyes.
Alina sighed and raised the glass to her lips. Something was on his mind, but he showed no indications of wanting to mention it. Whatever it was, he appeared willing to let it go unspoken. She wondered if it had to do with Damon and their conversation the other night. Alina sipped her drink, then her hand stilled as a thought occurred to her. Her eyes narrowed and she lowered the glass slowly. Of course! Moon! Blake probably called Michael to tell him about Moon. Michael would immediately assume she had been involved. He knew what she did. He knew she killed men like Moon.
Alina's lips twitched and she raised her glass again. Oh Gunny, if you even knew half the truth your mind would spin, she thought to herself. Shaking her head, she sipped the last of her drink and set the empty glass on the windowsill. It wasn't me this time.
The smile faded from her lips and Viper gazed out into the darkness, feeling hollow somewhere in the vicinity of her gut.
Hawk was gone.
He hadn't said good-bye. He didn't need to. The look in his eyes as she had turned to leave the parking garage was one she knew well. She saw it each time they parted company and went their separate ways. When she reached the stairwell door, Viper had turned her head to glance back. Even now, staring out into the night, she didn't know why she looked back. They never looked back. Ever.
Damon had been getting into the van, one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the door. As she glanced back, he turned his head. Over the length of the parking garage, they had stared at each other silently. Alina's breath caught in her throat now, remembering the plummeting feeling of despair that had crashed over her as she looked at Hawk, one long leg already in the van, getting ready to drive away from her.
Alina spun away from the window and headed for the dresser impatiently. She pulled open one of the drawers, yanking out a pair of running pants. Raven watched as she disappeared into the walk-in closet around the corner, between the bedroom and the master bath. He blinked his shiny black eyes and continued to watch until she emerged a few moments later, dressed in the pants, tank top, black hooded jacket and running shoes. Not wanting to run the risk of rousing Michael, she crossed to the window and threw it open, sliding up the screen and swinging one leg out. Raven yawned and stretched his wings, walking to the end of his perch and watching as Viper disappeared out the window. Blinking, he launched off the perch and followed her out.
Alina landed on the deck softly and vaulted over the banister to land on the lawn, restless energy making her movements quicker than they should have been at two-thirty in the morning. After a quick stretch, she made sure her knife was secured on her ankle, then took off running into the trees. Raven followed, soaring over the tree tops, easily keeping his mistress within sight of his hawk vision.
Viper ran through the woods, leaping over underbrush and fallen logs in stride, her blood pounding in her ears and her heart rate settling into a steady cadence. She ran to clear her mind of the memory of the two men she shot, two more pieces of her soul ripped away. She ran to forget the image of Hawk getting into a van to drive away. She ran to try to get away from the hollow feeling of loneliness eating away at her gut.
But, most of all, Viper ran to try to erase the memory of the slow, sexy wink Damon had given her before she turned and disappeared into the stairwell.