It seemed like John had been driving forever, but logic told Cressida it had been less than an hour since the explosion that must have killed the Turkish soldier. She wanted to think the explosion had nothing to do with her, but she wasn’t naïve enough to believe the comforting lie.
Not anymore.
People didn’t blow up because of mistaken identity. People weren’t murdered in hotel rooms because of academic rivalry. No one could want the information she’d found on underground aqueducts that badly.
John’s theory, that the explosive was planted when the car was parked in the carport of the house near Kurubaş, made sense. It also explained the ease of their escape, even why they were smoked out to begin with.
Every time she thought about the soldier, she had trouble breathing. Was she to blame?
She couldn’t imagine why, or how, or what it had to do with her. Yet deep down she knew it was her fault. She cleared her throat and said, “The explosion—it will be all over the news. It will be labeled a terrorist attack, won’t it?”
“Yes. And that’s what it was.”
“How could it be? I’m so confused.”
“There is something you don’t know about Hejan Duhoki.”
She stiffened. He must have learned something when he called his boss at Raptor. “Something I need to know…and you’re just telling me now?”
“I didn’t say you need to know, just that you don’t know.”
“Goddammit! I have a right to know about Hejan!” She gritted her teeth. “Tell me everything you know.”
“I’m shocked you haven’t guessed.”
“Guessed what? That you’re an asshole keeping secrets?”
“Hejan Duhoki was an integral part of a terrorist network.”
* * *
“No.” Cressida’s voice was firm. She was in full denial, even after everything she’d witnessed, everything she knew to be true.
“Yes,” Ian said, sparing her no sympathy. He was too tired and in too much pain from the burns on his back to treat her with kid gloves. “He’s a known terrorist and was being watched.” Ian had to play this carefully. She still didn’t know who he was, and the Raptor cover could still hold up if he didn’t reveal too much. But how he revealed what he’d held back was going to be tricky.
A glance in her direction showed she’d fixed him with a tight-lipped stare. He faced the dark road in front of him. His shoulder burned. He’d only slept for four of the last forty-eight hours. And his assigned backup on this op was no mere traitor, he’d just deliberately killed a Turkish soldier in a way that would cast suspicion directly on Ian, while the woman at the center of it all wanted answers he couldn’t give.
He’d come to one inescapable conclusion: Zack must have monitored the checkpoint from a distance and had set off the bomb in such a way as to alert Ian—ensuring he and Cressida survived the blast. But to what end?
“What does any of this have to do with me?” Cressida said. “Hejan was a translator, not a”—her voice cut out, and she took in a breath—“terrorist. The university recommended him. He was a nice guy. He helped me when Todd showed up.”
“Turkish authorities believe Hejan did the translation work for you because you were coming here, and he had something that needed delivering.”
“I had something? You mean, that’s why my purse was stolen? My room searched? Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before?”
Ian grimaced. He deserved every bit of her anger. “Because I wasn’t sure you weren’t involved. What did Hejan give you?”
“A map I paid him to translate,” she said with lessening heat. “He also recorded Kurdish and Turkish phrases for me on a digital recorder. He included specialized words and phrases an archaeologist searching for a lost aqueduct would need.”
“A digital recorder. USB?”
“Yes. It had a USB plug.”
“Those are storage drives too.”
“Sure. They’re backup drives, but I didn’t need that, because I didn’t bring my computer.”
“But that doesn’t mean Hejan didn’t save files on it.”
She leaned her head back against the seat with a wince. “I suppose. The recorder only lists audio files on the display. Because I never plugged it into a computer, I have no idea if there were non-audio files. You should have told me this when you first abducted me.”
He smiled at her accusation. “I never abducted you. I took you to a safer place.”
“A safer place—you mean the one with the smoke, or the roadside stop that blew up?”
“Touché. So…it appears one of my associates is playing for the wrong team. The house near Kurubaş was supposed to be safe.”
“The wrong team.” She paused. “You mean Keith has an operative who’s a traitor? We need to call him! I—”
Ian rolled down the window and chucked his cell phone out into the darkness before she could make a move for the phone.
“What is wrong with you? I know Keith. I know his home number—because I used to live there. If there’s anyone I know we can trust, it’s Keith Hatcher.”
Time to lay the lies on thick. He could throw a few truths in for good measure. “First, that phone was compromised. My associate has the number. I should have tossed it right after the explosion—I wasn’t thinking. Second, do you really think Keith Hatcher will listen to you when you tell him one of his employees is a traitor? You, a person who was arrested for grand larceny a few months ago? Your only proof of innocence was the fact that you have friends in high places.
“Do you really think Hatcher will listen to you above a trusted employee who has likely already informed him that you were in on the grand larceny theft with your ex-boyfriend all along? You can bet your ass that he’s already told Hatcher you met up with your supposed ex and a known terrorist in Antalya. Tell me, Cressida, how are you going to convince him when everything points to you?”