14

Megan could hardly believe Remy had found it—the answer they’d been looking for all along. She gripped the phone so hard it seemed like it would shatter in her hand at any moment.

Even Adrian looked like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

Remy continued, “What I can tell you right now was that it was a black ops mission, and the signature on the authorization page is the general who died at that think tank bombing a couple of days ago.” She paused. “It’s connected, right?”

“Yes,” Adrian told her. “It wasn’t a bombing, despite the information that was released. It was a sonic weapon.”

“I figured as much from the damage,” Remy said. “It doesn’t even look close to the kind of destruction an explosion would do.”

He said, “Anyone else on there we should know about?”

Megan’s stomach rolled over for the millionth time in the past few days. Remy said, “If we’re looking at possible targets for who might be next, I have a couple of names as suggestions that I’ll send over to Megan’s phone. I’ll list them in order of probability, as well as last known location.”

“If you do that,” Adrian said, “then won’t the blackmailer know precisely what we know?”

“Not the way I send emails, he won’t.”

“This guy has breached security over and over throughout this whole thing.”

“Sure. But now I’m in on it,” Remy said.

Megan chuckled.

Remy said, “One of these days I’m going to run across something I can’t crack, or someone who is better than me. When that happens I’ll be sure to go back to bio-medical research.”

Megan winced. “I’m not sure I’m okay with that idea.” If the woman could hack anything, including genetics, it could lead to all kinds of breakthroughs, but that also meant she’d have a deadly virus or some brand new potential nerve agent on her hands. The federal agent in Megan wouldn’t settle for that as a future possibility.

Remy chuckled. “Then pray it never happens.”

Apparently done with their conversation, Adrian said, “So you’ll send us those names over email?”

“Already done. Should be on your phone now, Megan.”

She shifted the screen to check for notifications. “Yep, it came through.”

“Alrighty. Stay safe.”

The line went dead.

Adrian said, “I’m not sure I want to know how you met her.”

Megan swiped through to the email. “Suffice it to say, she’s saved my life more than once.”

“Good.”

Before she started reading, she said, “I didn’t escape from El Cuervo’s guys. I was rescued. By the people Remy works with. Or for.”

She’d never understood that distinction. Remy was part of a team the same way Megan was part of Double Down. Though, their team was comprised of an entirely different crop of people.

“Rescued?”

Megan nodded. “Somehow Steve knows them, and I knew him from an operation back in the day. When he heard I was missing, he made a call. It’s why I chose Double Down.” She paused. “Remy’s team is so far under the radar, they don’t even want anyone knowing they were there. Let alone what they were doing. So I made up the story of my escape.”

“Wow.” He shook his head. “That certainly answers a few questions.”

“Concerned about the inconsistencies in my story?” She cocked her head to the side. “Sorry I’m not a better liar.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary to be a good liar.”

“It was when I was undercover.” She shrugged, though it hurt to brush it off. “But considering how that turned out, maybe I wasn’t as good at it as I thought.”

Adrian nodded, his eyes distant like he was trying to solve a complex equation in his head. “Or this plan by the blackmailer has been in play for years.” He shook his head. “There’s a horrific thought.”

“So my whole life has been nothing but someone else pulling strings? Making me do what he wants me to do, go where he wants me to go. For what?” she asked. “So he can get revenge for some clandestine operation my father was involved in? I was kidnapped two years ago. This can’t have been going on that long.”

“Revenge is a powerful motivator.”

She certainly knew that from personal experience. He didn’t need to tell her. If Megan ever found herself in the same room as El Cuervo again, she could prove exactly how powerful revenge was.

But that didn’t mean Zimmerman and the Venezuelan had anything more to do with the blackmailer than the fact that Zimmerman’s family had been targeted.

“I don’t like that look on your face.”

She folded her arms, then realized that just made her look defensive. Megan sighed and lowered them. What was the point in responding? She’d already given herself away.

The question was, what would Adrian do about it?

While he decided, Megan opened the email. “Two men are at the top of the list of Remy’s potential targets. A captain and a rear admiral. Both navy. They were listed in the planning stages of the operation. Remy said they’re both booked at the same hotel for this coming weekend.”

“It’s Friday morning,” Adrian said. “You mean tonight?”

It was Friday already? Megan shook her head. The last few days had thrown her for a loop. “Yes.”

Adrian made a face. “No, but yes?”

“No. Yes.” She shook her head again. “Yes, tonight.”

“I think you need a nap on the way there.”

Megan blew out a breath. He wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t about to admit to weakness. She wanted to trust Adrian. In a way, she already did. No question. And yet, at the back of her mind this thing just…niggled at her. Maybe that wasn’t even the right word. Still, it was there. A tiny voice questioning whether everything was as she perceived it to be.

The same voice that had been there right before she and Will were captured. One she should have listened to.

If she had, would he still be alive?

If Will lived through that kidnapping the way she had, he’d be with her. Working to bring down Zimmerman.

But that meant she wouldn’t be with Adrian.

Megan blew out a breath and ran her hands through her hair. She probably looked like she’d been dragged through a bush by her feet. Been there. Not something she wanted to repeat, but life was life.

She said, “What about Will?”

Adrian’s look softened. “What about him?”

“Were we taken because we were on some list of the blackmailer’s?” she asked, aloud. Not necessarily expecting him to be able to answer. “Or because our FBI cover had been blown?”

Adrian got on his phone. “I’ll ask this Remy person.”

Of course he had her number now. He’d probably memorized it off Megan’s phone screen. Like it was that easy to contact Remy.

She said, “Maybe it had nothing to do with our trying to take down El Cuervo and everything to do with putting us in the path of this blackmailer. And then Will is killed—” She swallowed, but pulled herself together quick enough to say, “And I get…rescued. Which ruins their plans.” She thought for a second. “Now it seems like I have a part in what’s happening, all these years later. I don’t get it.”

In another scenario, would the blackmailer have forced her to get the sonic weapon from Emma and take it on a rampage? She could have been swallowed up by this, even more than she already was.

“Having a small part is a good thing, Meg.” His eyes were soft still. She liked that look on him.

But a good thing? Maybe. She didn’t like being the focus of some unknown entity playing God with all of their lives. Zimmerman could kill those two men—and more—before this was done.

She looked at the screen of her phone and kept reading.

“Adrian.”

He glanced up from his phone, a frown still on his face. “What?”

“This conference in Denver.”

He shifted to see what she was talking about.

“The place where these two men are booked, that Zimmerman supposedly wants to hit.” She looked up. “It’s where my mom is going.”

Adrian braced, and asked the question, “Same place those two Navy guys are going to be?” She nodded. He said, “Then let’s go,” and waved toward the SUV.

They headed that direction, and he detoured for a second to check in with Hank and fill him in. When he got to the vehicle, he saw Megan in the front seat. He climbed in the passenger side.

“My turn to drive,” she said, turning on the engine.

“Fine by me.” His heart was still racing from hearing those shots ring out. That split second where he didn’t know who was alive—and who was dead. Adrian had never liked those moments.

The FBI was all about regulation, procedure. Order. Then there were those times when it was pure chaos for a few minutes. The times that defined the rest of what they did and impacted the agents the most.

He tried to push away the adrenaline, even as it retreated. Get rid of the feelings of being flustered and out of control from his system as quickly as possible.

Get back to work.

The vehicle’s GPS directed Megan to the airport. Did Double Down have a plane waiting? They’d done that before. The FBI could probably get them on a flight to Denver tonight.

Megan’s phone buzzed in the cup holder. “Can you see who that is?”

“Sure.” She gave him her passcode, and he unlocked her phone. “Text from Mint. He hasn’t seen Steve.” The phone buzzed again. “Bradley hasn’t seen him either.”

Megan pressed her lips together, then shifted them back and forth.

Adrian wanted to ask why she was trying to get ahold of her boss. He backed up to her messages and looked for the thread with Steve. She hadn’t contacted him after she discovered Zimmerman’s likely target. She’d done it before—after they’d chased the shooter.

Was the shooter Steve?

The implications of that set his brain to spinning. He reached for his own phone to inform Hank, then hesitated. What if it wasn’t Steve who’d been the shooter? Megan might have just been trying to contact her boss so she could talk to him about who it had been.

Not Adrian.

No, she’d reached out to her boss.

The implications of that stung more than he liked. Hurt feelings were the last thing he needed right now, and weren’t going to help them bring down Zimmerman before it cost innocent lives.

He needed to get over himself and focus on the work. Especially now he knew his feelings for Megan ran deeper than they should.

She tapped the wheel with her finger. “You think Zimmerman’s going to use that sonic weapon on the whole building where the conference is? Or will he kill the two Navy officers some other way.”

She was worried about her mother. Adrian set a hand on her shoulder for a second and gave her a short squeeze. “Hank is going to call the Denver FBI office. They’ll get agents to the convention center to secure the place and look for Zimmerman. Between them and local police, they’ll make sure people are safe.” He paused, wanting to tell her there was nothing to worry about. That wasn’t true, was it? “Zimmerman’s picture will be everywhere. They can evacuate and do everything they can to keep everyone safe. They’ll lock down those two guys.”

Megan nodded. She knew the FBI was good at what it did. That was why so many terrorist attacks were thwarted. She had to trust.

He said, “The fact we know who we’re looking for and where he’s going puts us one step ahead of him.”

“Unless he already set it off.”

“Your mom is on her way there, right?”

She shot him a look. “Don’t remind me.”

“What I’m saying is that she didn’t arrive yet, right?”

“Right.”

Adrian nodded. “Then maybe Zimmerman is waiting until the right time. If we can redirect everyone before they get there and find those two guys, lock it down before the conference even kicks off tonight, then Zimmerman has no reason to set off that sonic weapon. Right?”

“Oh.”

“So we’re ahead of his game.”

“That is right.” She nodded. “Thanks.”

“I’m not trying to get you to feel better. False hope isn’t hope. But I’m trusting you’ll see that we’re on this, and we are ahead of Zimmerman. There’s little reason why we can’t stop this from happening.”

“That’s true.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. “And hopefully while we get Zimmerman, Remy can use a process of elimination to figure out who the blackmailer is.”

“You think it’s El Cuervo?”

She shook her head. “No. But I think he might know who it is.”

“Because the blackmailer had that shooter protect him.”

“That doesn’t necessarily indicate it’s two different people. The reason why I don’t think it’s El Cuervo is because…” She swallowed.

“We don’t have to talk about this, if you don’t want.”

“It’s okay.” She blew out a breath. “I met him, though it was only a few minutes. He has people to do his dirty work. But I know him. I know his type. And that man is not in anything for revenge, only money.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s cold. Calculated. That’s probably a cliché, but it’s also true. He didn’t get where he is in that cartel by being nice. He wears his money. Italian suit. Silk shirt. Gold watch, gold chain around his neck. Like he’s trying to compensate for the scars on the side of his face by dressing as flashy as possible.”

“Scars?”

“They look like burns. I don’t know how far down below his collar they go, but the edge of one touches the bottom of his left ear.”

Adrian said, “I don’t know if the FBI knows that.” Was it significant? He could pray it was, but that wouldn’t make it so. What he needed to pray was that this might be a significant lead—and that Remy would find the connection. That she would uncover the blackmailer.

“They are minimal,” Megan said. “Unless they’re all under his shirt.”

“It isn’t on any of the photos of him that we have. Maybe Remy can look into his past and figure out where he got them.” If those scars, and the life he’d led, caused El Cuervo to evolve into a calculated power and money hungry killer, it might be helpful to know the details. It could lead to a weakness they’d be able to exploit in order to find him.

Megan shifted in her seat. “Whoa.”

“What is—”

Metal screeched against metal, and the SUV jerked forward. She hit the gas, and the engine revved as they pulled away. Adrian glanced out the back window. “Blue truck.”

“I see it.” She swerved between lanes, but it kept right on them. “Stay on the freeway, or get off?”

“Stay on.” There was nothing around them. And who knew when the next exit was?

The truck came at them again.

Bumped them again.

A compact car in front of them braked. Megan gripped the wheel two-handed. The truck clipped their back left corner. She steered hard to the right to avoid the compact in front, and they spun out.

Over the rumble strip. Onto the dry brush at the side of the freeway.

Adrian’s head whipped around, and he struggled to inhale against the inertia of spinning. Megan cried out, probably banged her arm on the door. But there was nothing he could do.

The SUV went down a shallow embankment and hit the berm on the other side. The airbags deployed.

Adrian shook off the impact and tried to get his bearings. He glanced over at Megan, slumped in her seat.

Lights flashed behind them. Headlights.

He reached for his gun.

They were coming.