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Michael followed a tall blond, waiting while she opened the office door. She stood aside and Michael nodded in thanks before stepping into the large, corner office. Two of the four walls were glass overlooking the city and a large modern desk was positioned in front of one of them. A woman with dark hair and a maroon tailored suit rounded the desk, coming towards him with her hand outstretched.
“Special Agent O’Reilly!” she exclaimed, a smile crossing her face. “We met a few weeks ago, didn’t we? I believe it was at the annual Veteran’s dinner?”
Michael smiled easily, grasping her hand.
“That’s entirely possible, Ms. Ricci. Forgive me if I don’t recall. I did quite a few events in a very short period of time. I met so many associates of associates I lost track.”
Tina Ricci laughed and waved him toward a cozy sitting area off to the side.
“I know the feeling well,” she said, moving to seat herself in an overstuffed armchair. “I got the impression you were saturated with new faces that night. If you’re not here to follow-up on a chance acquaintance, what can I do for you?”
Michael seated himself in the chair opposite her.
“I’m hoping you can help me with something I’m working on. I’ve been told you’re the woman to see.”
One perfectly manicured eyebrow arched and a confident smile crossed her lips.
“Well, that depends on what you need,” she said lightly. “The Secret Service is always welcome to any assistance it’s within my power to give.”
“My office has been asked to investigate the security of a few senators who were targeted by malicious and, at least in one instance, threatening correspondence. It seems some of the security measures in place are failing, causing potentially dangerous lapses,” Michael explained. “Various items are making it through the security and into the hands of senators without being scanned and vetted.”
“How alarming!” Tina exclaimed, her eyes widening. “What kinds of items?”
“Letters, photos, and in one isolated incident, an actual pipe bomb.”
“Good Lord!”
“Exactly. So you see, it’s imperative I narrow down the source of the vulnerability and correct it as soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course. But I’m somewhat at a loss to see how I can be of help. I’m hardly in the security business.”
Michael chuckled.
“I know,” he said. “However, one of the targets was a client of yours last year. His campaign hired your firm. I was hoping you might be able to give some insight.”
“I can certainly try,” she said slowly. “Although I don’t work personally with every client anymore. There are just too many. Who was it?”
“Robert Carmichael.”
A flinch crossed the woman’s face and Michael felt a twinge of satisfaction. His gut instinct had been right.
“Senator Carmichael?” she repeated. “Yes, I did work on that personally. He’s such an influential figure on the Hill that it warranted my personal attention. What did you want to know?”
“Actually, it’s not about him,” Michael said smoothly. “It’s about you.”
Both eyebrows soared into her forehead and she gave him a politely blank look.
“Me?”
“Yes. In particular, why your firm didn’t charge him for three months of intensive services.”
The blank look turned to one of outrage instantly.
“How do you know that?” she demanded, her long red nails gripping the arms of her chair. “Our client records are strictly confidential!”
“I’m sure they are,” Michael said agreeably. “I didn’t look at them. I looked at his, and not one payment has ever been made to this firm, even though you’ve provided services multiple times. In addition, and this is really what I found fascinating, Senator Carmichael’s campaign records actually show several donations originating from you personally around the same time your firm did work for him.”
Tina stared at him, her lips pinched together unpleasantly.
“It’s perfectly legal and acceptable for me to support political candidates,” she said after a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“That’s true,” he conceded, his eyes watching her closely. “It doesn’t explain why your firm didn’t charge him for services rendered.”
She waved a hand impatiently.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she announced, a faint tremor marring the perfect tone of her voice. “All our clients are billed. His office probably just hasn’t paid it yet. Unfortunately, it does happen. Now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I’ll be sure to look into it.”
“Oh, I already have. Not only has Senator Carmichael not paid anything to your firm, but when I added up your campaign donations, he seems to have collected over forty-eight thousand dollars from you in the past year alone. Now, I know I’m just a Marine-turned-Secret-Service, but that does seem a little excessive, doesn’t it?”
“Look, I don’t know who you think you are,” Tina began, but he ruthlessly cut her off.
“Before you get yourself all bent out of shape and say something you’ll regret, why don’t you take a moment to think. I’m not trying to embarrass you or make things worse, but I think you’re being blackmailed, Ms. Ricci. I’d like to help you.”
Damon stepped into the living room and looked around. Angela was in her usual spot at the dining room table, but there was no sign of Alina.
“Where’s Alina?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
Angela looked up.
“Last I saw, she was in the den,” she said, nodding down the hallway. “Tread carefully. She’s not in a good mood.”
Damon glanced at her, his lips twitching.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he wondered. “I’ll take my chances.”
Angela shrugged and went back to her laptop.
“Good luck.”
Damon started down the hallway. The door at the end opened as he did and Alina emerged from the den, a frown on her lips. When she saw him, her face lightened somewhat.
“I’m just going to make some coffee,” she said, heading towards him. “Do you want some?”
“I’m fine.” He turned to follow her back to the kitchen. “How’s it going here?”
Alina shrugged and pulled a clean mug from the cabinet, setting it under the spout of her coffee machine.
“Nothing too exciting going on,” she said, hitting the button and turning to face him. “Trent tried to call Angie a little while ago. I stopped her from answering. Other than that, all’s quiet on the Western Front.”
“I still don’t see why I couldn’t answer,” Angela called from the dining room. “It’s not like he can do anything through the phone.”
Alina closed her eyes briefly in exasperation and Damon grinned sympathetically.
“It’s not a matter of him doing something to you over the phone,” he said, turning to look at Angela from the kitchen. “It’s a question of not acknowledging him.”
“He’s a work associate,” she said, getting up and coming over to stand on the other side of bar. “I can hardly not acknowledge him! Besides, we don’t even know for sure that he’s dangerous.”
“Yes we do!”
Damon and Alina spoke in unison and Angela blinked, looking from one to the other.
“We do?”
Alina sighed.
“Yes, we do,” she said tiredly, walking over to the bar while her coffee brewed into the mug behind her. She pulled out her phone and opened a photo, turning it for Angela to see. “He’s the one Raven attacked in the woods the night before John’s funeral.”
Angela stared at the photo taken from Viper’s NVGs and her mouth dropped open.
“Why am I just hearing this now?!” she exclaimed, looking up.
“Because John’s funeral happened,” Alina muttered, taking the phone back. “Forgive me if someone shooting up the church pushed Trent to the back of my mind.”
“Why was he here?” Angela asked after a minute, her brows drawn together in a frown. “I don’t get it. How did he even know where I was?”
“He followed you,” Alina said, turning to go get her coffee mug from the coffee maker.
“Why?”
Damon glanced at Alina, his eyes hooded, waiting to see what she would say. Anything was too much as far as he was concerned, but Angela was waiting for some kind of answer.
“I don’t know,” Alina lied. “When I find out, I’ll be sure to pass it along.”
Angela stared at her for a beat.
“I doubt that,” she muttered. “You don’t tell me anything anymore. Not that you ever told me much to begin with since you came back from Timbuktu, or wherever you were for ten years.”
“What difference would it make?” asked Damon logically. “You’re here, where you have a reasonable chance of being protected. How does knowing why someone is targeting you change anything? You’re still being targeted, and you’re still better off here than anywhere else.”
Angela glared at him.
“That is such a male thing to say!” she exclaimed. “I’m just supposed to sit back and not ask questions, is that it?”
Damon looked startled.
“That’s not what I meant,” he protested. “I’m just pointing out how not knowing the answers doesn’t affect you one way or the other right now.”
Angela looked at Alina, sipping her coffee with an unholy look of amusement on her face.
“Are you listening to this?” she demanded.
Alina nodded.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Do you agree with him?”
“It doesn’t matter if I agree or not, I’m not the one that said it,” she said with a grin. “I know better.”
“Damn straight you do,” Angela muttered, turning and going back to her laptop. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, though! First the candles and strawberries, now Trent. You’re keeping me in the dark, Lina, and you know I don’t like that!”
“Candles and strawberries?” Damon asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s nothing you need to know about,” said Alina, carrying her coffee out of the kitchen and down the hall. “Come into the den. I want to show you something.”
Damon grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and followed her, unscrewing the cap as he went.
“Is it going to make me happy or irritate me?” he asked, stepping into the den behind her. “I’m getting tired of bad news.”
“Did you get some while you were out?” Alina asked, glancing at him.
Damon shrugged.
“It wasn’t good news.”
“Are you going to share?”
“Not yet.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to object. “When I know what it means, I’ll share. It might not be anything.”
Alina glowered at him briefly.
“That sounds suspiciously like you’re trying to keep me out of the loop. Didn’t we just have a rather heated conversation about this the other night?”
Damon grinned.
“Was it heated?” he asked, a devilish twinkle in his bright blue eyes. “I think I would have remembered that. The last heat I remember was in Singapore.”
“Not that kind of heat,” she muttered, a reluctant grin pulling at her lips. “All anyone thinks about around here is sex. Don’t you start, too.”
“Too?” Damon latched onto that word. “Who else is thinking about it?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Alina opened her laptop and motioned him over. “I found out what Jordan Murphy was doing in Madrid. Or at least, what the person claiming to be Jordan Murphy was doing.”
Damon walked over to look over her shoulder.
“Who’s that?” he asked, looking at the photo on the screen.
“That is Kyle March before he had reconstructive surgery in Madrid.”
Damon looked at her sharply and sucked in his breath.
“How the hell did Kyle get Jordan Murphy’s name?” he demanded. “The two weren’t in the same unit. Hell, they weren’t even in the same country at the same time!”
“I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon,” Alina said, sitting back in her chair and spinning to look at him. “The short answer is I don’t know. There has to be a connection between Kyle and Jordan somewhere, but I don’t know where. You’re right. Their military careers never crossed and, as far as I can tell, there was no connection outside the military either. Kyle was born and bred in Rhode Island, and Jordan came from Kansas. There’s nothing to connect the two.”
“And yet something obviously did,” Damon murmured thoughtfully. “Kyle must have known Jordan was dead when he was in Madrid. He wouldn’t have taken the risk otherwise.”
Alina nodded.
“The more I find out, the more questions I have,” she said. “Why did he use the alias of a real person?”
“Your contact found this?” Damon asked, glancing at the photo on the screen. “How?”
“She accessed the medical warehouse and found the records. They’re scheduled for destruction.”
“Anything from her since?”
“No. She’s on her way back to Cairo. I told her to get out before anyone realized she was there.”
Damon nodded.
“That’s the best course. I do question how she found the information so quickly.”
Alina laughed.
“That’s why I use her. She’s amazing. Sometimes I think she has more contacts than Charlie.”
Damon drank some water and looked down at her.
“Have you heard from Charlie?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“No.”
“What the hell is he up to?”
Alina closed the laptop and stood up.
“I don’t know, but he better be finding that leak for me,” she muttered. “Are you planning on staying here for a while?”
Damon raised an eyebrow.
“I can. Why?”
“I found Trent’s hotel. I’m going to pay it a visit. The sooner we remove that threat, the better for all concerned.”
Damon grinned.
“Getting tired of the full house already?”
“You have no idea.”
Damon grabbed her wrist as she passed him.
“Be careful,” he said simply when she glanced at him questioningly. “If he’s the one who switched the antidote, he’s got more to lose than just his job.”
Viper smiled coldly.
“Oh, I know,” she said softly, “and I intend to see that he loses it.”