Endgame (Last Chance Series)

by Dee Davis

  Cullen pulled the doors open and the four of them walked into the room. Sitting on the far side of the table, his grin rivaling the Cheshire cat's, Harrison was the first person she saw. But even so she could feel Gabriel Roarke, the current between them powerful and compelling. She pivoted slightly and their gazes met and held.

  He was clean-shaven, dressed all in black and leaning casually against the windowsill. But there was nothing casual about this man. Even relaxed, he held himself under tight control, his expression giving away nothing. They stood for what seemed to be an eternity, eyes locked, until Madison grew uncomfortable, and despite her resolve, looked away—straight at the amused eyes of the man sitting next to him.

  Curly brown hair framed a wonderfully craggy face highlighted by a pencil-thin moustache and neatly shaved half beard. He was dressed in a turtleneck sweater, tweed jacket, and corduroy pants. All that was missing was a pipe and a couple of dogs.

  This had to be Nigel Ferris.

  He coughed discreetly and she drew in a deep breath, surveying the rest of the room while she pulled her thoughts in order. Directly across from Gabriel and Nigel, a fourth man sat, holding a cup of coffee, his dark hair spilling around a pale face bisected by a jagged scar. Knife wound, if she had to call it. An old one. He lifted his head, throwing his face into full light, as if daring her to comment, his green-eyed gaze assessing.

  AWOL had evidently decided to return to the fold. She struggled to remember his name. Payton something. His expression was somewhat less forbidding than Gabriel's, but only slightly.

  Wonderful.

  "Morning, Cullen," Gabriel said, pulling Madison's thoughts firmly back to the matter at hand.

  With a brief nod for Jeremy and Kingston, Gabriel's eyes fixed on her again, his lips curled upward in a mocking smile. "Glad you could join us, Miss Harper." His voice was dismissive as if she were a truant schoolchild.

  Anger washed through her and almost unconsciously she straightened her stance. "It's Madison. And I wasn't aware there was a time card to punch." She purposely walked past him to take a seat by Harrison, turning her smile to the group at hand. "But now that everyone's here, shall we begin?"

  Gabriel opened and then shut his mouth, as attention shifted to her. With an inward smile, she started the meeting, determined to maintain the upper hand. "I think first off we need to have introductions."

  "You all know Cullen." She nodded in his direction. "And this is Kingston Sinclair. He heads up Radion Enterprises and serves on the consortium board." Kingston lifted a hand. "And Jeremy Bosner serves as VP for the consortium and owns Activitron Electronics." Both men, along with her father, Cullen, and a handful of others, were card- carrying members of America's industrial elite.

  "We're delighted that all of you could come on such short notice." Cullen took over the meeting effortlessly. Madison sat back with a sigh, happy for the opportunity to simply observe. "You both know Madison." Cullen smiled benevolently in her direction. "And next to her is Harrison Blake. Harrison is an expert in computer forensics."

  The man with the scar studied them both intently, as if memorizing their faces, then stared back down at his coffee cup.

  "That's Gabriel Roarke." Cullen waved a well-manicured hand in Gabriel's direction. "He's heading up the team with Madison." He paused for a moment, studying the two remaining men. "The dapper fellow next to him is Nigel Ferris, and the quiet one with the coffee is Payton Reynolds."

  Madison wondered how many times people introduced Payton by some nonessential identifier. Anything to avoid the scar. It was a natural reaction, a polite one in most cases, but she'd bet money that Payton Reynolds wasn't the kind of man who appreciated deception of any sort.

  "Now that we all know each other, why don't we get down to business." Gabriel Roarke neatly assumed command, sidestepping her completely. Which was no doubt exactly what she deserved for letting her attention wander.

  Still, she wasn't the type to just sit back and do nothing. "Good idea." She forced a smile. "I'll start, shall I? I spent the morning on the phone to Tracy Braxton."

  "From Braxton Labs?" Jeremy asked, obviously impressed.

  Madison nodded. "I asked her to examine all three autopsy reports."

  Kingston frowned. "Jacob didn't have one. So there should only be two."

  "Harrison has found three more deaths that fit into the pattern," Gabriel interjected, looking down at his notes. "Luther Macomb, Frederick Aston, and Alan Stewart all died within the last thirty-six months."

  "People die all the time." Jeremy frowned.

  "Yes, but these fit the pattern," Harrison said. "All three were members of the business consortium, and they were all active in working on the accord. And—" he paused for effect, ever the showman "—all three were apparently quite healthy."

  The room was silent for a moment as the three board members digested the information. Only Jeremy seemed genuinely surprised. But then, Cullen had already known, and Kingston Sinclair was notorious for holding his thoughts close to the vest.

  "So did your friend find anything in the existing autopsies?" This came from Nigel, his lilting accent definitely not American. According to his dossier, he'd started life in rural England. A village in Gloucestershire. His accent, however, belied the fact, the product no doubt of extensive private schooling.

  "Nothing that points to foul play," Madison told him. "She did ask for tox screens on Bingham Smith, though. Hopefully, we'll have those back tomorrow."

  "Weren't they already run?" Payton asked, frowning.

  "Not with the amount of detail Tracy wanted. She's looking for trace elements."

  "Something to explain the heart attack," Gabriel said, getting it in one.

  Madison nodded. "She's also checking to see if there were tissue samples for any of the others. If so, she'll probably request them and run some of her own tests."

  "All of which will take time." Cullen's voice held a trace of frustration.

  "It's a start, Cullen." Gabriel's voice had lost its edge. In fact, it almost sounded conciliatory. Madison bit back her surprise. "And we're making inroads in other places, as well. Nigel had a talk with the M.E. who handled Bingham's case."

  "Nobody mentioned the fact to me." The words were out before she had time to think about them, and she immediately wished them back.

  "There wasn't time." Gabriel's tone was mild, but his eyes spoke volumes, their icy depths reprimanding.

  She opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, forcing a smile. "No problem. You just caught me by surprise."

  Amusement flitted across his face. And Madison dug her fingernails into her palms, hanging on to her control by a thread. Harrison was right, the man knew how to push her buttons. But there was no sense rising to the bait. Instead, she turned her attention to Nigel. "Did the M.E. have anything to add to his report?"

  "Not much." Nigel shrugged. "Only that he was surprised at how healthy Bingham's heart tissue was."

  "He was in excellent shape," Jeremy interjected. "Worked out at least three times a week."

  "Being healthy doesn't necessarily preclude a heart attack." Payton's voice was deep, almost inaudible, but there was an air about him that made a person want to listen anyway. As if, when he deigned to talk, it was because there was truly something important to say.

  "I just meant that..." Jeremy trailed off uncertainly.

  "We know what you meant, Jeremy," Cullen reassured him. "It's what's been bothering us all. But Payton is right. Healthy men die every day from heart attacks."

  "So why the bloody hell are we here?" Nigel summed up everyone's feelings in a sentence.

  "Because I think there's something more," Cullen said simply, as if his word was enough. But then maybe it was. After all, they were all here, their respective agencies jumping when Cullen came calling. That kind of power could be heady. The sort of thing that led to God-complexes.

  Fortunately, Cullen seemed to be immune to that. Not afraid to use his power, but holding o
ff until all other avenues had been exhausted. It was one of the things she loved about him.

  "If there's something there, we'll find it." Gabriel smiled, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes. "We'll just have to keep digging. Nigel also talked to Mrs. Smith."

  "Tiffany?" Cullen snorted, and Kingston laughed. An inside joke, no doubt. "Sorry." He sobered. "It's just that she isn't known for her astute powers of observation."

  "I'm guessing a second wife?" Nigel asked, amusement cresting in his eyes.

  "Fourth," Jeremy offered.

  "Ah." Nigel nodded as if that explained everything. "I did find her a bit incoherent, but I wrote it off as grief."

  Another snort from Cullen, this time skeptical. "The only thing that would make Tiffany Smith cry is if someone took away her credit cards. Did she have anything at all helpful to say?"

  Nigel shook his head. "Only reiterated what we already know. That Bingham was a healthy man."

  "I know he played a crucial part in the negotiations, but why don't you spell out exactly what his role was?" Gabriel frowned, eyeing Cullen.

  "Bingham had worked in China for years. Even when there were economic sanctions, he still dealt with Beijing."

  Payton tipped his head slightly, his attention focused on Cullen, his gaze speculative. Madison wondered if he was familiar at all with the negotiations. According to Gabriel, he'd been in China when the call went out. An interesting coincidence.

  "Bing's contacts were crucial in establishing the foundation that led to our current negotiations. Without him we'd never have gotten a foot in the door."

  "But surely now with things more established, his role was diminished?"

  "On the contrary," Kingston said, "as chairman, he was taking a lead initiative in the talks. In fact, he was representing us at the upcoming summit in place of Robert Barnes."

  "The man killed in the fire." Madison consulted her notes.

  "Correct." Cullen leaned forward, his expression inscrutable. "He also had extensive dealings with the Chinese. They were our primary negotiators. But the others, Stewart, Macomb, Aston and Dashal were also involved. Stewart and Macomb were on the original steering committee. Aston was a close friend and confidant of Bing's. And Dashal was coordinating our efforts with the Department of State. The president's been very interested in our work, and has given us his full support, and at least to a limited degree, governmental resources."

  "Who is serving on the committee now?" Harrison asked, looking up from his laptop. As usual, he was multitasking.

  "The steering committee disbanded when negotiations began in earnest. Kingston has replaced Dashal working with State. And of course, I, as chairman, have stepped into Bing's role, with the aid of others on the negotiating team."

  "We'll want a list of those participating in the negotiations. And anyone else you can think of that's connected to the summit." Gabriel jotted something down on a notepad, his brows drawn together in thought.

  "Maybe I'm the only one here in the dark, but what exactly is the purpose of this accord, Cullen?" Payton's voice again commanded attention.

  "I'm sorry. I should have stated that at the outset. I'm afraid we've all lived with it so long, we take it for granted that everyone knows what we're talking about." He paused to take a sip of his coffee. "Put simply, the accord is an attempt to trade U.S. technological expertise—specifically intellectual capital—for Chinese favored-nation status on certain U.S. technological exports."

  "But with the Chinese propensity for communism, not to mention their record on human rights, why would the U.S. government be interested in an agreement like that?" Harrison stopped typing, his full attention on Cullen.

  "Money, my dear boy. It's as simple as that. Despite the fact that the economy is beginning to recover, changes won't occur overnight and for those of us in technology the battle is even harder. Even with increased spending power, large expenditures and capital equipment will be the last to recover. And with so many companies holding on by a thread..."

  Harrison nodded. "You need an untapped market. And an agreement for favored-nation status would be just that. Not to mention a political coup for a first-term president."

  "Exactly." Cullen smiled at Harrison as if he were a prize pupil. "Unfortunately, your original assessment was correct too. There is a lot of opposition to the accord, both here in the U.S. and abroad."

  "Foreign companies who stand to lose their own contracts if the accord goes through." Gabriel was still studying his notes. "As well as countries who don't want to see the Chinese grow in technological strength."

  "But haven't we been dealing with the Chinese under the table all along?" Madison asked. "You mentioned Bingham. Surely he wasn't the only one?"

  "There were loads of others," Jeremy said. "But nothing on this grand a scale. And certainly nothing as well organized."

  "Don't you worry about how the Chinese will use this technology?" Nigel didn't say it, but his meaning was clear. Although the accord was delineated as nondefense, much of the technology being discussed could easily be used for military purposes.

  "The truth is they're going to get it one way or the other. The black market is booming. The Israelis and Russians are making a killing. Seems foolish for us to bury our heads in the sand, both financially and militarily."

  "That's a pretty hawkish position, surely?" Nigel's question was off the cuff, intended to sound almost flippant, but Madison could tell he was more interested in the answer than he was willing to let on.

  "It's a financial position, Mr. Ferris," Kingston said. "Survival of the fittest."

  "Gentlemen," Cullen interrupted, "we're not here to argue politics. The summit, and any resulting accord, has the full blessing of the current administration, and that, for the moment, is all that's necessary." There was a finality to his words that precluded further argument. "Our job," he gestured to his two colleagues, "is to make certain that the Chinese continue to work with us toward agreement. Your job is to find out if there is in fact a conspiracy to upset the accord. And if so, you are to eliminate that threat. Am I making myself clear?"

  Despite the testosterone levels in the room, everyone nodded. Cullen Pulaski commanded respect. Period.

  "Good." His smile was genuine. "Why don't we turn this over to you now?" He shot a telling look at Madison and then at Gabriel. "I really just wanted Kingston and Jeremy to meet all of you, and to give you the opportunity to meet us. Obviously, we'll want to be kept apprised of your progress and discoveries. And you can always come to us if you have questions." He stood up, and everyone else followed suit.

  "I've tried to think of everything you might need." He gestured to the equipment-filled walls. "But I'm sure I've forgotten something. Don't hesitate to ask. I meant it when I said I'd spare no expense. I'm sure you can understand now how important this accord is to the well-being of our nation. It's the beginning of a new age, and I, for one, am not willing to see some disgruntled splinter group try to take it down."

  It was a rousing political speech, but unfortunately Cullen had the wrong crowd. These men might be patriots, but they weren't the kind to worry overmuch about political correctness. What mattered to them was bringing down the bad guys—whatever the reasons.

  And just for the moment Madison was in total agreement.

  *****

  "YOU REALLY THINK this team of yours is necessary?"

  "I do." Cullen Pulaski steepled his hands on his desk, and met Kingston Sinclair's worried gaze. "If I'm right about this, everything we've spent the last three years working for could fall apart just as we come into the home stretch."

  "But you're basing all of this on a hunch." Jeremy Bosner walked over to the mahogany credenza that served as a bar, and poured himself a glass of juice. Tall to the point of seeming gaunt, he looked more like a befuddled professor than a business tycoon, a fact which he used to his advantage more often than not. "It seems to me that this task force of yours only serves to reinforce the Chinese delegation's conc
erns on the matter."

  Cullen sighed, his gaze encompassing both men. For industrial giants, they could be incredibly shortsighted at times. "If anything, it will assure them that we're serious about protecting our interests and theirs."

  "Maybe. If there's something to protect us from." Kingston fiddled with the earpiece on his glasses, a ploy he often used when playing for time. "It's within the realm of possibility, you know, that Bing actually died from a heart attack. The police certainly seem to believe that."

  "Bing was in perfect health and you know it," Cullen snapped.

  "Look, whether you're right or wrong, Cullen, the point is that we're dealing with a delicate situation here. Bingham's death, whatever the reason, is going to cause problems in negotiations. He had connections that we can't just reproduce at the snap of a finger." Jeremy ran a nervous hand across his graying hair, smoothing it into place. "And I, for one, can't help but worry that even the rumor of it being something other than a tragic accident has the power to squelch the negotiations altogether."

  "That's why I called in Gabriel Roarke. The man's a spook. If anyone can stay under the radar, he can." Cullen waited as the other two men digested the information.

  "What about Madison? She's FBI. That's certain to raise some eyebrows." Jeremy gulped the juice, almost choking, a sure sign he was worried.

  "She's also Cullen's goddaughter, which means her presence here is already accepted." Kingston surprised Cullen with the defense, but he'd take his allies any way he could get them. "That's part of the reason I wanted her on the team."

  "You were in on this?" Jeremy's anger made his face blotchy.

  "I discussed it with Cullen, yes." Kingston shrugged.

  "But you just asked him if it was necessary." Jeremy's expression grew skeptical.

  "I'm still not convinced it is. But Cullen was going to take action with or without us, and so I figured I might as well have some say in the matter."