No Strings Attached

by Julie Moffett

  “No, it’s not.” I wanted to word this carefully. “I need your help. It’s a long story.”

  “Give me the condensed version.”

  I did, providing the necessary details, but leaving out any classified information.

  He listened without saying a word but when I was done he whistled. “Wow, Keys, you sure know how to find trouble, don’t you?”

  “Other way around. Little black cloud. It finds me no matter how hard I hide.”

  He laughed and I was beyond thankful he hadn’t hung up on me. Yet.

  “So, what do you need?” he asked.

  There was no easing into this. It would be better to be up-front, honest and swift. “I need you to check out a house in DC without attracting attention. Slash is still unconscious, so he can’t do it. I think this leader of the Red Guest, Jiang Shi, might have taken my brother there, perhaps in an effort to conduct some kind of exchange. I need confirmation of my brother’s presence, if possible, as well as intelligence on how many people are in the house. I know you’ve got the special equipment to do that.”

  “I do. You’re sure you can’t go to the authorities with this?”

  “I’m sure. The NSA has a mole, the FBI has a leak and the Red Guest isn’t playing by our rules. My brother’s life is at stake here.” I closed my eyes. It made me sick just thinking about it.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I opened my eyes. “That’s it? Just okay? No more discussion necessary?”

  “Your request is enough for me.”

  “I’ll be honest with you, Hands. I’m feeling conflicted even asking you to do this. I don’t want anything to jeopardize your career. But my back is against the wall. This is my brother.”

  “Shut up already. Just give me the damn address of the house.”

  Gratitude swept through me as I rattled it off.

  “You got a picture of this brother of yours?”

  I searched my mind for options. I didn’t have my own phone or laptop. Where could I get a picture of him?

  I snapped my fingers. “The Washington Post website. Look under the staff bios. He should be listed there with a photo.”

  “Roger that. Give me an hour. Lucky for you, I’ve got the next two days off. By the way, I have a permit to carry concealed, so I’m not going in empty-handed.”

  “Jeez. You’re just looking through some windows, okay?”

  “Okay. And these guys are just playing house with your brother. Just so we’re clear.”

  I wavered between doubt and gratitude. I was asking a lot of him. Too much, but he still came through for me. “Thank you, Hands. I’m sure Slash would thank you, too, if he could.”

  “That guy sure has his hands full with you.” He chuckled and then paused. “Lucky him. Can I call you back on this phone, Keys?”

  It was risky to use the phone more than once, but we were out of burner phones and I was out of time and options. “Yes.”

  “Good. Over and out.”

  He hung up and I sat on the bed, closing my eyes and pressing the phone to my forehead. I was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. We desperately needed a break, something to go our way.

  “Lexi?” Elvis spoke. There was a strange catch in his voice.

  “What, Elvis? I swear I can’t take one more piece of bad news.” I stood and turned, tossing the phone on the bed.

  Slash was sitting up on the bed, looking at me.

  “Cara?” he asked in a soft voice. “What’s going on?”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Slash!” I nearly knocked him over in a hug. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”

  He put an arm around me, steadied himself and blinked a couple of times. “Water,” he said.

  I went to the shopping bag and pulled out a bottle of water. I unscrewed the top for him. He took the bottle, gulping the water. I sat next to him on the bed, my hand on his thigh.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  He lifted the bottle from his mouth and massaged his temples. “I’ve got a wicked headache. I could use a couple of ibuprofen and a strong cup of coffee.”

  “Coming right up.” Elvis stood and went to get them.

  “What happened?” Slash asked me. He looked around the room. “We’re in the hotel room. How did we get back here? My memory is a little fuzzy.”

  I gave him a quick rundown from the moment he’d been shot with the dart to my conversation with Hands.

  He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “You evaded the FBI? In a car?”

  “Well, I think it was the FBI. It could have been the Chinese or the NSA. I didn’t stop to ask. There was also a police car chasing us, too.”

  He opened his mouth to say something and then just rubbed the back of his neck instead. “How long have I been out?”

  I glanced at the clock. “Just over eleven hours.”

  “That long? Damn. The code?”

  “I finished it. Elvis is adding the safety mechanisms and then it’s done.”

  “You...finished it?”

  I kept my eyes on his and nodded. “Yes.”

  Slash glanced between Elvis and me, but didn’t say anything. Elvis handed him the ibuprofen. Slash swallowed them with another slug of water. He stood, swayed a bit. I stood and put a hand under his elbow to steady him.

  “I think you should take it easy.”

  “No time for that.” He took a sip of the coffee Elvis handed him. “When is Hands doing his reconnaissance?”

  “Right now. Hopefully, he’ll be able to let us know if Rock is there. I’ve got to call Beau soon.”

  “Can you hold off on that for a bit? I need a shower, more coffee and fuel before I can think clearly. What do we have to eat?”

  “Our menu consists of some dry bagels, peanut butter, a couple of power bars and an apple. I haven’t been shopping since you’ve been out. I can go get something fresh.”

  “No. That’ll do. Give me fifteen.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m good.” He finished off the water in his bottle. On the way to the bathroom, he bent over the plastic shopping bag and snagged another bottle. “Carry on.”

  The shower turned on. I began pacing as Elvis worked to finish adding the safety mechanisms. After several minutes, he stood and stretched.

  “Okay. It’s done. Heck of a job, Lexi. Seriously. I never thought I’d say it, but you and Slash think alike. I couldn’t tell where his code ended and yours began. True sorcery. It’s going to make a heck of a boom.”

  I swallowed hard. “That’s the idea.”

  “I guess it is.”

  My laptop beeped. I looked at Elvis. “What was that?”

  Elvis sat back down, tapped on the keys. “It’s a message from Xavier.”

  “What does it say?”

  He read for a moment. “It seems like the NSA and FBI are funneling messages to you and Slash via Xavier. I presume they correctly deduced that since I’m with you, Xavier would know how to reach me.”

  Slash exited the bathroom in jeans and a T-shirt. He was barefoot. His hair was wet, his eyes clear and more alert. He rubbed his hair with the towel, looking a lot better than he had going into the bathroom.

  “What’s going on?” he asked us, tossing the towel in a corner.

  “Xavier just sent a message,” I said.

  Elvis peered at the screen, reading. “Sam Nelson has just been arrested by OSI. Xavier just passed me the OSI report.”

  Slash leaned over his shoulder, reviewing the message, a frown on his face. “Damn it, Sam,” he murmured.

  Elvis tapped the keyboard. “Apparently they found an illegal offshore account under the name of his eldest son who is twenty-two. The son had no kn
owledge of it, but the OSI took the kid in for questioning anyway. Shortly thereafter Sam confessed.”

  “He was framed,” Slash insisted. “He had to be. Just like Charlie.”

  I’d already scanned to the end of the report. I put a hand on Slash’s arm. “He confessed, admitted he’d gotten himself into debt—one hundred and ninety thousand dollars’ worth. He was facing immediate bankruptcy and his wife was threatening to leave him. He says he didn’t know anyone would get hurt. I don’t know what to say, Slash, except sometimes desperate people make bad choices out of fear and despair. Really, really bad choices.”

  Slash silently read to the end of the document and then stood, walking over to the window, pushing aside the drape and staring outside. Elvis and I remained quiet. I knew he was hurting, but I didn’t have any way to ease the betrayal.

  After a moment, he let the drape fall back into place and turned to face us. His expression was normal except for a slight tick of his jaw. “Did he finger the Red Guest as the source of the requested hack? I didn’t see it there.”

  Elvis scrolled through the message and report again. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say. They want you and Lexi to call or come in. That’s all.”

  “We’re not doing that,” I said resolutely.

  “Agreed.” Slash nodded. “Not yet. We’ve got other more pressing matters to attend to.”

  For the next hour or so, Slash ate and drank several more bottles of water while we updated him on everything that had happened while he was out. He was particularly interested in how we traced Jiang Shi to the house on Upton Street via his dWatch and where I believed Rock might be held, so we spent significant time examining the layout and location of the house via Google Maps. We were examining the records on the house when my burner phone rang. It was such a startling sound, we all jerked our heads toward it.

  I picked up the phone, punching the button to answer and putting it on speaker so everyone could hear.

  “Lexi?”

  “Hi, Hands. I’m here. What’s up?”

  “I have a visual on your brother at the house. He’s sitting on a couch in what looks like a family room in plain view from a sliding glass door at the back of the house.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Oh, that’s great, Hands.”

  “The house is fairly secluded with trees and a high wooden fence, so they don’t seem too concerned about discovery and didn’t even bother to pull the drapes.”

  “They have no idea we even know about it,” I said.

  “Well, I counted three men and a woman—all of Asian descent. The woman has long dark hair and seems glued to a cell phone.”

  “Feng Mei,” I murmured.

  Slash sat down on the bed next to me. “Hands, this is Slash. What can you tell us about her brother’s condition?”

  “Hey, Slash.” Hands’s voice perked up. “About time you got up from your nap. You good, man?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Well, from what I can see, his condition is normal.” There was a beep in the background and the sound of a faint siren. He was calling from his car. “He’s tied up, though. Someone had to feed him. In terms of layout, there are a couple of outdoor security cameras, so it’s likely they have an active security system. Good news is I didn’t see any guards strolling the grounds. No overt evidence of weapons on the inside either, but I’d bet you a pricey bridge in London they’re packing. Not a big party, but big enough. What’s the plan?”

  “You’ve done enough, Hands,” I said. “Thank you so much. I don’t want you involved any more in this mess.”

  There was silence and then a squeal of tires. “Don’t piss me off, Keys. What’s the plan?”

  “You sure?”

  “Keep talking like that and you and I are going to have serious words.”

  “Fine.” I kept my eyes on Slash’s when I spoke. “I’ve got an idea. It requires the involvement of my brother Beau and...all of us. It’s risky, but it might work.”

  Slash leaned forward and took my hand. “Okay, cara. Let’s hear it.”

  Taking a deep breath, I told them.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The plan went into effect at dark. Since I wasn’t on a regular sleeping and eating schedule anyway, time had somehow ceased to be relevant. Now it was just a matter of hours. Everyone seemed calm except for me. It was my plan, but I’d second-guessed myself at least twelve times before I talked myself into staying the course.

  We had carefully reviewed the blueprints that Elvis had obtained of the house. Although blueprints of residences are typically impossible to locate, this house had been recently remodeled, so Elvis was able to find and hack the contractor’s server in order to locate useful spec sheets providing us with a decent layout of the inside of the house. Hands had contacted Beau and brought him up to speed. Slash had made a few minor modifications, but essentially it was my mission. They had faith in me, so I needed to act like I had some in me, too.

  Now it was game time. Elvis would stay behind to do his part. While Slash pulled on his jacket, I slid my laptop bag and purse over my shoulder. I turned and gave Elvis a big hug.

  “Thanks, bud. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Yes, you could have.” He hugged me back. “But I was happy to help.”

  When I stepped back from the hug, Elvis held out a hand to Slash. “Before you go, I want to thank you. You took that shot for me. It’s the second time you’ve done that. You keep saving my life. Thanks. I’m not sure why you do it, but I want you to know I appreciate it. I owe you big.”

  I saw the surprise flash in Slash’s eyes. After a moment, he took Elvis’s hand and shook it. “You’re wrong, Elvis. You don’t owe me. That’s just what friends do, right?”

  “Well, only damn good friends,” Elvis said, but smiled. “But, yeah, you’re right. Glad I got you on my side...friend.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as Slash and I left the hotel. I made Slash wait at a spot nearby while I hoofed it the rest of the way to the house where I’d left Elvis’s car. Slash wasn’t happy about me going it alone, but he needed to preserve his strength for the mission.

  Thankfully, Elvis’s car was still at the curb under the tarp. I pulled off the tarp and got in the car. Remembering what Slash had told me, I took countersurveillance measures so when I picked him up, I was reasonably confident that we weren’t being followed. Slash insisted on driving. We headed to our predetermined rendezvous spot keeping close to residential areas. When we got near, he parked the car along a neighborhood street and we hoofed it another three blocks before approaching our meeting spot in an empty parking lot near an urban elementary school playground.

  Slash had me wait out of sight a block away while he circled the area twice to make doubly sure we hadn’t been followed before coming back to get me.

  “The van is already there with two occupants,” he said. “I didn’t see anyone else so I think we’re in the clear.”

  “Are you sure you’re up for this, Slash?” He seemed steady on his feet, but being out for eleven hours straight because of heavy narcotics had to leave residual side effects on even the most rugged and determined of men. Whatever they were, he wasn’t showing them. He seemed solid and alert, but I knew better.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “If I’m honest, horribly nervous. Here we go. Again.”

  “You’ve got this, cara.” He kissed me on the top of the head. “Let’s go.”

  As we approached the van, the passenger side door opened slowly and a hand extended waving us over. Slash took the lead, approaching the van, his hand beneath his jacket. When we got close, Hands stepped out of the van and I released a breath of relief. My brother Beau got out of the driver’s side and strode over to greet us.

 
; Beau enveloped me in a tight hug, “You okay, sis?” Concern and worry made his voice sound strained and tight.

  “Not really.” No sense in lying to my brother. He knew me too well anyway. “How about you?”

  “Not so good either. But we’re going to get Rock out safely.”

  “Yes we are. Thanks for coming, Beau.”

  Hands walked over and gave me a one-armed hug. The olive-colored duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder dug into my hip. “Hooyah, Keys. How’s my favorite soldier?”

  “Trying to hold it together.”

  “Welcome to the pressure of a team leader. My advice—embrace the power.”

  I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but my nerves were jangling. I glanced over at Slash, but he had started a deep conversation with Beau, presumably updating him on the forthcoming operation.

  Figuring I had a few minutes, I decided, perhaps foolishly, to broach a topic with Hands that might have been better left for another, saner time. But seeing as how my life never seemed sane anymore, I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it.

  I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans and kicked a pebble on the sidewalk. “Hey, Hands, this is kind of awkward, okay really awkward, but can I ask your advice about something?”

  He was on one knee, pulling items from his bag and checking them. This brought back a sudden memory of our last operation together where he’d checked and rechecked everything. This comforted me, knowing that Hands was confident in my plan. I knew he’d leave nothing to chance.

  “Sure.” The easy way he said it made me think he expected an operational question.

  I swallowed hard. “Um, it’s not a question regarding what we’re about to do. It’s something totally different. It’s about a person.” I cleared my throat. “A guy.”