by Katie Reus
She wasn’t certain she believed them, but . . . her gut told her they were telling the truth.
Chapter 7
Salad bar: an informal reference to the service ribbons found on a military uniform.
“Who at the DEA has the access to revoke your clearances before all this happened?” Karen asked, her green eyes focused and intense.
Tucker glanced at the others before looking back at her. It sounded as if she might believe them, but he wouldn’t bet on it just yet. “We’ve come up with a list of names.”
She nodded and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. It shouldn’t be so sexy, but she did this thing where she bit her bottom lip and concentrated so hard it was clear that no one else existed while she was deep in thought. She’d done it multiple times over the past hour when she was reading their files. He wondered what it would be like to gently sink his own teeth into that full lower lip. “That’s good. They’ll also have to have the sort of clearance to know who your team is. From what you’ve said, not many people have that kind of clearance, right?”
He nodded and the others murmured in agreement.
“Setting you guys up for treason is a huge undertaking, so whatever the reason behind all this is, there will be a personal thread. I’m guessing you guys were picked for a reason. That reason could be Max, so have you added anyone who might have a grudge against you or Max personally? Maybe one or all of you . . . I don’t know the complete scope of your job, but someone who got passed up for a promotion, someone who didn’t make your team, whatever. If not against you guys, then definitely Max. Wanted his job or maybe not something so obvious, but . . .” She made a frustrated sound. “There’s a reason you four were picked, and once I have all the names, we can run financials. Because something like this is always about money.” She snorted, the sound so irreverent it made him smile. “I might be wrong, but even when people try to dress up things under the guise of revenge or religion or whatever, the bottom line tends to be about money.”
“You believe us, then?” Cole asked before Tucker could.
She scrunched her nose, the action far too adorable and something he shouldn’t be noticing. But it was hard not to be aware of this woman on the most basic level. She’d been kidnapped but had remained cool under pressure. She’d been afraid but hadn’t let the reaction rule her. She’d been smart enough to escape, though only temporarily. And okay, yeah, she was gorgeous. Since they’d taken her when she was out jogging, she didn’t have a scrap of makeup on and she was stunning without any enhancements. Big green eyes dominated her face, and over the past hour while she’d been reading their files he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her. Or stop fantasizing about what it would be like to run his hands through her long auburn hair—
“I’m not sure yet,” she said, her words cutting off his train of thought, which was just as well. “I mean, if you guys were terrorists I don’t know why you’d be sticking around the country or trying to get a phone conference with my boss. Well, there are reasons I could think of, but . . .” She shrugged. “From what the news has said so far, there was no loss of life at the Botanic Garden and something tells me that if you guys had set that place up to blow, there would be massive casualties.”
“That’s a fucked-up compliment,” Tucker said.
To his surprise the ghost of a smile teased her lips. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, he did. “So you’ll call Burkhart for us?”
She nodded.
“After we talk to him we’ll let you go,” he said, the promise out before he could stop himself. “You can take all our information and run with it.”
The room went silent, Karen’s eyes widening and his team just watching him. He gave his men a hard look. “We took her to get Burkhart’s attention. He’ll answer when we call this time.” And if they set up a meeting with Burkhart, the guy would think it was a trap. Which meant there was a chance Karen might get hurt. That wasn’t acceptable.
“Works for me,” Kane said first with the others quickly agreeing. None of them had wanted to go this route in the first place, but they’d been backed into a corner.
Karen watched him as if she wasn’t sure she believed him but nodded. “So, what happens now?”
“We’re going to call Burkhart with your phone.” Her eyes widened but she didn’t respond. Probably because she was thinking the NSA would be able to trace them in seconds. Under normal circumstances they would, but not today. “I’m going to lay out everything that’s happened to us and ask for his help. We’ve got the fingerprints of the men who came after us and a list of potential corrupt DEA agents and employees. We haven’t been able to look at their financials, but that should be child’s play for the NSA. And all this should be enough for him to help us figure out who’s behind whatever this mess is.”
There was a trace of fear in Karen’s eyes that tore at him, but he ignored it. She was probably wondering if they planned to call Burkhart and hurt her with him listening in exchange for whatever demands she imagined they had.
When she didn’t respond, Tucker stood and headed for the back bedroom. They’d stored their electronics and unloaded weapons in the room, including a heavily encrypted laptop and her cell phone. He knew the second they put her battery back in they ran the risk of being tracked. Unlike on television where it took two minutes or some set amount of time to track a number as long as someone was on the line, that was bullshit.
If a phone had its battery in, the FBI or NSA or whoever could remotely route in to it and use it as a microphone. Theoretically, of course, since that was illegal as hell. As far as tracking her phone went, the NSA would be able to triangulate its location using nearby cell towers, since she’d turned off the internal locator—and he’d checked.
So they had to make that task, if not impossible, really difficult for the NSA. At least long enough to make the call and get the hell out of here undetected. His team was all former military and skilled when it came to infiltrating corrupt organizations and blending in to whatever surroundings they needed to. They wouldn’t have been part of Max’s team otherwise. And they were all more than competent when it came to technology, but none of them were hackers. Thankfully they’d learned enough over the years to block calls when they needed to.
He quickly turned on the computer, then activated the program necessary before plugging her phone into it with a USB cable. Finally he put the battery in and turned it on.
Back in the living room Karen was watching the news with the others. She stiffened when she saw him, her body pulling taut with apprehension as he set the computer and phone on the coffee table.
“Tuck,” Cole said, a wealth of meaning in that one word.
Tucker looked at his friend and shrugged. They’d worked together for well over a decade, long before they’d joined the DEA together. They’d gone through boot camp in the Corps together. They practically read each other’s minds. Right now they were taking a huge risk. Too many things could go wrong. The encryption on the phone might not work or Karen could sell them out. She might not know exactly where they were, but she’d know how long they’d traveled and for all they knew she’d figured out the location. That last part was doubtful, but this call was still a risk. She could blurt out enough information to be dangerous. But not making the contact with Burkhart was a bigger risk. “We’ve gotta do this.”
He made the call and wasn’t surprised when Burkhart picked up on the first ring. “Karen?” His tone was cautious.
“I’m here,” she said, her eyes on Tucker. “I’m sitting with Tucker Pankov, Cole Erickson, Paxton Brooks, and Forest Kane.”
There was a beat of silence. “Are you hurt?” he asked, unable to hide the tremble of rage in his voice.
“No, I’m fine. They . . . approached me this morning about an issue concerning Max’s death. I just saw the news and, Wesley, I think there’s a possibility they’re being set up.”
“Whoever’s in charge, talk.�
� A sharp, deadly order from a man used to being in complete control.
Burkhart had to hate that he wasn’t in control at the moment and Tucker hated that he was the one who’d taken it away. It sure as hell wasn’t going to make the guy easier to work with. “This is Tucker Pankov. I sent you a message a couple days ago about Max’s murder.”
“Grisha.”
“Yeah.”
“You want to meet with me.”
“Yes. Or we can send you what we’ve got via messenger. Someone in the DEA is setting us up and we don’t know why. The day Max was killed, hitters were sent to each of our residences. Our very private residences.” Their real homes weren’t even listed with HR. Not that it would be difficult for someone in the agency to find if they tried hard enough. Clearly. “We don’t know why, but we have the fingerprints of the hitters.” He wasn’t going to come out and say the men were dead, but Burkhart must know what he meant. “Then our clearances were revoked. We don’t know by who, but our homes are being watched. After the shit on the news this morning, it’s clear someone wants to discredit us. Max trusted you, and at this point you’re our only resource.” And if he wouldn’t help they’d go deep into hiding, completely off the grid. But only as a last resort. Men like them didn’t run. Tucker wasn’t going to let some strangers steal his life.
“You think kidnapping one of my people is going to ingratiate you?”
“They didn’t kidnap me,” Karen said before he could respond.
All four of them looked at her in surprise. Wesley ignored her as he continued. “The four of you will meet with me and bring Karen. Unharmed. Bring all the documentation you have and we’ll try to help you. If she’s hurt in any way, you’ll regret being born.” A sincere promise.
“Wesley—” Karen started.
“Understood,” Tucker said, knowing that Burkhart wouldn’t believe anything she said right now. He would think she was under duress and he couldn’t blame the guy. “We can meet you in two hours.” He named a location that was public enough but difficult to set up an ambush at.
Burkhart snorted and named another location. An abandoned warehouse. Tucker knew he’d be walking into a trap but didn’t see another choice. He wasn’t going to play hardball with the only man who could help them. “We’ll come unarmed and send Karen in first. And you fucking owe me for Tasev. You owe me twice for him.” Because of the tip that stopped the poisoning of a water supply that could have killed tens of thousands and because of his help with the female agent. “And you know as well as I do that Max wasn’t murdered by some Shiâ group. Whatever the fuck you do to us, we want justice for his death. I know you do too.”
Burkhart was silent for a long moment. “Be there in two hours. Karen’s unharmed or you’re all dead.”
The line disconnected and he nodded at his guys. They were already packed and ready to go, so he didn’t need to order them to gear up. “The three of you will relocate to destination delta. Stay there until you receive orders from me.”
“Fuck that,” Cole snapped. “We’re not leaving you to—”
“You are and you will. In case things don’t play out the right way, there’s no sense in all of us going down. You three will go to ground until I check in. That’s an order,” he said quietly, looking at all of them.
Their expressions were mutinous, especially Cole’s, but in the end they all nodded and filed out of the room.
He glanced at Karen as he started packing up the computer. They needed to get going. “Why’d you lie for us?”
Her expression softened and she lifted her shoulder a fraction. “Maybe I’m stupid, but I believe you guys. You’re clearly walking into a trap and you’re going anyway. After the news it would make more sense for all of you to disappear. Or if you had some other nefarious plan, it would have made more sense to use me as a bargaining chip. I analyze bad situations every single day, and this whole thing just feels wrong.”
“Nefarious plan?” he asked, hiding a smile.
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“You’re not stupid, and I’m letting you go before I meet Burkhart.” He didn’t doubt the NSA would be careful in apprehending him, but things went wrong sometimes and he wouldn’t risk it with Karen. He’d give her enough time to contact Burkhart so the NSA knew she was safe and unharmed before they met with him.
Standing, she blinked in surprise. “You’re serious.”
“Yep.” Now that he had Burkhart’s attention, he was sending all the info they’d compiled to the man’s e-mail.
“So if I wanted to walk out the front door, I could.”
He shrugged. “You wouldn’t get far on that ankle, and I’m not letting you contact him before my team is long gone from this house, but yeah, you’re free. I’m going to bring you into D.C. and let you go, okay?”
Her lips curved up a fraction. “Okay.”
He wasn’t certain anything would ever be okay again, but he was going to do his best to find Max’s killer and clear his and his teammates’ names. If he couldn’t clear their names, he at least wanted his teammates out of the way and safe. They didn’t deserve to go to prison.
Wesley buzzed Elliott on his phone. “My office, now.” They hadn’t been able to run a trace on the call from Karen’s phone, which frustrated but didn’t surprise him.
Selene watched him from her seat across his desk, curiosity in her pale gaze. “You’re not calling the DEA about this?”
He was still undecided. He’d read Pankov’s real file and the guy was a patriot. Had a freaking salad bar of military medals and awards listed on his jacket. The other three were the same as Pankov. And Max had loved those four men. That held weight with Wesley. “We tell no one about this yet.”
“She sounded okay,” Selene said, clearly trying to make him feel better.
“She could have been under duress.” God, Wesley couldn’t even think about Karen being hurt. After the bombing at the Botanic Garden, all the intelligence agencies had been sent files on the four men. The four men apparently holding his analyst captive. Everyone was coordinating to get a lead on the men, to find their location. As of now he knew that the DEA and FBI were officially tearing apart the men’s houses.
“True.” She didn’t say more, but he guessed Selene was thinking about how Tucker Pankov, aka Grisha, had helped her during an important op. “What about that e-mail he sent you?”
Before he could respond, there was a knock on his office door. “Enter,” he said.
Elliott stepped inside, the tall, lanky man shoving his hands in his pockets. He nodded once at Selene as he hovered near the door.
“You can shut the door,” Wesley said quietly.
“Uh, sure. Am I in trouble? I’m still trying to triangulate that call—”
“You’re not in trouble. What else are you working on right now?”
He perched on the edge of the chair next to Selene. “I’ve still got programs running info on the documented vehicles from the parking garage this morning, but I’m working on a—”
Wesley held up a hand, not needing a rambling explanation, and he knew that was where this was headed. “Hand it off to someone else. I need you to run the financials of Tucker Pankov, Cole Erickson, Paxton Brooks, and Forest Kane.”
“The bombers from this morning?”
Wesley glanced at Selene, then back at the analyst. “I don’t know that they’re what the media are saying. I need all the info you can gather on them. More than the stuff in their files.” He cleared his throat. “I also need you to run the information on five other names. All DEA employees, and I need you to do it covertly. They can’t know we’re looking into them. If they have an offshore account, if they’re having an affair, I want to know about it. Any cases they worked on with Max Southers, flag for me. No detail is too small.”
Elliott nodded slowly. “I might have to break some privacy laws.”
“Do what you have to. I’ll take the heat if it comes down to it, but you know how to cov
er your tracks.” None of this would be on the record. Wesley just needed info so he could start unraveling this mess.
At that Elliott relaxed and ran a hand over the zig-zag pattern of tight, short braids on his head. A Princeton graduate, he was a little eccentric and fit right in with the team Wesley ran. “Am I doing this alone?”
“You want a partner?”
“Depends on how fast you want the info and which group you want me to focus on more.”
That was another thing Wesley liked about the guy. He admitted when he needed assistance. For Elliott it was about getting the job done, not about accolades.
Both groups were important, but Wesley needed the info on the four men who’d taken Karen—and he sure as hell didn’t believe she hadn’t been kidnapped despite what she’d said. “Pull in a partner. Your choice but let me know who and make sure they know this stays between us. You focus on the first four. Time is critical on this. You’ve got one hour to give me a detailed report.”
Elliott was gone in seconds. Before the door had clicked shut behind him, Wesley was calling Ortiz. He had to set up a team long before Pankov and his guys showed up at that warehouse.
“Should I tell Detective Portillo about this?” Selene asked as the phone rang in Wesley’s hand.
Wesley paused, then shook his head. “No. The local PD has Karen’s picture. If someone sees her they’ll contact you. I don’t want to publicly announce she’s with them.” Because if Pankov was telling the truth and he and his guys had been set up by dirty DEA agents, he didn’t want Karen becoming collateral damage.
Chapter 8
