by Dee Davis
“Yeah, they lifted prints and Hannah verified that they belonged to Petrov. We’re still waiting for DNA, but it’s just a formality. She’s working now to try to figure out who he was working for. But so far there’s nothing concrete. Not that I expect her to find anything. Petrov isn’t the kiss-and-tell type.”
“Too bad we didn’t get him alive.” Tyler walked into the elevator and as the doors slid shut she moved the little Otis Elevator plaque and inserted another key. The elevator lurched and then headed downward. “Maybe he’d have been able to give us something more.”
“There wasn’t a choice. If we hadn’t taken him out, he’d have killed you.”
“I know. And I’m grateful, believe me. I just wish we had a better handle on how all of this fits together.”
“I hear you,” Nash said. “Avery’s been on the phone with the brass for most of the day.”
“I’m guessing they’re not happy campers.”
“They’re never happy.” Nash grinned. “So there’s nothing new in that. And the good news is that I think Avery’s convinced them to let A-Tac officially be in charge of the effort to get the detonators back.”
“I’m surprised. After my debrief with General Fisher, I figured they’d balk at letting me stay involved.”
“I think that’s where the raised voices came in.” They stepped off the elevator into the austerely appointed reception area.
The room served more as a buffer than as a real welcoming area. From time to time students tried to gain access to the elevator. Usually they wound up in an upper-floor lounge, but just in case there was ever a breach to this level, the reception area was designed as a decoy and, without proper identification, the precursor to a not-so-pleasant meeting with Avery—who also happened to be the dean of the college—and a one-way ticket out of Sunderland altogether.
“Well, I’m glad Avery triumphed,” Tyler said, slapping her hand against a bust of Aaron Thomas, the cool marble concealing a biotechnical scanner. “I would have worked to find out what happened whether we were officially sanctioned or not, but it’ll be a lot easier with Langley behind us.”
A panel in the rear wall of the reception area slid open, and the two of them continued into the hallway on the other side, the panel closing behind them with a whoosh.
“Avery’s waiting for us in the war room.” Nash cupped her elbow as they made their way down the hall.
“You didn’t run into me by accident, did you?” she queried, frowning up at him as they walked. “Avery sent you to find me.”
“He was worried,” Nash said. “Hell, so was I.”
She sighed, at once grateful and annoyed. “No need, but I appreciate the sentiment. The important thing now is to get this show on the road. I need to find the bastards who did this.”
“Totally understandable,” Nash said, “but before we dig in, you should probably know that there were a couple of conditions to our being allowed to take over the investigation.”
“Such as?”
“I’ll let Avery tell you,” Nash said, waving her through the door of the war room.
The big man was sitting at the conference table in front of a computer console. He rose to his feet when he saw her, his dark eyes concerned. “Glad you could join us. I was starting to wonder if maybe you’ve jumped ship.”
“Hardly. Just needed a little time to get my bearings. Almost getting killed two days in a row can be a bit disorienting. Anyway, there was no need to send a search party,” she said, her fondness for the man mixing with annoyance. “I was on my way.”
“Well, I worry.”
“That’s what Nash said.” She smiled, unable to hang on to her irritation. It was good to be back among friends. “He also said that we’ve been given the green light to find the people who stole the detonators.”
“I figured you’d be pleased.”
“But there are conditions?”
“Actually, only one, and it was more of a request,” Avery said, tilting his head toward Hannah huddled with someone at her computer station in the far corner of the room. “One that we were more than happy to accept under the circumstances.”
Hannah turned first, her spiky hair highlighted with magenta today, the color a contrast to the turquoise frames of her glasses. “Glad to see you’re all in one piece,” she said with a smile. “Hate to think I’d have to deal with these guys on my own.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Tyler answered, her attention still on the man standing next to Hannah. He’d had his back turned as he bent to study the computer screen, but now he was facing her, his lips quirking with an irreverent smile as his dark blue eyes met hers.
“I believe the two of you have already met,” Avery said, as Tyler continued to stare. “MI-5 has been kind enough to loan us Owen for the duration. I know you’ll join me in welcoming him to the team.”
Actually, she thought, swallowing a bubble of hysteria, she’d already done that, in spades.
CHAPTER 4
But I don’t understand why we need outside help on this,” Tyler said, working to pull her rioting thoughts in order.
“Well, to begin with,” Owen said, looking absurdly calm, all things considered, “the detonators that were stolen belonged to Great Britain. Not to mention the fact that we helped fund the development of the devices. So I think it’s completely understandable that we’d want a part in any effort to recover the stolen technology and unearth the culprits.”
They’d all five moved to sit at the conference table, Avery at the head, with Nash and Hannah flanking him on either side. Tyler sat next to Nash with Owen directly across from her, next to Hannah.
“But, surely there’s no need to be here,” she protested, unable to stop the objection. “Can’t you just work from London?” She knew she was being irrational, bordering on rude, but she couldn’t keep the words from coming out. She’d allowed herself a moment of weakness and now here it was staring her in the face. So much for love ’em and leave ’em.
“Tyler, I realize you’re a bit overwrought,” Avery began, his voice gentle, his eyes concerned, “but—”
“I know,” she held up her hand, cutting him off. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long couple of days. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was just surprised. I didn’t think I’d be seeing Owen again.” Now there was an understatement. “I’m delighted that you’ll be part of the team.” She pasted on a smile, praying that she’d pulled it off.
“Great,” Avery said, thankfully unaware of the undercurrents.
Nash, on the other hand, had the look of a man in the know. Or at least with a damn good guess. After shooting him her most indignant glare, she turned back to Avery. “So where are we? Nash said there weren’t any new leads beyond identifying Petrov?”
“Petrov is the man who tried to kill you?” Owen asked, his expression hardening.
“Yes,” Nash affirmed. “We’ve run into him before. In Colombia.”
“He was part of the team hunting Drake Flynn, right?” Owen asked.
“How did you know that?” Tyler frowned. “It’s not like it was common knowledge.”
“I’ve been briefed on the unit’s recent activities. And Petrov is on British watch lists, so I’m familiar with his work. Is Flynn going to be a part of this operation?”
“No.” Avery shook his head. “He’s on leave. In California. No need to drag him back for this. With you on board we’ve got more than enough help.”
“Makes sense.” Owen nodded. “So do we have any idea who Petrov was working for?”
“If only it were that easy,” Hannah sighed. “I’m digging now. But so far he has managed to stay off the grid. So there’s nothing linking him to anyone in particular.”
“Part and parcel of the job,” Nash said. “Hard to be an effective hit man if you can be traced back to your kills or your bosses.”
“Yeah, well, at least now, thanks to you and Emmett, he’s out of the game for good.”
“But
that doesn’t mean they won’t send someone else to finish the job,” Hannah said, her eyes worried.
“True.” Tyler nodded. “I’d be a fool not to consider the possibility. But if they do try it again, I’ll be ready. It’s not the first time someone has come after me. And I’m sure as hell not going to let them frighten me into hiding. I need to find out who did this. Which means I have to stay focused.” She waited a beat, her gaze encompassing them all, and then continued. “So where do we stand?”
“General Fisher’s forensics team is going over the site with a fine-tooth comb, and Hannah has been working overtime trying to sift through the chatter,” Avery said. “So far, the only thing we know for sure is that no one is talking.”
“Which could actually tell us something,” Tyler said, leaning back in her chair as she considered the possibilities. “If no one is claiming responsibility, then surely that tells us about the people involved.”
“Primarily that they’re not interested in publicity,” Nash agreed.
“Which rules out most of the major terrorist networks,” Owen said. “Without visibility they’ve accomplished nothing.”
“I’m not sure that that’s completely true,” Hannah said, opening the computer console in front of her. “The way I see it, there are four possible reasons someone would steal the detonators. The first, would be to embarrass the principals involved—in this case both of our governments. The project’s political dynamite. And in the right hands…”
“It could be calamitous,” Owen agreed.
“But we’ve already established there’s been no claim of responsibility and no public demands,” Tyler said. “Which would seem to rule out embarrassment.”
“I agree.” Hannah nodded. “Which brings us to the second reason. And probably the most obvious.”
“Money,” Nash said.
“Exactly. The detonators are prototypes. Which means they’re worth a great deal of money on the black market. I’d think there’d be interest from all kinds of parties.”
“For all kinds of reasons,” Tyler sighed. “All of them potentially dangerous.”
“So we’re probably looking at someone trying to sell the technology.” Nash said, steepling his fingers as he surreptitiously watched Owen across the table.
“I’d say it’s a high probability,” Hannah said.
“But you said there were four reasons to steal the detonators.” Owen frowned. “What about the other two?”
“Because the technology is new,” Hannah said, “there’s always the chance that someone simply wants to steal the technology outright.”
“A competitor or another country.” Avery nodded. “Seems plausible. But if that’s the case, then it’ll be more difficult to pick up the trail. Following that train of thought, it’s also possible that someone is trying to keep us from transferring the technology to the Brits.”
“That doesn’t really seem likely.” Owen shook his head. “I mean, we still have the plans. So nothing’s been accomplished, really, except maybe slowing the project.”
“I agree,” Hannah said. “I’m just trying to present all the options. It’s actually the last one that worries me most.”
“You mean that stealing the detonators is part of a larger scheme to build a bomb.” Nash’s words hung in the air for a moment.
“That wouldn’t be all that easy.” Tyler frowned. “I mean, the detonators are extremely sophisticated. And as Hannah said, they’re prototypes. It’s not like they come with instructions.”
“Yes, but with the right training it would be possible to work out how to use them,” Owen countered.
“Okay, say that somehow they do figure it out. There’s still the problem of building the nuclear device to go along with it—suitcase bombs unlike anything the world has ever seen.”
“I thought suitcase nukes were an urban myth perpetuated by the Cold War,” Hannah said.
“Would that they were,” Owen sighed. “But believe me, they were very real. Just not particularly practical. And by modern standards outdated. But with the advances in nanotechnology the possibilities are endless, the most likely scenario a super nuke small enough to fit in a backpack.”
“But it’s all theoretical,” Tyler said. “The ban on nuclear proliferation extends to research as well.”
“So why work on the detonators at all?” Nash asked.
“They have other applications,” Owen responded. “Most of them industrial. For instance, they can be used underwater for precision blasting, allowing for more environmental protection in efforts to secure deep-water oil and natural gas.”
“Anyway, the point here is that if the people who took the detonators did so with the idea of building some kind of miniature nuke,” Tyler said, “they’re going to find that it’s not so easy to get their hands on the technology necessary to do that.”
“Forty-eight hours ago I’d have said the same thing about the detonators.” Owen shrugged.
“He has a point,” Nash said, shooting Tyler an apologetic look. “And while I think it’s more likely that the detonators are heading for the black market, I don’t think we can ignore the possibility that the theft was just one step in a much larger operation.”
“Okay, so ranking motivations in order based on what we know, we’d start with money.” Hannah typed the word and it appeared on the large monitor behind Avery’s head. “And then what?”
“I’d say stealing the technology.” Owen studied the list as Hannah typed. “And then building a bomb.”
“Discounting embarrassment, for the moment,” Tyler agreed, “since we haven’t heard anything. If someone is going to claim responsibility they usually do it within the first couple of days, right?” She looked over to Hannah for confirmation.
“Yeah.” Hannah nodded. “Usually the first twenty-four hours.”
“Okay, so we’ve got a list,” Avery said, turning so that he could see the monitor. “Looking at each possible motivation, what kind of people are we looking for?”
“Well, with the first one,” Owen frowned, “I’d think we’d principally be looking at arms dealers or cartels. They’re the only ones with the proper contacts for selling the goods.”
“True,” Tyler said, trying to work through her thoughts, “but it’s easy enough to get someone like that to serve as middleman. Which leaves us open to any number of possibilities, from a terrorist or insurgency group trying to raise funds to an individual looking for a financial windfall. At the end of the day, everybody needs money.”
“But not everyone would sell state secrets to get it.” Nash shook his head. “And I think the key here—in any of the four scenarios—is that it’s probably a combination of people working together. There’s no way that this could have been pulled off without some kind of inside help.”
“That’s a given,” Hannah said. “First off the detonator project was top secret. More specifically, only a handful of people knew exactly when and where the transport was to occur. So in order to pull off the heist, there would have had to be a security leak of some kind.”
“So is it possible then,” Owen asked, his attention centered on Tyler, “that the leak came from somewhere inside your organization? You’ve already admitted that there have been problems within the unit. And it’s common knowledge within Intelligence that there were problems with the mission in Colombia. Someone helping the arms dealer.”
“I don’t think we can discount the possibility,” Avery said. “But the present situation wasn’t initiated by the Colombian cartel. For all practical purposes, Jorge di Silva’s organization has been rendered impotent. They’re no longer capable of mounting this kind of operation.”
“But there are commonalities,” Owen argued. “Insider knowledge and the involvement of Alexander Petrov. Surely you’re not saying that all of that is a coincidence?”
“I’m saying that the pieces of the puzzle don’t fit,” Avery clarified, his tone brooking no argument. “Which most likely means w
e’re missing part of the picture. And I’m not going to make any assumptions until I’m in full possession of all the facts.”
“Starting with why A-Tac was called into the mission in the first place?” Owen queried. “It’s my understanding that the order didn’t originate with General Fisher.”
“Or maybe he’s the one trying to cover his ass.” Nash frowned.
“As I said before,” Avery shrugged, “we have to consider all of the angles. Including the origin of the initial order for A-Tac’s involvement. So far it seems to have come down through proper channels with valid authorizations. The only missing piece is the author of the original request. We’re working now to trace it back to its source, and we should have something definitive soon. In the meantime, we need to start looking at everyone who had knowledge about when the shipment was leaving and where it was headed.”
“Which includes both of you,” Hannah said, looking first to Owen and then to Tyler, her smile negating any accusation. “Did either of you tell anyone else about the details of the transport?”
“No one.” Tyler shook her head. “Except for Avery. He passed the info on to me.”
“And although the entire team was briefed on the mission, I didn’t share anything beyond generalities. The details, like time and location, were strictly need-to-know.”
“Were there any records, Avery?” Tyler asked. “Anything someone here could have stumbled across?”
“No.” Avery frowned. “Nothing in writing. Just a couple of conversations we had and a couple of phone calls from Langley. No physical trail. What about you, Owen?”
“Just my bosses in London.”
Tyler wasn’t certain, but he seemed to hesitate, as if there were something more. “Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone?”
“Positive. There simply wasn’t time. I wasn’t brought up to speed until I arrived at the base about half an hour after you’d already left.”
“Seems to put him in the clear,” Hannah said, typing something into her computer. “Who else knew?”
“At higher levels I’ve no idea,” Tyler said. “Except for General Fisher. And of course Gerardi and Mather.”
