She woke up the day of the symposium gala and fund-raiser refreshed if anxious. After the fiasco yesterday at the memorial, she didn’t trust the FBI to keep her safe.
But Austin would be there—and she trusted him with her life, if not her heart.
He tapped his laptop when she came out of the bathroom after showering and dressing. “I’m sending in my report.”
“Has the FBI or the CIA identified Tyler Cannon yet?”
“He’s Tyler Cannon, grew up in Minneapolis, attended MIT and was working as an engineer.”
“And what? Was a terrorist on the side?”
“It would appear so. He did take two trips to Pakistan in the past four years. He could’ve been radicalized and groomed for when they needed him—and they needed him to get to you.”
“That’s crazy.”
“That’s what this symposium is targeting, isn’t it?”
“It sounds like there’s a lot of work to be done.” She spun her own laptop around on the table to face her. “I’m going to delete my profile on Spark right now.”
“Great idea.”
When she was done with that, she opened her emails for the first time in a few days. Morgan and Anna had forwarded some patient communications to her, and an orthopedic surgeon had contacted her about assisting in his office.
She drummed her fingertips on the table next to her laptop as she formulated a response in her head. It looked like she might have a job on the other side, but when would she safely get to that other side?
What if nothing happened tonight? No bomb, no active shooter, no indication that anything was over? Would Austin leave, anyway? Would the FBI leave her to fend for herself?
She and Austin worked side by side in awkward silence, as if neither one of them wanted to face what came next. All they could do was stay focused on the gala tonight.
They had a late lunch in the hotel restaurant, and Austin decided to keep it light, telling her stories about his family and the ranch. She could almost picture it—the happy family life she’d never had.
“I have an idea.” He toyed with the half-eaten fries on his plate. “If we have any reason to believe this isn’t over tonight, can you take some time off?”
“I guess. I don’t really have anything to take time off from since I’m already taking a break from school, although it looks like I might have an offer from another doctor’s office.”
“Can you delay that? I mean, if your life is in danger, getting another job is not going to do you any good.”
“I suppose I’d have to. What do you have in mind?”
“My family’s ranch in Wyoming.”
She dropped her fork. “Are you serious?”
“Yep. My father’s there. One of my brothers is there. They’d look after you...in my place. Nobody would find you at the ranch.”
“I—I’m...” She pressed the water glass against her hot cheek. “Clearly speechless.”
“Look, I know you’re not much of a country girl, and you’d probably be bored out of your mind, but you’d be safe.”
Safe and still a part of his life. Could she do it? Only if she knew he meant something more than just a duty to protect her. Maybe he wanted his family’s opinion before he pursued anything with her.
“Think about it.” He stuffed some fries into his mouth and checked his phone.
She’d ruined that moment. Why couldn’t she jump up and down and accept his invitation with a big smile on her face? That’s how she really felt.
He slipped his phone into his front pocket. “After I see you back to the room, I’m going to pick up the tux. Then I need some shut-eye before the big event.”
“I don’t. I feel as if I’ve slept for two days straight. I suppose you don’t want me going outside.”
“Negative. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I’ve had enough excitement in the past few days to tide me over for about the next twenty years of my life.”
Austin dropped her off at the hotel room, and she got back on her laptop to finish going through emails. She also took a peek at Austin’s hometown, White Bluff, Wyoming. Fresh air, clean water, hunting, fishing, rodeos—basically, a world away from her own.
She heard Austin at the door, and she closed out the website and snapped her laptop shut. Leaning against the door, she peered through the peephole and opened it.
He held up his tux, wrapped in plastic. “All ready, and the jacket’s roomy enough to accommodate my gun.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“Everything okay here?”
“As far as I can tell.”
He hung up the tux in the closet. “You know that whole Wyoming thing? Dumb idea. The FBI can probably find you a safe place, a big city where you can melt into the crowd—more your style.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s all right.” He stretched and yawned. “I’m going to hit the sack. If you want to watch TV, go ahead. I can sleep through anything.”
He seemed determined not to let her speak, so she sealed her lips. Out on his own, away from this room, away from her, he’d probably realized how unrealistic it was for the two of them to make any plans.
This terrorist plot had thrown them together, they’d experienced a chemical attraction to each other and had some hot sex. That didn’t make a future.
He pulled off his boots and collapsed on his stomach, fully clothed.
Her hesitation about Wyoming obviously hadn’t troubled him much since his heavy breathing into the pillow told her he’d fallen asleep in a matter of minutes.
His about-face didn’t stop her from sneaking another peek at White Bluff. He probably had dogs there, and she had a soft spot for dogs. Ruffy, a mixed-breed mutt, had been the only member of any foster family she’d ever missed.
A few hours later, she took a quick shower and changed into the red dress. As she took the new shoes from the bag, she pulled out the frame, still wrapped in plastic.
It was about time she replaced that cracked frame with a new one. Dr. Fazal deserved that.
She unwrapped the frame and placed it on the credenza next to the photo of her and Dr. Fazal. She turned the broken frame over on its face and pulled the backing from the slots.
As she yanked it free, something flipped into the air and fell on the floor. She bent over and saw a small, square, black object beneath the credenza and picked it up between two fingers.
A wash of adrenaline cascaded through her system, and she spun around toward the bed. “Austin!”
He stirred, pulling the pillow over his head.
“Austin, wake up.” She bounced on the bed next to him and nudged his shoulder.
“What? Is it time to go?”
“I found it. I think I found what Jilani gave Dr. Fazal and what their killers have been looking for.”
Austin’s eyes clicked open and he sat up. “What is it?”
She cradled the object in the palm of her hand and held it out. “It’s a minidisc. I found it in the back of the broken frame. He must’ve hidden it there, and then when he died in his office, he swept it off the table, maybe so they wouldn’t notice it. There would be no reason for Dr. Fazal to put a disc in the frame like that. He didn’t even use minidiscs. Can your laptop read it?”
“Damn right it can.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. “You’re a genius.”
“If I’d replaced the frame earlier, we would’ve found it then.”
“We found it now.” He scrambled from the bed, wide awake now, and powered up his laptop. “There’s a drive for minidiscs on the side.”
She handed it to him with trembling fingers. He inserted the disc and released a breath. “Pictures.”
He double-clicked on the first image,
and a picture of two men popped up. Sophia didn’t recognize either one of them but Austin jerked.
“Do you know them?”
“I don’t know the man on the right, but the guy on left? Oh, yeah. I know him. That’s Vlad.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes at the man in the picture with the dark beard, dark sunglasses and a black and white kaffiyeh wrapped around his head. “I thought you didn’t know who Vlad was.”
“We don’t have a name or background on him, but we’ve seen pictures, and this—” he stabbed a finger at the screen “—is Vlad.”
Austin clicked through the rest of the photos, which showed the two men obviously discussing something and Vlad handing off something to the other man, a thin, dark-haired man with an intense stare.
“These pictures are what got Dr. Fazal killed? Jilani? Ginny? Why? What’s so important about a known terrorist talking to some guy?”
“Because the guy he’s talking to is not a known terrorist. At least I’ve never seen him before.” He opened an email.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to send these photos to the FBI, the CIA and the other agencies involved to see if they can identify him—exactly what Fazal’s killers didn’t want.”
“I still want to go to the gala.”
“Oh, we’re going, all right.” He sent the email and pushed out of the chair. “I’m going to get ready in record time.”
Fifteen minutes later, Austin was adjusting his bow tie in the mirror with a stubble on his chin and bed head. Didn’t matter. He looked just as handsome as if he’d spent hours prepping.
He checked his laptop and shook his head. “Nothing yet, but I’ll keep my phone close and my gun closer.”
The same limo driver from the memorial was waiting for them at the curb, and he opened the door for them after exchanging a few words with Austin.
Austin slid in next to her and touched the minifridge with the toe of his rented shoe. “I’d offer you some champagne, but we both need to keep our wits sharp tonight.”
“And I don’t drink.”
“My mom would love that about you. She thinks my dad, brothers and I drink too much beer when we get together. She’d think you were a good influence.”
“With the crappy background and the mom in prison?”
“Looking at where you are today? She’d like you even more.” He took her hand. “I forgot to tell you, you look beautiful. I’m a lousy date.”
“That gun strapped over your shoulder makes you the perfect date for this evening.”
He squeezed her hand. “We’re almost through this, Sophia. Now that the intelligence agencies have those pictures, there’s no reason for these guys to pursue you. And they’ll make it clear they have the photos when they start to track down the man with Vlad. Vlad and his cohorts are going to realize immediately the photos have been leaked.”
“I don’t understand why Dr. Fazal or even Jilani didn’t hand over the photos to the CIA right away. Do you think Jilani took the pictures?”
“I think he took them before he realized what he had. Vlad’s terrorist cell may have threatened Jilani’s family if he turned them over to authorities. He didn’t know what to do and went to Dr. Fazal, since he already knew Hamid had connections in the intelligence community.”
“But they got Jilani’s son, anyway.”
“They found out he had the pictures and had communicated with Fazal.”
The driver buzzed down the partition. “We’re about a block away. I’m going to line up with the other limos.”
“Thanks, Kyle.”
“What are we going to do once we’re inside?”
“Watch. If you see anything suspicious or anyone suspicious, let me know. I’ll alert the security personnel already in place, and we get out of there.”
“Got it.”
The limo crawled forward, and Kyle got out and opened the door for them.
Austin took her arm, his body vibrating with tension as they walked up the steps to the library.
They swept into the ballroom, and it seemed like a world removed from what they’d been dealing with all week. How could it all culminate here?
“Sophia, you made it.” Rick strode toward her, hand outstretched.
She clasped his hand and made a half turn toward Austin, but he’d melted away into the crowd. “It’s so good to see you.”
“And you.” He hooked his arm with hers. “I’d like to introduce you to a few of the symposium panelists, people striving to make a real difference, like you did.”
She snatched a crab puff from a passing tray. Her nerves had prevented her from eating much all day, and now she felt weak and light-headed. Austin was right about staying well nourished.
She popped the puff into her mouth just as Rick led her to a group of three people.
“Sophia, this is Sylvia Fuentes and Paul...”
But she couldn’t hear the names over the roaring in her ears as she met the dark gaze of the man in the pictures with Vlad.
Chapter Seventeen
Sophia had recognized him. She knew.
He knew, too.
Austin group-texted the agents stationed around the room, but cautioned them from making any sudden or obvious moves. The man whose photo had been taken with Vlad was with Rick Stansfield, Sophia’s friend. He hadn’t come through the front door, hadn’t come through security.
They didn’t know what he had on him or what he had planned.
He hoisted the .300 Win Mag, which had been waiting for him in the balcony above the room, on his shoulder, and for the first time wished he was looking at his quarry face-to-face instead of through a scope. He wanted to be by Sophia’s side.
The group text lit up. No ID had been made on the man yet, but for this function he was Paul Alnasseri, executive director of Reach Out for Redirect, an organization committed to mentoring disenfranchised youth. One of the agents had gotten hold of a program for the symposium.
Austin’s heart skipped a beat as Alnasseri put his hand on Sophia’s back and they broke away from the group.
He licked his dry lips, and his trigger finger itched. If Alnasseri had a bomb, he might very well have a kill switch—a button rigged up to set off the bomb even as he went down. He couldn’t risk that. He wouldn’t risk that.
Three agents began to move in a circle around Alnasseri and Sophia. Austin’s shoulders tensed.
All they knew about him was that he had met with Vlad, a whole network of his associates had killed to keep that information from getting leaked and he was at the symposium under false pretenses and probably a false name. For the FBI, that wouldn’t be enough to take him down, no questions asked.
But he wouldn’t have a problem doing it. Not if it meant saving dozens of lives; not if it meant saving Sophia’s life.
Alnasseri’s head slowly cranked from side to side. He knew he’d been made. Even in tuxedos, the FBI agents looked like FBI agents.
A shout echoed from below and Austin watched with a clenched jaw as Alnasseri pressed a gun against Sophia’s temple.
Alnasseri’s voice rose. “Stay back. It’s over.”
Some of the people on the opposite side of the room weren’t even aware of the drama, but a ripple of awareness zigzagged through the people near Alnas-seri and Sophia, and some of them started backing up. A few screamed. Several dropped to the floor.
If he set off a bomb now, there would be massive carnage. If Austin shot him dead, Alnasseri might have enough time to squeeze the trigger and kill Sophia—and there might be massive carnage, anyway.
Alnasseri started ranting and threatening, and when he mentioned the word bomb, chaos erupted.
Austin tightened his finger on the trigger. He had to take the shot. Sophia had to know that.
In a split second, she disappeared from his view and Austin fired. Alnasseri fell to the floor, the gun dropping from his hand.
A stampede of people headed for the exit doors, and Austin held his breath, bracing for the explosion.
None came.
Epilogue
Sophia took a deep breath of the fresh air that carried a hint of sweetness from the multicolored flowers scattering down the side of the hill, announcing spring in Wyoming. Jenny, Austin’s mother, had called them Indian paintbrush, and they did resemble an impressionist’s watercolor canvas. She could get used to this.
A crunch of a cowboy boot on the dirt behind her brought a smile to her lips, and the arms that wrapped around her from behind widened that smile.
Austin kissed the side of her neck. “I heard you were naming the cows. Don’t do it.”
She turned in his arms and cupped his stubbled jaw with one hand. “I’ll stop when Maisie has her puppies and I can adopt one of my own.”
“You’re not going to bring the pup back to Boston and your apartment, are you?” He turned his head to kiss her palm.
“Your nephew, Kip, told me I could leave him here, and I can visit when I came back...if I’m coming back.”
“What do you think?” He traced her lips with the pad of his finger. “My family loves you—almost as much as I do.”
“I can’t believe how they just opened their home to me, a perfect stranger.”
“They’re like that, and when I told them what you’d been through and what a huge help you’d been to me, it was a no-brainer for them.”
“Did you tell them about Vlad? That the man responsible for Tucker’s death was involved in this latest scheme?”
“I don’t talk about that with them. They don’t need to know the details, especially since I believe Vlad had set his sights on Dr. Fazal, anyway, because of his connection to me. Jilani handing off those photos to Fazal just gave Vlad the excuse to come at him.”
“Paul Alnasseri was the perfect mole. They must’ve been grooming him from a very young age, and he’d completely stayed off the intelligence community’s radar.”
Locked, Loaded and SEALed Page 18
