Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0)

by Cristin Harber

  There was a national manhunt—both to catch him and likely protect him. Perhaps there wasn’t a living person more controversial, more hunted than Dell Forester at the moment.

  James rubbed his chest as scenarios fought to fall into place. He didn’t want to start guessing until he had more puzzle pieces than the CIA trying to kill Allie and her running around with Dell’s name.

  Allie’s list would be the answer. James dropped his gaze, and the other words taunted him with a familiarity he couldn’t place—Farr and Stockland. Nothing that special, but next to one another, they scratched a memory, like a name he should have recognized.

  “Hey, Siri. What is Farr Stockland?”

  “I’m on it. Okay, I found this on the web for ‘what is Farr Stockland.’”

  The top two hits were for a political investigative journalist based in New Hampshire.

  James’s pulse raced. His senses tingled, and he switched screens, dialing Beth. The phone rang once before she picked up.

  “Beth—”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. Nothing is like I understand; you must believe me. But—”

  “I don’t care right now. Where was she found?”

  “What?” Beth asked.

  “When she fell. Where did you guys find her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Find out, Beth. Call me back.”

  “Doc, no one is going to tell me that. It’s need to know. I don’t.”

  “You do now. Find out,” James ordered.

  “Doc—”

  “Find out!”

  “James, I’m telling you—”

  “What I’m telling you, Beth, is you have no idea what shithole you stepped in. It’s not because she’s mine. The little that I’ve figured out on my own says your team is working something questionable.”

  “Questionable is what we do.”

  “I need an answer,” James growled. “Do the right thing.”

  He hung up and stared as he tried to understand the connection between a man who was leaking classified information, the CIA, an investigative political reporter, and a CIA operative who was being hunted. “This is big…”

  Had Allie been searching for Dell Forester? Had she found him? Or maybe the people protecting him? It sounded like a reach, but not as absurd as what he was about to do.

  Google easily located the reporter’s name and publicly available contact information. A minute later, James let his finger hover over the send button of an email with his unlisted cell phone number and “Dell Forester” in the subject line.

  Send.

  What good would that do? Who knew? Maybe James needed sleep, a meal, and fresh perspective.

  He stood up and stretched. Allie would be in recovery for—

  His phone rang. Number unknown. The reporter? Or maybe the CIA was pissed that he had sent such an email.

  He would never know if he didn’t answer. “Hello?”

  “Who is this?”

  James paced the quiet observation room, trying to get his thoughts in order. He was going to come off as a nutjob, but fuck it. “Is this Farr Stockland?”

  “Yes. Who is this?” the reporter shot back.

  Damn… the email worked. “I’m a doctor outside Washington, DC. James Tuska.”

  “And? Your email was labeled about Dell Forester.”

  The truth seemed the best course of action. “I was just shot at, and my girlfriend is in surgery.”

  A pause hung on the phone. “And?”

  “The last thing she told me before she went under anesthesia was your name and his.”

  “Again, and?”

  “I’ve already said too much, and I’m sure someone is listening.”

  “Who’s your girlfriend?” he asked cautiously.

  James laughed at the million-dollar question. “Truthfully, I have no idea.”

  Farr chuckled too. “Well, I don’t know if I can help you.”

  James’s phone beeped with a text message.

  BETH: She fell in New Hampshire. Best I can do.

  The connections were just too close. “But I can tell you that she was in New Hampshire a few weeks ago, fell from somewhere, and—”

  “Fell, how?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Tripped or… like, jumped out a window?” Farr asked hesitantly.

  “She’s recovering from a brain injury. More than a stumble.”

  “I found a window in my bedroom… tampered with. It should’ve been locked but wasn’t. Someone had gone through my home office while I was out of town. But we came home early.”

  Allie had been caught at the reporter’s house and went out a window? James couldn’t picture her jumping headfirst.

  “Look, I’m in DC now.” Farr cleared his throat. “Coffee?”

  James walked to the observation window and stared down. The final steps of her closing sutures were underway, and the doctors were monitoring her vitals. Her bruising had been on the back of her head. He remembered her pointing out that her hands had been hurt and her fingernails were damaged. Had she hung out the window before falling? “I can be there in an hour.”

  After a quick exchange of vague meeting locations, James borrowed a car and phone from a doctor friend who wouldn’t ask many questions. He ducked out of the garage and dialed a memorized number.

  “Yeah?” Jared grumbled after the first ring.

  “I’m leaving the hospital. Make sure they don’t kill her.”

  “Already on it. What else?”

  James rubbed his face. He didn’t know. “What’s Parker up to today? Can I borrow your tech genius?”

  “He’s available… but—”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Have him find me. I think you need to know what I’m about to know. It’s more than I want to deal with, and you’ll know how to handle it.”

  Jared cursed a string, and James could picture his friend shaking his head. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Doc?”

  “It all started with a woman,” James mumbled, and that was the only thing keeping him sane. “So long as she’s safe and sound. But if this is what I think it is, loop her in on the credit for taking down bastard traitors.” He seethed as he hustled down the stairwell and into the parking garage, heading to a car no one would expect him in.

  “You know we’re not in it for the glory,” Titan’s boss man said.

  “Known you long enough to know that.” James unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ll see Parker soon.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Farr Stockland was rolling a large coffee cup between his hands when James walked into the coffee shop’s door on the corner of Penn and Third in Southeast DC. He was the spitting image of his headshot, which struck James as odd because that never seemed to happen. It also struck him as something that would make Farr more trustworthy.

  Once eye contact was made, Farr stood up and greeted him with a nod. After an uncomfortable hello, they both sat down, and neither one of them offered another word. James didn’t know how to broach the conversation without black-and-white facts, of which he had none.

  “I’m a doctor,” he offered. That was black and white. “That’s about the only certain truth I have for you.”

  Farr nodded. “Everything is off the record.”

  “When you say that, do you really mean it?”

  The journalist’s eyes narrowed. “I do.”

  The coffee shop door opened again, and Parker strolled in, letting his gaze catch James’s as he moved forward. Titan’s guy would let the doc make the call on when to bring him in. “Have you heard of Titan Group?”

  Again, Farr nodded. “I have. Legit organization.”

  “Agreed. I also called them. I’d like to talk to both of you. See, Titan is protecting my… girlfriend.” That word seemed grossly inadequate for what Allie was to him. “I contract specialized medical services for security firms, government agencies—intelligence agenc
ies—and recently, I met a woman who had amnesia.”

  Farr took a long sip of his coffee.

  “It’s my understanding that she hit her head in New Hampshire. Though she doesn’t even know that. See”—James swallowed a knot in his throat—“I just learned where her accident took place, and she’s in surgery, as she was shot hours ago.”

  “You mentioned surgery and that you were shot at.” Farr’s color paled. “Do you know by who?”

  “Guess.” James wasn’t typically sarcastic, but falling into this mess had made him acerbic.

  “You can’t tell me?”

  “I’m not sure that I can,” James answered honestly, letting go of his acrimony and focusing on his mission. He rubbed his temples. “Because I believe that I’m walking the fine line between knowing classified information and seeing its fallout. I don’t want to end up in prison, but… if I’m right, something has to be done. Are you trying to find Dell Forester?”

  Farr didn’t respond.

  James chewed his bottom lip. “Do you think you know where he is?”

  Still, Farr remained tight lipped.

  “And who is protecting him?” James pushed. “Surely you have theories.”

  Nothing from the journalist.

  Frustrated, James turned and nodded toward Parker, who had nonchalantly taken a seat nearby. Wordlessly, Titan’s IT guru joined them.

  Parker briefly introduced himself and sat down then turned to James. “Allie is doing great. Thought you’d like an update.”

  Farr rubbed his chin and then tapped his notebook. “This is what I know…”

  Was it what Allie had been after? What she’d be willing to die for?

  “There are five people connected to the current administration that have reaped the benefits of Dell Forester, more so than others.” Farr rolled his cup between his hands. “Simply by sorting the information released, scoring it as a hit piece for or against someone, you can tally it.”

  James and Parker agreed, nodding.

  Farr continued. “Michael Cobin—”

  “The secretary of defense?” James asked.

  “As well as the vice president, and…”

  But James was lost in thought. Sic was on Allie’s list, though she’d thought it was smudged. Could it have been Sec?

  Farr took a sip of his coffee. “SecDef is in distant last place, but he’s still very far ahead of the next on the list, so I kept him. That and his travel were curious.”

  “Why curious?” Parker asked.

  “I cover the political beat, so the secretary of defense’s travel wouldn’t pop to me. But it irritated the guys who covered him. His connecting flights never made sense. Los Angeles isn’t a normal hub. And when you’re that guy, taking nondirect flights doesn’t make sense. His press pool noticed. They talked; word spread.”

  Parker rubbed his chin. “What’d they come up with?”

  Farr shook his head. “Nothing other than a suspected affair. Something along those lines.”

  “Huh.” Parker looked at James.

  Maybe James had the last key to the puzzle. He pulled out his phone and shared the notes screen. “I thought we had ‘sic’ and ‘def,’ or maybe it was ‘sec.’ Other than those two, these are words from Allie that we can’t figure out.”

  They sat in contemplation, before all shook their heads, unknowing.

  Parker pulled a small computer from his bag and set it on the table. “Let’s figure it out.”

  Both James and Farr stared at him expectantly.

  “Go get a refill or a muffin. If this is something of the magnitude you two are talking about, and we have no idea what, I’m going to need a while.” Parker’s eyes dropped. “An hour or two.”

  Shit. James wanted to be by Allie’s side when she woke up in post-op. But in the grand scheme of things, she would understand. This was more important.

  Two muffins and a large black coffee later, James tossed a wrapper in the trash and took his seat. Parker’s fingers froze on the keyboard. Farr looked up from his phone. Neither of them said a word as they watched Parker process whatever was on the screen.

  Seconds trickled by until he whispered, “Found it.”

  “Really?” Farr asked.

  With his eyebrows up, Parker nodded. “Yeah. And fuck, man. Allie did good. Even if she can’t remember.”

  James searched Parker’s face. “So…”

  He grabbed a flimsy napkin and a marker from his bag then wrote out, “Dell’s in LA. SecDef has him in a secure location.” After James and Farr had read it, Parker took the napkin, shredded it, and dropped it into his hot coffee.

  James’s world wasn’t politics, but he still felt the bottom of the world drop out. The secretary of defense of the United States of America was aiding and harboring an intelligence-leaking fugitive.

  “And you figured this out how?” Farr asked, as if he were in a state of disbelief.

  “Those are message board handles.” Parker motioned to James, referencing the unknown words. “They connect to websites that have encrypted credit cards. The data that’s stored on them is assigned to servers that process payments for various services. The SecDef used UberEats. Maybe to feed Forester? Maybe SecDef likes to have someone bring him a taco.” Parker smirked. “It was paid for with prepaid debit cards, but those were purchased with cash from a withdrawal made from his ATM with one of his normal cards.”

  “Uh…” Farr’s mouth remained open as James tried to follow what Parker had just said. “You did what?”

  “I followed the money,” Parker summarized. “Allie had the missing pieces of the puzzle.”

  “You figured this out by fast-food delivery?” Farr asked.

  Parker lifted a shoulder. “FBI busted a money launderer in Russia once because he accidentally used an account to buy his wife flowers.”

  “And… those were the handles?” James asked. “How would she have had those?”

  Parker’s eyes narrowed, and his opinion was written all over his face. “They originated inside Langley.”

  Farr’s jaw unhinged further, and James likely mirrored his expression. Allie had discovered a mole? “Why didn’t they kill her?”

  Parker shrugged. “Sometimes when they don’t know what’s out there, it’s easier to keep someone alive.”

  Farr’s head shot back and forth between them. “Who? Your girlfriend?”

  But then the CIA figured out what she had known, or not, told others or not, and decided it was time to kill her? Was that why there was a change in orders? From not helping her recover to taking her out? But Beth said there wasn’t—so a rogue team? A flipped agent?

  Parker tilted his head toward James. “What do you want to do?”

  “I trust Jared to handle this.” He leaned back, exhausted by the magnitude of what Allie had been chasing. “And Farr—”

  “When it’s time,” Farr cut in, “I’ll be available.”

  “He can get the exclusive.” Parker shut his laptop. “People and their agendas. Traitors and moles. They never learn, and they always lose.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Two Weeks Later

  Allie’s stomach was in her throat as she chewed the inside of her mouth. But she refused to let any of her nerves show as they drove to the headquarters of the Titan group. “Have you been here before?” She shifted in the front passenger seat of James’s new Range Rover. “This person is your friend, right? On top of the bigger-than-life asshole who knows how to hunt and destroy a traitorous SecDef and CIA section chief.”

  “Yes, an old friend.”

  “Because he has a prickliness to him that makes me uneasy,” she added as James ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow then threw on his turn signal and eased into the driveway.

  “I’ll give you this.” The SUV came to a stop, and he shifted into park. “Jared Westin has a tough exterior.”

  “I figured that out myself over the last two weeks. Helping out from a recovery bed sometimes felt like I
was under interrogation myself.”

  His lips quirked. “He wants to help.”

  She studied James’s eyes, trying to find comfort in the earnest stare locked onto her. “Help how?”

  “Angel, let’s learn what we can. Maybe there’s good news to be had. In addition to what we already have.” USLeaks was shut down. Dell Forester had been arrested, as had Michael Cobin and Daniel Yardman.

  Like the truth? She toed so close to knowing her past with the unraveling of the USLeaks story that she could almost taste it. Allie’s heartbeat picked up. “Should I get my hopes up?”

  “Not too high. But if anyone can help, it might be Titan. I hope, for your sake, this meeting works out. But if not”—James shrugged—“it’ll be okay.”

  “You put so much on the line for me.” Allie squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

  “I’m doing all of this for you, and I’d do it all over again. I love you, Allie.”

  “Really?” Loved her? How could he possibly feel like she did?

  Her fingers knotted tighter around his. For all the fear and uncertainty she’d had since the moment she’d woken up weeks ago with amnesia, knowing that every line she’d been fed was a string of lies, she still had a sense that everything happened for a reason, even as she was overwhelmed by the idea that he loved her too. “I love you too, James.”

  A lighthearted chuckle brushed past his lips. “Glad we cleared up one mystery today.”

  “Ha-ha.” She laughed too, letting go of some tension.

  “Ready?” James turned off the ignition.

  “Let’s do this.” They jumped out and shut the doors in tandem. He walked around the hood of the car and took her hand. Then they walked into the nondescript, yet somehow overwhelming, building that was the Titan Group.

  “Here we go,” he said.

  “I love you, James,” she said again as the front doors closed behind them. The building would either tell her the truth and set her free or trap her in this lie for the rest of her life.