Marissa wanted to intervene. She knew that AGS owned very sophisticated software that even the CIA had not yet purchased. Allison herself knew this, but there was a reason for the short tempers. And thankfully, Jack McCord walked in with the solution.
“Dinner!” Jack declared as he strode in with two huge bags of what appeared to be Chinese takeout.
“Oh, thank God!” Maia chirped. She hopped out of her chair to greet her husband.
“No heavy lifting, babe,” Jack told his wife when Maia tried to grab one of the bags from him.
“Stop treating me like crystal,” Maia groused.
Jack only smiled affectionately, and Marissa was heartened to see the fierce love in the way McCord regarded his wife.
He lowered the food on the round conference table and cupped Maia’s face with his hands, planting a very wet kiss on her lips. “Good evening to you too, sweetheart.”
“Hate to bust y’all’s bubble, but eating in the datacenter is not allowed,” Tim said even as he eyed the bags of food hungrily.
“Since when?” Jack’s head pulled back like a cobra’s.
“I hope you’re not countermanding my rules, McCord.” A voice spoke from behind them.
Viktor had just walked in with Nathan and Derek.
Jack grinned as he lifted the food bags. “Not at all.”
“Did you get my Kung Pao chicken?” Derek asked expectantly.
After their bellies started to fill with sodium-laden Chinese food, Allison apologized to Tim and let him load the first discs into the AGS software.
They were all hanging out in the break room when Tim came back with the laptop, a look of excitement on his face.
“Got something,” he said, laying his laptop in front of Viktor. The others gathered around them.
“They were careful to avoid the surveillance cameras—” Tim began
“They?” Marissa clarified.
“Logan and some other guy,” the analyst replied. “But I managed to catch an angle as they were leaving the store. They came in two vehicles, Logan in a white panel van, the other man in a Ford F-150,” Tim continued. “I’ve run the plates. The white panel van was rented with falsified identification and was dumped this morning. The pickup truck is registered to Eloisa Logan, Logan's cousin.”
A pop-up notification scrolled through the screen. Tim clicked on it. It showed a split screen of two faces. Marissa recognized Henry Logan, at a ninety-five percent facial match with his service picture. The other guy was not found in the database and was simply featured with the screen shot from the surveillance video. He had a shaved head, a full beard, and bushy brows.
“The other man may have come in with Owen Reed on the Cassiopeia.”
“Looks like a Merc to me,” Derek piped in.
Viktor, who had been quiet until then, said, “Release an inter-agency bulletin on the pickup truck. The directive is ‘not to engage but call it in immediately to our hotline’.”
*****
Marissa stared at the blinking number on her personal phone.
“You gonna get that?” Agent Olsen asked beside her. They were heading to the U.S. Capitol complex in DC to brief Senator Robinson on the search for the chemical weapons. Viktor hadn’t wanted her to go by herself and sent Olsen with her. Viktor and Nathan were off on a lead about the pick-up truck. It had been flagged near an apartment complex, and the two had been staking out the area since early this morning.
She contemplated ignoring her father’s fifth call, but her gut told her to answer this time.
“Dad.”
“Finally.” Her father’s annoyed voice greeted her. “What would it take for you to return my calls?”
“I’ve been working nearly round the clock, Dad.”
Silence for a beat and then, “Did something happen? Are you okay?”
Marissa noted a genuine concern in his voice.
“We’re dealing with a situation right now, but I’m fine,” Marissa replied. Not wanting to avoid the subject, she added, “Viktor told me what you did. Though in some twisted way, I understand your reasons. I think you also know that I can’t be manipulated with your money. Otherwise, I would’ve taken an interest in Cole Nauticals.”
Trenton Cole sighed heavily. “I wished you didn’t leave like you did the other night.”
“What did you expect, Dad? You tried to bribe my boyfriend,” Marissa lowered her voice, embarrassed that Agent Olsen would overhear such a conversation.
“He didn’t take it, so no damage done.”
“No. Damage. Done?” Marissa said incredulously. “Are you so arrogant to think that when you fail to manipulate people’s lives, you can just brush it off like some failed business deal? You insulted Viktor. You need to apologize.”
“I will not!”
“Then we have nothing more to say to each other,” Marissa said.
“Wait. Let’s meet for lunch. I’m in DC.”
“Why are you in DC?”
“I’m meeting Senator Goodman’s aide on port security concerns.”
“You’re at the U.S. Capitol complex?” Marissa frowned. Unease slithered up her spine.
“Yes.”
“When was this meeting set up?”
“For someone uninterested in the business—”
“Dad, answer the question!”
“Yesterday. I received my summons yesterday.”
“And did you verify the request?”
“My assistant told me . . . what’s wrong?”
“It’s probably nothing,” Marissa tried to reassure her father. “Do you have a direct line to Senator Goodman’s office?”
“I think so.”
“Do me a favor and verify your meeting.”
“But—”
“Just do it, Dad. Call me back immediately, okay?”
After getting reassurance from her father he’d call back, she pondered whether to reschedule the meeting with Senator Robinson. She didn’t have much to report yet, and besides it would be best if they waited for the results from Viktor’s end.
*****
“Positive ID on the guy. He’s in apartment 5A,” Nathan told Viktor and Edmunds as he got into the parked car in front of the PeachTree apartments. “Heat signature indicates one person inside. Surrounding apartments are empty.”
The streets in and around the complex were empty because it was mid-morning on a work day. This was advantageous for their op and there would be less chance of casualties in case SK nerve gas was released.
“Chatter is indicating an imminent attack,” Viktor said. “We need to move in now and seize whatever is in there. The last canister had a GPS device. If the tracker is in there we could locate the weapons sooner.”
Viktor called the datacenter.
“Tim. We’re going in. Keep visuals on the complex and let us know if you spot any hostiles.”
“Copy that, boss.”
Viktor got out of the car and regarded the two Guardians with him. “Ready?”
Both men nodded solemnly. They already had on their Kevlar vests. Nathan pulled out the battering ram from the trunk. The apartment was a corner unit, so they had no choice but to approach from one direction. Arriving at the door, Nathan scooted to the other side of the portal, battering ram at the ready. Viktor gave the signal that he was going in low, which meant Edmunds was going in high. Stark hauled the siege device back and propelled it forward, releasing the piston that enhanced the momentum.
The door crashed open and there was a surprised yell. The bald man from the surveillance footage dove toward a weapon, but Viktor immediately called his attention. “Drop it!”
The man remained on the floor, his arms cocked, fingers spread out. Edmunds immediately walked over to the prostrate man and secured both wrists, hauled him up, and sat him on the couch.
“Keep an eye on him, Edmunds. Stark.” Viktor jerked his chin to begin the search of the apartment. It didn’t take long to find what they came for.
“Son
of a bitch,” Viktor muttered. His eyes took in the crate holding four canisters. The empty slots chilled his blood. Nine slots. Five empty. Two were used. Where were the other three?
His gaze slid to the laptop sitting on the table in front of the canisters. “Stark! Call Tim!”
Picking up the laptop, he walked over to the living room and sat in front of the hostile.
“What’s your name?”
The man simply stared at Viktor.
That’s how he wants to play it. Fine.
Setting the computer down, Viktor pulled out his cold steel Arc Angel Butterfly. Flipping the balisong open, he looked at the man again.
“Asking you one more time. What—is—your—name?”
“I—Ivan,” the man stammered as he eyed the knife warily.
“Ivan what?”
“Volkov.”
“You’re Russian?”
“Yes.”
“You know what I want?”
Silence.
“I don’t have much time, Ivan. I need three things from you. The password to this computer, the location of the other three canisters, and the whereabouts of Owen Reed and Henry Logan.”
The distress in the man’s eyes indicated that he didn’t know the answer to any of his questions. Fuck.
“I have Tim on the phone,” Nathan interrupted.
“Work with him to unlock the laptop,” Viktor said. He turned his attention back to Ivan.
“Reed doesn’t tell me everything,” Ivan said, beads of sweat started trickling down his face. “I just do as I am ordered. He keeps very close counsel—”
Viktor ran a finger over the blade of the knife like a caress. “Have you ever wondered how you would look with an eye-patch, Ivan?”
“Wh—What?” The Russian visibly gulped.
He nodded to Edmunds, who understood what he wanted. The Guardian leaned over Ivan and kept his head immobile, Viktor immediately stilled the man’s legs with his own and braced him across his shoulders against the couch.
“What are you doing?” Ivan screamed. “I don’t know anything. Oh, God.”
“Ah . . . ah . . . don’t move too much,” Viktor said silkily as the tip of the knife went right below Ivan’s left eye. “. . . or I might . . . slip.”
Ivan froze.
“Tell me something I can use.”
“I heard something about the train station.”
“The Metro?”
“I don’t really know, I swear.”
“What else?” Viktor increased the pressure the tiniest bit to break some skin.
“Something about trapping the girl.”
This time it was Viktor who froze. Barely keeping his breathing steady, he gritted through his teeth. “What girl?”
“The CIA agent. That’s all I know. I don’t know how they plan to do it.”
Fuck!
Viktor lowered the knife because his hand started shaking. He turned away and punched Marissa’s number. It went to voice mail. He cursed.
“Viktor. You okay, man?” Edmunds asked with concern.
No, he wasn’t.
“I got in,” Nathan said. And then, “Holy fuck.”
He turned the laptop toward Viktor. “It’s Union Station and the Harver Senate Office Building at the U.S. Capitol Complex.”
Viktor stared grimly at the blinking dots on the map of Washington D.C. This needed to be handled carefully, otherwise the panic would get more people hurt than the nerve gas would. He called the datacenter.
“Tim, mobilize every Guardian we have in the DC area. We’ve got the next target locations. It’s Union Station and the Harver Senate Office Building. Coordinate with local law enforcement for evacuation. I’m sending Edmunds and Stark directly to Union Station. I’m heading to the U.S. Capitol. I couldn’t raise Marissa. Have a unit pick up an Ivan Volkov at our present location.”
“Copy that.”
Viktor was relieved when he saw an incoming call from Marissa.
“Iz—”
“Owen Reed has my dad!” Marissa sounded like she was running. She ranted on about how Reed lured her father to the Harver Senate Office building.
“Where are you?” Viktor cut in.
“He said if I wanted to see my father alive—”
“WHERE ARE YOU?” Viktor shouted down the phone. Marissa paused, snapping out of her panic.
“I’m at the lobby of the Harver Senate Building,” she said in a more sedate voice.
“Stay there, I’m on my way.”
“But—”
“Iz. We talked about this. They’re going to fuck with us. We do this together. You got me?”
“Okay.”
*****
“Lockwood and McCord are en-route to the Capitol. Manning and Connelly are meeting up with Edmunds and Stark at Union Station,” Tim said as Viktor emerged from the Charger. He recognized the head of the U.S. Capitol police walking toward him. A trickle of people were descending the steps of the building.
“Baran.”
“Captain,” Viktor acknowledged. He popped the trunk and started gearing up.
“We have a hostage situation.”
“The hostiles have a man hostage, I know.”
“No. Armed masked men have the entire top floor sealed off.”
“What? Who’s on the top floor?”
“Senator Goodman, Senator Robinson, and their aides.”
Viktor cursed. Those were the senators involved in the National Security task force.
“We were told it was SK nerve gas. That’s the same toxin that hit the Cinemaplex?” the captain asked.
“Yes,” Viktor said. “Has there been any indication that the gas had been released?”
“No, not yet.”
“What’s the plan on rescuing the hostages on the top floor?”
“We’ve got a SWAT team on it.”
Viktor nodded. When he lowered the hood of the trunk, he spied Marissa and Agent Olsen walking rapidly toward him. He handed Marissa a mask.
Facing the captain, he pointed to the Guardian. “This is Agent Olsen. You have any questions about the SK nerve gas, she will be your point of contact. I’m heading in to try and neutralize the chemical weapon and will let you know when it’s safe for your men to secure the area. Do you have sketches of the men we’re after?”
“Yes. An Owen Reed and Henry Logan,” the captain replied. “Can’t believe our own citizens are terrorizing our nation.”
“Have you informed Tim on the new developments about the hostages?” Viktor asked Olsen.
“Just did.”
Viktor motioned for Marissa to walk with him.
“Heard anything back from Reed?”
“He’s not happy that the evacuation alarm sounded,” Marissa said. “He’s in the basement where the building’s electrical and ventilation controls are located. He wants me in exchange for my father.”
“How the fuck did they get past the guards?” Viktor said. “There’s been heightened security since the first attack on the federal buildings.”
Marissa didn’t answer and continued walking. Viktor pulled on her arm to stop her, grabbed her shoulders, and stared down at her.
“Is your head in this?”
“Of course it is,” Marissa snapped.
“Iz, we may have to make difficult decisions in there.”
Her lower lip trembled before it set firmly. “I know.”
They continued through the service entrance and sidled down the stairs leading to the basement. The surveillance camera hung loosely from the corner, a hole through its casing, the casualty of a gunshot.
Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, the basement door opened. Viktor motioned Marissa behind him. Reed’s henchman stepped through. Viktor immediately caught him in a strangle hold, cutting off blood supply to his brain and rendering him unconscious. Marissa caught the basement door before it slammed close. They immediately bound the man’s hands and feet with flex ties.
A few steps
inside the maintenance room, a rolling cart was set up against a wall. Inspecting its contents, they found suit jackets and counted four. Reed and his men were going to walk out like regular Capitol workers. That also indicated maybe three more hostiles inside.
They continued stealthily through the din of heavy machinery. Soon, they heard voices.
“This should do it.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
“What will we do with him?”
“We’ll figure it out when we’re clear.”
Viktor felt Marissa stiffen beside him, but her face remained calm. They moved closer and spied Reed and another man. Trenton Cole was bound and gagged, sitting in one corner. Where’s the third man?
Viktor’s hackles rose but he was too late. They heard the cocking of the pistol behind them.
“Don’t move.”
Viktor could have easily disarmed the man before him, but with the hostage situation, that was not an option. The man pushed him and Marissa forward after relieving them of their weapons. The two canisters gleamed ominously before them. Trenton Cole’s eyes widened, and filled with tears. He shouted what sounded like a muffled “No!” through the gag. Logan had a gun pointed to her father’s head.
“I was beginning to think you didn’t care for your father, Ms. Cole,” Reed drawled.
“Fuck you!” Marissa snarled.
“This is even better. You brought Baran with you,” Reed continued with relish. “Now I have to improvise on my boss’s plan of revenge because as you both can see,” he nodded to the canisters, “the clock is ticking.”
“Get to the point, Reed,” Viktor said icily.
“I will. It’s just too . . .” Reed sighed. “Tragic.”
He pulled a heavy chain and a padlock from the floor. “The original plan was to leave Ms. Cole here and have her suffocate by nerve gas, using her father as leverage and our ticket to escape. But since you’ve decided to join us, we’ll leave you too. Romantic, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Very,” Viktor replied sarcastically.
“However, I’m feeling benevolent,” Reed continued. “I’ll give you two a chance to stop the canisters from going off.”
Viktor eyed the timer. Less than five minutes.
Smoke and Shadows Page 25
