by Fiona Quinn
Deep didn’t look up. His eyes fixed on his Rover dangling from one wheel by the rope. It swung out over the gorge then bounced against the rocks to arc out again. He followed the line to the oak that seemed to hold strong. That wouldn’t last long.
“You okay down there?” someone bellowed above him. “Hang tight we’ve got rappelling gear.”
The hell with that. Deep gripped at rocks and roots as he scrambled down. He slid out of control, grasping at handfuls of debris as the ice-covered grasses slicked through his fists and cut his hands. He made it under the car and grabbed the frame to stop the next swing. That’s when he saw Lacey’s shoeless feet dangling, unmoving, from the passenger’s side door.
A whoosh and a grunt brought an Iniquus operative to his side. “Shit,” the guy said, looking at the white socks, half-on, half-off, exposing Lacey’s motionless heels to the frigid air. He reached up and depressed the button on his communicator. “This is Trip, Echo Force. We’re going to need a med flight to stage away from the crash.”
“Roger that, you should hear them coming in any minute now.” Titus’s voice came from the plastic box on Trip’s shoulder.
“We need a technical rescue crew. Three ambulances. One for a DOA,” Trip continued.
“Roger.”
Deep felt the blood drain from his head. Could he something about Lacey that Deep couldn’t see from his vantage point?
Trip reached out and punched Deep in the chest. “The guy topside took a fistful of bullets. He’s Swiss cheese, man.” He pointed at Lacey’s legs. “This is going to be a trick.” He unhooked his auxiliary harness and handed it to Deep.
Deep wriggled the apparatus into place. “Lacey,” Deep yelled. “I’m coming for you, sweetheart. I need you to be very still.” Deep refused to let his mind go to dark places. Places that Lacey couldn’t come back from and live. “It’s just going to be another short time, baby, and you’ll be comfortable and warm.” Deep buckled his apparatus into place and hooked into the secondary line Trip had brought down to him.
“How do you want to handle this? That anchor rope looks like it’s wanting to fray. And I don’t have anything to stabilize the vehicle in our gear.”
Deep’s eyes travelled up the embankment. “I need more slack,” he called toward the road.
Trip said, “I’ve got one guy topside. We have another car coming in. Ten minutes from now this place’s going to be crawling with help. But I don’t trust that line you rigged up to last long enough. Not with all that weight.”
Deep’s practiced eye measured the scene. “Okay,” he said. Deep worked his way to the back of the car and very slowly creeped in through the rear window.
“Shit, that’s suicide, Deep,” Trip called, reaching out to hold the car’s frame to the slope.
Deep didn’t disagree. If the rope gave and the car went down, his climbing harness wasn’t going to help a thing. But as he slid forward, moving in through the back window, he could see Lacey’s brown hair. Getting to her was the only thing that mattered.
Deep crept forward feeling his way more with intuition than anything else, just like he did in the Middle East when he was never sure if there was an explosive beneath his feet or a trip wire across his path.
The car lay almost directly sideways and the rear passenger door gaped open. Deep slid his leg over the seat from the cargo area, placing his foot on the car frame. Making his body rigid, he pressed his weight into his toes, freeing up his hands. He reached out and brushed the hair from Lacey’s face. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His gaze moved up her arms, and he saw that she dangled from quivering hands, her clenched knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Alive.
Thank you Lord God, she’s alive.
“I’m here, beautiful. Hold on for just another second. I’m going to get a line on you and get you out.”
Somehow.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Lacey
Friday
Lacey stood in the bathroom in Lynx’s office at Iniquus, giving herself a last look-over before she headed to the meeting. There was no hiding the bruises and cuts on her face and body. Her wrists were wrapped in ace bandages, and Lynx had to help her dress and do her makeup.
She was in better shape than Deep was though. The gash on his forehead took fourteen stitches to close. They had had to shave his eyebrow to do it. They were lucky. Hugely lucky. No broken bones. No internal injuries, just stiffness and pain.
The other guy didn’t fare so well. Deep had killed him. Shot him through the heart so many times that there was no heart left in his body when they took him away. That’s what Trip said. Lacey didn’t even know the bad guy’s name. And never wanted to know it either.
She blinked at her reflection. It was Friday. Last Thursday she had dragged herself to Alexandria for a drink and some dinner with Steve, and her world had imploded. Today, maybe, she was going to start putting some pieces back together. Enough, perhaps that she could get a better picture.
A knock sounded, “Lacey, are you ready? It’s time,” Lynx’s voice called out.
Lacey walked next to Lynx down the hall. Deep moved into their path dressed in his Iniquus uniform of digital gray cam fatigues and a charcoal gray compression shirt that show cased his muscular torso and made him look like a superhero. He was. A superhero. He took her breath away. Here was a man who loved her enough to put his life on the line time and again. Someone who put her well-being in front of his. It was humbling.
Lynx looked from Deep to her then back to Deep with an “I see.” She turned her smile to Lacey. “Let me be the first to welcome you to the family.”
Lacey sent a questioning glance toward Deep, who winked and bent to whisper in her ear. “You’ll soon find that it’s impossible to keep a secret from Lynx. Ready?”
Before Lacey had a chance to answer, the two operatives had started up the hall. The area they walked through had the feel of a fine-tuned machine. She remarked on the industrial black and grey colors both in the décor and the Iniquus attire. Neither Lynx nor Deep were talking. They seemed singly focused on moving her as quickly as possible from Point A to Point B. Wherever that was.
As they took an elevator to the fourth floor, Lynx made a call. “She’s coming up now. Are we clear?”
Lacey almost rolled her eyes. This seemed so silly. When they had left the hospital for their hotel, Deep had explained that today she would be taken to a viewing room where she could see and hear everything that went on. Lynx would be sitting with her. But Lacey didn’t have a full picture of why she was being led in such a clandestine, cloak and dagger way.
A very tall and very beautiful woman met the elevator with keys in her hands, and a smile on her face. “Ms. Stuart? I’m Leanne Burns, our owner General Elliot’s personal assistant.” She started to walk away, and their party of three followed.
Leanne unlocked a door, and they went down another hallway until finally, they came to a room that required a thumb print to enter, just like in Lacey’s apartment building. Leanne pushed open the door, and they all moved inside. Lacey’s interest was definitely piqued.
One wall was made of windows. A line of comfortable high-backed chairs with desks, which could be lifted into place or left to the side, faced the windows, providing the view. A buffet table spread across the back of the room. It was set with platters covered with glass domes – fruit, sandwiches, vegetables, nuts, coffee, tea, and bottled water. Very healthy.
“You and I will be in here at least in the beginning,” Lynx said. “Deep is going to conference with the government. The FBI and CIA will be represented. We aren’t going to let them know you’re on premises until we understand their intentions. General Elliot will be in the room and will disclose that you have contracted with Iniquus.”
“I have the papers for you to sign laid out over here.” Leanne gestured toward a table. She looked at Lacey’s bandaged hands. “Well, as best you can. I’ll explain anything that you might have a question about. We’ve also assigned a lawyer
to you, Sy Covington. He’s on his way over to introduce himself.” She checked her watch. “He can answer your questions, as well.”
“Sy is brilliant,” Lynx said. “I think you’ll like him. He and General Elliot will both be sitting in the conference room. General Elliot will be representing both the government and their contract, and you and your contract. But Sy’s job is to represent you alone. Between the two of them, they’ll make sure that all of your rights are preserved to the best of our abilities,” Lynx said. “I’m on your team. My job is to interpret what’s going on for you and answer your questions as they come. And, if you ever feel uncomfortable and you wish to leave—” Lynx raised her eyebrows meaningfully, though Lacey couldn’t quite grasp its meaning, “—then it’s my job to assist you to do just that.”
Deep squeezed Lynx’s arm, and they seemed to have one of their private mind-meld conversations. Finally, he said, “Thank you for that.”
***
Lacey sat in her chair looking into the conference room. She was told that the wall was one-way glass. The agents would speculate as to someone being in here, but they would not be able to see or hear them, nor could they get to this room through any direct means.
“Why are you telling me that?” Lacey asked. “Do you think they’re going to try to grab me and take me away?”
“I’m trying to lay any concerns you might have to rest. If they ask if anyone is watching, General Elliot will indicate that I am in here observing body language. Here they come. The older gentleman is General Elliot. You now know Sy, and Deep, of course. The next guy is the Panther Force Commander, Titus Kane. His force was tasked by the FBI with finding you. The next guy is FBI Task Force Coordinator, Calvin Monroe, CIA’s John Black, and you know Steve Finley.”
“Steve Finley, not Steve Adamic?” This was surreal. He didn’t look anything like a software engineer. He looked . . . terrible, actually.
“Finley,” Lynx said, and squeezed Lacey’s shoulder with a look of sympathy.
Deep moved to the front of the table with a box and his laptop. Behind his head there was a screen. He took a moment to set up. The bandage over his eye made him look dangerous, like the kind of guy who enjoyed a good fight. He took Lacey’s breath away.
Quiet descended.
“Gentlemen, we are here today with the common goal of keeping American streets safe. Over the last week, I have been involved, by happenstance, with a series of events that seem to be of importance both to the FBI and the CIA. My connection with this case is through Lacey Elizabeth Stuart.”
Lynx said, “Wow, did you see that?”
Lacey turned her way.
“Steve. When Deep mentioned your name, Steve lit up with, gosh, I’d call it thanksgiving, hope, and overwhelm all at once. I thought for a second he was going to burst into tears,” Lynx said.
Lacey didn’t have the same angle of view that Lynx had, but she could see the side of Steve’s face was splotchy red.
“I am here to talk about my week and my findings. Let’s think of this as a three-ringed circus.” A picture of a circus filled the screen behind Deep. He used a laser beam pointer to indicate the ring on the far left. “Ring One. Here we have a Zoric family member who had somehow lost favor, and was killed.” Deep pressed the button on the remote and the image was replaced with that of Bogdan Zoric lying in a pool of blood on the bar room floor. “Not quietly. Not privately. In fact, very, very publicly. And in such a way that by the time the photographs are snapped and video footage was recorded, the only people who looked like they were involved was the dead man and this woman.”
Deep pressed the button again and there was a picture of Lacey, pulling the knife from the dead man’s back. “Lacey Stuart. She was grabbed by the FBI, Special Agent Higgins, as we see here.” Once again, the image changed to show Lacey’s ankle ensnared by Higgins’s hand. “And she fights to save herself, here.” A video showed Lacey’s high heel stomping Higgins’s chest. “She runs out the back door and is confronted by another group of men.” The next picture showed a storm scene with four men in long black coats emerging from a car. “She runs to save her life.” Deep looked pointedly at Steve, and Lacey could see that the splotches on his face became almost purple-red. “How did she get into this situation?”
Steve hung his head.
“That’s shame,” Lynx said, she turned her head toward Lacey. “You do know he’s in love with you, don’t you?”
“Deep?”
“Well, of course Deep is in love with you. But I was referring to Steve Finley.”
“Oh,” Lacey said with a frown.
“What you may not know about Ring One,” Deep continued, “is that two pieces of information were passed to Ms. Stuart. First, before he was stabbed, Bogdan Zoric approached Lacey and addressed her as “Danika”. Second, the murder victim slid a thumb drive into Lacey’s bra. It’s here in front of me, marked in Evidence Bag A.”
“And since that scene at the bar, a woman named Danika Zoric has also been killed.” Deep glared at Monroe. “Now, let’s take a look at Ring Three.” The circus scene was back on the screen, and this time Deep twisted in the other direction and pointed at the ring on the right. “The night that Bogdan Zoric was killed was not the first nor was it the last time that someone attempted to kill Lacey Stuart. She almost died in five different events. It began on a September day when Ms. Stuart went to Radovan Krokov’s home to hang a painting. I will add here that Ms. Stuart almost died three times that day: once in the house just by being present, once when her car was run off the road, and the third time when Musclav Zoric held the gun to her head. It was only because of Steve Finley’s quick and decisive action that day that Ms. Stuart lived. You will find eyewitness testimony on the flash drive marked in Evidence Bag B.”
The assembled team offered Finley approving nods.
“Ah, let’s not give Finley a medal too soon. He saved her life only to exploit it. We’ll get to that in the Center Ring. The second day Lacey was nearly killed happened when Musclav Zoric climbed into the back of her car with the intention of slitting her throat.”
Steve’s face turned hard with a fierceness that didn’t need translation.
“You didn’t tell him about that, apparently. Is there a reason you kept it to yourself?” Lynx asked Lacey.
“Yes, well,” Lacey cleared her throat. “We struck a deal, Musclav and I. I’d keep my mouth shut, and he wouldn’t kill me.”
Lynx nodded. “Sounds like a good deal to make.”
“Lacey talked her way out of that situation,” Deep continued. “The third attempted murder was our Ring One bar murder. The fourth, a sniper attempted to kill her at the press conference before Lacey could release any information to the public. And here we aren’t sure who had her in their sights. It could have been someone from the Zoric family, but that’s not a given. We have discovered that Lacey, in fact, had information of national import. It’s possible that someone who was afraid of what Lacey would reveal at the press conference needed to make sure she could not then, or ever, share that information. Knowing what we now know,” Deep stopped and stared hard at John Black, “It’s possible that someone who lived in the gray world—where there is no black and white—might weigh the costs and decide that an American citizen needed to be eradicated.”
John Black’s gaze never wavered. His face gave no sign of acknowledgement, nor did it negate what Deep said. That was a blank that looked like it would never get filled in.
Deep placed other bags on the table. “Lacey and I were heading back to Iniquus Headquarters with the evidence we had gathered about that murder, when there was a fifth attempt on her life.” Deep rubbed his fingers over the bandage on his head. “Musclav Zoric rammed my car off the roadway. But we survived. And we were able to retrieve the piece of live rock that you will find in Evidence Bag C. That live rock is the means by which we believe Radovan Krokov was murdered.”
When Mr. Black and the FBI agents all leaned forward with atten
tion, Deep stalled their interest. “I’ll get to that in a moment. But first, let’s look at the center ring. And if you thought Ring Two was busy, hold on to your seats, gentlemen. Wait until you see what’s performing center stage. We have pedophiles, prostitutes, and human trafficking. We have Special Agent Finley deeply undercover, living with his unwitting asset. We have blackmail. We have forgers. And insurance fraud. We even have a woman who, with the aid of Special Agent Finley, is playing the role of Lacey Stuart to facilitate all of this. That, by the way, is chronicled in Exhibit A. We have action aplenty. It looks very clearly to me that you all used a law-abiding American citizen, without her consent, as a pawn. It looks like you have endangered her life many times over. And it looks as though she might have been marked for eradication because of information that she may or may not have possessed. Does anyone here in this room believe that Lacey Stuart has committed a crime?”
No one answered.
“That’s an emphatic body-language ‘no’ from everyone,” Lynx said to Lacey.
Lacey blew out a relieved breath.
“Does anyone believe that Lacey Stuart was harmed because of American government action?”
Again no one answered.
“And that’s an emphatic yes,” Lynx said.
Lacey nodded with tears in her eyes.
“Does anyone in here think that agents of the United States government are culpable of breaking the law as it pertains to Lacey Stuart?”
The men sat stoically silent.
“Again, that’s a big yes,” Lynx said.
“Before I go any further with my explanations, I want to understand the role that Danika Zoric played in this con,” Deep said.
“Oh, good.” Lacey kicked off her shoes and pulled her feet up under her hip, leaning forward with anticipation.
“We know she’s dead. Why is she dead?” Deep asked.
Chapter Forty-Eight
