He lifted his chin, eyes narrowed and glittering. But, really, what could he say that he hadn’t already said?
“Have a nice life, ASAC McKenzie. Hope your promotion is worth it. And don’t you dare hurt my brother.”
* * *
Mac strode out of the bedroom. Apparently, the only thing Tess gave a damn about was her worthless brother.
He didn’t know why he was feeling quite so pissed—oh, yeah, someone had murdered his ex-wife and tried to frame him for it, and he’d almost terminally fucked up his career by sleeping with a woman he shouldn’t have gone within a mile of. Never mind the fact that someone was going around town shooting people based on color, creed and sexuality, and likely had more atrocities planned.
The look of betrayal on Tess’s face destroyed him, but that was his own stupid fault for letting her get to him. He wasn’t some naïve teenager. He’d been through the relationship wringer more than once, which was why he’d sworn off them for so long. Should have learned his lesson by now. Maybe a letter of censure would be the kick in the balls he needed to finally get his head on straight. His heart should be impenetrable, but apparently, a beautiful brunette with pi tattooed around her arm, had managed to sneak past his guard.
But his job was the only thing that truly mattered in his life. The only thing that had allowed him to feel a measure of pride and importance—that what he did mattered. That what he’d done with his life mattered.
Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity.
Yeah… About that.
In the FBI, perception was everything. Rules were king.
There was a high chance Tess’s brother was about to be arrested for conspiracy to murder and one of the few things that might save Mac’s career was bringing Cole Fallon in before anyone else died and rounding up everyone involved.
Tess really wasn’t going to be very happy about that. Shit, she might be looking at obstruction of justice charges for not telling them about that file earlier. And that was assuming she was innocent.
He met Frazer in the hallway. “Ready?”
The other man nodded. “Got a location on Cole Fallon’s cell phone. Heading east toward Capitol Hill.”
Jesus.
Parker joined them and handed Mac a Glock-22. Mac nodded his appreciation as he checked the weapon.
“What about her?” Mac inclined his head toward the bedroom.
“Tess?” Frazer asked nonchalantly. He was the master of being an asshole using just one word.
“Yes,” Mac gritted. “Tess.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Over my dead body.” Mac didn’t even turn to face her.
“She can ride with me,” Parker suggested. “Taking two cars is a useful idea in case we need to split up. After we locate Cole, I can drop Tess at her car. Assuming the press has dispersed.”
Mac met Parker’s gaze. He needed her contained. He needed her safe. But nobody gave a fuck what he needed.
“I won’t get in the way. I won’t put your operation in jeopardy but I might be able to help. With Cole.” Tears glistened in her eyes.
Mac felt his upper lip curl.
The goddamned baby brother again. When was she going to see Cole was an adult, responsible for his own actions? Mac turned without saying anything and led the way back to the parking garage. Maybe this was what it would take to convince Tess that Cole wasn’t some innocent, little kid anymore. And maybe it was exactly what was needed to draw a line between the two of them. Arresting her baby brother was not something she’d forgive him for.
But he did not like the idea of her being in the crossfire. Not again.
He didn’t look at her as he got into Frazer’s Lexus and they drove away. The distance between them grew exponentially with every second of this investigation, with every word he left unspoken. And that’s what he needed to do even though what he really wanted was to take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.
It wasn’t.
Time to get his head on straight and prove where his true loyalty lay. Time to keep the vows he’d made when he’d sworn fealty to the United States of America and take these bastards down. Time to forget everything he was feeling for Tess.
Chapter Thirty
Tess climbed into a low-slung Audi and sat back in the seat. She couldn’t bring herself to even look at Mac as he drove away in the Lexus with the other agent.
Alex Parker placed his phone in a holder on the dash, the screen displaying a map with a red dot on it. That red dot was Cole.
Tess’s heart pounded like prey scenting a predator even though Cole was the one they were hunting.
Parker slipped a laptop behind her seat. “You, okay?”
“Only if the feeling of incipient vomiting is normal? You have family, Mr. Parker?”
His grip was loose but competent on the steering wheel. He took his time heading up the ramp onto the street. He was giving her space from Mac. Space she desperately needed.
“I didn’t for many years…” He looked at her with a smile she couldn’t read. “I do now.”
The acknowledgement that family was everything flashed in his eyes.
The panic inside her kept growing and threatened to choke her. “With the exception of my adoptive mother who died last year, Cole is the only real family I’ve had since I was ten years old.” She rubbed her hands together, trying to generate some heat. “I’ve dedicated my life to taking care of him.”
“He’s all grown up now.”
“I know. And I know he’s responsible for his own actions. If he’s involved in these murders or in some crazy plot then he needs to be held accountable.” She sucked in a deep breath. “He needs to go to prison.”
“But you don’t believe he’s involved.” Parker eased through traffic, one eye on the dot. Tess tensed as she watched it, too. Would Cole resist arrest? Probably. He was a belligerent young male. Would they shoot him? Her stomach roiled at the thought.
He was about a mile away. This time on a Friday morning traffic was quiet.
“You don’t think Cole would shoot anyone?” he asked.
She bit her thumbnail down to the quick and winced at the sharp burst of pain. “I know he wouldn’t.”
“Sometimes people have secrets.”
Tess wanted to laugh. She knew all about keeping secrets.
“They hide who they really are even from the people they love.” Parker was quiet for a moment. “It’s not unusual to be resistant to the idea someone might be guilty of killing another human being—”
“I’m not naïve, Mr. Parker. I grew up in a white supremacist compound with a daddy who wanted to murder innocent people and blow up the government for funzies. They beat up and possibly killed anyone who didn’t agree with their ideals, and married their daughters off to perverts to hide sex crimes. I am not one of those females who see the world through rose-colored glasses, or if I do, the roses are blood-red and thorny as hell.”
Parker gave her another considering look. “Call me Alex. And whether Cole is guilty or not, custody might be the safest place for him, right now.” He paused, considering. “If someone is using your father’s doctrine to try and start a war with the federal government then who’s to say they wouldn’t use you or your brother to further their cause—with or without your consent?”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. She frowned as she read the names of the streets they were passing, a memory tugging at her subconscious. “It’s weird the fact I live here now. The only books I was allowed to read growing up were The Bible and The Turner Diaries which is partly set in DC. You ever read it?”
Parker shook his head.
Her mouth went suddenly dry and her heart beat thundered. “It’s hate-filled garbage. The so-called heroes of the book attack FBI HQ.”
Alex held her stare for a full second and she thought they were going to crash. Then he put his foot flat on the accelerator.
Tess held on tight. He started driving so fast she was
terrified she was going to die in a head-on collision as he sped down the wrong side of the wide avenue named for the great state of Pennsylvania. The Capitol Building stood like a sentinel in the distance.
She saw it at exactly the same moment Parker did.
“Shit.” He applied the handbrake and managed to screech his car to a halt sideways across the road, blocking two lanes of the four lanes of north bound traffic. He leapt out and ran to a patrol cop, yelling at him to stop traffic. Tess jumped out of the passenger seat and, while Parker had his back turned, she started sprinting toward the white van that was parked outside the visitor entrance of the FBI.
* * *
Mac and Frazer had just turned from Ninth onto Pennsylvania Avenue, hoping to get eyes on Cole Fallon when every molecule of saliva evaporated from Mac’s mouth.
A white moving van sat smack outside the south entrance of the J. Edgar Hoover Building. The red dot of Cole’s cell phone flashed on Frazer’s screen in that exact position. Mac called Walsh at SIOC. “Possible truck bomb at FBI HQ. Penn Ave. Tell security and get the bomb squad down here ASAP and move people to the north of the building.” Frazer was on the phone to Parker saying something about getting signal jammers in place. Mac got out of the Lexus and looked around. Tourists dotted the sidewalk. It wasn’t packed, but enough people were around to make a bloody statement. Headquarters had been designed to withstand a bomb blast, but with enough explosives, a McVeigh-wannabe could inflict some serious damage.
It was OKBOMB all over again. In The Turner Diaries, the cocksucker hero attacked this very building. Copying that cancerous narrative was the perfect way for these assholes to try to start their revolution.
He should have guessed.
A flash of red had his heart stopping. Tess was running toward the vehicle. For a split-second he wondered if he’d been wrong the entire time about her being involved. Then he stopped thinking and started running.
Frazer was at his shoulder, both had weapons drawn and civilians scattered and fled. Tess was screaming her brother’s name. Then, when she got about twenty yards away from the truck, Parker tackled her. She was still well within blast range.
Sweat poured off Mac and his mouth felt dry as a furnace. The idea of Tess being hurt or dying was enough to slam terror straight to his marrow.
She was crying out her brother’s name, begging him not to do anything stupid. That train had left the station long ago.
Parker tossed Mac his keychain and he caught it one-handed. The red light was on and Mac remembered what the guy had said about it blocking electronic signals within a small radius. Mac placed the fob on the rear bumper and said a little prayer as he and Frazer approached the driver’s side door.
Didn’t matter your religion or how much training you’d received when faced with a potential IED—you still said a few prayers to the man upstairs.
He pointed his gun at the driver. An open-mouthed Cole Fallon gaped at him. Only the fact Mac could see both hands stopped him putting a bullet straight between the young man’s eyes.
Mac opened the door and hauled him from his seat. Thankfully there was no detonator in sight. But the cold sweat of fear didn’t ease up.
If the explosives were on a timer they all were still fucked.
“Cole, what have you done!” Tess screamed.
Parker pulled Tess to her feet and dragged her backwards, away from the danger. Mac didn’t dare look at her.
Frazer cuffed Cole while Mac held a weapon on him. Then they yanked Cole to his feet.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cole yelled.
“Like you don’t know,” Mac muttered.
“I’m going to have you charged with police brutality. People are filming this.”
Mac glanced around. Sure enough, there were tourists filming the show without a thought to the danger they might be in. Shit. The Feds needed to get a handle on this now. Clear the streets. Shut down the news reports. Contain it.
First, they needed to make sure the bomb was deactivated.
Frazer grabbed the guy’s cell and the keys from his pocket. Then Mac pushed Cole so they moved to the back of the truck. Bomb squad techs came rushing out of the building. He wouldn’t do their job for all the money in the Federal Reserve.
“We have reason to believe there’s a bomb inside,” Mac told the tech.
Cole’s jaw dropped.
“A security expert set up a signal jammer. Open her up. We want to see what’s inside so we know what we’re dealing with,” Frazer said impatiently.
“And let’s get a move on in case it’s on a timer,” Mac added.
The bomb tech shot Mac and Frazer a withering glance. “Yeah. That’s how we all die. Move back to a safe distance and I’ll look inside.”
Mac wanted to argue but wasn’t given a choice. He moved back and dragged Cole with him. Tess was evacuated in the opposite direction and every foot between them seemed like a black hole opening up.
“You guys are going to feel like fucking morons when that guy opens that truck. It’s full of my girlfriend’s furniture. Call her. Carolyn Martin. She works here. I was about to text her that I was here to pick her up.” Cole was laughing, but his voice was high and strained. “Hope the press caught your humiliation on film, assholes.”
The guy sounded like he believed what he was saying. If Mac didn’t know what he knew, he might have believed Cole.
Mac and Frazer took cover behind Frazer’s car and drew Cole down beside them. After a few minutes, the tech slowly opened up the back of the truck and whistled.
They all peeked around the edge of the vehicle and Mac’s heart stopped beating. There were enough barrels of fuel and fertilizer packed into the cargo area to bring down an entire city block. Enough to kill and maim anyone close by.
“What the…?” Cole whispered. His skin took on a milky glow. He swayed.
Mac stared at Tess’s brother and knew they were both about to break her heart. But at least she was alive. At least this fucker hadn’t detonated that truck and her along with it. Mac’s gut clenched at the idea of Tess being caught up in something like that. He wanted to punch Cole in the face for throwing away all the advantages he’d been raised with, but instead he did something better.
“Cole Fallon, I’m arresting you on possession of a weapon of mass destruction…”
Chapter Thirty-One
She checked her watch and looked up nervously from her computer terminal. It was eleven-fifty a.m. Where was Cole? He should have texted her by now. Then she heard a murmur of excitement race through the building.
“What’s happening?” she asked a tech who was passing behind her.
“Conflicting reports of a possible bomb threat on the street.”
“Bomb threat?”
“Truck bomb.”
Shit. “Should we evacuate?”
“We’ve been told to shelter in place. SIOC was designed to withstand that sort of blast. We should be fine.”
A tremor of excitement ran through her. She reached into the pocket in her fancy leather satchel to retrieve her newest burner phone. Reverently, she punched in the numbers of the cell attached to the five-thousand pounds of explosives packed into the back of that truck—the exact same amount McVeigh had used in Oklahoma. She waited for the call to connect, bracing herself for the blast even though she should be safe. She’d never intended to die for the cause. She couldn’t lead from the grave—or from a jail cell for that matter.
She regretted Cole would die, but it turned out his resemblance to his father didn’t extend beyond his good looks. Cole had been corrupted by the impure. But he’d die honoring his father, the man she truly loved.
Her lips tightened and she dialed the number again. She kept expecting to feel a boom but nothing happened. Dammit. She called a third time. Again. Nothing.
Had the idiot fucked up making the bomb? Trent was a farmer out in Virginia who was all for the reinstitution of slavery. He wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. She sh
ould have known he was the weak link in the chain, but how hard could it be? She put the cell back in her bag and closed it. If you wanted something done, do it yourself.
“Excitement’s over,” their section chief shouted across the room. “Bomb has been disarmed.”
She clapped like every other mindless drone.
“Who’s responsible?” someone yelled back.
“Some young guy. Related to that white nationalist group, the Pioneers.”
“They shoot him?”
“Nah, pulled him from the cab and arrested his skinny ass. He’s being brought in for questioning.”
Ah, crap. That sealed it.
She’d failed.
Everything she’d done. Everything she’d worked for. All for nothing.
She climbed to her feet and stretched out her back. Cole might not know her real name, but it was only a matter of time before he was shown photographs and identified her as his lover. She had to disappear before they found her.
A commotion started near the main door. The Director of the FBI and the US Attorney General headed into their briefing room. She checked her watch. They were later than usual, but maybe they were here because of the bomb threat. Excitement fizzled through her blood and almost made her dizzy.
Their bomb plot might have failed, but maybe this would be better. Killing the FBI Director and the AG in the heart of the Hoover Building would send a message that would ring through the centuries.
On the screens in the media room she could see newsfeeds of the van out front. The news hounds would be baying and snarling for more information, for a story. Her fellow patriots all over the country were waiting, ready to rise up and take action just as soon as they saw a definitive sign that the revolution had started.
This would work.
She started walking toward the meeting room where some of the aides mingled. Her hand slid to her weapon. Everyone was talking excitedly. No one noticed her. Then the director and AG went into the small private briefing room and firmly shut the door. The man who stood in front of the door caught her eye and stared hard. Her hand dropped away from her weapon. She carried on walking and veered right, heading into the outside corridor. She went to the ladies’ room to regroup.
Cold Malice Page 33
