by T C Archer
Cole leaned forward. “OIA reported you were the mole. I saw the receipt for a two hundred thousand dollar transfer into a Cayman island account with your name on it.”
Jesse nodded. “Two hundred grand? Try two million.”
Cole’s scowl turned ferocious.
Jesse sighed. She was tired, so tired, and was nowhere close to ending this nightmare. “I can’t be bought,” she said, “and I’m not the one who got the two million.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s Lanton’s blood money. I guess the going rate for a setup is ten per cent of the take.”
Cole studied her. “What proof have you got he’s the mole?”
Jesse’s pulse accelerated. This was a legitimate question, and Cole deserved to know everything—he deserved a helluva a lot more than that, in fact. But the faces of the men she’d seen slaughtered were burned into her memory. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—forget the way the one man dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes after being shot, or the way the other staggered backward as the AK47 emptied into him…or the four bodies lying on the ground like discarded garbage. She had to live with that nightmare, had to live with knowing that had she gone straight to the village she could have saved them. Now, maybe, she had to live with knowing she’d left someone behind. All these reasons were why she had to keep her vision clear. The man sitting across from her might be exactly who he said he was. Then again, he might not. The bell on the diner’s door tinkled, and Jesse glanced up to see a man enter. He made a beeline for the counter behind her.
Jesse waited until he had passed, then placed her elbows on the table and leaned toward Cole. “Green Leader played you the recording of my two calls to headquarters?”
Cole gave a single nod.
“The first call gave the ok?”
Cole nodded again.
“The second call was a threat directed at Lanton?”
“Right.”
“That’s what you heard. That’s not what happened.”
“What did happen?" he asked in a voice that betrayed no emotion.
She didn’t blame him for being noncommittal. For all he knew, she was as good an actress as she feared he was an actor.
“The first call, I’d found no problems, and gave the all clear. The second call, however, I made after meeting with my contact. He informed me we had a mole. But before he could give any details, mercenaries burst in on us and shot him.”
Cole’s face softened. “I’m sorry.”
“He had a young wife and child,” Jesse said. She hadn’t told anyone a thing about Martinez. Unshed tears stung the corners of her eyes. “I called the second time to instruct Blue Leader to abort the mission. Green Leader intercepted the call, then rejected my verification and canceled my code.” She started to say she’d gone back to the village, then stopped. Why talk about the men she’d seen murdered…why own up to the fact she’d left Cole with those monsters?
“The recording was very convincing,” Cole said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“Even if he is the one who tipped Perez, it doesn’t make sense. He could say your call spooked him and ordered Green Team to stand down.”
Jesse nodded. “It makes sense if he wanted to ensure that every law enforcement agency would make finding me a priority. Though that doesn’t explain how I got out of Columbia so easily.”
Cole frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Getting back to the States was easier than it should have been.”
“The Columbians didn’t try to kill you along with your contact?”
“They put up a good chase,” she replied. “But I wasn’t surprised that I eluded them. We’re trained for that.”
“Why not kill you along with your contact?” Cole asked. “That way, any defense is buried with you, and OIA closes the file.”
But Jesse knew why. “Because Lanton wants something I have.”
Or believed she had. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Green Leader intended from the start that she take the fall for selling out Green Team, just as he intended she make back in the States. After all, he couldn’t chance anything incriminating would leak as a result of her sudden death—and he needed her to lead him to the evidence.
Cole frowned. “What could be bigger than evidence he’d sold out to the Columbians?”
Jesse gave a low laugh. “Nothing. But he wasn’t worried about getting nailed as the mole. I reported what had transpired during the meeting with my contact, including the fact the mercenaries shot him before he could reveal the mole’s identity.”
Cole released a slow whistle.
Jesse nodded. “I couldn’t have walked into a better trap.”
“You couldn’t know.”
But she should have. “How long have you been with OIA?” she asked.
“Ten years. I was recruited six months before my enlistment was up.”
“And they enlisted you to find me because they knew you had a personal stake?”
“Makes sense,” he replied.
“Just like it makes sense you set me up in that alley.”
“I didn’t—”
She shook her head. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want me bad enough to fuck the devil if you had to. I would, if I were in your shoes.”
“All right,” he replied. “I planned a setup, but it wasn’t the guys in the alley.”
She lifted a brow. “Or what happened at Rayburn’s?”
His eyes darkened. “Charlie is a longtime friend. I wouldn’t use him, and I sure wouldn’t sacrifice his dog.”
“No,” she agreed, “but mistakes happen.” Her not heading straight for the Columbian village was a prime example.
“Last night, or Charlie’s place, isn’t my style,” Cole said through tight lips.
Jesse shrugged. “Have it your way.” She started to scoot from the booth.
Cole grabbed her wrist. “I found you, Jesse. That’s how they found you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jesse stared at Cole. “What?”
“Green Leader put me on the scent, then just sat back and waited.”
“You’re saying you found me on your own when Lanton with all his resources didn’t come close?”
“Lanton did find you; through me. Listen, Jess, you know what it’s like to lose a team member. But do you know what it’s like to lose a whole team?”
“Yeah,” she snapped.
“No,” he cut her off gentle, but firm. “You don’t. You’re outraged those men were murdered, but they weren’t your friends. You didn’t train with them, know them for years, watch them get married and have kids.” Cole’s mouth thinned. “You didn’t have to tell their wives, kids, and girlfriends they weren’t coming back. I wanted you even worse than I wanted those Columbians. I called in every favor I owed to me—and found you.”
She started to rebut, but he was right. If she’d been in his position, she would have found him. Hell, she was in his position. Nothing was going to stop her from proving Lanton’s guilt.
Cole slid his hand from her wrist to her fingers and gave them a squeeze. “You can still win, Jess.”
She startled, the thought that he’d read her mind freezing her brain for an instant, then she realized the idiocy of his statement and yanked free of his grasp. “Don’t tell me, you’re going to save me? Play me, and I’ll cut out your heart and leaving it on this table. I’m already dead. There’s nothing I can do to make it any worse.”
Cole stared back. “You want Lanton?”
“I’ll get Lanton.”
“Yeah? Why haven’t you?” Before she could answer, he added, “Because you’re not dead. Because you want to prove Lanton is responsible for Green Team’s death. You want your life back.”
“My life back?”
She would get Amanda to safety—somehow. But get her life back? Her heart sped up. Cole was right about one thing; he had found her, which meant Lanton had found her. And he had to be watching them right now.
Who was in the diner? The woman with the little girl, the little girl—
“Whoever is behind this knew I’d find you.” Cole’s voice jerked her attention back to him. “What they didn’t count on was that I’d see you in action. The person who sent Green Team into that village to be murdered wouldn’t have gone into that alley.”
Jesse stared in disbelief. “You’re saying my going into that alley proves I’m innocent?” She snorted. “For all you know last night was a performance.”
Cole studied her. “Was it?”
Jesse considered a glib remark, but answered, “No.”
The bell on the door tinkled again and a man entered.
“You say Lanton is our mole, but he let you get away,” Cole said. “What have you got to prove that Jess? What does he want from you?”
Here was the defining moment. The moment Lanton discovered the most damning evidence she had was his membership in DC’s exclusive Submissions BDSM club and a two million dollar account she had yet to connect to her or Perez, he would send every available assassin after her.
“You’re asking a lot,” she told Cole.
“Maybe,” he replied, his drawl pronounced. “But if you’re right about Lanton, then he’s wondering the same thing I am.”
“What I’ve got?”
Cole shook his head. “Why you’ve kept quiet.”
He was right, Lanton would wonder, which she prayed kept him terrified.
Cole scooted to the edge of his seat. “I’ll be back.”
He stood, then strode across the diner and down the short hallway leading to the restroom. The men’s room was at the end of the hall, directly in her line of sight. He opened the door and stepped inside. The little girl sitting at the counter squealed in delight. Jesse twisted to see the kid behind the counter placing a large banana split in front of the girl. Jesse started to turn back around then realized the man who entered a moment ago was gone, and she hadn’t seen him exit. She glanced down the hall toward the men’s room door where Cole had just disappeared.
Jesse rose and started for the front door. “My boyfriend’s in the bathroom,” she called to the waitress, who stood a couple tables away. “I’m just going out to the car for my purse.”
The waitress nodded as Jesse pushed open the door. She strolled nonchalantly past the diner window, then hurried along the wall to the end of the building. She stopped and looked back. Twenty feet of gravel and a battered chain-link fence divided the diner’s property from a dense thicket. Two cars were parked along the fence. Probably employees’. Jesse scanned the side of the building. Past the closed kitchen door, about halfway down the length of the building rested a large trash bin next to a window where the men’s room should be. She hurried past the door and trash bin and heard Cole’s voice.
“This is my mission,” he said. “Get out.”
Jesse crept forward. Loose gravel crunched under her shoes. She halted.
“Cool your jets,” a male voice responded. “She looked at me when I came in, then went back to talking to you. She doesn’t know me.”
Jesse’s heart skipped a beat. The diner was a setup?
“What do you want?” Cole demanded.
“Hey, we’re looking out for you, man.”
“I don’t like being watched,” Cole said.
“That’s the way it works,” the man replied.
“That’s not the way it works anymore.”
The man laughed. “You’re not in charge.”
“Green Leader doesn’t own me,” Cole said.
A door squeaked and Jesse realized Cole was leaving. She started to turn, but stopped when the man said, “Hold on there. I’ll make it worth your while.” The door squeaked again, and Jesse held her breath, praying Cole had closed the door while still inside the men’s room. If he glanced back and saw she wasn’t there he’d be out the door in a flash.
The man gave a low laugh. “Get me Lanton.”
Jesse tensed in the few seconds of silence before the man spoke again.
“It’s like you said.” He paused, then, “Take this number down. Seven, nine, three, six, two, two, seven. Catatonic, the secure code. Got it.”
Jesse committed the number to memory.
“Okay,” the man said and clicked the phone closed. “That’s the account at the International Bank of the Caymans, a hundred thousand for your trouble.”
Jesse’s heart fell. Cole is Lanton’s mole. She had started to believe his story.
“What do you want?” Cole asked.
“Get a confession.” He paused, then added, “by any means necessary.”
The bathroom door creaked as Cole said, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
Jesse choked back tears. Cole hadn’t led Lanton to her by accident. He worked for Green Leader. Had Cole truly been Green Team Leader, had he been there in Columbia, was he the sole survivor as he claimed? I didn’t matter. She whirled and sprinted to the fence. The pain of stitches ripping shot up her leg. She stubbed her toe on a rock, stumbled, but regained her balance. The fence sat six feet away. She lunged, grabbed the chain link, and vaulted over the fence. She dropped to the other side and dove into the foliage as Cole rounded the corner of the diner.
“Jess!” he shouted.
She crouched in the bushes as he jogged toward her. Too late to run, he would see and hear her if she moved. Fool, fool, fool, she cursed herself. Lanton, and Cole, had played her like a fine fiddle.
Cole continued around the corner of the building and skidded to a halt near the bathroom window.
He spun in frustration, echoing her words, “Jesse, you little fool!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jesse shifted in the chair at a cheap Newark, New Jersey, hotel, attention on the laptop monitor sitting on the table in front of her. The progress bar that moved across the screen indicated the funds from the Indian Ocean account she’d created were being transferred into another account which would disappear once the two hundred thousand from the Cayman account Lanton setup as her blood money moved into yet a third account.
The hope that she hadn’t miscalculated came too late. If OIA traced the money to her, it wouldn’t matter that the money’s final destination was the Philips and Rothman fund, a nonprofit organization that housed autistic kids with families without the money to care for them. OIA would proclaim her guilty of selling out Green Team, and Lanton would be given carte blanche to hunt and kill her.
Her stomach did a flip. The hundred thousand Lanton paid Cole was piggy backing on the two hundred grand. Twenty-four hours from now, the money would have funneled through eleven other accounts before falling off the face of the earth to find its way into Philips and Rothman. The idea to filch his payoff was the driving force that had goaded her into snagging the two hundred grand as well. Which only proved that, despite the fact he was Lanton’s boy, just thinking about him muddied the waters—and made her want to bawl like a baby.
She rubbed her sore eyes. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting from Westchester to Newark had taken her well into the afternoon. Setting up the money route had put her deep into the night. All she wanted now was a hot bath and a few hours—The Professor’s cell phone rang.
Jesse jerked her attention onto the phone sitting on the table beside the computer. The display read Cole Smith. Her pulse skipped a beat. Smith? His name was Smith? Jesse wanted to laugh. Hell. Mr. Smith had traced the bank transaction and, instead of bursting in, guns blazing, had called first—on a phone no one but she and The Professor knew existed. What would Emma Peel do? Be civilized, of course.
Jesse picked up the phone. “Hello, Cole.”
“Hi, Jess.”
She closed the laptop display as the hotel room door opened and Cole filled the doorway. He met her gaze, cell phone to his ear, then lowered the phone and closed it with a click. His other hand gripped a plastic drugstore bag.
“Like a bad penny,” she commented. Though she could deal with a little bad luck when it arrived in tig
ht jeans and a midnight blue, long sleeve, button down shirt.
He offered a lopsided grin that sent a flutter skittering across the inside of her stomach. He stepped into the room and she flicked a glance past him at the empty parking lot before he closed the door.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“I’m too tired to kick your ass,” Jesse said, and meant it. “How did you get my cell number?”
“I called Tom.”
“Tom?” she blurted.
Cole cut her off. “You weren’t compromised. He set up a blind relay to forward my call to your phone.”
Jesse’s mind raced. Why had Tom admitted to being in contact with her? Maybe he hadn’t. Lanton would love for her to believe she couldn't trust The Professor.
Jesse closed the phone and set it on the table. “Come on in," she said, "join the party.”
Cole ran his gaze down her body. She felt a stab of disappointment when he said, “You need to change the dressing.”
She sighed and glanced at her pant leg. Blood had seeped through her chinos in spots resembling splashed coffee stains. She had dressed the wound once in the ladies restroom at Penn Station, but it still ached. Cole was right, it needed attention, but she said, “It’s nothing.”
“Take off your pants and get on the bed.”
Jesse blinked, then laughed—hard.
Cole looked hurt. “You need the bandage changed.”
She hiccupped, tried to get out a word, but battled another fit of laughter before she managed, “This is too good.”
“I’m serious,” he said.
“I know.” She snorted a laugh. “That’s what makes it so funny.” Jesse motioned to the bag he carried, and said, “Even brought your own supplies, I see,” before howling again with laughter.
Cole crossed his arms over his chest and the bag bounced off his waist. He gave her a stern look, and Jesse made a valiant effort to push back her amusement. She felt her lip twitch, and he lifted both brows.
“Come on,” she said. “You have to admit you have nerve coming here like Mother Teresa.”
