Deadly Dance (29 page)

“I thought that…” Harrison broke off, not wanting to break her confidence.

“She’s never really talked about it.” Avery shook his head. “But the CIA does a pretty thorough background check on all applicants. And coming into A-Tac means even more scrutiny. I just never saw a reason to let her in on how much I know.”

“But you’re telling me.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” Avery said, his smile gentle for such a big man. “She did. I’m not blind, Harrison. And as I said, I’ve known her a long time. So you’ll watch out for her? No matter how much she resents you for doing so?”

It was Harrison’s turn to smile. “You do know her well.”

“All right, then,” Avery said, with a tight nod. “And for the record, this conversation never happened.”

“What conversation?” Harrison shrugged as he watched the big man walking away, for the first time feeling as if he were really a part of the team. He’d been lucky in his life. He’d had the opportunity to work with a lot of really amazing people. But he wasn’t sure that he’d really felt like he belonged. Not since Bree died. But maybe in A-Tac, he’d finally found a home.

The thought was comforting, and he wondered when he’d started letting emotion rule his life. But then he thought of Nash with his son, Adam. Or Drake and his excitement over Madeline’s pregnancy. Maybe it was okay to need other people. Or maybe it was just about protecting family. And Hannah was family. Whether she liked it or not.

Shaking his head, he walked back into the computer room. Hannah was sitting at a console, staring up at the screen over her head, an image of Tina frozen on the screen.

“You’re just torturing yourself,” he said, moving over to sit beside her.

“I know,” she sighed. “But the only way we’re going to find her is if we study the video. It’s the only lead we’ve got.”

“So have you found anything?” They’d already been over the thing more times than he could count, but so far there was nothing to give them enough to identify a location.

“Nothing new. He’s really been careful with his angles. The only thing we can see is the bed and the wall behind it. And that’s just white plasterboard, which could be anywhere.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Where’ve you been?” she asked with a frown.

“With Avery. He had some things he wanted to talk about.”

“He asked you to watch over me,” she said, swiveling her chair to face him.

He held back a smile. Hannah never missed a thing. “He’s just worried about you. We all are.”

“I know. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, too.
It’s just that as long as he’s got Tina, I don’t think I’m in any real danger.” She paused, looking down at her hands, something she often did when she was nervous. “Anyway, I’m okay with you watching over me.”

“Really? I actually thought you’d be pissed. I mean you were pretty clear back at the apartment.”

“I was an idiot,” she said, raising her gaze to his, her eyes apologetic. “I was upset and afraid. And I lashed out. I know you were just trying to be kind.”

“Kind?” Harrison repeated. “Are you kidding me? It was a hell of a lot more than that, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do. And that’s what scares me. I told you before I don’t want to need you. I don’t want to need anybody. But I…” She bit her lip, clearly struggling with the words. “… I can’t seem to help myself.” She smiled and shrugged, looking so uncomfortable and irresistible it was everything he could do not to pull her into his arms right then and there.

“Maybe you don’t need help,” Harrison said. “Maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Scary?”

“No. Well, maybe.” It was his turn to smile. “Look, I said it before, this is all new to me. We’re in uncharted waters. And I’ll admit that can be a little frightening. Especially for people like us.”

“CIA operatives?”

“Well, I was actually thinking people with our kind of baggage, but you’ve got a point. I mean, we’ve spent our whole careers being told not to trust anything we can’t quantify.”

“So how are we supposed to know if what we feel is real?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’re just supposed to trust it. Take a leap of faith. Hell, I’m the last person to be advising you about this. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I meant what I said before, I don’t want to walk away. I want you in my life.”

“Even if it turns out that we’re just supposed to be friends?” she asked.

“Are you saying that’s what you want?”

“No.” She shook her head so quickly that he felt a rush of relief. “I just want to know that if things don’t work out that we’ll still have—”

“—our computers?” he quipped.

“You know what I mean,” she said, her expression turning serious.

“I do. And as much as I want to promise you that nothing will change, I can’t. It already has, Hannah. So the only thing we can do is plow forward.”

“You make it sound so romantic.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve already established that I’m not always good with words. What I’m trying to say is that I know this is scary. And I have no idea how things will turn out. But I want to give this a chance. And I want you to give it a chance, too.”

“Okay,” she said, eyes wide as if she’d just taken a leap into the deep end. “It’s not as if I really have anything else to do anyway.”

He laughed and pulled her chair closer, planting a kiss on her lips—feeling as if he’d won the fucking lottery. For a moment it was just the two of them, and then a computer alarm sounded and reality came crashing back in.

He held her gaze for a moment and then turned his
chair back to his console. Whatever the hell the future held for them, it wouldn’t be good as long as Walker was out there and Hannah was a target.

He glanced up at the screen, searching for the source of the insistent beeping, but there was nothing on any of his computers. “It’s not me,” he said, swiveling back to look at her. “Were you running something?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, staring down at the screen on her computer, shaking her head. “Walker’s voiceprint. From Jasmine’s mpeg. The computer found a match. And you’re never going to believe where it came from.”

“Okay, so what have you got?” Avery asked, striding into the war room followed by Drake and Simon.

“Something that’s going to blow your mind,” Harrison responded, exchanging a glance with Hannah.

“As you know,” Hannah began, enjoying the moment, even though the news she had to impart was indeed a bombshell, “Harrison tried to find a match for the voiceprint we took off the mpeg from Jasmine’s murder.”

“Yeah, and he came up with bubkes,” Simon said with a frown.

“Well, on the off chance of finding something, I took the print and ran it against wiretaps we had running on open investigations. I realize it was a long shot, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“And you got a hit,” Avery prompted.

“Three actually. All from the same source.” She waited a beat, all four of her team members waiting—the anticipation building. “Turns out we’ve got Walker on tape talking to Alain DuBois. Twice in his office and once on his cellphone. He was using another alias. But
there’s no question it’s him. I ran additional tests for verification and got a conclusive match.”

“Son of a bitch,” Drake said. “So Walker works for the Consortium.”

“Looks that way. Or at least he has dealings with them,” Harrison said. “After Hannah showed me what she’d found, I ran a couple of checks, and I can put DuBois in England and Geneva at the times Walker was there. It’s not enough to tie DuBois into the bombing or the assassination attempt in Vienna, but it’s definitely a red flag for possible Consortium involvement.”

“What were the phone calls about?” Drake asked.

“On the surface, they were too vague to put any significance on,” Hannah said. “But when you put them in context with everything that’s happened here, they take on new meaning.”

“In the first conversation, dated a month ago, DuBois is talking to Walker about a problem they need cleaned up,” Harrison continued. “There’s no reference to what the problem is. But DuBois specifically says that it’s time to put an end to certain rivals. And when Walker asks how, DuBois says that he’s working on it, but that the solution needs to be creative because previous attempts to eliminate the problem have met with failure.”

“I’ll admit that under the circumstances, it’s pretty damn tempting to read something into that—like the attack on my wife and sister-in-law.” Drake shook his head, looking skeptical. “But there’s nothing there to corroborate the assumption.”

“Not in the first conversation, no,” Hannah said. “But listen to this.” She hit a key and DuBois’s voice filled the room.

“So I have a little proposition,”
DuBois said.
“And I think you’ll find it’s right up your alley. I’ve found an intersection between your problems and ours. In the process of researching personnel involved with the problem we discussed, I’ve uncovered a tragic incident I think we can use to our advantage. Tragedy always breeds fear. And fear has a way of undoing even the most strong-minded. Especially when it comes back to haunt you.”

“So how do I play into this tragedy?”

“You’re going to recreate it.”

There was a rustling sound and then Walker’s voice replaced DuBois’s.
“You’re serious? What about collateral damage?”

“There’s a cost to everything. But what we stand to gain is far more important than a few casualties. And besides, I’ve known you a long time, my friend. And I’m more than aware of your particular talents as well as your predilections. I’m sure you won’t find the task too onerous. And besides, as I said, there’s a connection to you.”

Again the sound of shuffling paper filled the hidden microphone.

“You’re sure?”
Walker asked.

“Positive. The proof is in the folder. This is your chance to even the score. For Timothy. So can I count on you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

The tape stopped.

“It ends there.” Hannah said. “The last conversation was taken off DuBois’s cellphone. It’s a verification that the project is on track and that Walker is en route. The call originated from a throwaway cell about seventy-five miles from here. Five days ago.”

“Son of a bitch,” Drake said again, clearly at a loss for words.

“So who’s Timothy?” Avery asked. “And what connection does he have with us?”

“Not us,” Harrison corrected. “Me. Timothy Allen was a suspect in a rape case I worked my first year out of Quantico. There’d been a series of rapes occurring in New Jersey and New York, and they seemed to be tied together, so the FBI was called in. The primary suspect was a seventeen-year-old kid. The evidence was circumstantial, but pretty damning. So we went in to make the arrest.”

“In Kingston, I’m guessing,” Avery interjected, as usual one step ahead of the game.

“Yeah. Anyway, we rushed the house, and in the commotion the kid, Timothy, tried to make a break for it. I cornered him and he drew a gun on me. I tried to talk him down, but he took a shot, and I was forced to take mine. He died in the hospital a few days later. He never admitted his guilt. But the rapes stopped.”

“It took a little digging,” Hannah added, her eyes on Harrison, “but it turns out that Timothy Allen was John Walker’s half-brother.”

“That’s why he jumped at the opportunity to recreate Harrison’s worst nightmare,” Simon said.

“He wanted revenge.” Hannah nodded. “But I’m guessing it was also about guilt. I read the rape reports, and there are some serious similarities to the murders here. The inability to perform leading to a stand-in for actual penetration. The cutting after the act. It’s all there. The victims were even college girls. The only real difference is that those women are still alive.”

“But if it was Walker, then why did the rapes stop?” Drake asked. “I thought these guys couldn’t control the urge.”

“Most of them can’t,” Harrison said. “But sometimes they find other outlets.”

“Like killing for hire.” Avery leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “I can see that there’s a similar power rush in instigating a terrorist attack.”

“And along the way, he’d have developed a taste for the kill,” Hannah added. “Then along comes DuBois with an offer Walker probably thought too good to be true. The perfect storm, as it were.”

“The ultimate target being to burn A-Tac,” Drake said.

“Exactly. And the easiest way to get us off their backs is to force us out from undercover.” Avery’s expression was grim.

“And attacking the campus is the perfect way to do it,” Hannah said, continuing the line of thought. “As the press coverage of the killings grows, there will be questions that could lead to an investigation into our role in all of this.”

“Ultimately leading to our being exposed as CIA,” Drake concluded, his anger barely contained. “Which puts an end not only to A-Tac, but to our careers as well.”

“And on a bigger scale,” Avery said, “our outing would throw the CIA into defensive mode as the political stratum starts to question the validity of using operatives to teach America’s best and brightest. It would jam Langley up for years.”