Firewall (15 page)

10:06 P.M. TUESDAY

Taryn startled in her sleep. What had she heard? She opened her eyes to a dark room. Memories of being in the bed-rest area of the FBI’s health services unit brushed across her mind. The nurse had assured her no one would bother her.

The doorknob twisted, and a small ray of light from the hall filtered in. Who was there? Why hadn’t she insisted on Buddy joining her? She struggled for her foggy head to clear, the effects of the pain meds dulling her senses.

A hand clasped over her mouth. Unable to breathe, she felt panic whip through her. Murford! He’d managed to get inside the building. Overpowered the agents to get to her. She understood his plan
 
—he’d attempt to learn what he could and then slit her throat like he’d done to Claire.

He would not win this easily. She peeled back his fingers, then snapped them. As he twisted, she jammed her elbow upward into his groin. He jumped back. Survival ruled her actions, but she couldn’t see in the utter blackness.

The click of his gun stopped her.

“That’s right, Miss Taryn. I have the upper hand here. All your fancy self-defense doesn’t do piddly when a gun’s aimed at you.”

Vince.

“What’s this about?”

“You and I are going to walk out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You have no choice. Do you want that kid to live or not?”

Her heart thudded against her chest while all the mental techniques learned in hapkido vanished. “Where?”

“You’ll find out.”

“If I cooperate, then Zoey will be released?”

“Yes.”

She could get the edge on him, but what if that ruined her chances with Zoey? Another thought blasted against her head. If she could take him, Grayson could force him to reveal it all.

“I have Murford on speed dial. If he doesn’t hear from me soon, the kid’s dead.”

Wouldn’t having a bad guy’s number on speed dial be used against him? She took a deep breath.

“I know your IQ. I have more than one burner phone.”

She had no choice. At least this way Zoey had a chance. “I’m a little dizzy.”

“Get over it.” He stepped back from the door. “You lead the way to the entrance where you arrived.”

“Why, Vince? You’re an FBI agent. Did Murford offer you that much money?”

“Shut up. Not another word.”

“My shoes.”

“You won’t need them.”

She obeyed, making her way slowly down the hall toward the double doors leading to the rear parking lot.

“Hey, Agent Bradshaw,” said the nurse, a kind woman who’d told Taryn all about her two sons, “Ms. Young isn’t in any shape to assist you.”

“The big boss needs her. Once he’s finished, one of us will bring her back.”

The nurse smiled and bid them good night.

Outside, the stale, hot air seemed to suck the life out of her. Vince walked beside her. She wanted to flatten him. . . .

“My car’s to the left,” he said.

Headlights whipped into the parking lot. Joe’s T-Bird. One man emerged.

“Don’t try a thing,” Vince said. “I have nothing to lose here.”

“Put the gun down,” Joe said.

“Don’t think so.”

“Let Taryn go, and we’ll talk about this.”

Vince jammed the gun into her temple. “Move. Now.”

Joe walked closer, and she sensed Vince was nervous.

“Do you really want her brains splattered?” Vince said.

“The odds aren’t on your side. You shoot her, and you’re done.”

Taryn considered gaining the edge, but would he have a split-second advantage?

Someone knocked Vince’s gun from his hand. It fired, and she fell. The person shoved him to the ground and cuffed him.

“You’re under arrest,” Grayson said.

“His phone,” she said. “He said Zoey would be killed if I didn’t go with him.”

Grayson yanked two phones from Vince’s pocket, his BlackBerry and a burner. “Nothing on either phone.”

“You lied to me.” Red-hot anger swirled through her. “You have no idea where to find Zoey.”

12:30 A.M. WEDNESDAY

Grayson and Joe viewed Vince through the one-way glass outside the interview room. They’d waited before questioning him, hoping he’d think through what his charges meant to his future. Vince waved at them as if he could see them, giving his familiar sneer. He’d been where they observed him, formed the questions, and experienced the same frustration at the sight of a guilty man. FBI protocol was a game for Vince, but he’d already lost.

“You’ve known him longer than I have,” Grayson said. “Why has he requested a lawyer and yet agreed to the interview without counsel?”

Joe studied Vince. “Everything about him spells contempt. Somewhere along the line, life jolted him, and he’s blaming the FBI.”

“His bank account indicates Murford paid him well. Money hits his greedy spot.”

“I think there’s more.”

“I’m not following you.”

“His son, Aaron, has type 1 diabetes and lives with Vince. The kid’s nearly thirty. Way back when Vince and I worked together, his whole life was his son and his health. We can start there.”

“You lead out,” Grayson said. “I might get a little blood on his jacket.”

“Put aside the personal stuff and concentrate on what Vince can tell us. Look how he’s slouched in the chair. He’s angry. Didn’t think he’d get caught.” He pointed to his former partner. “Or maybe he wanted to get caught, and that’s why he wants to talk without his attorney.”

“But then we can’t use anything in court.”

“Who cares, so long as we find out how to end this. I’ll come across as the retired agent who saw the good and the bad in the bureau.”

Joe was a legend type of agent. His tactics might have been a little off the wall, but he got results. Right now, results were what mattered. Joe stepped into the room first.

“If it isn’t Batman and his sidekick farm boy. Is this the best the FBI can offer? I was expecting waterboarding.”

Joe smiled while he and Grayson took seats across from Vince. “Is that any way to talk to an old friend?”

“We were never friends. The FBI isn’t a country club. For the record, I don’t have any friends here.”

Grayson stuffed his anger and replaced it with an intense
scrutiny of Vince’s body language. As usual, the man attempted to gain control of a situation with caustic remarks. Hard to think of him as ever being a decent agent.

“You were a dedicated agent when you joined the bureau,” Joe said. “You were an outstanding agent. Remember the cases we worked together back when? We solved some tough ones in our time. I think Aaron was still in diapers then.”

“Right. I figure all I ever accomplished was sleepless nights and watching bad guys hit the streets again.”

“You and I ended crime sprees, put perps in jail for a long time.”

“Where’re our medals?”

“Remember the serial murder case on the southeast side? We worked it for six months.”

“I’m done risking my life for a government that doesn’t give a lick. Never got me anywhere.”

“Yes, it did. Commendations. Respect.”

“You got me confused with another agent. All I ever received was lousy pay and then farm boy for a partner my last year in.”

His disillusionment made him an easy target for Murford.

“What happened to turn you sour?” Joe said. “I’ve got a few bones to pick with the bureau too.”

“None of your business.” Vince leaned back in the chair.

“You’re right. I should have kept in touch. Been a better partner. How’s Aaron?”

“He’s fine. Leave him out of this.” Vince’s face hardened.

Grayson made a mental note to check on Aaron’s background.

Joe loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. “Remember when we were outnumbered on that weapons case and couldn’t get backup? You and I were left to die.”

A flicker of empathy touched Vince’s face. “We’re just machines sent to get a job done without adequate funds and manpower.”

“Don’t I know it. I still wake up at night in a cold sweat with it all.”

Vince nodded. “I should have got out a long time ago. Before I let it turn me into this.”

“How’d you get caught up in the airport bombing?” Joe said.

Vince gave a blank look. “No deal, Joe.”

“Work with me here. This doesn’t look good. I want to help.”

Vince clapped his hands slowly three times. “Good job, but I’m not buying it. You almost had me fooled. Nothing else from me until I talk to my lawyer.”

“Once Jose Pedraza learned you were arrested, he cut a deal,” Grayson said.

Vince straightened. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. He cooperated. Something he said was real interesting.” Grayson paused. “His job was to kill you, but he got shot. He said you’d lost your value.”

“Liar.”

“Hmm. Pedraza spoke of a contract. . . . They just need to find you. The sad part is you’re only worth two grand. Every ganger out there will be looking for Special Agent Vince Bradshaw.”

“I’ve used those same tactics.”

“We can let you talk to Pedraza. But he won’t be in custody long with the deal his lawyer worked out.”

Vince glared. “You’re really stupid if you think I’d believe that line of bull.”

Grayson smiled. “By the way, did Murford advance you enough to take care of Aaron after you’re gone?”

Vince’s silence confirmed he’d been shorted.

Joe cleared his throat. “You don’t do your son any good dead. You can’t get his medication or clear your name.”

“I want my lawyer.”

Grayson stood. “I’ll make sure he gets a call as soon as his office opens.” He walked to the door and swung his attention to Vince. “Have you considered Murford could take out his vengeance on Aaron? I doubt a ganger cares if it’s Bradshaw senior or junior as long as he collects his due.”

“Are you sure this is the way you want to end your career?” Joe said as though he were talking to an old friend.

“I’m sure.”

“A lawyer won’t stop the charges, but a little truth could go a long way in the sentencing.”

Vince blew out his scorn. He nodded at Grayson. “I told you not to mess with Taryn Young. She’ll get you killed.”

NEW YORK

2:50 A.M. EASTERN, WEDNESDAY

I hear Breckon’s dead. Pedraza and Bradshaw are in custody. Murford got away. That man’s like a cat. Too bad he isn’t as cunning or he wouldn’t have tried to double-cross me. Three months ago I took care of his two slackers to get his attention. He’s an idiot on a short leash. What he doesn’t know is I have an expert hacker working on the problem. We’ll get the info we need and finish this. One way or another.

Bradshaw can only point to Murford. Glad I gave Murford the agent’s name, a loser looking for money.

I tap my chin. . . . What if I play desperate? Helpless? This temporary setback could put that weasel in the palm of my hand.

I dial Murford’s number. He hasn’t answered in the past several hours, but his ego might be ready for an adrenaline boost.

“Hey, are you seething?” Murford laughs, and I want to scratch his eyes out.

I put my kill mode in check. “Not really. You conducted business just as I expected. I’m in trouble with this. Things are spinning out of control without access to the software.”

“I hear the misery. But I know you’re not out of resources.”

“But you can help me. We can work through our differences.”

“Take it somewhere else. I’m right where I need to be.”

I’ll see him suffer for the trouble he’s causing. “Look, you know I wouldn’t be calling if a lot of money wasn’t at stake.”

“And I plan to collect it all.”

“Your greed will get you killed.”

He laughs again, and I hate the sound of it. “I’m covered, Iris,” he says. “This is one time you lose.”

“Don’t think so. You have a private party scheduled for Friday with no hors d’oeuvres.”

“You just want to be the only guest.”

My blood pressure escalates. “I
am
the only guest. Look, Murford, you don’t have access to Nehemiah. In fact, the old software is running. Neither do you have Taryn Young. Now you might have an idea or two, but you’ve exhausted balloons and party favors. I know your every move, which means your utter failures. Team members killed and arrested. You’re running out of options. So I suggest we work together, and we’ll both make money. I intend to sell Nehemiah, and we’ll make a profit.”

“What’s your plan?”

I’ve hit his hot button. “Lure Young away from the FBI with talk about the kid. She’s senseless when it comes to her. Use it. Have you gotten rid of the brat?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not? She’s costing you time and money. Where is she?” I know the answer, but I want to hear his response.

“Tucked away.”

Right. “I know how to dispose of the body if you can’t stomach it.”

“I have it under control.”

“Look, you nab Young, and I’ll take over the situation from there.”

“Not so fast. I’ll get the info and let you know.”

He deserves a slow death, and I hate his condescending tone. “All right. I’ll wait until I hear from you. How long will it be?”

“Your boss man must be crawling up your rear.”

I consider his comment . . . purposely.

“Your hesitation tells me you’re crying for my help.”

Leapfrog. “I’ll make it worth your trouble.”

I disconnect the call and hope Murford has fallen for my ploy. He knows what our boss can do and has done. A smart man would be scrambling to please.

Time to pull an ace out of the deck. I press in a number.

“Busy?” I say.

His breathless words indicate he’s with a woman. “I am.”

“We have to talk now.”

He curses, but he’ll get over it. A moment later I hear a door shut and running water. “What is it?”

“Follow Murford. See what he’s up to. Understand? Time is running out.”

“I’m busy.”

“Not when I’m paying for the champagne.”

He curses again. “I’ll call when I have something.”