Sins of the Titanic (A James Acton Thriller, #13) (22 page)

But now
Sherrie filled the void that had always been there. She was gorgeous, way out
of his league, yet she had fallen for him while on assignment. Assignment to
test his loyalty to the CIA, to test his ability to keep his mouth shut about
the things he knew when faced with the greatest temptation possible.

Her.

And he
had passed.

She had
asked to be reassigned before the ultimate test, the feelings she had developed
unexpected, but she had been refused. When he had discovered the truth, in a
rather embarrassing fashion, he hadn’t wanted to ever see her again.

But Kane
had brought them back together, and the rest was history. They were now living
together and their relationship continued to grow, despite the ever-watchful
eye of their security detail made necessary by their involvement in foiling an
attempt by an ancient organization called The Assembly to start a war with
North Korea.

It had
been stopped, yet at great cost, and the end of their private lives.

It was
only when they were alone in the apartment they could be themselves.

And God
did he love it.

Sherrie
turned around, bending over to pick up her hat, her buttocks making the perfect
shape of a heart, reminding him of the purported true origin of the heart
symbol now known the world over.

Something
stirred, Sherrie looking back at him, still bent over.

“See
something you like, big boy?”

He
grinned sheepishly. “Umm, yeah, Game of Thrones is starting. You’re blocking
the screen.”

She
looked at his crotch. “I don’t think you’re one hundred percent committed to
the television. She spun around, doing a little dance with the hat covering her
most private parts.

Leroux
turned off the TV.

His
phone vibrated.

He
glanced at it, his eyes narrowing. “It’s work.”

“Awww!”

Sherrie
plopped on the couch beside him as he flicked his finger across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey
boss, priority tasking. We need you.”

Leroux
sighed, recognizing Marc Therrien’s voice, a member of his staff working the
night shift. “Okay, call in the team, I’m on my way.”

“Hope I
didn’t interrupt anything too important. See you soon.”

Leroux
ended the call, looking down at what Sherrie was gripping.

No,
it wasn’t too important. But gawd it was bad timing.

“Sorry,
hon, but I’ve got to go.”

She
squeezed harder.

“Hon,
you’re just making this harder than it has to be!” he pleaded as he texted the
security detail outside.

“That’s
the idea, silly!” He gave her the stink eye and she laughed, letting go. “Okay,
but you’re going to be frustrated all night.” She struck a suggestive pose.
“Quickie?”

His
pants were off in seconds.

Acton & Palmer Residence, St. Paul, Maryland

“Wow, that was fast!”

Acton
pointed at the phone and mouthed, “Dylan”. It hadn’t even been half an hour
since he had sent the emergency message to the number Kane had given him,
stored in the phone under his reversed initials, KD, or Kraft Dinner. Kane had
been an average student when he had taught him, he genuinely interested in
archeology, though not sure of what he wanted to do with his life.

That is
until 9/11.

Then he
knew for certain.

The
young man had sought his counsel and he had been happy to give it, he himself
former National Guard. He had encouraged the man to follow his heart, it his opinion
that a military career was always an excellent choice.

He had
never envisioned him becoming a spy for the CIA however, and had been shocked
to learn the truth.

Yet
thankful he had, his help proving invaluable on numerous occasions.

Including,
perhaps, tonight.

“You
caught me between assignments. I read your message and I’m a little concerned.
It’s probably nothing, this Captain may be a thief or an opportunist, who
knows, but that security alert is what is setting off my alarm bells.”

“Yeah,
that’s what I was concerned about as well. Can I put you on speaker? Laura,
Greg, Sandra, Mai and Tommy are here. I trust them all.”

“Go
ahead, Doc.”

Acton
placed the call on speaker and put the phone down on the table. “Okay, you’re
on speaker. Is there any way to trace who received the alert?”

“Probably,
but it will take some doing.”

“Someone
with Dark Web access?”

A
chuckle came through the speaker. “Where did you hear about that, Doc?”

“From
Tommy Granger, he’s one of our whiz kid grad students.”

Tommy
blushed, Mai looked almost proud.

“Granger?
The one who hacked the DoD mainframe?”

“Umm,
yeah,” mumbled Tommy, now definitely embarrassed.

“You’ve
got skills, bro. Let’s just hope you put them to good use from now on.”

Tommy’s
chin dropped to his chest. “Yes, sir.”

Mai
squeezed his hand.

Tommy
brightened.

Wow!
There’s definitely something there.

The hand
darted away.

“So,
Dark Web, huh. Well, it’s possible, and if whoever set this up is using it,
then it will be much more difficult to trace, but not impossible. The problem
is you might just trace it to a dead end. What they’ll sometimes do is have
their data sent to a specific IP address, the customized hardware at that
location will then grab that data, reroute it somewhere, perhaps through a hard
line not even connected to the Internet, and then at the receiving end someone
is notified. Once used, they never use it again, scrapping the hardware or
wiping the software. It depends on how covert they want to go.”

“We’re
assuming pretty deep. This seems to be a conspiracy going back a century that
someone still cares about.”

“Perhaps,
but sometimes the simplest explanation is the most obvious. The Navy might have
had a legit reason for monitoring for that particular search. Maybe it had
nothing to do with Wainwright and was just the word Titanic that made them
curious. It could be as simple as the system thinking he was using it for
unauthorized purposes, just trolling the records, and clamped down on him.”

Acton’s
phone vibrated on the table with a news alert, the notification bar at the top
of the screen giving the first few words.

Congressman
Mahoney Dies in Car Accident.

“Jesus,”
muttered Acton, grabbing the phone.

“What?”
asked Kane.

“You
remember in the message I told you that Steve Wainwright had met with his Congressman,
and it was
he
who had called the records office?”

“Yeah,
why?”

“Congressman
Mahoney just died in a car accident. I just got the news flash on my phone.”

“Okay,
Doc. That changes everything. Do you have a gun?”

Acton
felt his chest tighten, the mood of the entire table immediately changing.

“Yes.”

“Get it.
I’m sending help.”

Operations Center Charlie
The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina

“Hey BD, I’ve got some intel for you.”

Master
Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme scanned the screen as he fed the executive summary to
Dawson. “We ran this Peter Quaid for you on a separate network. Born April 7
^th
,
1962, both parents deceased, only child, inherited his father’s business at age
twenty-eight, a microchip design company named Silidev. Looks like they make chips
for all the big boys like Boeing, GE, Lockheed, NASA, the big three.”

“Any red
flags on the file?”

“Just
one that I can see. He apparently has significant investments in Russia.”

“Christ,
I knew I should have run him.”

“Hindsight’s
always twenty-twenty. He’s their biggest financial backer, how the hell were
you supposed to know?”

“If
anything happens to Jones, tell that to the inquest.” He could hear Dawson sigh
on the other end. “Any unusual banking activity? Anything that might suggest
why he might be kidnapped with Jones?”

“I don’t
have that data yet. Langley’s coming online now. I’m hoping to have some more
intel for you shortly. Anything on your end?”

“Negative.
We’ve confirmed that one of the hostiles was shot, but there’s no body so
either he walked out or was carried out. Check the local hospitals, but I doubt
you’ll find anything.”

“Descriptions?”

“Yeah.
All white males, around six feet tall, all athletic builds with short hair,
dark suits and sunglasses.”

“So no
use.”

“No. The
civilians only saw the guns, two agents were down in seconds, the other four
down a few seconds later. This op was executed quickly and effectively. These
were pros who risked their own lives to not kill their target. They could have
come out shooting with SMGs but they didn’t.”

“But
wouldn’t they know their target was in his room?”

Dawson
grunted. “Only if they have someone on the inside.”

“Do you
think they do?”

“There’s
huge money and huge stakes here so nothing would surprise me. I’ve confiscated
all cellphones just in case.”

The door
to the Op Center opened and Colonel Clancy entered, his eyes scanning the
screens then coming to rest on Red. “Colonel’s here, I’ll get back to you in
fifteen.”

“Roger
that.”

Red
ended the call, turning to the Colonel. “Sorry to disturb you, Colonel.”

“Sergeant,
you just saved me from an evening with my sister-in-law. If it weren’t against
protocol, I’d kiss you so hard you’d forget you were married.”

Red
grinned. “Thank God for protocols, sir.”

Clancy
nodded toward the screens. “Report.”

Red
began to bring the Colonel up to date as the screens slowly started to flash
over to the Langley feeds.

Let’s
hope Leroux can come through for us!

Operations Center Four
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Leroux entered the Operations Center, completely relaxed and free of
tension, a smile on his face. It had been the true definition of a quickie,
almost reminiscent of his first couple of times with Sherrie. Almost. This time
he was pretty sure she had gotten something out of it too other than the
realization she was dealing with a rank amateur in the boudoir.

Have
fun super stud!

He
stifled a grin at her parting words.

“Report.”

Therrien
stepped forward, remote control in hand as he flashed through the briefing
describing the non-lethal attack in New Orleans and the kidnapping of the
current front-runner for the Presidency, Christopher Jones. “Any leaks?”

“None
yet. Press and local LEOs seem quiet. Secret Service had the floor sealed off
anyway so hotel staff aren’t allowed on without permission. Mr. Jones had no
more appointments for the day so until tomorrow morning, no one will be missing
him.”