Sherrilyn Kenyon - Whispered Lies

“I know.” Two small vertical lines broke the plane of Tee’s exotic face, which was part Vietnamese, the tiny change a serious sign of her frustration. “Gotthard is running a breakdown between the list of everyone preregistered and anyone who came through security who was not on that list.”

“Slipping in undetected would be hard to engineer.”

“Not if that person was SS or another national security agency.”

“What are you thinking?” Joe shoved his full attention to Tee now. She had the amazing ability to think not just outside the box, but to reach the outer limits of possibilities.

“We didn’t find out until after the viral attacks last year that a DEA agent had been working as a mole.”

“Brady. You think he’s involved?” Joe asked, trying to follow Tee’s thinking, which would be like keeping up with a beam of light at night.

“Not necessarily, but we are the only ones who know about the Fratelli and that he might be involved with them. We should consider everyone a suspect, even the Secret Service.”

“Good point.”

Hunter walked up to them, his eyes skimming the crowd, then settling on Joe and Tee. “Just got in. Gotthard is here, too. Korbin and Rae are inside the clinic in Switzerland, waiting for word to move. They’ve located three teens that match the ones we’re watching.”

Tee angled a perfectly shaped eyebrow the color of coal. “How could there be two sets of the same teens? We checked all the records. There isn’t a possibility of a twin or even a sibling of the same sex.”

“The tougher question is, which set of teens are the real ones and which set are fake?” Joe glanced at his watch. “We’ve only got thirty minutes before they address the energy committee. Who do Rae and Korbin have to back them up?” Joe had the best BAD agents available stateside covering this meeting inside and out.

“They have four contractors Retter set up before he disappeared.” Hunter thumbed a message on his cell phone as he spoke. “They’ll move to apprehend the teens in the clinic on your word.” He looked at Joe.

“Not yet. Those teens are safe for the moment. We have to determine what’s happening to this trio before we do anything there that might tip off whoever is behind this, whatever the hell this is.” Joe would kill for a drop of solid intel right now. Carlos had sent word the teens were definitely in danger and that this meeting was the true target, not the one in South America. He just didn’t know what the danger was, only that he believed the meeting in South America was a decoy.

And Carlos might be dead by now. Retter as well, so what the hell was going on in South America, too?

“We can’t help Retter and Carlos yet,” Tee said softly, reading Joe so easily it always surprised him. “As soon as this meeting is over or we’ve determined what is going on here, you and I will go after them. For now-” Her gaze shifted to the side, then she frowned. “What is she doing here?”

“Who?” Joe and Hunter asked together, turning their heads in the same direction.

“Silversteen, the DEA agent leading the search for Brady. Why would she be here or even in D.C. right now?”

“I don’t know.” Joe studied the sleek form of Josie Silversteen slipping through the crowd.

“Let’s find out what official capacity she’s here under.” Tee lifted her cell phone, tiny fingers typing in a blur. Hands that knew how to kill a man in more ways than Joe wanted to count. She paused, typed again, paused, and raised a suspicious gaze to him. “Silversteen is supposed to be on leave today. Her office has her listed as being in Miami.”

“Wonder if she knows something she isn’t sharing with anyone else?” Joe said quietly. “She has a reputation of not playing well with others.”

“Neither do I,” Tee muttered, then flashed a wicked look at Joe. “I’m going to find out what she knows. Think you can handle this without me?”

Joe sighed. “I would say be careful, but I’d only mean for you to be careful not to kill her.”

Tee patted his cheek. “Flattery will get you a night at the Ryman when we go home.” She tugged on the bottom of her jacket as if straightening her armor for battle.

Joe ignored the tease about the building housing his favorite Grand Ole Opry entertainment in Nashville and snagged Tee by the arm. At the flash of anger in her eyes for being detained, he whispered, “Be careful. Really.”

His codirector nodded, then moved away, her body moving with liquid grace.

Hunter said, “Everyone’s in place. Twenty minutes to go.”

“Let’s hope this Linette hasn’t steered us wrong.” Joe scanned the room once more, his gaze settling on the three teens and the Collupy woman. “Are Jake and Jeremy back?”

“Yes, I told them to wait at Reagan Airport. Figured once this was over we were taking our best people to South America.”

“That’s the plan.” Not much of one since Joe doubted they’d get to Carlos and Retter before the agents were killed.

JOSIE FLASHED HER ID at one of the armed security guards overseeing the flood of people and teenagers being checked in and out of today’s meeting in the hearing.

“I feel for you guys having to deal with so many physically challenged kids. Has to be a nightmare getting everyone scanned. You deserve bonus pay.”

“Like that’s going to happen.” The closest security guard with a military buzz cut and buff physique to back up that dangerous look allowed a grin. He reviewed her ID and checked her off his list of approved law enforcement, noting the time she exited, then waved her on. “Have a good day.”

She smiled, planning on an excellent day. Now that she’d confirmed the three teenagers and Kathryn Collupy were in place, Josie was on her way to a spot close enough to observe but not be affected by the blast. Keying in three phone numbers on her cell phone would trigger detonators for C-4 packed inside long, narrow tubes the teenagers had unknowingly passed through security.

Scientists in Fratelli labs had successfully tested the solid tubes of C-4 in security scanners identical to those here, then integrated the tubes into the prosthetic and wheelchair structures. The detonator had been camouflaged in the prosthetic mechanism and within the wheelchair design.

In less than an hour, the U.S. power structure would be crippled beyond belief. No one had ever considered the possibility of losing the sitting president, vice president, the next four directly in line to the presidency, and the other presidential candidate a week before Tuesday’s polling.

This country would turn to number six in the government hierarchy, the secretary of the treasury, a Hispanic man with a spotless record who would be duly shocked by his new position. His opportune trip to Columbia would be called a miracle by some who would believe he was just one lucky bastard. From the ashes of a chaotic country desperate for a new president, he would show leadership in the interim that would prove him to be the best candidate once elections were resumed.

In spite of a twenty-two-year career in politics spent maneuvering himself into a position where he’d be appointed by the current administration, the man who would step into the president’s shoes was truly neither left-wing nor right-wing.

Josie smiled over the brilliant plan for putting a Fratelli in the White House.

TEE SHADOWED JOSIE two blocks from the congressional meeting. Her target entered an office building and passed up the elevator for the stairwell.

At the third floor, Josie went through a doorway to a hall that was very empty for a D.C. office building. Tee made a mental note to have someone research the offices rented along the hallway, but she’d bet every agreement would lead back to the same renter, who would be nonexistent by the time they located an address.