Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“Where are we?”

Savard deferred to Felicia, who had the most expertise in terms of computer investigation. Felicia shrugged.

“Between the files at Quantico I’ve been able to access and our own scans of Matheson’s academy records, we have solid IDs on all four of the gunmen at the Aerie. We have names for the faces now and we’re digging deeper.”

“What does that give us in terms of Matheson’s connection to the Company and Valerie’s handler?”

Felicia shook her head. “Nothing yet. These men were all too young to be contemporaries of anyone who might have recruited Valerie.”

Savard said, “If Valerie was recruited as a teenager, then we’re probably looking at someone Matheson’s age as her handler.” She spread her hands in frustration. “He could be anyone.”

“We have to work from the assumption that Valerie’s handler and Matheson are tied together. It may turn out that they’re not, but that’s a more probable scenario than postulating that Valerie’s contact within the Company reported the plans for the raid on Matheson’s compound to someone else who then relayed the message to Matheson.” Cam stood up and walked to the window, rolling her shoulders and trying to work out some of the stiffness from the previous week’s injuries and the tension of poring through files all day. The first floor of the main house was alight, and she wondered what Blair was doing. “I don’t believe in coincidences. The only person outside of our team who knew about the raid was Valerie. She reported to her handler and Matheson was tipped off. A plus B equals C.”

“Matheson has had a lifetime to build up a network inside the system,” Felicia said. “We’re looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Maybe. But men like Matheson know that the most secure network is one that’s small and built on personal loyalty.” She turned away from the window and the reminder of the rest of her life to face her agents. “What creates the greatest loyalty?”

“Chain of command,” Savard said immediately.

“Family,” Felicia replied.

“Start with Foster and the other four men from the assault on Blair, and find their brothers, cousins, uncles, fathers, grandfathers— every male relative who might have been associated with Matheson or Matheson’s brothers, uncles, father, whatever.”

Savard frowned. “What about the women?”

Cam shook her head. “Not likely. Matheson runs a military academy for boys. All of the assailants were men. All of the paramilitary personnel at his compound were men. He doesn’t entrust women with authority.”

Felicia’s eyes flashed. “One of his many mistakes.”

“Agreed,” Cam said with quiet satisfaction. “He’s going to regret underestimating us.”

“I was wondering when you were going to surface,” Blair said when Cam walked into the kitchen a little after 10 p.m. She pulled the red sweatband from her forehead and let her hair fall free on her shoulders. She’d just come from a run on the beach and still wore sweatpants and a cutoff T-shirt. “There’s chicken in the oven.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. Tanner had sandwiches sent in for us.” Cam opened the refrigerator and extracted a beer. “Want one?”

“I’ve got wine.” Blair waited until Cam sat down at the table and took several swallows of beer before moving behind her to massage her shoulders. “Long day.”

Cam leaned her head back against Blair’s body, briefly closed her eyes, and sighed. “Yeah. How was yours?”

“About the same. I painted a little this afternoon.”

“Anything I can see yet?”

Blair smiled. “Soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I won’t forget. What else is new?”

“Tanner’s people took Emory back to the city. Steph is going to stay with her for a day or so just to be sure she’s okay.”

“Good. How’s Diane?”

Blair’s hand stilled. “Upset.”

“I’ll talk to her as soon as I check in with Mac and Stark. Hopefully they had better luck sorting out what happened at the hotel last night than we had today.”

“No progress?”

Cam sighed. “Some. I have no doubt that given enough time we could track the various threads back to the hub, but I don’t think we have that much time. Not when Matheson can put together assault squads like he did at the Aerie, people who don’t care if they die.”

Blair went back to working on the muscles in Cam’s neck. “You think it was a suicide mission?”

“I doubt they framed it that way, but the probability was overwhelming that none of the assailants would survive.”

“You think he’ll try again.”

Cam fell silent, wondering if spelling out her concerns to Blair was fair.

“Don’t try to decide what’s good for me or not, just tell me what you think,” Blair said.

Cam looked up into Blair’s face. “Yes, I do.”

“Well. He’s not so smart, then, is he? I just hope he does it soon so we can get this over with.” Blair kissed the top of Cam’s head. “Why don’t you take a shower and change into something more comfortable. Your back is one big knot.”

“Are you going to come with me?”

Blair laughed. “No, not unless you intend on spending the rest of the night in the bedroom.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cam grinned, tilting her head further back against Blair’s stomach. “I missed you today.”

Blair traced Cam’s eyebrows with a fingertip, then leaned over and kissed her mouth upside down. “I’ve been thinking of this morning all day. I love that position, but next time I want it to be your mouth under me.”

Cam groaned and nosed Blair’s T-shirt aside so she could kiss her bare middle. “Let me finish up a few more things, and I’ll take care of that wish. I can shower later.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Anything?” Cam asked as she strode into the operations center. Stark, Mac, and—to her surprise—Wozinski were reviewing printouts. “Hi Greg. Things finished up in Boston?”

Wozinski shrugged. “The feebies are handling it. Need I say more?”

“Other than things are moving slowly?” Cam grinned. “What do you have?”

“Shooter’s name was Allen Strassmann, and as we already knew, he was on Constantine’s watch list. He’s also on half a dozen other lists under watch—all right-wing, pro-Christian, pro-life, ultraconservative groups.”

“On the surface,” Stark said, “it looks like Dr. Constantine was the target.”

Cam leaned against the door jamb and folded her arms. “You disagree?”

“If the doctor was the target, it seems pretty stupid to try to take her out when she’s with Egret, who everyone knows would be heavily guarded.”

“Maybe it was simply a matter of opportunity,” Cam said.

“Possible. But how did they know that Constantine was in the hall with us? It was a spur of the moment decision to leave then.”

“Maybe Strassmann was in the banquet hall or had someone watching Emory’s movements who could alert him, the same as we postulated might be the case if Blair were the target.”

Stark nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “If I were going to take a shot at Emory Constantine, I would plan to do it when she was leaving the hotel after the event—in the parking garage, maybe, or even in the crowd coming out of the banquet hall. There’d be a much better chance of getting away with it—and getting away, period.”

“Do we have any indication that this guy Strassmann might have targeted Blair?” Cam joined the others around the table.

“We don’t have anything in the files about this guy—or any organization he’s involved with—contacting her, issuing statements, or posting inflammatory messages on any of their message boards regarding her. Nothing ties him to her.”