to meet you.” He clipped the ID on the neck of his T-shirt.
The waitress arrived with their food, and Nate quickly secured Kate’s documents and then clipped his ID onto his flannel shirt. After dinner, they’d do one more recon on one of the offices of Omicron. While it looked like a normal building, filled with consultants and secretaries, Nate had learned that it was actually an operations center for the rogue CIA unit. Most of their operatives had either been fired from the CIA or were professional mercenaries. They worked in secret, and while Nate had discovered several maneuvers that would never have been sanctioned by congress, including two high level assassinations, all he really cared about now was the chemical weapon they’d engineered in Kosovo.
The gas had striking similarities to VX, but with VX there were antidotes. Nothing stopped this new weapon from killing. Death was ugly—the chemical bound itself to the enzyme that transmits signals to the nerves and inhibits them, making them uncontrollable. In the liquid form, the chemical takes an hour to kill, in the gaseous state, minutes.
The truly horrifying thing about it was that Nate knew there was a market for this thing. The Sudan. Nicaragua. Not to mention the Middle East. And that was just off the top of his head. There was money to be made in certain death, and the men behind Omicron had no qualms about raking it in. There was no choice in Nate’s mind. They had to be stopped before even one shipment of the gas was sold.
Halfway through the large breakfast, Seth laid his fork along the side of the plate, took a sip of the coffee and winced. “So how sure are you about this Leland Ingram?”
“Damned sure. I’ve been following him since before my return from the dead. His official title is Project Manager, but I have a feeling he’s more like Omicron’s chief henchman. If we can get inside and pull this off, we should be able to monitor everything they’re doing. We can find out the status of the gas, but, more importantly, we can scope out exactly who’s funding the operation, the man from Washington giving Omicron the go-ahead. There’s no way for us to ever get these bastards unless we know who we’re up against. This surveillance should be a big step forward.”
Seth glanced at his watch. “We’d better finish up and get going.”
Nate nodded, and the two men returned to their food. Minutes later, his plate clean, Seth laid down his fork, drank a little more coffee, and motioned to the waitress.
“You want more coffee?” she asked. Both men shook their heads, and she finished with the check and put it face down between them.
Seth slipped his jacket on, looking once again like another anonymous worker, and stood, picking up the check. He headed for the cashier as Nate donned his own jacket and fished a five out of his pocket. He met Seth outside the front door.
“Go home and get some sleep,” Nate said. “I’ll scope out the security on the building and we’ll connect at Gino’s.”
Seth stretched his neck around and nodded. He, like the rest of the team, wore the stress of their work on his face. “You sure?” he asked. “Another fifteen minutes won’t kill me.”
Nate shook his head. “Nah. One of us should be alert at Gino’s.”
SHE DIDN’T SEE the detective when she left the motel at nine-thirty the next morning, but she was certain he was around somewhere. She’d talked to Nate last night, and he had everything she’d need to start the next life. They would move on the assumption that the police would be watching, so Kate would fill out a job application as a cover. Nate and Seth were going to be doing a little surveillance of their own, and get whatever information on Detective Yarrow they could, primarily to determine if he was on the level.
The most important thing for her was to pick up her new papers. She wasn’t sure how she was going to ditch Yarrow, but she had to have the new ID.
Gino was one of the only people outside their group who understood what had happened in Kosovo, and he’d offered his place as a quasi-command post. All phone calls were taped, and if someone needed help, they’d dial the pizza parlor.
Kate fought another yawn as she battled the traffic on the freeway. Her night had been horrible. Not only had she gotten no work done, she’d gotten virtually no sleep.
She hated lying about not seeing the gangbangers. It went against everything she’d ever stood for. Not just the lying but not stepping forward, not taking a stand for what was right and just. But how could she when doing so would sign the death warrants of the people who had done so much that was right and just? If it had just been her own life…
She’d like to think she’d step forward. That she wouldn’t let herself be intimidated and cowed by punks, even if they were killers.
The night had been filled with struggles. Trying to sleep in the unfamiliar bed. Searching desperately for a way out of her dilemma, and thinking about Detective Yarrow.
The truth was, she respected him, if not his tactics. He believed in what he was doing. His friend had been killed, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of getting the men who’d done it. Yet he was the worst possible thing that could have happened to her.
She’d stopped asking why she’d been in that suite, at that moment. It was no use questioning fate. How could she have ever guessed that becoming a forensic accountant would lead her into a world of chemical warfare, covert operations and being completely cut off from everyone she’d ever known or loved? Who would have imagined getting caught up in a murder and gang warfare while restocking minibar fridges?
She kept checking the rearview mirror, but she hadn’t had enough spy training. Yarrow could have been two cars behind and she wouldn’t have known it.
Best to just get to Gino’s and let Nate and Seth take over. Maybe they could figure out a way she could stay hidden and still help Yarrow get his killers.
Her mind went back to him again. Mostly his eyes. They were such an interesting color. Not powdery or like clouds…More like blue flame. Or maybe that was just his anger.
Despite his dishevelment, he was a good-looking man. With no wedding ring. That didn’t mean he wasn’t married. If he wasn’t, he surely had a woman, or women. Men like him were chick magnets. Powerful, dangerous, commanding. Oh, yeah, he’d have them, all right. But not for keeps.
She knew his type only too well. Nate, she supposed, was her first exposure to hero wannabees. They’d gone out on a couple of dates when she’d first arrived in Kosovo. He’d been charming and funny, but he wasn’t interested in anything close to a relationship. Not Nate. She’d never have guessed what a true hero he would turn out to be. Shane, on the other hand, was, to quote a phrase, all hat and no cowboy. He’d also been a soldier, but not in the special forces. He’d talked about how tough he was, how he led his men with an iron fist. But he’d really been nothing more than a bully. She’d dumped him as soon as she’d seen his true colors.
She wondered if Yarrow was like Nate or like Shane. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to get to know him at all, nor would she want to. It was far too risky to let anyone in, for any reason. At least now, with Yarrow tailing her, he’d leave Ellen alone.
Her exit was coming up, so she got into the right lane, wondering who she would be this time. There was so much that went into changing identities. She’d have to learn a whole history, put it on like a coat and wear it all the time. She wasn’t sure how they managed it, but anyone looking into Kate Rydell’s background would find nothing suspicious. She had a good but unremarkable work history, and
