He stood, then paused before leaving the room. “Just so you know, I plan to follow through on this. Nobody…I mean, nobody, rips off my bank and gets away with it. Especially not for the purpose of bankrolling the bin Ladens of the world. I can track the money.” He shook a finger at her. “You tell your people that. They can work with me or around me, I don’t really care—but there’s no way I’ll be camping out behind some desk while someone else tries to straighten this out.”
Whoa. The man didn’t come off like a mild-mannered banker when he got his dander up. But Dani knew what her boss would say to having a civilian muddying up the waters of an international financial investigation. “We have experts who follow up on things like this, Mr. Michaels.”
“And by the time they decide who and how many to send, get the travel approved, orders cut, run everything through their computers and bureaucrats, and settle on what to do first, the money will be spent. And if I’m right, people will die.”
The fire in his eyes told her he’d had some experience with that. She could also see that her words would have little effect on his actions. Plus, he was right about the systemic delays. That was one reason her own team had been formed.
Whoever investigated this would certainly need the cooperation of a banking expert, and Ben Michaels did have all the particulars of the transaction and perhaps knew how to trace it, if that were possible. She would at least call the boss to see what he thought about Michaels, his suspicions and his plans to pursue this. Maybe the investigating operatives could use him.
“How are you with team work?” she asked, suspecting that he might have a lone wolf personality.
“Depends on the team,” he replied. “But I can work alone.” He paused, again with that narrow-eyed glare that hinted at hidden hard edges and left Dani assured of his resolve. “And I will if need be.”
Dani took out her cell phone and raised her chin to indicate he should leave her to make her phone call in private.
“Ben Michaels, you are one lucky son of a gun,” Mike Talbert said with a roll of his eyes. “Guess you been living right lately.”
“Has Mary Ruth calmed down yet?” Ben asked, changing the subject. He was concerned about the young, newly hired teller who had thrown up all over the inside of the vault and fainted. Her every waking moment since this whole thing started, she had spent crying. She looked about the same age as Agent Sweet. He couldn’t help comparing the two women and wondered what had forged Sweet’s ironclad nerves.
“Aw, Mary Ruth’ll be okay,” Mike said. “Probably need some counseling, though. Doc gave her a little something to take the edge off and I sent for her daddy to come get her.”
“And George?”
“He’s fine. Gave us the details on what happened right up until the vault clicked shut on him.” Mike smiled. “George is good with details. Prob’ly already writing a book about it.”
Ben tried to smile back.
“Where’s our little agent?” Mike asked, then peeked around Ben’s shoulder. “Oh, there she is. This COMPASS team she’s on? I’ve heard of it through channels. Started out as one of those secret, specialized forces called Sextant, which has branched out to include this new one.”
“Not so secret now?” Ben asked.
“Publicly, they are, but in law-enforcement circles they’re growing their legend. See, they took the best of the best, so I’ve heard, from the Bureau, CIA, NSA, ATF and the like. Supposed to stimulate cooperation between the agencies. Must be working because that first bunch has made quite an impact, heading terrorists off at the pass. COMPASS was involved in some real dicey deals with stolen missiles, bombs and such.”
He nodded toward the office and smiled. “Hard to believe Miss Sweet’s up to things like that, the way she looks and all. Kinda dainty.”
Ben clicked his tongue. “You didn’t see her disarm the robber. She’s gutsy. And quick.”
“Like a bunny,” Mike said, laughing. “Yeah, she whipped our asses on a car theft thing here a couple of years ago. Made us look like a buncha yokels. It was all over before we even knew what was going on…. I ought to be mad at her for that, but I never been one to hold a grudge. Besides, she’s a real looker.”
A real looker. “And you’re a real master of understatement,” Ben said with a laugh. Agent Sweet was a natural beauty with a perfect, tawny complexion, clear amber eyes and rich dark hair so shiny it reflected her red sweater. She filled that out magnificently, even though he doubted she weighed much over a hundred and ten pounds. A five-five bundle of energy with a good head on her shoulders. The view from the rear in those gray slacks impressed him, too, as she turned her back on them, still talking on the phone.
Too bad she’d turned, though, because those mobile lips of hers were her best feature, Ben decided. God, they were something.
“She might be good at what she does, but you’re the one who was really on the ball today, man.” He slapped Ben on the shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? Still look a little tense.”
“I’m fine and I’d appreciate it if you’d downplay my part in this,” Ben replied, his gaze still focused on Agent Sweet.
“Oh, ’cause of your mama, right?”
“Right.” He watched Agent Sweet pace behind the glass window of the office. She gestured emphatically with one hand as she talked into the phone.
He wondered if he would see her again after today. He hoped not, he reminded himself firmly. There was already one woman in his life he had been jumping through hoops to keep happy for the last year and a half.
All that aside, nothing prevented him from enjoying Agent Sweet aesthetically. She was a work of art, that one. Through the window her dark golden eyes met his and locked like lasers. Then with a curt motion of her hand, she beckoned him to join her.
Even her frown was intriguing.
Despite finally being able to leave the scene, Dani felt anything but relief when they exited the stifling bank into the cold air. Vacation was over. Mercier had decided she should follow up on this since she was already familiar with the situation. And, surprisingly, her boss had not discouraged Michaels’s involvement, at least as far as the Cayman bank.
She could feel one of her premonitions coming on and this one felt like a doozy.
Everything had happened so fast. Capable as Ben Michaels had seemed in the crunch today, she did not want to work with a civilian, even if he was a former soldier. She had only the bare bones of his career; Mercier had run a quick check on him, then read her the high points over the phone, assuring her Michaels was qualified to act as an agent of opportunity.
Michaels had been out of the army for almost two years after serving for seven, an officer nearly halfway to retirement, now a bank manager. Medical discharge, Mercier said. Probably high blood pressure, Dani figured.
“Follow me,” Michaels ordered as he reached his vehicle, a fairly new Mercedes SUV sporting snow chains. The boy must make pretty good money, Dani thought.
“We’ll go to your sister’s house to drop your car. Since I have chains, we’ll take mine
