climbed into the truck and waited for Seth to start the engine, Chelsea wrestled with herself.
She and Fax needed help, whether or not he wanted to admit it. And though it was probably the wimp talking, Chelsea readily admitted to herself that she would feel better if they could bring Seth and a handpicked few of her friends on board. It would give their investigation a sense of legitimacy, and it’d mean she wouldn’t have to lie to her friends, which she hated doing.
Problem was, after last night she knew Fax would never, ever agree to bring in other people, especially not someone from the Bear Claw PD or FBI. And she didn’t know him well, but she could guess that if she told them the truth and Fax found out, she’d never see him again. More importantly, she wasn’t a hundred percent certain it’d be safe to involve the others.
She trusted her friends, but the evidence said she couldn’t trust everyone around them. So as Seth backed out of her driveway and the surveillance vehicle fell in behind them, she tried to figure how to get the information she needed without asking questions that would reveal too much.
“Can I ask you something?” she said finally, knowing she’d have to keep it vague.
The look Seth sent in her direction warned that he wasn’t fooled for a second. “Sure. Anything.”
“Say someone was working undercover—and I mean deep undercover,” she began, hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “What sort of fail-safes would there be if he lost contact with his handler?”
“What agency?”
“Any one,” she said, dodging.
They drove in silence for nearly a mile before Seth muttered a curse under his breath. “What’s his contact’s name?”
It wasn’t a promise of help or secrecy, but within their circle of friendship, that was exactly what it amounted to.
“Jane Doe,” Chelsea said softly, hoping she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
T HE HIDDEN CABIN hummed with activity as the plans for the terrorist attack started coming together.
At least Fax got the sense that the scheme was getting nailed down. He didn’t know for certain because al-Jihad and Muhammad were keeping him as far out of the loop as possible, using him for information gathering and supply runs, and telling him almost nothing.
Not that Fax could blame them from a strategic point of view—it only made sense to give the new guy the crap jobs. But that meant he was stuck in limbo, part of the plan, yet not. It wasn’t enough, damn it. He needed the names of the people on the inside who were involved.
Then and only then would he know who he could trust and who he couldn’t.
Additional manpower and supplies arrived midmorning seemingly out of nowhere, which only added to Fax’s frustration.
He couldn’t figure out how al-Jihad was contacting his confederates, which meant he was missing a major piece of the puzzle. And if the terrorists were keeping their communication method secret from him, there was a good bet they were keeping other things hidden.
Unfortunately, he didn’t dare snoop. Muhammad and al-Jihad were on high alert, as were the five other silent men who moved into and out of the cabin, casting furtive looks in Fax’s direction, but not answering any of his greetings. The last member of their group—twitchy, weasely Lee Mawadi—had been growing increasingly twitchy by the hour. Worse, he’d taken to watching Fax, following him around as though the higher-ups had assigned him as a babysitter.
Fax didn’t like the thought any more than he liked the man.
Were they keeping tabs on him just to be safe or did they suspect something? Scratch that, Fax thought to himself as he bent over his latest task of sawing foot-long pieces of pipe that he could only assume would be turned into bombs over the next two days. Guys like these are always suspicious—that’s what keeps them alive and free. Question is, what’s made them extra suspicious now?
He didn’t
She and Fax needed help, whether or not he wanted to admit it. And though it was probably the wimp talking, Chelsea readily admitted to herself that she would feel better if they could bring Seth and a handpicked few of her friends on board. It would give their investigation a sense of legitimacy, and it’d mean she wouldn’t have to lie to her friends, which she hated doing.
Problem was, after last night she knew Fax would never, ever agree to bring in other people, especially not someone from the Bear Claw PD or FBI. And she didn’t know him well, but she could guess that if she told them the truth and Fax found out, she’d never see him again. More importantly, she wasn’t a hundred percent certain it’d be safe to involve the others.
She trusted her friends, but the evidence said she couldn’t trust everyone around them. So as Seth backed out of her driveway and the surveillance vehicle fell in behind them, she tried to figure how to get the information she needed without asking questions that would reveal too much.
“Can I ask you something?” she said finally, knowing she’d have to keep it vague.
The look Seth sent in her direction warned that he wasn’t fooled for a second. “Sure. Anything.”
“Say someone was working undercover—and I mean deep undercover,” she began, hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “What sort of fail-safes would there be if he lost contact with his handler?”
“What agency?”
“Any one,” she said, dodging.
They drove in silence for nearly a mile before Seth muttered a curse under his breath. “What’s his contact’s name?”
It wasn’t a promise of help or secrecy, but within their circle of friendship, that was exactly what it amounted to.
“Jane Doe,” Chelsea said softly, hoping she hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of her life.
T HE HIDDEN CABIN hummed with activity as the plans for the terrorist attack started coming together.
At least Fax got the sense that the scheme was getting nailed down. He didn’t know for certain because al-Jihad and Muhammad were keeping him as far out of the loop as possible, using him for information gathering and supply runs, and telling him almost nothing.
Not that Fax could blame them from a strategic point of view—it only made sense to give the new guy the crap jobs. But that meant he was stuck in limbo, part of the plan, yet not. It wasn’t enough, damn it. He needed the names of the people on the inside who were involved.
Then and only then would he know who he could trust and who he couldn’t.
Additional manpower and supplies arrived midmorning seemingly out of nowhere, which only added to Fax’s frustration.
He couldn’t figure out how al-Jihad was contacting his confederates, which meant he was missing a major piece of the puzzle. And if the terrorists were keeping their communication method secret from him, there was a good bet they were keeping other things hidden.
Unfortunately, he didn’t dare snoop. Muhammad and al-Jihad were on high alert, as were the five other silent men who moved into and out of the cabin, casting furtive looks in Fax’s direction, but not answering any of his greetings. The last member of their group—twitchy, weasely Lee Mawadi—had been growing increasingly twitchy by the hour. Worse, he’d taken to watching Fax, following him around as though the higher-ups had assigned him as a babysitter.
Fax didn’t like the thought any more than he liked the man.
Were they keeping tabs on him just to be safe or did they suspect something? Scratch that, Fax thought to himself as he bent over his latest task of sawing foot-long pieces of pipe that he could only assume would be turned into bombs over the next two days. Guys like these are always suspicious—that’s what keeps them alive and free. Question is, what’s made them extra suspicious now?
He didn’t
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