Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6 (5 page)

She was known for maintaining client confidentiality that rivaled any doctor or attorney-client privilege, but it was far better for a client to choose her rather than to sell him. She said, “You found me so I’m assuming you know my reputation.”

“I do, but I would venture to say that this will be unlike any contract you’ve ever taken and, if you’re successful, it will pay two-hundred-and-fifty thousand dollars.”

Okay, he’d just uttered the magic words.

Her blood pressure spiked along with her interest, but she forced her face to remain passive, to hide any emotion. She was proud of her ability to sound calm and reserved. “What are you looking for, Mr. Smith?”

“First, I want your word
not
to
share this conversation.”

“You have it.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’ll know if you do breathe a word of this. A scroll was stolen from the Vatican and brought into this country yesterday. If you take this job, you can
never
talk about the scroll
or
that it’s from the Vatican.”

Whoa. Her mental racing skidded to a stop. Television images of Pope Lando arriving in Virginia yesterday flashed in her mind. He’d arrived with his usual entourage, plus an additional team who were here as representatives visiting parishes not on the pope’s itinerary.

A scroll stolen from
the
Vatican. Really?

She sat back, giving off body language for
not so quick there, buddy
. “Why me? There are two others with my expertise.”

“Three, actually.”

“What? If you’re talking about Aram Pavlovsky, he is
not
in my league, or that of the other two on the East Coast.”  

“My people have not spoken to him. Yet.”

She wished Charlie had joined her after all. Maybe she should have offered to split this deal, but it hadn’t even occurred to her to ask since she’d never needed anyone before when she was negotiating.

And she hadn’t expected to feel this in-over-her-head during the first minute either.

Smith had said, “I’ll know if you breathe a word of this,” with enough dark meaning the Godfather would have given points.

Frightened didn’t quite cover the sick feeling in her stomach that if she continued this conversation she might be stepping off a ledge with no idea how far she’d fall.

“Having second thoughts, Ms. Eklund?”

If she was going to turn him down, now was the time to do it.

Stay and take a job that was making her instincts throw up red flags, or walk away and watch the financial hole she was standing in cave in on top of her?

Chapter 5

Dingo paced the walkway near the terminal where the door for his flight to Atlanta would close in twelve minutes. He diverted his attention from the flight attendant checking her watch after he’d convinced her to tell him exactly how long he had.

Why hasn’t Pete called back yet?

Dingo had reached out to the one person on the West Coast that he would trust to watch Valene until Dingo could meet with Sabrina, then fly back to LA.

But Pete had not responded, which meant he was deep undercover.

Or dead.

Damn. Dingo would have a hard enough time making Sabrina see reason in person. Over the phone would be a shouting match.

If he said he was in LA, she’d go volcanic on him.

Then she’d have to cut him loose or lose the respect of everyone on her teams, and he couldn’t put her in that position. He’d like to tell her he was taking that much-needed break she’d been trying to push on him, but Josh was finally going to have the wedding he’d put off time and again for the team.

Dingo wouldn’t leave either one of them hanging.

He just needed a few days right now to take care of Valene.

He stood between two women he didn’t want to let down.

The flight attendant announced the doors would close in three minutes.

Dingo’s phone chirped. He stopped pacing, released a strained breath and snatched up his phone. “Where are you?”

At the stilted pause, he pulled the phone away to check the monitor and groaned, then lifted the phone back to his ear in time to hear Tanner say, “Where am
I
? Sitting in Atlanta.”

Dingo muttered, “Shit.”

“Nice to talk to you, too. Sabrina has new intel. We think we know who at least one of the targets might be and she’s ready to figure out a plan.”

Pinching his nose, Dingo asked, “What’d she find out?”

“Hasn’t shared the details yet. Said she wanted everyone together so we can move on this fast, but she did say that you were going to coordinate all the teams from headquarters.”

“What?” Dingo snapped then lowered his voice. “She’s got White Hawk or Blade, plenty of people to run the operation. The best place to put me is in the field unless we’re after an electronics felon.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing. Just playing messenger.”

“Then tell her that’s a stupid idea.”

“You want to tell her?” Tanner asked.

“I’ll tell her. This is bullshit. She’s still pissed about what happened on the Orion Hunter mission last month–”

“You bet I am,” Sabrina said in place of Tanner who must have handed off the phone in midstream of Dingo’s rant. “First you and Tanner kept information from me–”

“To save your ass that was flapping in the wind with the State Department,” Dingo interjected, but she didn’t slow down.

“Then I find out you took Valene Eklund as your backup to Colorado. So, yeah, I’m pissed, but that isn’t why I want you to coordinate this operation.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine. If you want the truth, I admit that I don’t want you to go tearing off to LA to protect someone who doesn’t give a damn about you.”

“That’s my business,” he snarled.

The flight attendant took that moment to announce that the doors were closing on his flight to Atlanta.

Silence rippled between Dingo and Sabrina.

He leaned his back against one of the thick structural supports and put his hand over his eyes. Screwed didn’t begin to describe how sideways this conversation was headed. “Let me explain.”

“Clearly what I think doesn’t matter in the least to you. Nor are you concerned about three assassinations we’re trying to prevent.”

Dingo’s voice was low and rough from exhaustion. “I’m at LAX because I was heading back to talk to you. I’m asking you to work with me on this. I have to know that whoever has started up Satan’s Garden Club again isn’t coming for Valene. I know you don’t like her–”

“What made you think I don’t like her?”

He paused, stuck for what to say, but Sabrina cleared up his confusion right away.

“Don’t sugarcoat my words. I hate that bitch.”

“Fine. You hate her, but I’m responsible for her being at risk, if she is.”

“No. When are you going to get it through your head that she brought Garcia down on herself seven years ago? She’s the one who went snooping where she shouldn’t have and you’re the one who took on a suicidal undercover role to protect her.” Sabrina’s voice shook when she added, “I almost lost you forever. Even when you came back, I thought I’d lost you. I will not forgive and forget. She’s a liability to you.”

It was hard to argue when Sabrina laid out the facts in cold precision, but that wasn’t exactly the way it all happened. Valene had thought she was helping him. Should she die because of going the extra mile?

No. Sabrina wouldn’t agree, but she was correct on one point. Dingo had been a shell of a man after barely escaping Garcia. Finding Valene married when he’d healed up enough to fly to LA had broken what glimmer of a spirit he’d had left.

“Don’t do this again, Dingo,” Sabrina pleaded softly. “I can’t watch you go through that twice.”

He hung his head. She didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him being some lovesick young buck.

This was life and death.

But Sabrina wouldn’t spit on Valene if she were on fire. In fact, Sabrina would set the fire.

He cleared his throat and said, “I was about to board a plane.  I was going to be on time for the team meeting. I would never intentionally make you look bad to the team and I had hoped to talk to you in person about this.”

“But you aren’t on that airplane, are you?”

“No. I was waiting to hear from my friend Pete. I’d planned to have him watch over Val while I was gone, but I haven’t heard back. Doesn’t matter. I hold myself just as accountable to you and the teams as everyone else in Slye Temp and I understand about ...”  He had to take a breath before saying that he understood that she’d have to cut him loose. It wasn’t about the job. He could sign on with ten different groups tomorrow, but he could never replace the relationship he had with Sabrina and Josh.

That was the only thing he had to cling to in dark times.

Sabrina’s voice sliced through the phone with a honed edge. “What you should understand is that we have a mission and new intel to sort out. We’ve received information that leads us to believe at least one of the targets is in southern California, which means I’m taking teams to the West Coast. We’re wheels up in an hour. Your job is to be in LA ahead of us and set up safe house number four.”

She was giving him an out and that last part had been said overly loud, probably for the benefit of Tanner and any other team members nearby.

He pushed off the support beam. “I’m on it.”  He took a step and stopped. “I really appreciate–”

Sabrina cut him off. “I’ll expect you to have reviewed all the material forwarded to the safe house computer and have everything we need ready to go.”

Hearing the sound of her moving around, he waited for her last words and that didn’t take long.

The sound of a door closing meant she had to be in her office. She said, “There’s no solid information that proves this Satan’s Garden Club is in any way connected to the original group. What would you be telling me if the tables were turned and I went off half-cocked to protect Gage?”

He hated Gage Laughton, and she had too, at one time. “We’re talking apples and oranges. Valene did nothing wrong, technically. Gage, on the other hand, was your CIA handler who let us get burned in the UK.”

“I don’t have proof of that in hand.”

“So you’re arguing on his behalf?”

“No, but I’m telling you I’m just as open-minded about Valene as you are about Gage. You want understanding? Here it is. Find your man Pete. Get Eklund out of the way and get your head into the game by the time we arrive.” The call ended.

Only Sabrina could give him an impossible task and make it sound as though she was helping him out.

Chapter 6

Valene glanced around the restaurant where patrons were involved in their own conversations. No one was watching her and the mysterious Mr. Smith. No visible threats.

He watched her, expecting Valene to admit she was having second thoughts.

“I must move this along, Ms. Eklund,” Smith said. “Now is the time to stop this meeting if you’re intimidated by a project of this caliber.”

Intimidated? Not in this lifetime.

She dismissed everything except locking this deal down. “I’m listening, Mr. Smith. You lost something from the Vatican that you’re willing to pay a quarter of a million dollars to have returned. I can’t mention to anyone, now or ever, that this is connected to the Vatican. I’m assuming someone slipped the scroll out without your security realizing it, which would point to an inside job. Does that pretty much sum it up?” 

Smith nodded, but offered nothing more. He sat perfectly still, watching her.

If he expected her to fidget, he’d be disappointed.

Some people talked to fill in a conversation void. If
she
stayed quiet long enough, they’d talk even more, trying to convince her to take a contract.

Because some contracts were losers.

Dingo had once told her she could afford to pass up ten good jobs, but she couldn’t afford to take one bad one.

Since her mind was determined to bring Dingo to this meeting, she tried to look at this the way he would. Dingo would start by trying to figure out more about this guy.

Valene asked, “Who are you, Mr. Smith?”

“I’m a part of the Vatican’s security.”

If she asked him for ID beyond Charlie’s recommendation, she’d get about as much out of this guy as she’d ever gotten out of Dingo. A phony ID that was a hundred percent authentic looking and someone to verify him when she called the number he gave her, which would be the only number for him.

Valene skipped the exercise in futility and asked the question that would determine whether she was ready go for this deal. “How about being straight with me. Why did you choose me and not one of the other
two
?”

“Three,” he corrected.

Did he do that just to see if he could get under my skin?

Better had tried.

He released a sigh that rumbled with impatience, but his face remained placid as a calm lake. “You’re the only one with the level of expertise required who is not associated with a government operation or agency. This is Vatican business and must be kept silent. I’m sure you’re aware of the pressure this pope is under to reform the financial dealings of diocese and organizations linked to the Vatican and its banking system.”

“I see the news.”

“I thought you were Catholic.”

He got the past tense correct, as in back before life had shredded her belief. She shrugged. “Is that a requirement?”

“No. As I was saying, the pope is under pressure to make changes, but has also been under attack from those who don’t want change. If we allow the media to get word that a rare artifact has been taken out of the Vatican, all of this pope’s hard work will be lost in a thunder of outcry over the artifact.”

“So the pope knows all about this theft?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Squeezing orange juice from a rock would be easier than getting a straight answer out of this guy. She’d heard about all the conflict going on between bishops, archbishops, monsignors, you name it. They were all priests, but they were also human. On occasion, one of those humans allowed the sin of lust for money to override his belief. To this pope’s credit, he was shaking up the place.

She still wasn’t making the connection. “You don’t believe the FBI would handle this quickly and keep it quiet?”

“Does that work for you?”

Valene thought back over what she’d said, trying to determine if this was a trick question. No idea. “Does what work for me?”

“Talking a potential client out of your services.”

Not particularly, but she’d survived a long time in this world by forcing her rambunctious side to take a back seat when caution should prevail. “I want to be sure this will work for both of us before I commit to anything. Why should I take a job that would tie me up and not pan out when I could be on one that would be lucrative?”

Oh, wait, she had the answer.
Because this is the only job I’ve been offered of this size in longer than I can remember.

“As you mentioned earlier, I am well aware of your reputation or I would not be here. I’m also aware of your financial situation, which is difficult, bordering on dire.”

To be told that by a client stunned her. “My personal business is just that. Personal. I don’t know what Charlie shared with you–” For which she was going to rip Charlie a new one when they spoke later. “–but I’m not taking
any
contract unless I’m a hundred percent convinced it’s legal and doable.”

Smith tilted his head a bit with a look of mild admiration, which had no influence on her state of mind.

He continued, “I understand your caution. At one time, I would have collaborated with the FBI on this, but while performing investigations for His Holiness, my staff uncovered disturbing information on a rogue group of fanatics also looking for this scroll. From what we were able to discern, these people have infiltrated law enforcement in different countries and possibly even the Vatican. I can’t go around asking everyone’s personal beliefs or accusing law enforcement of having personnel with ulterior motives for their positions, especially when I’m a visitor in another country.”

“Tell me about this scroll.”

Smith pulled back physically, a tiny movement that televised he was deciding something, then he leaned forward just enough to show he was back in the conversation again. “This scroll contains visions Galileo claimed to have received and wrote in his own hand while under house arrest at the Vatican.”

“Are you serious? I’ve never heard of that and I would have. Where has it been all these centuries?”

“In the Vatican. Each pope has inherited the responsibility of protecting items and secrets the world is often not meant to see or hear about.”

She sat back, an elbow propped on one arm and her thumb tapping her jaw. This was very likely a wild goose chase. Much as she’d like to take the money, she’d ruin her reputation by accepting a job that every other person in her field would label a fool’s errand, because there was no such scroll.

If it did exist, that artifact would be worth more money than ... she couldn’t even put a price on it.

“You don’t believe me.” Mr. Smith stated that without the least bit of annoyance.

“I’m not questioning your integrity,” she made clear, “but I am questioning the authenticity of this scroll.”

“Convincing you of that is not one of my concerns. Only locating the artifact that was taken.”

She sat forward, folding her arms on the table. “Was this scroll
ever
authenticated?” 

“Yes, but I’ve answered enough questions. Authentication does not fall within the parameters of this contract, but I have photographs that were taken in recent years by someone who had been invited to study the scroll and tried to leave with the images. We retrieved the shots and they stayed in the Vatican until now.”

She chuckled, still not believing this. “We’re not talking about Galileo’s
Sidereus Nuncius
of which twenty-five copies are still floating around.”  Even a
fake
copy of that publication had made it past world-renowned experts. “I’ve never even heard of the existence of this scroll. Things with that type of historical significance have names. What’s the scroll called?”

“Are you accepting the contract?”

What if Galileo really had left a scroll in the Vatican?

There were plenty of artifacts that no one knew about stored beneath that mammoth structure, so Valene couldn’t actually say beyond a shadow of a doubt that this scroll didn’t exist.

Her gut whined a little, but Valene had no concrete reason to turn this down. “I’m in. Show me the photos.”  She stuck her hand in her purse and fished out her notebook.

Smith pushed buttons on his electronic tablet. When she looked at him again, he said, “First, we’ll sign the nondisclosure agreement on my tablet, and I’ll forward a signed copy to you immediately.”

“Fine, but I also want a clause added to the final agreement that states the theft happened in Italy and that I will in no way be breaking US or international law by aiding you in the recovery.”

Smith nodded and they both signed using his stylus, then Valene added one more stipulation. “I’ll also need official documentation for chain of possession upon delivery, so there is no question that the scroll was returned to the pope’s people.”

Smith took his time, thinking.

That pause was actually a positive sign.

He finally nodded. “Upon delivery of the scroll, I’ll provide a document stating that I took possession as a representative of the Vatican.”  Acting as if that had settled all negotiation, he quickly tapped a file on the monitor.

It opened to rows of images.

But she’d caught a glimpse of the icon for that file–an image of a fisherman in a circle–that she recognized as the emblem on the pope’s ring.

That quieted down her suspicious side a little.

Multiple images of a scroll popped up in rows of five. He touched the first one that opened to a close-up of Galileo’s signature.

She leaned in. Impressive, but if she was putting that scroll on auction it would still need to be verified by three more experts.

Smith continued touching images that provided close-up shots of age marks and star maps scattered through the writings.

It sure as hell looked like a Galileo document.

Whether it was or not, she’d agreed to find it. Smith and the Vatican could worry about authenticating it.

He caught her frowning. “Problem?”

She plastered a polite smile on her face and shook her head. “No. Keep the slideshow rolling.”

     When the presentation ended, Valene asked, “This may take a while–” 

“You have five days to produce this artifact. It must accompany our entourage when we return to Italy next week.”

“One. Week?”

“Five days, to be specific.” Smith didn’t blink. He was dead serious. “Did you think I would pay that much money for anything less than immediate results? It shouldn’t be too difficult for you if your contact list is as extensive as I’ve been led to believe. The person who stole this will have to make a sale quickly to acquire the money he needs to disappear. Otherwise it will be quite obvious the minute he doesn’t arrive in time to leave with us.”

“You’re sure it’s a he?”

“The only women with any chance of involvement have been cleared by me. I’m looking for a man.”

The reality of what she was agreeing to slammed home with crystal clarity. What if this guy who stole it was unstable? Wouldn’t that be the
definition
of unstable? Someone who dared to steal a priceless artifact from the Vatican? “Are you planning on arresting this thief?”

“My first priority is the safe delivery of the scroll. After that, I assure you he will be dealt with.”

“People who are afraid can be dangerous. What if I figure out who has the artifact and tell you, then you retrieve it?”

“If I thought the thief was one of my people or on one of our other security forces, that would be a valid concern, but I believe he’s someone we’d never expect–someone on the massive staff–who saw an opportunity and has let greed overpower his faith. I would venture to say the thief is feeling quite confident right now since he’s in the US with a scroll that he’s managed to sneak out from under our noses.”

Smith paused, glancing around then looking like a man carrying a burden meant for ten. He continued, “Unfortunately, we have two delegations in the states at this moment, and all members departed within a six-day window. The first one is here on official Vatican business, which has that team spread across the country. The second group is the pope’s personal entourage. My staff was alerted of the missing scroll as soon as the pope’s entourage departed earlier this week. Both groups include the most highly trusted individuals, but none are someone I would consider a physical risk.”  He pinned her with a no-nonsense look. “Another reason I chose you was because of your self-defense skills. I was led to believe that you’re well versed in Krav Maga.”

“True.”

That one word seemed to appease him. “In that case, take the same precautions you would with any other unfamiliar collector and you should be fine. However, I did not answer your question. If you prefer to contact me to intervene at any point, I will step in and I would allow you to keep your ten-thousand dollar retainer.”

“What about the rest of the money?”

“You would not have earned it. I’m here meeting with you only because I can’t get close to this thief before he disposes of the artifact, but you can.”

She needed enough money right now to cover the deposit on her father’s treatment, plus cash to buy help in tracking this thief down. This was an all in or not-at-all deal.