All In (11 page)

‡‡‡

TYKA AND MAHMOUD
were in a luxury resort in the middle of the desert. Or so it seemed. Mahmoud’s friend was a wealthy sheikh and had offered them accommodations. To keep propriety, since they were traveling alone, Mahmoud had told his friend that they were engaged. Consequently, they were in one bedroom with one very ornate bed. This did not make Tyka happy. She wanted her own space and needed time to rest and get her thoughts together. In addition, Mahmoud was unsettling her. He brought up some feelings that had lain dormant for a long time, and she did not like the thought of them being revived. Tyka had often seen her sexuality as a tiger, fierce and predatory. But she saw her heart as the opposite: a fawn, shy, skittish, hiding behind trees in the forest. The very idea that this cocky assassin could be finding his way under her skin scared her. She was trying to keep control and needed a way to reset her buttons.

‡‡‡

MAHMOUD HAD GOTTEN
some interesting information out of his friend, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The sheikh, wary to say what he knew, insisted on taking Mahmoud for a walk on the farthest veranda of his desert palace. There he looked both ways before whispering the information. Mahmoud approved of his caution and supported such extremity—after all, BS had spies everywhere, and one could never be too careful.

The information that stopped him in his tracks was this: BS, the sheikh claimed, was only moonlighting here in Africa. But he was not Moroccan, or European, or Asian. No. BS apparently was
an American
. Who worked for an agency—the FBI? The CIA? His friend didn’t know. What he did know was that the man had been undercover for years. His friend turned pale, and his hands began to tremble as he begged Mahmoud not to whisper a word of where he heard the information. Mahmoud agreed at once, but as he did, his mouth ran dry, and he could feel his blood run cold. He thanked his friend and tried to keep control as they walked back toward the center of the compound together. But the answer had become clear. When he put the pieces together, he came upon a new possibility, one that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He would have to do some more research, but in his gut he knew he was right. Susannah’s father, Buzz Carter, the man he had been tracking for months, was Baba Samka.

‡‡‡

TYKA AND MAHMOUD
decided they’d try to get a couple hours of sleep before making the journey back. It was eight
A.M.
and they hadn’t slept all night. Tyka was tired and cranky. And furious that Mahmoud would not reveal any information to her. He claimed it would be disrespectful to their host. She felt it was disrespectful to her.

“Why don’t you take the bed?” Mahmoud said gracefully. “I will lie on the floor.”

“No need to pretend to be a gentleman on my account,” Tyka snapped.

“I wasn’t being a gentleman,” he said with a grin. “I actually prefer sleeping on the floor.”

Tyka let out a breath. “Perhaps I also prefer the floor?”

“Wonderful,” Mahmoud said, loosening his tie and sitting on the mattress. “Then I’ll take the bed. Just as I’d hoped.”

They held eyes for a moment, the air growing thicker with each passing second. Then Tyka said, “Get off the bed. Now.”

“Make me,” he said with a dare in his voice.

She paused. “Let’s wrestle for it,” she said gravely.

Mahmoud raised an eyebrow. “All right. Weapons off.”

They each removed an arsenal of weapons from underneath their clothes: guns, bullets, knives. Then Mahmoud pulled a Chinese throwing star from his pocket and laid it on the bed.

Tyka looked surprised. “You know how to use that?” she asked, impressed.

Mahmoud smiled. “I don’t. My friend just gave it to me as a gift. I thought you might like the design. You still want to wrestle?”

They locked eyes. Then they moved toward each other and embraced, kissing with the fierce sharp passion of skilled assassins. Mahmoud tore Tyka’s shirt off, predatory, fierce lust rippling through him. She ripped his off using her teeth. And that was when Tyka got the Bod Squad key chain alert. When she accessed the message, she played it for Mahmoud. It was the Boss’s voice, saying shakily, “Bod Squad full alert. I just received a call from Fingers that Scrubs’s bug has been activated. Jackson is being held at knifepoint in the caves in Taza. We don’t know about Lisa Bee. You need to go in. I’ll be checking in stateside.
Casablanca times ten.
Get there now.”

Mahmoud gazed deeply into Tyka’s eyes. He said, “My friend has a private jet. We’re not far from Taza. We can be there in twenty minutes.”

Tyka said, “Let me fly it, and I’ll get us there in ten.”

‡‡‡

IN UNDER THIRTY,
Mahmoud and Tyka landed in the part of the national park where the caves were located. They had changed into outfits that would work for cave exploration and spelunking. Mahmoud always carried a pair of clothes for rough terrain, and Tyka wore her climbing gear. They had grabbed harnesses and helmets from Mahmoud’s friend on the way out.

AJ would be there in a couple of hours by chartered plane, so Tyka and Mahmoud decided to go down and deal with the situation, confident they could handle it until they had backup. Mahmoud knew the caves like the back of his hand, and Tyka was a climber, so they had the skills necessary to find their way. Mahmoud said the caves were complex, an intricate series of interconnected tunnels, but that he had a sense of where Jackson might be. They strapped on all their gear and made their way inside.

‡‡‡

JACKSON AND LISA BEE
had managed to disarm the whole group and had them sitting together, hands in plastic cuffs, against one wall. At first, when Lisa Bee came in with her gun, Jackson had been pissed that she’d put herself in the midst of danger. “Bee,” he said, “what the fuck? I told you to stay put.”

She had glared at him, her gun trained on the boy who had his dagger pointed at Jackson. “First off, don’t you think you should say thank you? Second, if you think you can tell me to stay put when your ass is on the line, you don’t know fuck-all about me.”

He paused, then smiled and said, “Well, ain’t you a surprise. Let’s show ’em what we got.”

She tossed him a second handgun she had on her, and within a few minutes they had the boys subdued. She grabbed the cuffs from her backpack and threw some to Jackson; they cuffed them, then he began to interrogate them. At this point he had spoken to most of the boys, some barely into their teens. That was what struck him as strange—the boys were hanging out down here like he and Mahmoud had done. But they weren’t acting like kids; they were calling themselves the People’s Army, and none of them would explain who they were or what they were doing there. They kept saying something about having taken power over Morocco.

Jackson was getting frustrated. It was at this point that he heard a familiar voice, speaking French: “Jackson?
Putain! Qu’est ce que tu fais avec
mes mecs?
What the fuck are you doing with my boys?”

‡‡‡

TYKA AND MAHMOUD
had made their way down in record time. Tyka knew that only because Mahmoud boasted about it. He was cocky, yes, but also appreciative of how well she could climb. She liked that he was so impressed; it offset some of his attitude. She was grateful for the chance to do some rigorous exercise—it helped clear her mind after what had happened back at his friend’s place. Mahmoud was dangerous for her, she knew that. It was best to keep this professional. The Bod Squad alert had been a godsend, really. It had stopped her from doing something she’d regret later. Together they found their way to Jackson and Lisa Bee and, guns ready and trained for protection, went in to take care of business.

‡‡‡

LISA BEE STILL
had her gun pulled when Tyka and Mahmoud entered. Jackson was in conversation with Omar, an old classmate who happened to be the head of the group they’d stumbled upon. It looked like Hassan had been right; there were small “armies” all over the caves, each managed and run by a bunch of people Jackson had known from his youth. He’d been talking to Omar for several minutes but still seemed wary. Lisa Bee was on high alert. Jackson was definitely in control, but in between translating pieces of his conversation, he had said, “Cool to be near Casablanca, ain’t it, Bee?” So she knew they weren’t out of the woods, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw Tyka and Mahmoud.

Lisa Bee had never seen Jackson so in control, so focused, and so sharp. She wondered if his cool-guy attitude was for real, or if it was all an act; the man she was observing right now was entirely different. Gone was the jocular, chill, funny guy she’d known for years. Here was a man who was grounded, present, and in command. She realized that he was a fiercely good operative: His dual identity was more than a difference in name. Here was the man she’d sensed within him but never seen. Unwavering, strong, and sure, Jackson was clearly the captain of this operation. When Mahmoud and Tyka entered, Jackson welcomed them in, then introduced them in French. Mahmoud also seemed to know Omar, and they shook hands and embraced. Jackson again said something casual about Casablanca; it was clear Mahmoud and Tyka understood and kept their guns at the ready. Then Jackson said to them all, “I’m going to ask him to repeat what he just said so you can all hear it. Omar, tell us what’s going on here.”

Omar began to speak in French, haltingly at first, then with speed. He seemed to be somewhat apologetic or ashamed. As he continued on, Tyka looked startled, and Mahmoud stiffened. When he finished, Mahmoud spoke back to him in French, but quite roughly, and Omar continued to look down. Jackson said something to Mahmoud, who nodded and took over. Lisa Bee realized it was Jackson who was the lead and Mahmoud the one following his instructions.
How did I get that so wrong?

Jackson walked over to her. “You okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes along with strength. He put a hand on her shoulder, and instantly, she felt herself relax.

“I’m good,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“First of all,” he said, “thank you. I should have said that before. You saved my ass. And you’re great with a gun. Tell your dad he did one heck of a job.” She blushed with pleasure at his words. “So here’s the deal. Omar has been saying he got into this to help his family—they’re paid a lot more doing this then they would be doing anything else. At first, he said, it was just passing information. Then they were passing small packages. Then he was moving weapons and commanding all these boys to do whatever was asked of them. He said he started small, then got in too deep. And he’s too terrified for the safety of his family to stop. Here’s the kicker: It’s definitely BS behind it.”

“Shit, Jackie,” she said. “It’s kind of the mother lode, ain’t it?”

“It’s what we’ve been looking for, Bee,” he said surely, with a touch of pride. “I’ve been organizing this search for months now, but it’s been years on top of that. I’ve been looking for BS since 2003, ever since Mahmoud’s family was killed.”

“Wow,” Lisa Bee said. She was taken aback and filled with inspiration. The man she thought she knew was a good deal more powerful, more ambitious, and even more intelligent than she’d realized. So this was why he was always traveling back to Morocco for “family reasons.” It never made sense to her—his parents were divorced but neither lived in Morocco: His father lived in Baltimore and his mother lived in Ohio. It was his chosen family, Mahmoud, whom he came to see.
Mahmoud, whose family Jackson had been trying to avenge for years. In a moment, it all became so clear.

“So, wait,” she said, making sure she was right. “Who’s running this? You are, yes?”

“I’m point on the whole operation. But I let Mahmoud take over for a bit because he needed to. It’s about his family and stuff that he’s been dealing with for years. But now there’s more to it, Bee,” he said, taking a quick look back at Mahmoud and saying something in French. Mahmoud nodded, and Jackson went on. “Omar says there’s a rumor going around that we need to investigate. It’s bad stuff. Mahmoud’s trying to press him for more details so we can get a handle on it. Then we gotta get out of here ASAP. I’d have us head out while Mahmoud finishes up, but it’s too dangerous to leave anyone down here.”

“Shit,” she said, “what is it?”

He paused to take a breath. “It looks like BS has a nuclear warhead pointed at the Pentagon.”

11

BY THE TIME
they climbed back up to cell phone range, AJ was already at the cave entrance. Jackson explained everything he could in a rush. Mahmoud, meanwhile, confessed his new suspicions of Susannah’s father being the criminal mastermind. They were all taken aback and felt as though the ground were shifting beneath their feet. Within minutes, Jackson was on the phone to the Boss, trying to figure out what to do next and what was fact versus fiction. When they were in the cave, Mahmoud had spent about fifteen minutes talking to Omar about where the warhead was located, but got no information, other than to go back to the Casbah and hunt down yet another terrorist network. The whole conversation was odd, and no one was sure what of the information was true and what was corrupted information that they were getting thirdhand. It was agreed that the Boss would call Fritz and brief her on the new intel and Mahmoud’s suspicions of Buzz. Meanwhile, the Boss insisted that they return to the States and let the FBI take care of the rest. The possibility that Buzz Carter was turned really hit home; now they didn’t know where to turn or who to trust. This was when Jackson clearly became point, delineating how they would proceed from here on out.

Tyka would return the jet to Mahmoud’s friend in the desert, and Mahmoud and Jackson would return the Vespa to Tangier, giving Mahmoud a chance to collect some things he needed from his place, and to have a heart-to-heart with Jackson. The world seemed to be spinning, and they were closer than ever to finding the man who had killed his family, and he wanted to make sure they didn’t fuck it up.

They all left to go their separate ways. Jackson was on the phone with the Boss again, Tyka gave Mahmoud a cool farewell, AJ seemed confused, and Lisa Bee felt like her heart was torn in pieces. Jackson gave her a wink and a nod and interrupted the Boss to say, “I owe you one, Bee. I won’t forget it.” Then he was gone. Everyone was preoccupied and filled with fear of the unknown. They were all glad for one thing: They’d soon be back on their home turf. And their biggest lead so far, Susannah’s father, would soon be safe behind bars.

‡‡‡

IT WAS THE
middle of the night in Virginia, and Janice had been crying for hours. Chas and Susannah, back on track with each other, sat by her side, Chas holding a box of tissues, Susannah holding her mother. They were sitting in an empty classroom in Quantico, all reeling from the course of events.

“I can’t believe it,” Janice kept saying over and over. “All these years—”

They were interrupted by Rafael, who entered the room like a whirlwind. “Oh, thank God I’ve found you!” he said, then pressed his earpiece and said, “Got them. Meet in Fritz’s office.”

Janice, at the end of her last nerve, barely kept her voice under control. “What on earth has happened now?”

Rafael paused. Looked at them all. Then said, “Don’t shoot the messenger. It looks like there may be an attack on the Pentagon and on D.C. itself. It’s nuclear. And it’s soon. And Janice?”

“Yes?” she said weakly.

“It looks like Buzz may be the one responsible.”

Janice stood shakily, then fainted, Rafael running to catch her. Susannah and Chas, speechless, froze in place. Rafael, Janice in his arms, said, “Come with me.” They followed him without another thought.

‡‡‡

IT WAS TERRIBLE TIMING.
Just as Rafael was bringing them up, Buzz Carter was being brought down in handcuffs with a full team surrounding him. They saw each other from down the hall, both camps frozen in place. Buzz Carter was led away as he shouted, over and over, “I’m not the one responsible! You have to believe me! I’m telling the truth!”

They stood frozen, Janice still down for the count, everyone else confused. “Dad,” Susannah said. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Call Rob Smith!” Buzz shouted over and over. “He knows the truth!”

After the melee, Janice was brought into Fritz’s office and left there for Fritz and Rafael to deal with. Buzz Carter was being interrogated by special agents. And Susannah and Chas were left outside in the shuffle.

Susannah sank onto a nearby couch, feeling haggard and debilitated. Chas sat next to her, likewise depleted. It was too much for them to bear. Without a word, she put her head on his shoulder, and they both fell fast asleep.

‡‡‡

A FEW HOURS LATER,
they were wakened by Fritz. She crouched in front of them, a worried expression on her face. When they blinked a few times, she offered them each a glass of water and said, “Oh, Susannah. I’m so very sorry about all of this.”

“How’s my mom?” Susannah asked weakly. She was having a hard time processing the information, struggling to stay strong. She swallowed and prayed for strength.

“She’s having a rough time,” Fritz said, smoothing down Susannah’s hair. “As one would expect. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve been better,” she admitted.

“I can imagine.”

“What do we do now?”

“Well,” Fritz said, grabbing a chair and pulling it over, “that’s what I’d like to talk to you about. If you’re up for it, we need you to do a little recon. We need some help here, and we think you can do it. I don’t like this, Susannah. I really don’t want to put you in danger, but I feel like it’s imperative that it’s you, with Rafael along to keep you safe. We need to find out the location of the nuclear warhead before it’s set off. If we don’t, we’re looking at a global catastrophe. All our agents in the field are tracking down leads. But because of the personal nature of the situation, we think you’re the only one who can do this particular task. Now, we don’t know for sure if your father is the person we’re looking for—all of this came very last-minute from a lead Mahmoud got. But one of our agents in Italy confirmed a possible connection of Buzz with the Marconi crime syndicate over the past sixteen years, and several other things fell into place, and—well, it’s all just such a mess. You might say we’re caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Susannah sat up straight, looking to Chas, who was wide awake and at the ready. “What can we do to help?”

Fritz took a deep breath. “Susannah, I know this is a lot to ask. But your mother is out for the night; I gave her a sleeping pill and put her on the couch in my office. We’re wondering if Buzz hid any information in or around your mom’s house. Would you and Chas mind going to look around? Rafael will go with you as protection and an added eye.”

Susannah steeled herself and glanced at Chas, who nodded, then looked back at Fritz. “Of course. We’ll go right now. What exactly are we looking for?”

“Frankly,” Fritz said, “I don’t know. Contacts? Coordinates? A piece of information that connects Buzz to all this? Something.”

“But Fritz,” Chas said, “why on earth would Buzz put any kind of information in or around the house? Especially after he faked his own death?”

“Why do you think?” Fritz replied. “It’d be the last place anyone would think to look. Also, Chas, the numbers on the scrap of paper you dug up in Johannesburg, every single one of them led back to Buzz. And one of them was the latitude and longitude of Janice’s house. At this point, everything points to Buzz’s involvement.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way.

‡‡‡

THE BOSS WAS ABOUT
to leave Babs and head to Quantico. Fritz had told him to hold off till everyone got settled; now, in the middle of the night, he’d been briefed and called in to help keep the peace. In addition, Fritz had let him know that Gabriella was killed in the line of duty, and that she might have been compromised. He felt responsible, that somehow in the course of his own operation, he had compromised hers. But how
?
He had thought Gabriella was in deep cover, trying to reestablish her ties to the crime family. He’d never guessed her cover had been blown—how on earth had
that
happened?

He turned to Babs, who lay stretched out on her cot, naked, smoking a Marlboro Red. He was sitting next to her, fully dressed in a suit, and knew he had to hit the road.

“Shit,” she said, blowing out a stream of smoke. “It sounds like it’s getting worse and worse.”

The Boss ran his hand through his hair and grimaced. “It’s worse than I thought possible. If Buzz wasn’t enough, and if the safety of the whole Bod Squad wasn’t already
on the line, now Gabriella has been taken out. Dammit, Babs, I feel like we’re in too deep.”

She rolled over onto her side and put a hand on his shoulder. “Sounds like rough stuff, Johnny. But it’s not your fault. And it’s not your responsibility.”

“I feel like it is. They’re my team, Babs. How would you feel if someone threatened your girls?”

“You know me, Johnny. I’d take the fuckers out.”

“Right,” he said, frustrated, “but what if you couldn’t find the ones responsible?”

Babs sat up and put her arms around him. “You’ll find ’em, Johnny. You know you will. It’s too important not to. In the meantime, you’ll keep the rest of your team close. It’ll be okay. I know it will.”

He took a deep breath. “Thanks. I’ve got to go in and figure out what to do next. I’ll catch you later.” He kissed her deeply. “One of these days I’m going to tire of only seeing you sometimes.” He took off before she could respond.

‡‡‡

AJ AND LISA BEE
were being flown back to D.C. when they got the message from the Boss. They were being attended on by Graham Cracker, who was hosting them like it was a celebratory bash. AJ was blasting jazz on her laptop, Lisa Bee was blasting Madonna on her iPod, and all three women were drinking pink champagne.

Lisa Bee was also doing some research. Her interest was piqued by a text the Boss had sent about some intel Chas got from a local contact, and a text she’d gotten from Susannah saying she was pissed at Chas for having lied about going undercover in Johannesburg. Lisa Bee thought she’d like to find whom he met up with and why it was so secret.

Suddenly, she heard her Bod Squad key chain vibrate. Lisa Bee played hers aloud to hear the Boss’s frustrated voice say: “Bod Squad alert. Gabriella Marconi killed in the line of action. Watch your back. Jackson, tell Mahmoud to find his way to Italy and figure out what happened and who is responsible. Ask him to suss out if there’s a connection to Buzz and to the nuclear warhead. Jackson and Tyka, call me ASAP—I have some thoughts about what to do next. Fingers and Lisa Bee, meet me at Quantico when you land. And remember, all: Nowhere is safe.”

It was silent on the airplane as AJ and Lisa Bee took in the news. Graham Cracker sank into a chair, sighed, and said, “Ah, fuck. More bad news.”

Lisa Bee spoke up next. “I used to really love this job, Fingers,” she said wistfully. “Walking into fancy Capitol Hill offices and busting guys in cuff links. Taking a trip to New York to put some rich Wall Street con artist in jail. Putting on disguises to catch some good-looking rich kids hacking in to the Pentagon’s database. But now it just sucks. I’m scared all the time. Is there any way to go back to how it used to be?”

“Tell me about it,” AJ said dourly. “My life used to be about fucking and profits. Sometimes simultaneously. Now it just feels like a constant shit storm. I never thought I’d feel lucky to investigate petty crimes and corporate greed. Maybe the odd inside job. I do whatever my clients want in order to keep their businesses running. But this? I feel like I’ve seen the underbelly of a part of the world I never wanted to look at. I’m exhausted and depressed. And I miss the life I used to have. Taking it down a peg would do wonders for my sex life.”

“
Merde,
” Lisa Bee said, thinking about Jackson and how much she wished he were by her side. “I guess we’ll just have to buck up and see what comes next.”

‡‡‡

TYKA GOT THE NEWS
shortly after she had dropped off the jet. She was in a hot tub and enjoying a welcome dip after fucking a Swiss business mogul who was also staying with Mahmoud’s sheik friend. The sex hadn’t been particularly enjoyable, but she welcomed the chance to stop thinking about Mahmoud. He had wormed his way into her thoughts. She’d never had someone get inside her so quickly, and she was frustrated. She had fucked the Swiss mogul in the hope that she’d forget all about Mahmoud. But it hadn’t filled the need she truly had: for someone as sharp, as skilled, as fierce, and as in command as she was. The only man she had ever met who fit that bill was Mahmoud. He was now what she craved, day in, day out. He haunted her dreams and her waking thoughts. She dipped her head under the water for a moment, hoping the heat would seep into her brain and melt her fantasies away.

A few minutes later, she got out of the hot tub, feeling a bit more relaxed. As she got dressed, her Bod Squad key chain vibrated, and she played the recorded message from the Boss. Her heart sank, and to her great surprise, she wept, something she hadn’t done since she was a girl. Gabriella had been her boss, her mentor, her captain, and the only true friend she’d ever had. Tyka been trying to get in touch for days but figured Gabriella was in deep cover, as had happened many times over the years. But
dead?
Tyka’s stomach turned as she thought of the one person she could count on being gone. She would not go back to America. She would not return to the Bod Squad. No. She wouldn’t be told how to run her life, her business. Certainly not by the Boss, a poor substitute for the commander she’d just lost.
Oh, no.
She was a free agent, and she was going to be her own boss now. She’d avenge Gabriella’s death, even if it caused her own. She tossed the Bod Squad key chain in the trash on her way out the door.

‡‡‡

MAHMOUD AND JACKSON
had arrived back in Tangier. After they gathered their belongings and a few things left behind by the Bod Squad, Mahmoud made a pot of coffee. They were planning to catch a chartered jet at Ibn Battouta in the next hour or so.

Mahmoud turned to Jackson and put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, old friend,” he said. “This whole thing has been so frustrating to be so close and yet—”

“I know, M,” Jackson said, looking him squarely in the eye. “We’re the closest we’ve ever been to finding him.”