Burning Intensity (2 page)

El felt a small frisson of satisfaction as this, her final point, seemed to hit home. His eyes widened. There was no other indication that she’d managed to rock him and El was glad she’d caught the small giveaway. She didn’t expect someone as hardened and unstable as Thaddeus to weep or bury his head in his hands, so this physical sign was akin to a scream of fright from him.

“Oh yeah,” she purred as she closed the folder, dropped it onto the table and pressed her palms against the cool surface once again. Leaning close, she grinned. “This isn’t your first time around this particular block, we all know that. The weapons, ammunition, even the devastation of property, those are all old hat to you, Brown. You can do the time on your head with one hand tied behind your back. We’ve no blushing virgins here. But terrorism? Ooh, that’s a different level altogether.”

Thaddeus narrowed his eyes to slits and he crossed one leg over the other in a defensive movement. She couldn’t tell yet if he was starting to crack, or if these were small, unconscious tells. El didn’t pause for breath, pressing the small advantage she held.

“Do you really think Kent and Luke aren’t going to roll? I bet they’re dancing to my colleague’s tune already, handing out any information we wish and laying the bulk of the blame on you. I know you understand cooperation is key here, and the first person to help gets the plum deal. Your mates are the strategists, I can see that. You’re just the weapons man, the boomer expert who keeps the artillery flush. Do you really think they aren’t going to work their best to get their collective arse out of the fire?”

Experience coupled with her gut-deep instinct warned her that this man was highly dangerous, far more so than their usual suspects. The manner in which he skittered his glance around the room, coming back time after time to rest on her face, solidified the feeling that something wasn’t right with him. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she’d never have noticed how his breathing increased very slightly. That, coupled with his jerky gaze, made her wonder if he was a powder keg waiting to explode.

She finally found that label for Thaddeus she’d been searching for. The man was flat out crazy.

If he was, she knew he would go berserk and be an even greater threat to them all. Having long ago learned to never let her true emotions show while in interviews, El kept her expression even, not hinting for a moment that she had begun to get a picture of the depths and complexities in this man.

Despite the clear instability he possessed, there was certainly still intelligence flickering in Thaddeus. El knew he understood the airtight case they had against him and his co-conspirators. Yet he continued to remain silent as she gave a brief sketch outlining the strengths of the case they held.

Thaddeus sat up, but his muscles and posture remained relaxed.

Maybe he truly was crazy.

El stood again, reaching out swiftly with one hand to scoop up the file.

“They were right,” El spoke, directing her words for the first time to Rob as she stepped away from the table. “He’s not all there. We’re wasting our time here.”

“You have not, as yet, asked me a question,” Thaddeus said in a calm, soft tone.

El paused, cocked her head to the side, then gave a single, curt nod. She gave him that point.

“My apologies,” she replied formally, her tone as cool and low as his. “I’ll make this extremely simple. Tell me where the Cezanne is, and I’ll do what I can to stop you from being fried. There’s no way out of this—you’re all cooked—but there are harder ways to serve a multiple life sentence, and less hard ways. First one to point us correctly at the painting gets the less degrading, simpler route straight to hell.”

Thaddeus frowned, the first seemingly normal, genuine response he’d given so far. “I don’t know what trap you think you’re setting out, but don’t fuck with me or I’ll happily go back to my comfortable cell and give you nothing. What do you really want?”

Now it was El’s turn to struggle to restrain the surprise from crossing her face. Thaddeus’ words were blunt and clear, his eyes cool and assessing, but free from guile. He honestly thought she was playing him.

“The whole point of your little spree was to compromise the security, create a cluster-fuck of confusion and upset security routines. This was to ultimately steal a little known Cezanne,” El said slowly, clearly explaining the obvious to him. “Kent and Luke were the instigators, but you and the rest of your team successfully stole the painting. Despite the evident length of planning and detailed work the group of you did, during the few hours after your mission you were all scooped up and arrested. Are you denying you’re a part of that team?”

“Lady, I’d happily lay siege all over again to the Gallery. Blowing those pillars up, getting to finally use my baby—the rocket launcher—fucking with the guards and compromising their precious system, not once but twice in less than twenty-four hours has been a highlight of my career. I’m not denying anything.”

“So you’re not interested in having a say on where you get to spend the rest of your life rotting away.” El shrugged as she turned to face the door.

Thaddeus sighed. She tilted her head to look at him, but didn’t move back to the table. El waited, patiently. Their gazes met. El showed nothing but self-confidence. Deep inside, she burned with a fire, knowing she was determined. She’d come out on top, regardless of how she made it there.

The air in the small room seemed to crackle with tension once again. Thaddeus was the first to glance away.

He sighed. “Kent and Luke didn’t have the picture when you picked them up?”

“I wouldn’t be here enjoying your company and asking you useless questions if they did,” she pointed out reasonably.

Thaddeus shrugged. “I never laid a hand on the picture. How can I know where it ended up?”

“Why don’t you make a guess and hope it pans out? Where do you think they might have kept it?”

Thaddeus frowned further, creases showing on his brow.

El remained still, frozen as she gazed steadily, taking in every inch of the criminal’s posture and body language. He seemed to genuinely consider her question. When he licked his lips and lifted his eyes to her, she could see he’d decided to make an effort.

“Ask me something I can speak about,” he said in a slow, clear tone. “Like those piece of shit weapons you’re wearing—I can go on for hours offering solutions for better holsters, equipment or ammo. Talking about a painting I never personally laid eyes on isn’t doable. What’s so special about this picture, anyway? Kent never did tell me what the fuss was all about and why there was so much interest in it.”

She wouldn’t trust a word out of his mouth until she’d verified it, but at least this was something she could act on. Silence usually wasn’t.

“Fuss? What kind of fuss happened over the piece?” El asked.

Thaddeus licked his lips again, a glint of something she couldn’t label in his eyes.

“Thirsty work, talking,” Thaddeus said with a smirk. “Any chance I can get some tea?”

El weighed the situation for a moment, then lifted her gaze to catch Rob’s eyes. She nodded. He pushed away from the door again, opened it and stuck his head into the corridor. She heard the soft murmur of his voice, most of the words indistinguishable but ‘tea’ and ‘plastic cup’ letting her know her partner had the situation under control.

Robert finished, pulled himself back into the room and closed the door once again. He caught her gaze, nodded, and she threw a quick smile at him, thanking him silently. Knowing this could take a while, El pulled out the chair near her, opposite Thaddeus, and sat.

“So what kind of fuss brewed up over this painting and who else was interested in the Cezanne, Thaddeus?”

Thaddeus crouched, half standing in a bent over position so he could drag the chair closer to the table. This was difficult owing to the restraints chaining him hand and foot, but in a slow process he managed. El’s body had tightened, her senses sharply aware as she watched him carefully, making sure he didn’t palm a weapon or position himself in a manner that could let him spring on her or take advantage.

Satisfied when he sat back down and met her gaze again, she nodded for him to continue.

“I don’t know who Kent—and Luke, I suppose—were going to sell the Cezanne to,” he stated up front, his tone daring her to question him about it. “I overheard a number of conversations and phone calls, though. There was plenty of interest, and at one stage about six weeks ago I had the feeling there might have been another crew out there, wanting to get a jump on us and take the glory for themselves. As far as I’m aware, the plan was to sell the piece via silent auction after they’d gotten what they needed from the picture itself.”

El’s mind quickly jumped on the few important facts. If there had been another crew after the painting, Chelsea and David—the undercover agents they’d had on the inside of
this
team—had not been aware of it. Additionally, it appeared that the painting itself, while incredibly valuable and one of a kind, was not the final goal. Thaddeus had said ‘once they got what they needed from it’, which indicated that the painting itself held secrets.

The entire situation continued to grow more complicated.

Appearing to mistake her silence for annoyance, Thaddeus spoke again after a short pause.

“I’d guess the silent auction was to get the best price, or, hell, for all I know it was to offer the possible other group out to steal it a chance to recoup their reputation.”

A knock interrupted. Rob blocked the entrance with his body, but opened the door to take the single disposable cup from another agent then closed it once again. Without a word, Robert placed the drink in front of Thaddeus, within reach of his chained hands.

El waited for their prisoner to carefully get hold of the cup, lift it to his lips and take a drink. It wasn’t steaming, so El guessed it was the lukewarm tea available at one of the refreshment stations around the office. When Thaddeus had returned the tea, she started again, asking the same questions from a variety of angles— When had these calls taken place? Were they at specific times? International? From known associates or through third party contacts?

With patience she wrung Thaddeus dry. She leaned back only when she was confident he didn’t have anything further to add. They had come up with a depressingly slim amount of new information, but she felt Thaddeus could add no more to their knowledge. Rolling her head back, El glanced at Rob, silently offering him a chance to jump in. If she’d missed something, forgotten to cover a point adequately, or if Rob had an idea on how they could gather more information, she wanted to give him the chance to get his bit in.

Rob’s dark gaze met hers. He seemed to consider his thoughts for a few seconds, then gave a tiny shake of his chin, indicating that he couldn’t think of anything to add.

El let the seconds draw out for a minute. Thaddeus didn’t say a word, seeming happy to sit there until hell froze over. She was done, and Rob didn’t want to add anything further. She stood.

“Either I or another Agent will let you know if this comes to fruition. Thank you for your assistance, Mr Brown.”

She hadn’t taken a step when Rob straightened and opened the door.

“Berecroft, Umbers, you can escort Brown back to solitary holding down on the third floor,” Rob said in a clear voice to the agents out in the corridor.

El came to stand a pace behind Rob, feeling simultaneously pleased with their efforts and frustrated by the lack of closure.

She held her tongue as they both left the interview room. Without a word needing to be said between them, they headed down the corridor to where the lifts and fire exit stairs were situated. They climbed up three flights and left the stairwell, Rob courteously holding the door open for her.

“Thanks,” she murmured distractedly as her mind flew over every word and nuance of the interview. El never took Rob’s chivalry for granted, he was a gentleman to the core, but she wanted to go over everything again while it was fresh, be absolutely certain she hadn’t missed anything.

On their regular floor, El slowed her pace as she thought hard. She walked more from habit than intention to the small area where their desks sat facing one another, carving out a small square of space where they worked, paced, brainstormed and discussed their cases.

‘Office’ was too generous a term for their space, though no other desks or cubicles were set up in the near vicinity. For an open plan area, they had as much privacy as was possible.

“It couldn’t possibly have been simple, could it?” El groaned as she sat in her squishy chair, her body relaxing for the first time in the long day. Both she and Rob had been called in at around three that morning, once the Dublin agents who had been working undercover had realized the Cezanne they’d been trying to protect had not been with Kent or Luke—the smugglers whose ring they were breaking down.

“Thaddeus was our main hope for information.” Rob shrugged. “Neither Kent nor Luke was interested in making a deal, that much was obvious from the start. You got a few nuggets from Thaddeus, enough for us to go on, that was brilliant work. Besides, we’re the clean-up investigators, when are we ever called in for a simple, straightforward job?”

El rubbed tiredly at her eyes as Rob seated himself behind his desk, facing her.

“Have Chelsea and David headed back to Ireland?” she asked, hoping for a moment’s diversion before they got back to the task at hand.

Rob studied her for a minute before he nodded.

“They’re heading off on leave. After eighteen months deep cover and both of them getting pretty banged up at the end there, I’d say it’s the least the Agency can offer. Chelsea seemed pissed off they didn’t—couldn’t—recover the Cezanne, but I think her attention is far more focused on David and the…uh…deepening of their relationship.”

El smiled at Rob. While not strictly forbidden, it was heavily frowned upon to become intimate with your partner. Unless El was
way
off the mark, she felt certain that both Chelsea and David were deeply in love, and far more than casually intimate. Rob grinned, appearing to share her pleasure that they’d found happiness together.