Cold Light of Day (7 page)

Had
he
been welcoming?

Matt paused. He wasn’t sure. He’d been focused on his own issues and his own cases. Still was. He slowed. “Boss needs you inside. Possible kidnap situation but don’t tell the parents.”

“Thank you, Agent Lazlo,” she said coolly.

He slowed further. The woman had recently gone head-to-head with a serial killer who’d kidnapped her identical twin sister eighteen years ago. She was probably more experienced with the work they did than he gave her credit for. “Call me Matt.”

Her smile hit her eyes and he figured he hadn’t been that friendly. He’d make the effort to do better, but right now, he didn’t have time.

His mind moved to the mission ahead. He went to the trunk and pulled on one of the Kevlar vests TacOps kept there—they’d borrowed the vehicle, along with less obvious clothing, from Jon Regan to save time going to the BAU building or home. TacOps had just come off a local job when they’d received the call about Sarah/Scarlett and hadn’t had a chance to unload the SUV. The trunk was packed with goodies they might need for a tactical raid, along with city work vests, traffic cones, every lock pick known to man, a small stash of C4, a big bag of dog treats and some tranquilizers for when the dog biscuits didn’t work.

The vehicle was probably electronically tagged, which might be a good thing as they didn’t have much time to plan this op. At least if they wound up dead TacOps would get their toys back.

Parker joined him and geared up, fast and efficient. That, and the fact Frazer was sending him out with Matt into a dangerous situation, told him the rumors were true. The guy wasn’t your typical desk-jockey, computer nerd.

“Where’re we going?” Matt asked.

“North end of Virginia Avenue. Near the river. The park near the boat club.”

Matt checked his weapon and watched the guy beside him do the same. Loaded his pockets with spare ammo. “Know anything about any of this?”

Parker shook his head. “Stone was before my time.”

Fourteen years ago, Matt had been enduring BUD/s. Proudest day of his life when he passed. Afterward, he’d been too busy training to pay much attention to a man selling secrets to Russia, except to despise him on principle.

Matt climbed in the driver’s seat. Alex took shotgun.

Matt drove fast, lights on, sirens off. “Pretty bold to kidnap a congressman’s daughter.”

“The Russians aren’t exactly shrinking violets. These guys don’t mess around when they’re pissed. Dorokhov has a reputation for being hot-tempered and nasty when crossed. Not a great quality in a diplomat, but he’s connected. You were a Navy SEAL?”

Matt raised a brow. He didn’t talk about his past much. Or ever. “You hack into everyone’s file or am I special?”

“Everyone.” Parker never took his eyes off the laptop on his knees. “I like to know who I’m working with.”

“Who your fiancée is working with, more like.” Matt eyed him narrowly out of his side vision.

Parker was busy typing on the computer but Matt knew he had his complete and utter attention. “I protect the people I love,” the guy said simply.

Matt wanted to take offense on Rooney’s behalf, but he understood the mentality. He’d felt the same way about his brothers on the teams. Been willing to kill and die for every one of them. He had friends in the FBI, but nothing like that forged-in-steel bond. He missed it. “You were Army?”

Parker raised a brow. He wasn’t the only one who liked to know who he was working with. Alex Parker was a Distinguished Cross recipient and had seen plenty of action in the sandbox.

“Spotted your lobotomy scar.” Matt smirked. “How many Army cadets does it take to screw in a light bulb?”

“One. He just holds the bulb and expects the world to revolve around him.” Parker grinned. “Why’d you get out of the teams?” And he obviously liked the hard questions.

“Not something you can do forever.” Matt shrugged like he didn’t care and didn’t miss it. Not that he’d pass a polygraph and doubted he fooled Parker.

“FBI must seem pretty tame after jumping out of airplanes and kicking down doors.”

“You tell me.” Matt eased back in his seat, making himself relax even as adrenaline drummed hard through his veins. “Rumor has it you were CIA?”

“It isn’t like being a soldier. I don’t miss it.” Parker’s expression was implacable, but shadows in his eyes suggested he’d gone to hell and back. The Agency was good at clandestine, but it didn’t make them easy to work for.

The glance Parker sent him also told him that he knew exactly what Matt’s old career had meant to him. The military family might bitch and squabble, but they were still family. The Agency operated differently. Matt wondered exactly what the man had done, but knew better than to ask.

“Got anything new?” Matt asked, referring to the computer Parker was working on.

“No,” Parker said quietly. “But I’m worried about both women.”

Matt snorted. “The little witch conned me.”

“Scarlett Stone is screwed, whatever happens. If the Russians catch her she’s gonna get hurt or dead, but if the US government catches her… The FBI can wave their hands in the air and claim they had nothing to do with any spying on the Russians. A woman like that, caught on tape? She’s the ultimate fall guy.”

“A woman like what?” Matt bit out. The idea of everyone watching that video drove him crazy, which was stupid.

“Smart, attractive, wearing a fantasy dress and heels, waltzing right into the Russian Ambassador’s residence under false pretenses, her father being who he is? They could lock her up and throw away the key. She’s the ultimate in deniability.”

Matt gritted his teeth. “She never even planted the bug.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Dammit.

He shouldn’t give a fuck. Scarlett was nothing to him. She’d lied to his face and probably caused a major diplomatic incident that might reflect badly on him and his career. Unlike certain society princesses, he needed his damned job. Angel LeMay was missing and God knew what the Russians might do to her if they didn’t get what they wanted. Not to mention the congressman who was going to go ballistic if they didn’t bring Angel back unharmed and soon. The whole situation was a rubber-stamped goatfuck. But the look he’d seen in her eyes earlier tonight. The spark of something elemental that had buzzed between them… His insides twisted.

He pressed his foot hard on the accelerator and controlled the need to blow through every red light in the city. The lack of intel on the situation bothered him but Scarlett—assuming she turned up to try and save her friend—was in real danger, and for some reason he couldn’t stand the idea of her in pain.

There was a quiet ping on the laptop and Parker pulled up a file. Whistled. “She might be terrible at tradecraft, but when I didn’t recognize the device she tried to plant—and trust me, if it’s patented, I’d be able to ID it—I checked her out in a bit more depth.”

“What did you find?” His interest was piqued despite himself. He pulled his weapon from his holster and rested it in his lap. They were almost there. He turned off the cherry lights.

“Scarlett Stone isn’t just a pretty face. She’s a top research scientist at Georgetown. Has a degree in microelectronics, and a post-graduate degree in solid-state physics, specializing in application-specific integrated circuits. Earned her Ph.D. at twenty-two.”

“Are you telling me she built her own listening device? Jesus.”

They had a visual on the river. Parker closed the laptop. He flicked the switch on the overhead dome light as Matt doused the headlights. Matt pulled over on the side of the road about twenty yards before the turn for the Rock Creek Park Trails parking lot. Alex Parker tossed him something out of the glove box. NVGs. Might come in handy.

“I’ll go north along the river, you go around the eastern side of the park?”

Parker nodded.

“You any good with that SIG?” Matt asked.

Parker’s voice held a trace of amusement. “Not bad.”

Good. Matt slid out of the car. He’d feel better with more backup but there wasn’t time, and a deluge of cops would scatter parties to the four winds. They needed to find both women before someone got hurt. The time for fun and games was over.

*     *     *

Scarlett hunched further
into her coat as she shivered uncontrollably. She was hidden amongst the trees, not far from the creek that gave the park its name. A bush rustled beside her and her heart exploded in a staccato rhythm that sent a pain shooting along one rib. She gripped her chest. Sighed with relief as something small scampered away. A squirrel.

Tonight had been a lesson in sticking to what she was good at, which in her case was physics. How could she ever have thought she’d get away with this? Sure she could make a listening device, but planting it without anyone knowing? Dream on.

It had taken her nearly the full thirty minutes to get here on foot, running most of the way. Her lungs were burning from the effort. Bare branches clattered overhead, stripped of their leaves by the harsh, winter wind. She had no gun, no one to call for help. The man on the phone had said no cops and the LeMays would definitely involve the police if they found out. The man on the phone hadn’t sounded like someone you messed with. He’d sounded like a scary-assed, Russian hit man.

She did not know how to deal with a hit man.

Her fingers hovered over 9-1-1 on her keypad. Her father had taught her to trust the men and women in uniform, but they’d betrayed him, and her personal experiences hadn’t been great. Once law enforcement realized Scarlett and her mother believed Richard Stone was innocent despite his guilty plea, cops had little sympathy. However, a congressman’s daughter had been kidnapped so rescuing her would be a priority…assuming they believed her story and arrived in the next five minutes.

Dammit.

There was also the minor fact that if the police discovered what she’d tried to do tonight, she would go to jail. With her father’s cancer progressing rapidly, she might not get out in time to say goodbye. She might never see him again.

What a fool.

She didn’t think the Russians would kill her for trying to plant a bug, especially when she’d messed up so spectacularly. The Cold War was over and she hadn’t gleaned any secrets, big or small. Maybe they’d scare her a little. Rough her up. Try and get her to work for them, give them the heads up on a few technological advances not written up in the peer-review journals.

They’d definitely punish her, but she could take it. She shivered harder.

If Angel hadn’t been in danger she might have run away for a few days hoping they’d forget about her, but her friend had stood by Scarlett during the worst time of her life. Angel hadn’t had a clue as to what Scarlett had tried to do tonight, which made the betrayal worse.

Angel was innocent and Scarlett was stupid—a humbling role reversal.

Maybe everyone was right about letting this go. Her father had been incarcerated for fourteen years. He was going to die in prison. It would take a miracle to prove his innocence and although it might be Christmas, life was a little short on miracles.

Beg forgiveness. Get Angel to safety. Take her punishment. Concentrate on work.

She shivered as the cold wind snuck between her scarf and her skin. Voices echoed from near the ferry terminal. She peered into the darkness but saw nothing.

The parking lot had two empty cars in it and the trails seemed deserted. Maybe she’d come to the wrong place? She bit her lip. She’d checked the sign and this was the place the man had specified. As she peered into the distance, she saw a gang of youths enter the park from the southern entrance near the road. Crap. She slipped further into the shadows and hoped her heart didn’t give out from the stress. This cloak and dagger stuff wasn’t good for her health. Who in their right mind would want to be a spy?

She didn’t think the gang had seen her. With shaking hands, she sank to the base of a tree and hugged herself, wishing she’d obeyed her instincts and never gone near the Russians.

It was up to the kidnapper to make the next move.

*     *     *

The quiet rush
of the Potomac flowing close-by drowned out any telltale sounds. The boat club was nearby, the Georgetown Ferry terminus due west, but at this time of night this area was quiet and dark. A group of gang-bangers moved further along the trails—if they were looking for trouble they were probably going to find it, but not from him. Matt slipped on the NVGs and stood silently scoping out the area in flattened green monotone. The wind whistled through the branches overhead as he wound his way carefully around sturdy tree trunks. Every sense was on high alert for Scarlett Stone, Angel LeMay, or the kidnapper. Alex Parker should be around the other side of the lot by now. Matt didn’t see any sign of the man, though he knew he was there.

He spotted something. A figure huddled at the base of a tree, arms wrapped protectively around itself. He scanned the rest of the area but saw nothing. Two cars sat in the lot but both appeared empty. Carefully he edged closer to the hunched figure. Was it someone involved in Scarlett’s mess, or just a homeless person looking for a quiet place out of the bitter wind? He couldn’t tell what was in their hands. Were they armed? His hand rested on his SIG Sauer, ready to pull his weapon if they spotted him.

The light of a cell phone revealed the delicate features of a young woman—Scarlett Stone. But in the NVGs, the glare was so bright he had to blink and look away. A second later the sound of a high-power rifle shot tore through the night.

Goddammit
.

Scarlett yelped and rolled to the side, then scrambled into a crouched run as another shot scored the trunk where she’d been sitting just a moment earlier. Matt raced flat out toward her and managed to hook an arm and drag her behind a tree just wide enough to shelter them both. She screamed so he clamped a hand over her mouth and hauled her against him. She struggled furiously and he could barely hold on.

“Keep still, dammit. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled in her ear.

She went stiff as a corpse.

Did she recognize his voice from earlier tonight? The idea gave him a strange sense of savage satisfaction. He didn’t know why it mattered. She was a job now, nothing more. Her head strained against his hand, trying to look up at his face, but it was too dark for her to see anything and he was wearing goggles.