Firewall (23 page)

5:05 P.M. THURSDAY

Grayson and Joe stood outside the interview room where Haden Rollins waited. They studied his body language, viewed his slumped shoulders.

“Look how many times he’s swallowed,” Joe said.

“Right.” Rollins’s tense facial muscles indicated his fear. He should’ve known they were observing him.

With a legal pad tucked under his arm, Grayson opened the door, wishing he could monitor Taryn at the same time. “Good afternoon, Mr. Rollins.”

His gaze narrowed. “If it isn’t Special Agent Hall and a different sidekick.”

“I’m the old guy who’s experienced in nailing the guilty ones.” Joe smiled. “So I’ll sit back and watch while you confess to stealing Gated Labs software and setting up at least three people for murder.” Joe pulled out a chair, not once losing eye contact with Rollins. “I’d like to tack on terrorism for the airport bombing, but you’ll need to fill in a few blanks.”

Rollins startled. “Hold it. I’m not taking the blame for all those crimes.”

Grayson tossed his legal pad and pen on the table. “Why don’t you begin by telling us what you are responsible for?”

“I want a lawyer.”

“Sure,” Grayson said. “We can pose the same questions in front of him.”

Rollins crossed his arms. “Not a word from me.”

“Poor Kinsley.” Grayson jotted the word
lawyer
in big letters on his legal pad.

“Why? What happened?” Rollins stiffened. “Is she all right?”

Grayson raised a brow. “Didn’t you hear?” He stared at Rollins and counted to five before responding. “Her family and friends are unable to find her. We figured you’d killed her, too.”

Rollins moistened his lips. “Kinsley is innocent of any of this.” At the mention of her name, his voice softened.

They were onto something. “Did you use her for your own purposes?”

Rollins shook his head. “I’m not answering your questions until I talk to a lawyer.”

Grayson tapped the top of the desk with his pen. “We could find her and keep her safe if you’d cooperate.”

He rubbed his palms. “You mean without a lawyer?”

“With or without.”

“I didn’t kill anyone. That wasn’t my job. I doubt the airport bombing was a part of the plan. Probably two separate situations.” He scratched his chin. “But I can’t figure out where it’s all headed.”

Grayson nodded, silently offering sincerity. “I can understand how you wouldn’t want to take the blame for something you knew nothing about. Especially with so many dead. What was your job?”

He hesitated, no doubt thinking through pulling the lawyer card. “To secure Nehemiah. Taryn had this tight hold on the project, and I couldn’t access it.” His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists. “I pursued Kinsley, and when I gained her confidence, I worked toward having her replace Taryn as lead developer.”

“Murford hired you?”

“Thought he did.”

“What do you mean?”

“Murford approached me, but I’d already been hired by someone else to keep an eye on him.”

Finally they were getting somewhere. “Who?”

Rollins no longer had the pretty-boy confidence. “Four people from the original team are dead, and I figure I’m on her list too. But I don’t want Kinsley to be next.”

So he loved the woman, at least in his own way. “We’ll do all we can to keep her from being harmed.”

“She’s the only thing I care about. I think this person has eyes everywhere.”

“Is this person in New York City?”

He whispered yes, then shook his head. “No.”

“Haden, where is this person? We have to know everything to stop the killing and investigate the possibility of a link to the airport bombing.”

A streak of fear flashed across his eyes. “What about witness protection?”

First Pedraza and now Rollins. “If necessary and we recommend it.”

“Could Kinsley go with me?”

“If she’s still alive.” Grayson stared into his eyes. “Witness protection may not be her choice.”

“I couldn’t blame her,” Rollins said. “Especially when she finds out the truth.”

Grayson jotted his request on the legal pad and circled it. “So what have you done for this person in New York?”

“I followed orders, like having Murford think he was the boss.”

“What else?”

“I was an expensive gofer in a three-piece suit, and my checks were deposited into a Tokyo account.” Rollins glanced away. “She’s furious Murford didn’t deliver the software, but I never thought he’d end up dead.”

“Have you killed anyone?”

Rollins pressed his palms against the table. “No one. That’s the dividing line.”

“What’s her plan B?”

“She hired a hacker. According to her, he should have Nehemiah working tonight. She’s obsessed with gaining control of the software. Twofold plan: blow up the LNG pipes, which causes prices to rise, and sell the software to the highest bidder.” He paused. “But I doubt that it all happens her way. Taryn had layers of encryption.”

“What’s the woman’s name?”

“She’s an oil and gas trader on Wall Street.”

Just as Grayson and other agents had speculated. “She stands to make millions by manipulating oil and gas prices. Who is she, Haden?”

He swallowed hard. “Iris Ryan. She’s staying at the Westin, where you picked me up. At least she was. Probably gone by now.”

“Why blow up the airport?”

Haden shrugged. “Not sure she lit the fuse on that one.”

6:00 P.M. THURSDAY

Taryn had performed her best acting job with Grayson for their shouting match in the restaurant parking lot. She’d snatched the rental car keys from him and tossed him onto the ground before taking off, leaving him in feigned pain and anger. Hopefully tonight’s news didn’t focus on an FBI agent being deflated by a woman terrorist. Not exactly a boost for his ego.

An e-mail from Save came through just as she left the parking lot, and she forwarded it to Grayson. Save thought he’d gotten through all the layers when something changed, and it was like he was back at square one. Assuming he managed to get through the firewall and attempted to test his ability to regulate temperature and pressure of the liquid natural gas, a virus would destroy his system. Unless he discovered her virus first and figured out how to bypass it.

The deadline was tomorrow morning at six. Who would be killed once the time arrived? Taryn feared Zoey didn’t have a chance either way.

Panic clawed at her, but she’d not give in to its power. She’d offer the same thing she’d done with Murford
 
—a partnership in developing software for whatever they demanded.

She’d not back down now. Wearing the implant injected into her upper left hip, she’d do exactly what the kidnapper wanted to deal for Zoey. She drove north on I-45 toward Huntsville because she had no clue where else to drive. Maybe the kidnapper was still close to the state park and assumed she’d head there first. Her attempt to draw him or her out could be pointless, but she sensed someone watching her every move, and it wasn’t just the FBI. Could that person be the man or woman who held Zoey? Or simply paranoia? She peered into the rearview mirror for a vehicle tailing her. Nothing. So many things in her life were unsettled.

Kinsley Stevens . . . Grayson said contacting her wasn’t wise, but Taryn believed differently, and the burner phone lay on the console. She couldn’t change her unsociable ways of the past, but she could make amends if she didn’t have tomorrow. Remembering Kinsley’s cell phone number, she pressed it in. The young woman answered on the third ring.

“Kinsley, this is Taryn Young. How are you?”

She broke into sobs. “I’m so scared, and I feel so stupid.”

“I know. I’m right there with you. That’s why I called.”

“How . . . kind of you. I’m going to be all right. They say Haden is involved in a conspiracy to steal Nehemiah, and he’s disappeared.”

Taryn chose not to reveal that he was in custody. “It’s hard when you love him, especially when you need the truth but fear it too.”

“Exactly.” Kinsley sucked in a sob. “Oh, Taryn, I don’t know what to believe. He told me horrible things about you, things I realize now were lies. I did attempt to get into your computer.
Haden told me you were hiding things that were valuable to the team. I feel used. Dirty.”

Taryn understood the need for a perpetual shower. “Our IQs aren’t attached to our hearts.”

“I loved him. Still do.” Kinsley’s misery tugged at Taryn’s own betrayal.

“I wish I could help you.”

“Listening helps . . . and I am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Are you safe?”

“Yes. Special Agent Hall suggested I take a leave from work and not tell anyone my location but the FBI. Going crazy thinking. How are you managing?”

Taryn toyed with what to say. Her faith was new, unexplored in talking to others. “This whole mess has caused me to reach out to God.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in a deity, that you were an all-science person.” Shock rose in Kinsley’s voice.

“Oh, that was me. And finding faith is so new that it’s awkward talking about it.”

“I never had much use for the God thing. Impossible to trust what I can’t see.”

Taryn recalled what Grayson had said about his philosophy
 
—how
impossible
wasn’t a word in his book and shouldn’t be in hers. “Wasn’t so long ago I thought the same thing. Faith’s a good healing place to start.”

“Okay,” Kinsley said slowly. “Are you suggesting I start going to church? Get religious?”

“Maybe just talk to Him, like you’re talking to me. See if He responds.”

“Odd, we’re discussing God like this.”

A cleansing freshness settled over Taryn. “I agree. When this is over, I’d like the opportunity to be friends
 
—at the office and outside.”

“I probably won’t have a job at Gated Labs.”

Taryn laughed. “I forgot. I don’t have a job there either. We can stand in the unemployment line together. Drink fast-food coffee until we can afford Starbucks.”

Kinsley’s voice broke and she apologized for her emotions. “Thank you so much for caring enough to call. I really appreciate it. Are you going to be all right?”

She hesitated to answer.

“Taryn?”

“I hope so, but finding a little three-year-old is at the top of my list, then helping to arrest those involved with all the tragedies of the week. A big order when every law enforcement person in the country is working on the same thing.”

“You’ve always followed through on your dreams.”

“Thanks. Talk to you soon, Kinsley.” Taryn ended the call, a bit shaken at her own transparency, yet peaceful.

6:55 P.M. THURSDAY

Taryn wished the sun would stay up a few more hours, but dusk approached, and with it the hidden dangers of night. She stopped at a convenience store and gas station along I-45 past Huntsville State Park. How obvious could she be for someone tailing her?

Agents would be in disguise, and she didn’t want to stare. But knowing where they were sure would go a long way in easing her fears. Rural folks in a banged-up pickup slid beside a gas pump. Two teens smoked outside the store
 
—from their eyes, it wasn’t cigarettes. A truck driver wearing shades and low-riding jeans stepped outside his semi. A middle-aged couple exited a Lexus. None looked like Grayson or Joe, or Clint or Patti, or anyone else she’d seen at the FBI office. Grabbing her purse, Taryn left the rental. She had to call Grayson.

Public restrooms gave her a bit of a phobia after Monday, but she didn’t need a full bladder while in stressed mode. After washing her hands, she made sure no one else occupied the area and keyed in his number.

“Hey. Any signs of company?” Grayson said.

“Nothing. But I need to toss this phone.”

“Why?” The edge in his voice showed his concern.

“I called Kinsley. Don’t say a word. It’s a woman thing. I wanted to let her know I empathized with her situation.” When
he failed to respond, she summoned the courage to explain her actions. “She’s hurting, and I couldn’t go a mile farther down the road without an attempt to console her.”

“The word
crusader
crosses my mind. I don’t approve, but I agree. Toss the phone.”

“There are others around me?”

“Yes. I saw you pull into the convenience store. Are you sure you want to risk continuing this crazy mission? No one would question your backing out.”

“Quitting is not up for debate. Talk to you soon.” She wanted to say more
 
—if nothing else, to thank him for being her friend. With a grim look at her last form of communication, she powered off the phone and tossed it into the trash.

She purchased a bottle of water and a bag of mixed nuts and walked outside. The evening shadows brought a slight breeze, and she let it cool her while drinking the water. A young Hispanic gal sporting five-inch heels and a skirt the same length moved across the parking area. A man who resembled one of the characters from
Duck Dynasty
tipped the bill of his cap
 
—not that she watched the show, but Claire did and described every detail.

A man with his little boy pumped gas.

Don’t stare, Taryn. Act normal. Whatever that is.

She swung her attention to her rental car. A jean-clad man leaned against it, arms crossed and wearing a smirk. Blond shoulder-length hair swept back from his face, and he wore a diamond stud in his ear. No doubt this was the man Grayson had warned her about. The chameleon. What was the purpose of sending an assassin? Fear gripped her . . . but if his intentions were to kill her, she’d already be in a pool of blood.

Stage time. She capped her bottle of water and walked toward him. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses dangled from his right hand.

“You’ve been expecting me,” he said with no accent, not even a distinguishable hint from a part of the US.

“Wondered when you’d make your appearance.” She prayed her trembling hands wouldn’t give her away. “I’m ready to deal.”

“Really?” He took her bag of nuts and opened them. “Love these things. Full of antioxidants to ward off disease. . . . Makes a person live longer.” He dipped his hand into the bag. “Do you mind if I help myself? Looks like we have something in common.”

He knew where the kidnapper held Zoey, and that was in-common enough.

“I’m not vegan, though,” he said with his mouth full. “Nothing like a thick rare steak.” He winked.

Did he flirt with all his prey? “You know my habits. But I’m not surprised.”

“What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

“So am I.” She maintained a steady gaze into his dark eyes. Showing distress would be her downfall.

“We’ll see. I detected one carload of your FBI friends, and I’m sure there’re others. One hint of trouble, and you’re dead. Understand?” He spoke through a smile as though they were old friends. Or more.

Taryn ventured closer to him. “I’m not working with the FBI or any law enforcement agency. They failed to deliver Zoey.”

“I saw your dissatisfaction. Ready to take a ride?” He pointed toward a black Escalade and slipped on his sunglasses. “We’ll take mine. No way to trace us.” He took her hand. “Don’t try anything because I’ll stick a knife in you before you can swing a fist or leg.”

“I want to retrieve Zoey. Nothing else.”

He kissed her cheek. A brief reminder of Murford . . . only more deadly.

“Since when does a professional assassin get personal with his target?”

Wallace laughed. “When the money’s good.”

“For me, it’s all about a little girl who needs rescued.”

“Then let’s get it done, my auburn-haired beauty. Murford had good taste.” He escorted her to the Escalade and opened the door.
Glancing about, he pulled her close and planted a hard kiss. She recoiled, his cologne a woodsy scent that she’d never forget. “Most women enjoy this,” he whispered in her ear. His hands trailed over her body, and she stiffened. “Relax. Got to make sure you’re not armed.” He stepped back, obviously satisfied she didn’t pose a threat. He’d touched her hip where the tracking implant rested, but he hadn’t lingered there.

He gestured for her to climb into his vehicle. Once she was seated, he took her purse and crammed it into a Walmart plastic bag. “Stay right here. Buckle up. I’m a fast driver.” He slammed the door and took the plastic bag containing her purse to the trash.

He waved across the way as though they were . . . together.

I can handle this.
She waved back just to prove she could.

Sliding into the driver’s side, he yanked something out of the console and aimed it her direction.

She startled. “Are you taking my picture?”

“Not exactly. This device disables implants, like the one in your rear.”

Hide your panic. God’s in control, not this hired killer.
The FBI wouldn’t abandon her. They were watching and would follow. And they’d attempt a rescue when necessary.

He turned the air-conditioning to full blast, then dropped his keys into the cup holder. “I don’t want you going to sleep,” he said.

“Are you afraid your presence will bore me?”

He slapped her face. She refused to cry out or touch where her cheek and eye stung. A banner rolled across her mind with the first rule of engagement:
Don’t make Cameron Wallace angry.

“Where are we going?” she said, regaining her composure.

“Where it’s quiet, secluded.”

“Am I going to learn what this is about?”

“What part?” He whipped the SUV north onto I-45.

“All of it.”

He flashed her a smile full of pearly white teeth as though he hadn’t hit her. “I don’t ask questions from those paying the bills.”

“How can you plea-bargain without leverage?”

“My dossier states how many times I’ve been caught.”

None, which was terrifying. “How were you tracking me?”

He grinned. “Pure instinct.”

An animal. “Why the airport bombing?”

“Not my baby. I have a very specific job description.”

If Cameron Wallace hadn’t been responsible, then who was? The contact in New York?

“Are the wheels turning?” he said.

“What do you want from me?”

“You don’t know?” He laughed. “Take a wild guess.”

She twisted her shoulder in a desperate attempt to flirt. “Software access.”

“Smart girl. But there’re a few more demands.”

“Enlighten me.” Whoever Wallace worked for wouldn’t be content with just access to Nehemiah. Would Taryn be forced to design something catastrophic?

“I’ll let someone else explain it to you.”

That meant she was worth more alive than dead. At least for the present. “How is the software connected to the bombing?”

“Maybe my boss will tell you.”

“The one in New York?”

“Could be. What else is going on inside your pretty head of a 150 IQ?”

What didn’t he know about her? “I’m thinking. I’d like to work a deal, go into partnership with whoever wants the software. I can develop anything your boss wants. In fact, I made the same offer to Murford.”

“I know. He fell for it, but my contract has a narrower scope.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t work for your boss. I have top-level secret clearance.”

He sneered. “The password to access the software is now in the boss’s hands. Your talk is worthless.”

“Do you think I’d program something that easy to get into?”

“My info said the hacker and the buyer tested it.”

She shrugged. “Believe what you want. I thought we were making a deal for Zoey.”

“The terms have changed.”

Play the game, Taryn. Don’t show your emotions.
“Is she alive?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know anything about a woman named Zoey.”