Special Forces Savior (13 page)

Chapter Twenty

Molly felt like a clown with all the makeup she had on. She knew it was just to cover up any traces of the bruises, but it was so unnatural for her. Especially considering on any given day Molly didn’t remember to even brush her hair—thank goodness it could be easily braided and put out of the way—much less put on eyeliner and all the other things currently being applied to her face by Andrea Gordon.

Molly knew looking like Andrea was important because of the security cameras at all Omega doors, including the older section of the building they’d be entering. She appreciated the other woman’s willingness to let her use her ID card. Of course, Andrea had only done so after making a call to Steve Drackett to be certain everything about this situation was on the up-and-up.

“I look ridiculous,” Molly said for at least the fifth time.

“You don’t look ridiculous,” Derek called out from the other room.

“He’s right, you know. You don’t look ridiculous, you just look a little different from what you’re used to yourself normally looking like.” Andrea continued putting on the makeup. “This is only so you’ll look like me for whatever security guard is watching the monitors.”

How was Molly supposed to ever look like Andrea? There wasn’t enough makeup in the world to give Molly Andrea’s classic cheekbones and full lips, a perky nose that was just a bit crooked, like maybe it had been broken at one time. She always had immaculate makeup and hair: chic, shoulder-length blond bob.

And she always wore heels.

Molly sighed. Next to Andrea, Molly looked like what she was: a scientist who always chose sensible shoes.

But right now Molly had on a gray pencil skirt and dark blouse, both borrowed from Andrea. She’d wanted pants, but she was too short to wear any of Andrea’s. So skirt it was.

Molly looked different.

“You’ve got a pretty pained expression there,” Andrea said. “I’m nearly done. Torture is almost over.”

“And it’s not what you’re doing. It’s just that the makeup is pretty much a representation of everything I’m not.”

“Good,” Andrea told her. “Makeup should never be a representation of what you are.”

Although the statement was true, it struck Molly as a little odd coming from the other woman, especially since she was applying the makeup with such skill. Molly realized that even though they’d both worked at Omega for years, she didn’t really know Andrea. Molly didn’t know if anyone really did. The woman tended to keep to herself.

“Do you have sisters?” she asked.

The question obviously caught the other woman off guard. “Um, no. Why?”

“You’re just really good at doing other people’s makeup. I thought maybe you practiced on sisters growing up.”

“No. I had a...job when I was younger that involved makeup.”

A job when she was younger? Andrea couldn’t be more than twenty-three or twenty-four. It didn’t seem likely that she’d had a career before the one she had at Omega as a profiler. She must be referring to something part-time in high school or college.

“Oh, okay, like at the cosmetics counter at the mall?”

Andrea smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Something like that. But it was a long time ago.” She continued applying the makeup in silence.

Molly hadn’t meant to bring up a painful past. Time to change the subject. “Thank you for your help.”

Andrea shrugged. “I’m willing to do anything I can to bring down those bastards who bombed Chicago. But to be honest, I’m doing this because Steve Drackett asked me to. I owe him, more than one.”

“Well, either way, I appreciate it.”

The other woman smiled and this time the smile did reach her eyes. “Okay, makeup’s done. No more bruises in sight. Let’s get the wig on you.”

Andrea had brought a wig similar to her own blond bob. Actually the woman had a number of different wigs in the trunk she’d opened with the makeup, but Molly didn’t want to ask her why after how the last questions had gone. Maybe she’d been involved with community theater.

Andrea tucked Molly’s braid under a cap, then slipped the blond wig on her. She took Molly to stand in front of the full-length mirror in her room.

Molly couldn’t control the little gasp that escaped her. Not only were all her bruises covered, but Andrea had done something with her eyes that made them smoky...sexy. While standing there in the other woman’s clothes, with the other woman’s hair, and makeup that made her face look exotic and sexy, all Molly could wonder was what would Derek think?

Even after the great night of lovemaking, Molly couldn’t help but consider, if she looked like this, dressed like this, would Derek have been able to keep his distance over the past three years?

Maybe this was more of what he really wanted? It certainly would be a better fit aesthetically. Someone like the person looking at her in the mirror—poised, well-dressed, put-together—someone like Andrea should be with Derek. Not Mousy Molly.

“Whoa. Holy cow.”

It was Jon. He and Derek were standing in the doorway. Jon’s mouth was gaping almost embarrassingly wide.

“You look totally amazing, Molls,” he said.

Molly couldn’t even look over at Derek. What if he was like Jon and really liked what he saw? Molly couldn’t look like this every day. Even without the wig, Molly still wouldn’t look like this.

Could never look like this.

Not to mention how impractical it would be in the lab. Heels?

Plus her hair was brown.

Did Derek wish she looked like this?

Finally Molly glanced over at him. Although he was looking at her, his face was completely shuttered.

“I think it’s enough to get her through a security check,” Andrea said. “It wouldn’t fool someone who knows us, but it will get you through the door.”

Molly nodded. Yeah, she may not look exactly like Andrea, but she definitely didn’t look like herself.

Derek still hadn’t said anything. And Molly couldn’t read anything—pleasure or displeasure—in his expression.

“All right, let’s get this show on the road,” Jon said. “Andrea, you’ve been a lifesaver. Thanks so much.” He walked out of the room with the other woman.

Molly couldn’t take it anymore. “So what do you think?” She gestured at herself with her hand.

He studied her a moment longer, from her sophisticated blond coif down to her heeled shoes. The shoes weren’t as high as Andrea normally wore, but were still unusual for Molly.

“I think you’ll pass without any problem. Anyone looking at a scanned ID picture who didn’t have reason to think otherwise, would probably mistake you for Andrea.”

He turned to walk out of the room, but Molly touched his arm.

“That’s not what I meant, Derek.” She immediately wished she had just let him go. Was she
trying
to get him to admit he wished she was gorgeous like Andrea?

She heard Derek take a breath through his nose as he turned around.

“What did you mean?” His blue eyes were cold.

“I guess I—I meant what do you think of this new look?” Damn it, now she was stuttering again.

His eyes softened at her slight stammer. He took a step closer. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.” No. Why was she asking him this? She was setting him up to hurt her, and she was a fool.

He looked her over again one more time.

“I wish I could tear these clothes off your body.” His voice was even more deep and gravelly than usual.

Molly looked down at her feet and closed her eyes. She knew that he would be more attracted to her like this, with all her physical flaws hidden by makeup and great clothes and high heels. Why had she forced him to tell her?

She felt his fingers under her chin. “Molly.”

She didn’t open her eyes, because if she did she was afraid the tears she could feel gathering might make their way out. Then she would really be mortified.

“Molly. Look at me.” His tone brooked no refusal, but she still kept her eyes shut.

She felt his lips on hers. He kissed the side of her mouth, running his tongue over her lower lip, then drew back just the slightest bit. “Look at me, Molly. Right now.”

This time she opened her eyes.

“Yes, I want to rip all these clothes off you. The wig and makeup, too. Because all this stuff is not you. Could never be you. And I wouldn’t want it to be.”

“Really?”

He kissed her again on the lips, softy. “Yes, very definitely really.”

“I was afraid—”

He smiled. “I know what you were afraid of. And Andrea’s look is for some men, absolutely. But I find myself drawn to long-haired brunettes wearing little-to-no makeup, generally found with their eye stuck to some microscope. Know any of those?”

“Just so happens I do.” Molly could actually feel the happiness welling up inside her.

“Good. Now let’s get going so we can put all this sneaking-you-into-buildings stuff behind us.”

He grabbed her hand and they started out of the room, but he paused and turned to her. “I have to admit, I do like the heels. Puts you exactly at the right height for kissing.” And he proceeded to demonstrate.

* * *

D
EREK
WANTED
TO
KISS
every bit of the lipstick off Molly’s face. Then take off all the rest of the makeup she had on, followed by that ridiculous wig and those clothes that she looked not quite comfortable in.

Then he wanted to make love to her. Her. Molly Humphries. Not some blonde, uncomfortable impersonation of someone else.

“Hey, don’t smudge that lipstick,” Derek heard Andrea say a few moments later.

He stepped back from Molly. “Sorry.”

But smiled as Molly walked past him into the kitchen.

“I saw your aversion to how she looks. Good for you,” Andrea told him.

“Nothing personal to either you or your handiwork. It’s just not who she is.”

Andrea nodded. “You know, her crush on you is pretty legendary at Omega.” She shrugged. “But seeing you now, I realize you’re the one who has fallen.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to say to that. He shrugged. “I just want to keep her alive and safe.”

“And with you,” Andrea murmured.

Derek could see why Andrea had the reputation of being the most gifted profiler at Omega. Especially for being so young. At least everything but her eyes were young. Her eyes were much older than whatever number her birth certificate said she was. The woman turned and followed the path Molly had taken to the kitchen.

They grabbed a bite to eat, some soup Andrea had available, but Derek could tell every moment they delayed was making Molly more jumpy. He squeezed her knee under the table and she smiled at him, but her smile was tight.

Finally the text came from Liam that everything was clear.

“You ready?” Derek asked Molly. She nodded. He looked over at Jon who nodded, too.

“Thanks, Andrea. I’ll get this stuff back to you as soon as possible,” Molly told the other woman before hugging her. Andrea was stiff for just a moment, as if she wasn’t used to being hugged, before she put her arms around Molly and patted her back.

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling up at Omega. Jon drove all the way around to the farthest side of the building, far from the main entrance. Derek knew that even at this late hour there would be dozens of armed operatives inside.

This was a terrible idea.

“I’m not so sure about this, you guys.” Derek had a bad feeling.

But it was Molly who was the voice of reason. “No, we’ve come this far. This will work. Let’s just do it.”

They parked and walked up to the door. Derek scanned his card first, then Jon, then finally Molly using Andrea’s card. They pretended to chat while they waited for whoever was watching the security camera to buzz them in.

Now it was Molly’s turn to be worried. “This isn’t working. It’s taking too long,” she whispered under her breath, too quiet to be picked up by the audio feed.

Derek and Jon laughed as if she’d made a joke and continued talking nonsense about a football game.

But as a few more moments ticked on, Derek began to agree. He glanced at Jon. Had the security personnel figured out who Molly was? That she wasn’t Andrea? Would there be agents here to arrest her at any moment?

To run now would be hugely suspicious. But he didn’t want them to stay if it was leading to disaster. He reached down and grabbed Molly’s hand, and felt her fingers grip his tightly. Both she and Jon were having the same thoughts as him.

Derek was about to turn and have them run, damned how it looked. He had to get Molly out of there.

Then they all heard the electronic buzz of the door being unlocked and opened. They were in.

Chapter Twenty-One

Finally, a real lab. Molly was aware of the price they’d paid to get her here. Derek and Jon, and even Andrea and Liam, were all risking their careers by getting Molly into this lab. Because they believed what she was doing was vital.

Molly didn’t plan to let them down.

Even though it felt strange, she kept Andrea’s blond wig on. She’d probably need it to get back out of the building.

The first thing she wanted to do was to start running the prints she’d already gotten through AFIS on the much faster computer than the one at the training lab. It should give them results within the hour.

Much more difficult was the process of accessing the data drive of this comm device. Because of the burn damage she was going to have to chemically remove the top layer of the device in order to access the drive. It was tricky, and like she’d told the guys, she’d only get one chance at it—if she didn’t get it the first time, then the opportunity was lost. Molly donned gloves and set the comm device, still in the bag, out on the table.

Her operation would have to be done in the clean room, since any air particles—dust, allergens, dirt—could combine with the gasses and chemicals she’d be using and contaminate the surface area of the device, making the recovery of any data from the drive impossible.

Of course, air particles were better than heat elements. Anything remotely flammable near these chemicals and Omega would be losing its second lab in a week. But Molly wasn’t really worried about that.

Unlike the training lab, this one was fully stocked and functional. Gathering the materials took Molly a little while since she wasn’t as familiar with the layout, but at least everything she needed was here. She would much rather have been working in her lab. She cringed when she thought about poor David. Things might be bad for Molly, but at least she was alive.

Once she had everything ready, she walked over to where Jon and Derek sat near the door. “Okay, I’m going into the clean room. It will take me a while to get into my dust-particle suit. To be honest, I’m not sure how long the process itself will take me. It depends on how many layers of the comm device are burnt and the status and stability of the data drive itself.”

Derek stood and kissed her on the nose. “Let’s get this done so we can get your name cleared and you can go back to being a brunette.”

“That would be my pleasure. I really hope we find something.”

“Somebody has gone to way too much trouble to make sure we don’t get this far,” he told her. “We’ll find something.”

As long as Molly didn’t screw up getting the data. She took a deep breath.

“I can do this.”

His large hands came up and cupped Molly’s face. “I have no doubts whatsoever.”

She turned to the side and kissed his palm. “You won’t be able to come into the clean room. I can’t take a phone or anything in there, either.”

“Then I’ll see you when you’re done.”

Molly nodded and, grabbing the evidence on a special plastic tray, headed back to the clean room. First she went into the changing area on the outside. She put on her protective clothing: coveralls, boots, gloves, hood and face mask. Opening the airlock door, she set the tray with the comm device inside. She closed the outer airlock door and locked it—it was lockable on both sides—then waited for the air shower. The strong blast of air filtered through ultralow particulate air filters removing any contaminants from her person and the evidence bag.

Only after all that was done could she open the second door and exit the airlock into the clean room itself. The only sound she could hear was her own breathing. She wasn’t in a clean room very often. Most evidence didn’t call for its use, and when cases did call for it, she generally let someone else do the work. It was a unique experience, the quiet, the overall isolation. Molly imagined it was similar to what astronauts must feel.

The entire room was surrounded by glass except for the floor and ceiling. The table in the middle contained all the items she needed to access the data drive from the device, removing the burnt layers. The outer shell wasn’t as important, since they already had the fingerprints from it. Molly used a helium-neon laser to carefully cut away the outer layer. Then using hydrofluoric and hydrochloric acid in very controlled doses she was able to eat away some of the burnt layers attached to the drive.

It was repetitive and exhausting work, eliminating the unwanted, damaged parts bit by bit, without hurting the important data drive underneath. The wig itched, but she ignored it. She ignored every discomfort and focused on the task at hand.

Until finally she had made enough of an opening in the device to carefully remove the drive.

As near as she could tell, it was relatively undamaged by either her workings or the fire. She carefully placed it into a new evidence bag. It was barely bigger than her thumbnail. Now they would get it to a computer and see if it was worth all the pain it had caused.

Molly stepped back into the airlock, closed the clean room door and began stripping off the protective gear. There wasn’t as much need for care coming out as going in and she was back into the regular part of the lab in just a couple of minutes.

Jon and Derek were huddled around the computer at the desk.

Derek saw Molly. “How’d it go? You looked pretty intense in there.”

Molly held up the bag holding the small data drive. “As near as I can tell it is undamaged.”

“We got a hit on AFIS while you were in there. The prints came back from our dead guy.”

“He was in the system?”

“Multiple times over.” Jon responded, but was still staring at the screen. “And it’s not good. Although weird as hell.”

Molly put the drive down carefully on the table and walked over to them. “Who is it?”

“Not necessarily who as much as who he’s associated with. The White Revolution Party, a white supremacy militant group out of Idaho.” Both Derek’s and Jon’s faces were grim.

“That’s not who you thought was responsible for the Chicago bombing?” she asked.

“We were considering them. We pretty much always consider them for everything. They’re dangerous and brutal,” Jon said.

Derek nodded. “So we were investigating them, but they were still part of a pretty long list, and not even near the top of it. But it always sucks even worse when you find out your terrorists are homegrown. Of course, it could also explain how someone in the government could more easily be in bed with them.”

“Let’s see if we can find out anything more useful on this thing.” She carefully took the drive out and connected it to the computer equipment whose primary function was to read any usable data from a drive or any working portion of one.

Data began to flicker on the screen, plans for the Chicago bombing and then pictures.

“That’s Lenny Sydney, leader of the White Revolution Party,” Jon announced. “All of these guys are White Revolution.”

Picture after picture of people in the terrorist group looking at plans for the bombing.

And with them was Senator Robert Edmundson. Obviously involved in the planning.

Derek’s curse was angry. Guttural.

“That son of a bitch personally thanked me last week for all I was doing,” Derek said. “Called us and asked what he could do to help us get some traction on whoever was responsible for Chicago.”

Jon shook his head. “Offered us his personal contacts overseas if that’s what was needed.”

“Why would he take all these pictures?” Molly asked. “He has to know that these would be highly incriminating.”

“Look at them.” Derek pointed to the screen. “The way no one is looking at the same place at the same time. The weird angle. These were taken without either party knowing.”

“Somebody was trying to blackmail Edmundson, or have leverage over him,” Jon stated.

Derek’s phone began ringing in his hand. He immediately put it on Speaker.

“You’ve got perfect timing, Drackett. You are never going to believe what we found on the drive we recovered.”

“Derek—”

“Senator Robert Edmundson is our player within the government, Steve.”

“What?”

“I’m looking at irrefutable proof that he is tied to the White Revolution Party and that they planned the Chicago bombing together.”

“Damn it.”

Nobody wanted to think of someone with the caliber and charisma of Edmundson being behind an attack that took American lives.

“Exactly how we felt,” Jon said.

“Well, we’ve got even more immediate problems,” Drackett continued. “Whatever prints you ran connected to the guy from the White Revolution Party? That triggered some sort of alarm with Internal Affairs—obviously Edmundson was waiting to see if anyone would try to run that data,” Steve said.

Molly looked over at Derek. The words
alarm
coupled with
Internal Affairs
did not sound good.

“What exactly are we talking about here, Steve?” Derek asked him.

“Local law enforcement are right outside the building, looking for Molly.”

“To hell with that.” Derek barely let Steve get the sentence out before he responded. “No way. This is a witch hunt set up by Edmundson to track Molly down and silence her. Now we’ve got proof of Edmundson’s guilt. It won’t take a judge five minutes to give us a warrant once they see this.”

“I agree. But unfortunately I’m not in charge of what is happening outside right now. I was called away from the building, probably on purpose, right as the locals were being called in. I’m on my way back now. But they’re going to breech the building in the next five minutes.”

“To hell with that,” Derek repeated again. “What’s your ETA, Steve?”

“At least fifteen minutes.”

Derek looked at Molly. “I’m sorry, Steve.” Derek clicked off the phone before the director had a chance to respond.

He turned to Jon. “I’m not letting them take her. I’ll sneak her out or use force if necessary. But I’m not turning her over while Edmundson is still out there.”

“Then I’m going with you. You can’t go out there blind, alone. If she—”

Seriously, they were going to talk about her as if she wasn’t even in the room? “Hey, I’m right here! I’d like to be included in this conversation.”

They at least looked at her, although both seemed committed to their current course of action.

She continued, “Look, before we do anything crazy like rush out there guns blazing and just get ourselves killed like Edmundson wants, let’s think this through. If you sneak me out or use any sort of force, won’t that be considered aiding and abetting a known fugitive?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Derek said.

“Derek, it
does
matter. You both are going to lose your jobs over this, and you know it. Steve isn’t going to be able to help you and even when my name is cleared there’s a good chance that it won’t be enough to save your careers.”

“Molly, I’m not sending you out there,” Derek said, tone clearly uninterested in further discussion.

Molly looked at Jon, hoping he could be persuaded to see reason.

Jon just shrugged. “I’m with him, Molls. Your life is not worth it.”

Why wouldn’t they see reason?

“Look, you said it yourself. A judge will give you a warrant for Edmundson’s arrest immediately. Let me give myself to the police, you guys hurry up and get that warrant through, and get me out. I’ll be okay. Even Edmundson can’t have people everywhere all the time.”

She could see just the slightest hesitation in Derek’s eyes. He wanted to protect her, and she loved him for it, but he knew there were permanent ramifications for what he was about to do.

But then the hesitation was gone, determination back in its place. He was going to protect her no matter what it cost him. And damned if she didn’t love him for that stubbornness, too.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered.

She realized Derek couldn’t be reasoned with, and Jon was just going to fall on the sword with him in some misguided bro-code pact.

Except Molly wasn’t going to let them do that.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way,” she told them. “But I need you guys to help me get a couple of things out of the clean room. If we’re leaving, it’s got to go with us.”

The both nodded. “Okay, then we need to come up with a plan,” Derek said. “Do either of you know anything about this section of the building?”

They followed Molly to the clean room quickly. She opened the airlock door and immediately opened the second door, without waiting for the air shower. That action completely contaminated the clean room, but it didn’t matter, it was about to get much more contaminated. She stood to the side and ushered with her arm for the guys to enter.

“I vaguely remember some of this section, but it’s been years since I’ve been over here, honestly,” Jon was responding.

As soon as they were through the second door Molly went back out the first one, closed it and turned the heavy manual metal lock on the door.

Derek and Jon were now trapped inside.

She couldn’t hear inside the room, but she saw Derek’s face as he stopped talking to Jon and looked over at the closed door. His eyes narrowed as he walked quickly through the airlock to the outer door, and realized it was locked.

His fist came up and slammed against the thick glass of the door. Molly startled even though she could barely hear the sound. Fury was written on every aspect of his features. He spoke to her through the glass—angry words—but she couldn’t tell what he was saying. Based on his face, she was glad.

He couldn’t get out; the clean room seconded as a bomb disposal area and could withstand a relatively large explosion, so hitting or even shooting at the glass wasn’t going to help Derek.

She saw him get himself under control and look her in the eyes. He mouthed the word
open
.

She shook her head no.

He flattened both his hands against the glass.

Molly, please.

She walked closer to him, wanting to let him out, but knowing she couldn’t.

“I can’t lose you,” she repeated his words back to him. But it was the truth.

She didn’t know if he could understand her, but couldn’t stay to find out. She turned back around and walked out the door of the lab and the building, taking off her blond wig as she went. Colorado Springs Sheriff’s officers were everywhere. Lights were blazing in the husky dawn light.