“I know you didn’t kill Helena or try to kill me. Durand tried to convince me the Valencia family set the bomb and that his family suffered from the explosion. When that didn’t work, he leaked that you had made the failed attempt on my life. He blamed his nephew’s injury that made him a paraplegic on you. We searched Helena’s diary for a clue on who had wanted her dead. I was not the only target, but I was warned not to go outside the store.”
The pain from the handcuffs cutting into Carlos’s wrists was nothing compared to the anguish shafting Salvatore’s eyes.
Salvatore lowered his gun. “She wrote about how the two of you believed you could end the war between our families. That might not have convinced me if one of my security men hadn’t told me what he heard on his radio. He scanned all channels that day and caught you yelling to your cousin, ‘No, Eduardo, don’t hurt Helena. Don’t do this.’ Then he heard your screams at Helena through the radio, telling her to turn and run.”
Carlos wanted to say something, but all he could do was try to breathe through his constricted throat.
Retter was searching the room and found the control to the chain hoist, which he engaged to lower Carlos to the floor. He found a pair of bolt cutters and snapped the handcuff links.
“Thanks.” Carlos stood, rubbing his wrists around the metal. “Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“Salvatore’s man captured me,” Retter stated as if that were an explanation.
Salvatore scoffed. “Because you let him.”
“True.” Retter’s face split with a smile that turned the heads of women anywhere he went, regardless if he was decked out for a night on the town or wearing dirty fatigues as he was now. “I couldn’t pass up a chance to meet with Salvatore. Once I did, I knew he wasn’t behind the attacks on the oil minister. I had just explained that I thought someone else was trying to finger him for the attempts on the oil minister’s life when he got a call from some guy named-”
“Vestavia,” Carlos supplied.
“Yeah, you know him?” Retter asked.
“Sort of. Go on.”
“He told Salvatore that Durand was behind the attempts, and if he didn’t stop Durand now, Salvatore risked losing his political ties when he got fingered for the assassination. Vestavia also told Salvatore if he wanted to end the assaults on the oil minister, Durand was light on soldiers right now. But Salvatore knew that since he had men watching Anguis, it was no problem to mobilize quickly. So here we are.”
So Vestavia sent Salvatore to take down Durand, but probably hadn’t planned on Durand having Mirage.
Or the person Durand believed was Mirage.
“So where does that leave us, Salvatore?” Carlos had to know whether Salvatore would still chase revenge after today. “Does the fighting end here?”
“I want the man who killed my Helena” was his reply.
Carlos shook his head. “I swear to you the one responsible forfeited his life that day as well.”
Salvatore stared a moment, then nodded. “I have killed the head of the beast. His blood can no longer harm my family.”
Carlos brushed both hands over his face and hair, then looked at Retter. “What about the teenagers?”
“What do you mean?” Retter asked. “I haven’t talked to anyone. Salvatore said if I got his men inside here and he walked away alive, he’d let me go. You, too, if you lived.”
Salvatore told them, “You’re both free to go. I owe you for your help.”
“You willing to repay that now?” Retter asked.
“How?”
“Cell phones, clothes, money…airplane?”
TEE TURNED THE knob halfway, then shoved the door open, her weapon on Josie. The DEA agent was so focused trying to do something with her cell phone that her weapon was still holstered.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Drop the phone.” Tee moved the laser beam on her weapon to the center of Josie’s forehead.
Josie calmly lowered her hands and looked down her nose at Tee. “I’m a DEA agent, you fool.” Her fingers still tried to press buttons on the phone.
Tee switched the beam to Josie’s hand and blew off her thumb. Josie dropped the phone, screaming in pain.
Hunter and Gotthard rushed inside, weapons drawn.
“Cuff her and pat her down.” Tee waited as Gotthard bound Josie’s bloody hand and bound her wrists with flex cuffs. While he patted her down, Tee lifted Josie’s phone, which showed the call would not connect.
That would be because Joe had Secret Service agent Dolinski jam all cellular service in a one-mile radius of the Capitol Building the minute he got Tee’s text message. By now, the chambers would be almost cleared of occupants, the first shunted out being the president and his cabinet. Joe would have the three teens and the Collupy woman locked down in an underground holding facility as well.
Hunter contacted Rae and Korbin by sat-phone with authorization to take the other three teens into protective custody in Switzerland. Within the hour, they’d know who was real and who was not.
“You aren’t cops or FBI. You haven’t even read me my rights,” Josie snarled.
Tee stepped close to Josie. “Here’s your right. Open your mouth again and I’m going to pull your tongue over the back of your head.” Tee motioned for her agents to move out. “Let’s turn her over to the authorities she wants to see.”
Outside, Gotthard and Hunter each had a hand wrapped around one of Josie’s arms. The DEA agent glared in spite of the shock blanching her face, but never said another word.
Tee followed several steps behind, scanning for anyone who might try to help Josie.
“YOU HAVE THE target in sight?” Vestavia asked, staring out the tenth-floor window of a vacant D.C. office.
“Yes, sir. I’m ready,” his sniper confirmed, waiting on the order to shoot. Another second passed. “Fra? Sir?”
Vestavia ventured one more look over the sniper’s shoulder. “Take the shot.”
The explosion might as well have ripped Vestavia in half. His whole body clinched as he watched Josie’s beautiful head shatter like a ripe melon slammed with a sledgehammer.
He wanted to order the death of the Asian woman and the two men with her, but this shooter was a Fratelli sniper. Vestavia couldn’t risk the Fras learning of an unnecessary death.
The reigning group of eleven North American Fras had ordered this sanction if Josie ever got caught.
And the removal of Pierre in France. Like his death mattered?
Vestavia had never thought anyone could trip up Josie.
He fought to maintain control, shield how difficult it was to get his breath. His Josie was dead. He would make everyone pay. His heart punched his chest with each painful beat.
Sweet Josie. Gone.
He had to face the Fras and explain what went wrong, but not tonight. Not now while he was so raw.
The sniper had broken down his weapon and stood. “Ready?”
Vestavia refused to betray any emotion. He choked down the sick ball of agony in his gut and patted the shooter on his shoulder. “Nice job.”
“Thank you, Fra.”
Vestavia could find only one reason for failure today. There had to be a mole inside the Fratelli organization.
It clearly wasn’t Josie, but he would find out who it was, and that person would pay dearly.
EPILOGUE
CARLOS WALKED INTO Joe’s office atop the Bat Tower in Nashville, ready to hurt people. “Where is she?”
“You mean Gabrielle?” Joe rose from behind his desk. He wore gray slacks and a sky-blue, button-down shirt.
Tee walked in from the door that connected their offices. She had her furry little Pomeranian, Petey, in her arms, snuggled against the cinnamon-red sweater she wore over a dash of black leather skirt. “She’s gone, Carlos. She called when they landed to give us the airport where they arrived and was gone by the time we reached your aunt and cousin. We don’t know where she is either.”
He stared at both of them, wanting to call everyone liars who tried to tell him Gabrielle had vanished into thin air.
“You knew she could do it,” Joe pointed out.
Carlos raked a hand over his head and clutched the back of his neck. “Maybe Gotthard can find her.”
“I don’t think so.” Tee shook her head. “Not from what Gotthard said. He’s impressed by her ability to manipulate anything electronic, and that’s saying something.”
This couldn’t happen. Carlos just wanted a chance to explain to her, to tell her she was free forever from Durand, her ex, everyone. That he hadn’t given her up and hadn’t been using her.
What else could she think after finding out she’d been sleeping with the person she believed killed her mother?
“How’s the burn on your leg?” Joe asked.
“Fine.” Carlos waved it off, trying to figure out how to function now when the only thing that mattered in his world was gone forever.
“We just got in. What’s the scoop?” Korbin asked, walking into the room with Rae on his heels.
Carlos backed out of the way and leaned against the wall so Korbin and Rae could take seats facing Joe’s desk.
The idea of disappearing was starting to sound appealing.
“The teens you two rescued in Switzerland are the real McCoys,” Joe started.
“The clinic had been told all three teens were severely depressed and delusional,” Korbin added for everyone. “They had plenty of documentation that, of course, led nowhere.”
Joe continued. “The teens in D.C. were copies who all thought they had been chosen to play decoys for the real teens, and Collupy believed she’d been employed by the CIA as an escort to watch over Evelyn. All three teens had been homeless or orphans who were involved in bad traffic wrecks in different countries in the last year. When they woke up in the hospital, each one had some physical damage that corresponded to the one on the real teen. They’d all had plastic surgery they were told was necessary as a result of their injuries, then speech and physical therapy.”
Rae leaned forward, appalled. “You mean the Fratelli intentionally injured these kids, even put one in a wheelchair for life, and removed limbs on the others to make duplicates?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we’ve figured out has happened,” Tee replied. “The teens all confirmed a photo of Josephine Silversteen as the contact person. She told each teen after the surgery that the organization she represented protected children and paid all their medical bills, but her people wanted them to help other children they resembled who were targeted for kidnapping by taking their place for a week. She assured them they’d be protected the entire way, and in return all their hospital and educational expenses would be paid.”
Joe added, “The ability to find abandoned children that matched so close to the teens physically and in speech, and to infiltrate the DEA, proves the Fratelli are an even higher threat than we imagined. Kathryn Collupy was just as innocent. The planning on this was phenomenal since all of them went through surgery, rehab, and voice instruction during the last six months.”
“What’s going to happen to them now?” Rae asked.
“The teens have all been debriefed and are now in the WITSEC,” Joe explained. “They’ve been placed with good families in the program and will receive what they were promised as a minimum. Now we know why Silversteen never caught Brady and why she was killed. They risk leaving no one who can talk.”
“I just finished filling out a report. Brady is known as Vestavia, part of the Fratelli,” Carlos interjected.
Everyone quieted and turned to him.
Carlos shared the phone call Durand received and how he saw Vestavia’s face. He intended to add his connection to Durand in the report, but Retter had stopped him, saying he and Joe were the only two who needed to know that. Retter had refused Carlos’s resignation this morning, telling him Joe wouldn’t accept it until Carlos took some R and R.
They thought he’d stay. Would he? Carlos couldn’t answer that right now.
“So Vestavia knows what I look like,” Carlos finished.
“I don’t think that’s an issue if we don’t put you out somewhere public or high profile,” Tee interjected. “Salvatore burned the Anguis complex to the ground after you left and put out word he killed all the Anguis soldiers, including you.” Tee gave Carlos an assessing look. “We’ll build you a new profile.”
“Right.” Carlos had to get out of here. “Where are my aunt and cousin?”
“The Shepherd Spinal Center in Atlanta.” Tee lifted a small box from Joe’s desk and walked over to Carlos. “This is all the mail that came into Gabrielle’s post office box in Peachtree City.”
Carlos took it, thanked her, and headed for the door.
“Going to take some leave time?” Joe asked.
Carlos couldn’t look him in the eye and lie so he just said, “Yes.”
“When you coming back?” Rae tacked on to Joe’s inquiry.
“Don’t know.” Carlos walked out.
GOTTHARD RUBBED HIS tired eyes and glanced at the third missed call on his cell phone. All three from his wife, who only wanted to bitch him out for still being at work after midnight.
Like she was ever home when he went there? Shopping, girlfriends, and the spa came before a decent meal together.
The only light in this section of the IT offices at BAD came from the glow of multiple computer screens he’d watched for days.
Seven hits popped up next, replies to messages he’d sent out, searching for Linette. Multiple hits had come in constantly, but none with her signature. He clicked through the first five, then stopped on number six, shock paralyzing him.
He read the brief reply again, decoded the signature three more times until he slapped the desk. “Hot damn!”