“Five hundred grand!” Bennett cried out. “Done. Accepted by screen name FC157.”
The page pixelated in front of our eyes and became a gun rotating against a silver background.
“Who the fuck is bat-shit crazy enough to order a hit over the web?” my boss asked.
“This might be the lead we were looking for to find out who’s actually running the site,” I said with confidence then turned to Bennett. “Keep trying to hack that screen name. I have to warn her.”
“Whoa!” My boss grabbed me. “You can’t warn her. This is classified shit you have going on here. We need to know who’s putting up these hit sites. Forgive me if I think that’s more important than Rebecca Domenico. The game never changes. Just the players. With her gone, someone else will just take over.”
“And if she finds out we knew and didn’t warn her?”
“This isn’t something she could sue over,” Fowler argued.
Wanna bet Sebastien Daria wouldn’t drag us into federal court? Before he brought Fowler to his warehouse and tortured him?
My heart pounded as I backed up toward the door. Fuck protocols, this was personal. This struck me in a place I wasn’t expecting. Now I got Bruce Willis’ motivation in Die Hard, running around a burning building with shattered glass everywhere in bare feet waving a machine gun.
Someone threatened the woman he loved.
I stopped. Was that what I was doing?
No, couldn’t be. I didn’t love Rebecca. Just had a thing for her.
“Looks like we’re gonna be here late.” I faked a yawn. “I’m gonna head to the lounge and take a nap.”
Bennett, who’d started his shift around the time I left, narrowed his eyes at me. “Yeah... Okay.”
I left the conference room and bee-lined right to Tamryn’s desk and found her speaking on the phone. I leaned over her shoulder. “Can you bring up the Maloney file and find the links for the cameras he planted around the corner from Rebecca Domenico’s townhouse?”
“Sure.” All case files for agents with my clearance were accessible across sections for transparency.
Tamryn clicked and six black and white screens opened up.
“Zoom in the front of her house,” I said, but then cursed under my breath. “The only other vantage point is her yard?”
“Looks that way.” Tamryn tapped her cheek. And then gave me a sly look. “I bet she has cameras in her house.”
I shook my head and paced in front of Tam’s desk. “I can’t break into her home security system.”
“This seems like an emergency. Hey look!” Tamryn pointed to camera number four. “Someone is running through her backyard.”
I stilled. “Zoom in on that.”
Tamryn adjusted the camera and I breathed in relief.
Long dark hair. “That’s her,” I said.
“She’s alone?”
Those pricks let her leave the house alone? “Go back in that feed.”
“Oh...” Tamryn pointed. “Someone ran ahead, but really fast. Tall. Broad. Wait... Salt and pepper hair.”
“Vale,” I mumbled. “Her guard is taking her somewhere. Why would she run that way? What’s on the next block?”
Tamryn brought up another screen and zoomed in on a city map. “Subway.”
“On that side of the block, northbound or southbound?”
“North.”
“What are the stops on that line?” I ran into my office and from the safe took out my gun.
“That line makes limited local stops after that station around the corner from her.”
Shoving my Glock into my shoulder holster, I said, “I’ll find her.”
I rushed to my computer and after logging in, I clicked on my encrypted tracking icon.
I secretly monitored every mobile signal for Rebecca. Something I didn’t have permission for. Pinging each one, I sat back and waited. The deafening silence affected me in two ways. Good, so the hitman wouldn’t find her. Bad for me, because now I couldn’t either.
Subway. North. I had to do this the old-fashion way. Drive around and look for her.
Ping.
My eyes raced back to the screen. After a few clicks, the red arrow moved up Madison Avenue.
“Tamryn!” I called out, saving the link and then emailed it to my phone. Breaking even more rules.
“Yeah?” She came into my office
“Sit.” I held out my chair.
She eyed me cautiously, but sat at my desk.
“See this?” I pointed to my screen.
“Yeah? Who is that?” Her fingers ran along the monitor following the icon on the toolbar. “Where did you get this?”
“It’s better you don’t know.” I sent a text to the fleet manager, telling him I needed an unmarked car. “Follow that signal and send me texts where it goes. The encrypted channel only. I’ll call you from my car.”
“Okay. I’ve been waiting for this job to get exciting.” She rubbed her hands together then held her stomach. “Hang on, baby, you can’t come out now.”
I squeezed her shoulder, thankful I had someone so great in my corner.
I fast-walked to the elevator infuriated with whoever came up with that stupid escape plan for Becca. And they let her keep whatever the hell pinged my tracking satellite.
The hitman would be able to hunt her down. Ambush her because no doubt, she thought she was safe. That meant I had to find her.
Fucking Messina, Daria, and Byrne.
Those assholes weren’t protecting her.
I would.