Midnight Fire (10 page)

Still mesmerized, Jack reached out a big hand, squeezed her shoulder.

Oh, God, that was going to set her off again!

She froze, expecting another flash of horrible memories, uncontrollable, unstoppable, but no. Her skin felt chilled, as if she’d been in an accident. Cold everywhere except where Jack touched her. Warmth concentrated in that one spot, spread throughout her body like a honeyed balm.

Neither of them spoke. Summer because she couldn’t, Jack because he was seemingly immersed in his tablet, swiping one-handed.

But she knew he’d seen—he’d seen her sudden, inexplicable distress, her sudden frightening tears.

His hand had healing powers. All those sharp, jangled feelings smoothed out and she had herself under control. Jack somehow understood and removed his hand, behaving as if nothing had happened.

Without a word, Summer put the car in motion and started driving. Driving calmed her, made her feel in control. Jack was frowning at the tablet and she could sink into her thoughts as she made her way into the city center.

He was following their route via a GPS map. “So, where we going? Where’s Hector’s pad? Are we far?”

The streets became more urban, not leafy suburbia but sharp urban chic. Trendy building after trendy building went by. “Two blocks, now,” she said quietly. “I haven’t been to this part of town since I went with my aunt all those years ago. I’m not even absolutely certain he still has it. He was fifty-six, what was he going to do with a bachelor’s pad?”

“You’d be surprised,” was all Jack said. He finally lifted his head to look at her. Thank God he didn’t make the mistake of asking if she was all right. She was, but just barely. “If you remember the exact address, I can look up the ownership records.”

“Now?” she asked, startled. She gave him the address. “You can do that now?”

“It would be nice if I said yes, because then you’d admire me,” he confessed with a wry smile. “But the truth is that I’ll have someone else do it.”

“Nick?”

“No. He’s in the office now and the Bureau tracks all intel requests and we want to keep this close. Right now it’s me, Nick and the Director.”

Wow. “The Director is taking a personal interest?”

Jack frowned. “We might have US government agents responsible for one of the greatest terrorist attacks on US soil. Yeah, he’s taking it seriously. And personally. And to tell you the truth, after Hugh’s death, I don’t trust anyone in the CIA. So handing the official investigation over to Nick and Director Corning makes a lot of sense to me.”

“The CIA’s strong suit was never trustworthiness,” Summer said wryly.

Jack looked up at that. “Not true. There are some true patriots in the Agency, men and women who have dedicated their lives to defending their country. There are stars on the wall of the Old Building to commemorate those who lost their lives doing it.”

Summer ducked her head. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. And it’s true that whoever is behind this also has people inside the Company. All it takes is a couple. And since we don’t know who they are, and since they are more than willing to kill, we’re keeping the circle small.”

“So who’s doing the checking of ownership records?”

Jack looked at her and smiled. So strange to see that old, charming smile on that now-rough face. “A friend of Isabel’s, Felicity. Back in Portland. She’s sort of a genius.”

“Yeah? That’s handy.”

“She’s amazing. I hope you get to meet her. There’s not much she can’t do with a computer. Her father won the Nobel Prize for Physics.”

“Oh.” A tiny little thread of jealousy—really small, hardly there at all—snaked through her. Jack sounded almost proud of this Felicity and there was affection in his voice. Well, no way could Summer compete with a computer genius and a Nobel Prize winning father. She was good but not great with computers and her dad had been...well.

So really this tiny spurt of jealousy—hardly worth noting—was stupid, because—

“Her boyfriend’s pretty cool, too,” Jack said casually. “Former SEAL and medic. Real good guy. The whole team over in Portland is pretty cool, actually. Oh good, Felicity, you’re the best.”

Something appeared on the tablet propped on his knees. “So, here’s the dope. The building is owned by a company” —he swiped his way through several screens—”a holding company. A DAC, actually.”

“A dack? Is that like a Dr. Who thing?”

He smiled, not looking up and, oh God. A dimple appeared. An honest to God dimple that looked totally out of place on that harsh face. Enough looking at him. It distracted her.

“No, darling,” he said lazily. “That would be a Dalek. This is a Distributed Autonomous Company. Essentially, a company without people.”

“That’s a thing? A company without people?”

He nodded, the dimple disappearing. “They are supposed to operate under strict regulation, but essentially they operate via software that makes them autonomous and fast. But that is only the first layer. Bless her, Felicity never stops at the obvious.” He tapped another screen. “I’ll spare you the links, but Felicity hunted down the ultimate owner, and it’s—”

“Some corporation so he doesn’t have to pay taxes.” Summer started remembering some of the buildings along the street. There were two new ones she didn’t recognize, built after she’d been to the apartment with her aunt. “Which means he was dirty long before now.”

“Bingo. So...my GPS says we should be parking right...about...now.”

Summer swerved and parked.

Jack was still studying the screen, pinching to expand the scope of what he was seeing, then opening the screen up with three fingers. She cocked her head, trying to understand what he was looking at. She saw cones and lines that looked like streets.

Jack reached behind him to pull a small backpack out of his sports bag. He extracted what looked like a pencil-thin flashlight, the coating a dull matte black. “Let’s go.” He looked at her. “What?”

Summer waved vaguely at his face. “You’re not going to—you know. Homeless up?”

“Told you the damned things itch.” He rummaged in his backpack and came up with a beanie hat and a baseball cap. “Particularly when I wear this. Put yours on.” He handed her the beanie and slid the baseball cap on. “They have LED lights and will blind any cameras. I checked all the vidcams in the area, I know where they are, and this will take care of them.”

“Is that what you used at my place?”

Jack just smiled then climbed out of her car. It should have been awkward for him. It was a small car and he was a big man. But he seemed to have no problems at all. He simply unfurled himself, stood straight, shouldered his backpack, came around to the driver’s side. He held out a big hand to her and she got out. It had been a long time since a man had helped her out of a car.

He kept her hand in his.

The area was more trendy than the neighborhood of The Glades, not an area of stately homes but more luxury service apartments. She imagined diplomats and visiting businessmen stayed. She remembered the building—expensively appointed and absolutely bland and unmemorable, like a hotel. Better than a hotel if you had things to hide. No nosy neighbors and all the privacy you wanted.

“You think someone might be watching us?” Summer looked around but didn’t see a living soul.

“I doubt it, but we’re keeping our guard up.” He met her eyes. “I looked at sat photos. All of the buildings here seemed to be zoned for privacy. I mapped out a pathway to Hector’s building where there are the fewest security cams. If make a wrong turn, let me know.”

Summer stared. “Felicity can hack into satellites?”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “She can, easily. But as it happens, so can I.”

“When this is over, can I hire you?” Summer blurted. “You probably won’t be going back to the CIA anyway, right?”

He froze and waited so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. “No. Whatever happens, I won’t be going back to the CIA. If Nick and the Director and I can stop this—whatever it is—then cleaning house at the CIA will take a generation. I don’t want to be part of that.”

Too painful.
He didn’t have to say the words for her to understand. She understood that the agency he had dedicated his life to was broken beyond repair. In the space of six months he has lost most of his family and he’d lost his life’s mission.

Jack lifted his hand, ran the back of his forefinger down her cheek. “If writing were part of my skillset, I’d come work for you in a heartbeat.” He dropped his hand. “But breaking and entering is part of my skillset, so let’s go. Do you mind if I take point?”

“Take point?”

“Lead the way.”

“Oh, of course. So, yeah, take point. If I remember correctly, the building is in the center of the block. You can’t even see the street from it.”

“So you can’t see it from the street, either. Neat.”

It was neat. Her younger self hadn’t appreciated how hidden away this building was. She had been dragged there many times by her furious Aunt Vanessa, as a witness, she now realized, in the divorce proceedings. As it happened, Hector had settled a very generous sum on Vanessa and the divorce went smoothly.

She also remembered wondering why Vanessa was angry and not sad when they uncovered clear evidence that Hector was cheating on her. And again, with hindsight, she realized it was all about the money and Vanessa’s upcoming loss of status as wife to Hector Blake that burned her.

Not the end of her marriage.

Summer hadn’t seen too many decent marriages in her life up to that point. The Delvaux’s marriage had been the first happy marriage she’d ever seen up close. Alex and Mary Delvaux had been devoted to each other, and it was clear in every word they spoke. They also liked each other. That, too had been clear.

She hadn’t even thought to be jealous of Isabel and Jack. What she saw in the Delvaux family was so rare it was like being jealous of unicorns or fairies.

The greenery had grown out, matured. A groundskeeper kept everything in shape and clean but now you walked through a maze of head-high shrubbery. Anyone living on this block, particularly in the internal buildings, really liked their privacy.

The night wasn’t warm but there was a slight breath of coming spring in the air. Faint, unmistakable. And like all springs it brought with it ancient emotions—the tribe has survived another winter! Let’s celebrate.

The shrubbery was dense with leaves, a few fruit trees had tightly furled blossoms that would soon burst. It was chilly but somehow the scent of the coming spring was in the air. Spring was her favorite season.

She brushed by a thick magnolia bush and a sweet scent exploded and filled her head.

Up ahead Jack came to a halt and she stopped immediately behind him. He held up a big hand, palm up like a traffic cop.

“Shouldn’t you hold up your fist?” she whispered.

Jack turned his head and looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“That’s what military guys on patrol in the jungle do, at least in the movies. Raise their fists, and everyone stops.”

“Not quite the jungle here,” Jack murmured, voice low. She’d read somewhere that whispers carried farther than low voices. “And you’re not a soldier. So if I read the map correctly, Blake’s place is around this corner to the right. That feel right?”

She consulted her inner map and nodded. “There’s a main entrance but there is also a side entrance that isn’t used much. If they haven’t changed it, I remember that code, too.”

Jack nodded, flipped up his jacket collar so it disguised his jawline. He took off his scarf, wrapped it around her neck, covering her mouth. Basically only her eyes were visible.

Jack took her hand. He tugged and she stumbled forward. Oh, man. Her hand actually tingled where he touched it, which was insane. Jack was not connected to a source of electricity, the tingling was entirely in her own head and if he had any idea what effect
holding hands
with him had on her, she would die of embarrassment.

His hand was huge, warm, hard as wood. And it made her feel safe.

She wasn’t even aware of fear until Jack’s hand touched hers. It was just a touch creepy out here in the dark, in this maze of shrubbery, intent on breaking into the house of a dead man. A dead man who might have been behind the greatest terrorist attack of the last fifteen years and who might have been connected to who knew what else.

Those feelings of dread that she wasn’t even aware of vanished completely the instant Jack took her hand. Poof! Gone. In its place warmth and an immense feeling of safety. Which was crazy, of course. Safe didn’t exist in the world. Her entire childhood had been all about never lulling herself into feeling safe, because she wasn’t. And her work as a political journalist taught her that we all live on a knife’s edge. So any sense of safety was illusory.

But nice.

Walking beside Jack made her feel completely safe. Like taking a stroll through a park on a sunny day. Because no matter what else he was, he was visibly strong and he was incredibly vigilant, eyes darting everywhere, from the sky to the ground and everywhere in between. He walked like he was expecting an attack at any moment, muscles tense and ready. Jack glanced quickly behind him and she saw a vague outline of something under his jacket. A gun, maybe. Was he armed? When did that happen? But she’d seen quite enough military attachés in civilian clothes to recognize a shoulder holster.

It was probably no coincidence that he was holding her right hand with his left, leaving his gun hand free.

Though she’d taken self-defense courses and didn’t consider herself a shrinking flower in any way, if they were attacked Jack would have to fight them off. She wasn’t going to fight anyone off. She could take notes.

The walkway was made of aged brick, which every once in a while became loose gravel. She sounded like an elephant walking across the gravel. Jack wasn’t making a sound. Summer glanced at their feet and noticed that Jack was walking toe to heel. She did the same and made much less noise. Still more than he was, though.

“There!” Summer kept her voice low, pointed straight ahead. “That’s the main entrance. The side entrance is to the right.”