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Stryker couldn’t help himself. He listened for a few more seconds. Lisa’s moans were soft, eager. Not nearly as loud as she’d been with him. Was she faking it? He wouldn’t put it past her. Lisa was working her way up the ladder, just like everyone else. Judging by the sound of things, Lisa’s affair with Konrad was little more than a business interview.

That thought triggered something in the back of Stryker’s mind. If Lisa really was the opportunistic little tramp he thought she was, why was she with Konrad? Lisa being with Konrad meant that Konrad was higher on the totem pole than Stryker, or he was moving up. That was news to Stryker. Stryker had been with the Office for almost a decade longer than Konrad. Either Konrad was moving up in the world, or Stryker was going down. He wondered who else already knew.

They finally finished half an hour later. Stryker was listening from his room. He cringed slightly, thinking about how he’d already been there twice that evening. Then he smiled, because he’d been there first.

“So have you figured out what to do?” Lisa’s static voice came over the radio.

“About what?” Konrad’s voice was deep, sated. He sounded ready to sleep.

“You know what I’m talking about. Stryker.”

“Yeah, I’ve decided. I still don’t think it’s right.” There was a rustling sound, and Stryker heard Konrad pouring himself a drink. Ice cubes rattled against glass, and he heard the thick ripple of alcohol pouring from a bottle.

“What choice do you have?” said Lisa. “If you don’t do it, Paolini will have somebody else do it.”

“I know. And then she’ll come after me, too. I should kill that bitch.”

“That would be stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she’s a senator, for one. You don’t just kill a senator. Besides, if you did kill her, then who would take her place? Sometimes you’re better off with the devil you know.”

“The devil I know,” Konrad repeated, chuckling. Stryker heard the ice cubes rattle in his glass as Konrad finished it off. “That’s why I love you. You’re always thinking.”

Love?
Stryker thought. Was Konrad really that stupid? Or did he throw that word around so carelessly? Probably the latter. He probably said it to every fifty dollar whore he bedded, in every city he worked.

Words didn’t mean a thing to a man like Konrad. They were just another tool, another means to an end. And what might that end be for Lisa? Stryker didn’t really care. His best guess was that they were using each other equally. They were a perfect couple. No commitment, no consequences; just opportunity and cheap thrills.

“Are you going to take me out on your boat after this is over?” Lisa said. “You promised.”

“Of course I am. We’re going to take a nice long vacation after this job.”

They were silent for a few moments. Stryker thought he heard them kissing but he couldn’t be sure because of the static.

“Where were you earlier?” Lisa suddenly said.

“I had to take care of some business.”

“What kind of business?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Stryker listened a bit longer, but they didn’t have much more to say. Fifteen minutes later, Lisa left and returned to Stryker’s room. He was already back in bed, of course, and Lisa crawled in next to him and went promptly to sleep. Stryker was half-dozing as he sorted everything out.

He knew Konrad was going to try to kill him. He just didn’t know how or when. Konrad had seemed unwilling to talk about it with Lisa. Stryker was going to have to be extra careful for the next few days. He tried to put himself in Konrad’s shoes, and a few obvious things came to mind.

Konrad wasn’t terribly inventive. It wasn’t going to be anything sophisticated. But it would be something that would take Stryker by surprise. Konrad would also want to make sure Stryker’s body couldn’t be identified. That was an important part of the process.

    
A bomb
, Stryker decided. Konrad was going to try to blow him up. It was the easiest and most effective way to get rid of things like fingerprints and dental evidence. There were other ways, but they were involved. They took a long time. They required resources and accomplices. That wasn’t Konrad’s style. Anyone he brought in to help was another person he’d have to kill later.

Konrad would do it away from the Warehouse, because he wouldn’t want to endanger the operation. He wouldn’t do it at the hotel, either. That was too close to home. Konrad was going to have to find a way to blow Stryker up somewhere in the middle. It was going to be a car bomb. It would be attached to his rental car, and it would be triggered wirelessly. That way Konrad could watch, and he could make sure it happened in just the right place. It was simple, unimaginative, almost cliché. That was Konrad to a tee.

Chapter 30

Matt was asleep when Brandy got home. She placed her sidearm on the nightstand and undressed, and then slipped between the sheets. She was tired and had meant to go straight to sleep, but the second her head hit the pillow, her mind started working. The events had come so fast during the day that Brandy hadn’t had time to absorb them all. She was missing things. She knew it. There was no way she could have covered all her bases when she’d been jumping from crime scene to crime scene all day long.

Ashcroft’s words from their meeting came back to haunt her. He was depending on her. He wanted her to close the case, and to do it fast. The agency needed it done, and it was important because it was her first real case. It gave her a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was so much riding on this investigation, so much for her personally, and just as much for everyone involved.

Brandy was beginning to feel sorry for Sara Murphy. She didn’t know why, but she was now convinced that Sara wasn’t the killer. Sara had already proven herself incapable of pulling the trigger. She’d proved that much when she left Jim alive. That had been stupid. No professional would have left Jim like that and risked the exposure. But then, after Sara left, someone else finished the job. The same person who wanted to kill Sara had killed Jim. That was a lot to think about. What was Jim’s connection? Was it simply that Sara had gone to a coworker for help, or was there more to it? Why had Sara gone to him, and not someone else?

Brandy felt herself tensing up with anxiety. Her head was spinning and she was practically trembling with nervous energy. Matt stirred next to her and Brandy glanced at him. He looked cute, vulnerable. She reached out and twirled his chest hair in her fingers. Matt felt it, and his arm came up. He touched her hand and squeezed it lovingly. He did this without even waking. Brandy smiled.

She stroked his chest, felt the coarseness of his hair and the sheer mass of his structure, and it aroused something in her. All that nervous energy bubbled up. Brandy worked her hand up and down his body in wide circles, across his torso, finally slipping her fingers under his pajama pants. Matt moaned lightly in his sleep.

His body was warm, and slightly aroused. She stroked him encouragingly. “Come on,” she whispered. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Matt’s eyes fluttered as Brandy pulled herself on top of him, dragging her breasts across his warm skin. She bent down and kissed him. Matt responded, taking her by the hips and moving her body into place.

Brandy felt a tingling in her solar plexus. The tension and nervous energy that had been building all day moved now, up and down Brandy’s body, crawling across her skin like tiny bolts of lightning. She rose and fell rhythmically, enjoying the mingling of flesh and the feeling of penetration. Matt moaned and she worked faster. Waves of pleasure rolled over her. Brandy felt that sensation again, the wild energy moving from the center of her body, up into her nipples and down to the soles of her feet, and it brought a smile to her lips.

She reached out and caught the sheets in her fists. They were cool, soft, silky against her skin. Brandy’s breath became excited, her skin moistened with sweat. Matt’s hands moved up and down her thighs. She worked faster, and their bodies responded in waves of rolling pleasure. The world vanished. The feeling took her, the rising and falling, the excitation of energy that moved through her flesh like a shuddering vibration. Her troubles vanished in a brilliant, singular moment of magic.

They finished together in an explosion of ecstasy that took her breath away. Brandy felt the energy roll out of her in a tsunami, flooding the room and then drifting out into the world, dissipating quietly into darkness. She bent forward, laughing gently. She kissed his lips and then rolled over onto her pillow. Matt was already snoring, and she smiled at him as she drifted into sleep.

Chapter 31

Saturday, 7:00 AM

Sara woke lying on the ground, surrounded by old newspapers and trash. She was still wrapped in the old wool blanket, but the gentleman hobo was gone. A dim stream of light trickled in between the two tall buildings and she heard the early morning sounds of traffic and sirens, and the baying of foghorns on the bay. She pushed herself upright, gritting her teeth against the soreness in her limbs. Her back hurt, her legs hurt. She wondered if she’d gotten whiplash from the crash.

Sara waited for the pain to subside and then climbed up to sit on top of an old milk crate. She was still sitting there when Lurch returned.

“Got some food for ya,” he said. He handed Sara a cup of coffee and a Styrofoam tray with biscuits and gravy and eggs. Sara thanked him and then devoured the whole platter. The old man watched her eat, smiling crazily the whole time. Finally, Sara settled back against the wall. Her belly was full and she was as rested as she was going to get. She reached for her wallet and handed Lurch twelve dollars.

“It’s all I have,” she said. “I wish I could give you more.”

Lurch crossed his arms. “Nope, don’t need it,” he said. “I got all I need.”

“Are you sure? How can I thank you? I owe you for helping me.”

The old man leaned forward, bracing his palms against his knees. “Your welcome,” he said. “We help each other. That’s what we’re here for.”

“Well, thank you… for everything,” Sara said. “I guess I’d better be going.”

“Where you gonna go?”

Sara thought about it. “I have no idea,” she said distantly. “I just know I have to keep going.”

“Woman without a plan,” he said. “You got friends? Someone who could help you?”

“Hah,” Sara let out a hollow laugh. “I had friends, but they weren’t really friends. I had a family… I can’t explain. I let them down. I’m not even sure how. I just know that I failed.”

“Gotta be somebody,” Lurch said. “Nobody’s alone.”

Sara felt the warm sting of tears in her eyes. She blinked and wiped them away. “I’m alone,” she said.

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.” There was a twinkle in the old man’s eyes, but Sara thought it might just be craziness. She didn’t dare try to explain her problems. At the moment, She couldn’t even define them.

Sara felt herself drawn back to the square. She knew she shouldn’t go back there in the daylight but she had to. Maybe it was because that was where things had fallen apart; that was where she was when her life had been taken away. Sara wanted to look at the crime scene, to get an idea of just what at happened.

She had so many questions. How had she gotten on that roof? What had happened to her after leaving the gym? If she could figure that out, maybe she could figure out who’d shot Fortress. There had to be a clue there, somewhere. Maybe something there would jar her memory.

It wasn’t going to be easy, though. By now, her face was all over the news. The only thing working in her favor was that she was a complete mess. Her makeup was probably hideous and her hair was like something out of a rock video. She’d been wearing a very expensive suit the previous morning, now she was a disheveled homeless lady in an outfit stolen from a department store. She probably stank, too, but her night in the alley had rendered her olfactory glands useless.

It was early when Sara got to the square, still foggy and cool. The streets were busy with traffic but the square was nearly empty. The stage had been isolated by a police fence and there was a cop inside, guarding the scene.

She wandered around the area for twenty minutes, searching for the missing pieces of her puzzle. She clearly remembered walking from the office to the gym. It occurred to her that whatever had happened between the office and the moment she woke on the roof must have had something to do with Jim. Jim was one of them. He’d been working with them. Maybe he did something at the office. Maybe he put a drug in her coffee when she wasn’t looking.

Something finally made sense. Unfortunately, now that Sara had made the connection, it didn’t do her any good. She certainly couldn’t go back to Jim’s and interrogate him. He was either in the hospital or the morgue.

That was when she thought of Steve, her boss. Jim and Steve had been friends for a long time. Maybe Steve knew who Jim was working with… or maybe, they were working together. Maybe Steve was part of the conspiracy. Sara thought about it. What would Steve and Jim have to do with the whole thing? What was the purpose of all of this?

The answer seemed surprisingly obvious. The purpose was to kill Fortress and then frame Sara for the murder. But it hadn’t been Jim’s doing. He wasn’t the type. Fortresses’s murder was a political assassination. Jim was just a dirtbag. He was an opportunist. If he’d come into a scenario like this, it had to be for one thing: money. Jim had to have been paid off. Yep, that sounded just like Jim.

That realization opened the door to limitless possibilities. Who assassinated guys like Fortress? Governments did that sort of thing, especially rogue dictatorships. So did extremist groups. Of those possibilities, the latter seemed the most likely. Foreign countries wouldn’t have had any interest in the demise of someone like Fortress. Political adversaries might, especially those fringe types. Had Fortress been thinking of running for a political seat? Now that was a thought.