Navy SEAL to Die For (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen

When Becca went down with Oscar landing on top of her, something sharp jabbed through her dress into her buttocks and her hand landed on broken pieces of glass. Becca cried out, shoving Oscar off her. She leaned to the side to alleviate the pain.

Cursing beneath her breath, she pulled a jagged shard from her hand and reached behind her to yank the one out of her bottom.

She balled her fist to stem the flow of blood from her hand. Nothing could be done about the cut on her backside until she took care of Oscar. “Someone get me a clean napkin or tablecloth,” she called out.

A woman ran for one of the tables placed around the dance floor, grabbed a handful of cloth napkins and hurried back. “Will these do?”

“Yes. Fold two of them into four-inch square pads.”

Her hands shaking, the woman did as Becca said. “Now what?”

Becca held out her good hand. The woman handed over the pads and Becca pressed them into the wound in Oscar’s abdomen. Then she held out her other hand. “Now tie one around this hand and knot it over the cut.”

The woman followed Becca’s orders.

The CIA agent was pale but breathing for the moment. He’d lost a lot of blood before Becca could apply pressure to his wound. “Oscar, stay with me.”

He moved, dragging his hand from beneath him. Blood oozing from the cuts, he dug into his pocket.

Thinking he might have something he needed like nitro pills or an inhaler, she asked, “What do you need? Let me help.” Before she could reach into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and handed it to her. “Becca, there are things you need to know.” He closed his eyes and dragged in a rattling breath.

“You can tell me when we get you stabilized,” she said, her heart lodging in her throat. The man’s face was getting paler by the minute.

“No. Now.” He handed her the wallet and whispered, “Find my CIA ID card.”

She dug in his wallet and located his CIA access card. “Now what?”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

Becca leaned over him, her ear close to his mouth.

“My access code is 982357.”

She turned to look in his eyes. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Repeat it,” he urged. “982357.”

Speaking softly so only he could hear, she repeated, “982357.”

His grip on her arm tightened. “Take the card, get into my office. There is a secret panel in my desk. Reach inside the first drawer and feel for a button against the underside of the desktop.”

“Right side of your desk or left?”

He grimaced, his hand going to the wound in his belly. “Right. Button releases hidden drawer. Find the disk inside. No bigger than a quarter. Take it to Fontaine. He’ll know what to do with it.” He released his hold on her and slumped against the floor. “Hurry.”

“But I can’t just walk into the CIA building.”

“It’s night. New guard on the front desk. Tell him you’re my secretary. You look a little like her.”

Becca had to lean close to hear the last words, her heart beating so fast and hard it pounded against her ears. “Oscar?”

“Mmm,” he said on a breath of air.

“Don’t die, will ya? Losing my father was hard enough. I don’t want to lose a friend, too.”

Oscar’s eyes blinked open. “I’ll try.” Then he passed out.

“Step back,” a voice called out. Paramedics moved in and took over. Becca tucked the access card into the hidden pocket in the waistline of her dress and staggered to her feet.

A medic looked at her hand, cleaned and bandaged her wound. Then she turned around and let him lift her dress high enough to clean and bandage the wound on her buttocks while all of the guests looked on. She almost laughed, but she was too worried about Oscar to care if anyone saw her bare bottom.

When they cleared her, she stepped out of the way and watched as they moved Oscar to a stretcher, started him on an IV and carried him outside to a waiting ambulance.

“Becca!” Quentin’s voice sounded over the wail of the ambulance’s siren as it left carrying Becca’s father’s friend to the hospital. She looked around, spotting Quentin surrounded by police officers, with Sam next to him and Kat arguing with the leader of the men in blue.

She hurried over. “What’s going on?”

“They think we killed Ivan,” Quentin responded.

“He’s dead?” She glanced from Quentin to Sam and back. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, but someone was shooting at us from inside the hotel.”

Becca looked around at the guests. How would they find a shooter in this crowd? She turned to the police officer. “Who’s in charge?”

“Command center is set up in the lobby.” The officer jerked his head toward the lobby. “If you have questions, take them there.”

“I’ll be right back,” Becca said to Quentin and Sam. She marched into the lobby and found the concierge. “I need to use a telephone.”

The man told her to get in line. Guests who’d left their cell phones in their vehicles were anxious to call home and let folks know they were okay. Becca tapped her toe, anxious to get to the head of the line.

When the woman in front of her got on the phone and started sobbing hysterically, Becca had had enough. She pulled the phone from the woman’s hand and spoke into the receiver. “She’s fine and she’ll call you back in a minute.” Becca hung up on the man and dialed Geek’s private cell phone line. The woman she’d taken the phone from sobbed louder.

“Lady, could you take it somewhere else? You’re not doing anyone any good with all that noise.”

Her eyes wide, the woman sniffed and turned to the concierge, who handed her a tissue.

Geek answered on the first ring. “What happened there? The scanners have been on fire.”

Becca explained what had happened and ended with, “Get us cleared to leave the hotel.”

“I’ll call Royce,” Geek said.

“I don’t care if you call the president himself. I need out of here. Now.” The card Oscar had given her was burning a hole in her pocket. The sooner she got inside the CIA building and extracted the data from Oscar’s computer, the better.

Thirty minutes later, all four of them were allowed to leave. Whom Royce had called to manage that was a mystery to Becca, but she could always count on him to pull some pretty major strings. The man had connections. The Stealth Operations Specialists wouldn’t be nearly as effective without them.

Good as gold, Geek had the company car waiting for them when they exited the hotel.

As they slid into the backseat, a dark sedan edged through the barricades and came to a stop in front of the hotel. A man in a black jacket and black pants got out and opened the back door of the vehicle. A German shepherd hopped out and followed his handler into the hotel. Before they passed through the doors, the handler held a cloth to the dog’s nose. The animal sniffed and his tail wagged. He was ready to go to work.

Becca was glad to see the FBI had brought in a dog to search people for gunpowder residue. If the gunman was one of the waitstaff or guests, they’d find him. At least she hoped they would. Getting into the hotel hadn’t been that difficult. Getting out might be equally easy for the assassin who’d killed Ivan.

“Back to SOS headquarters?” the driver asked.

“No,” Becca said.

All eyes turned to her. She fished the card Oscar had given her out of her pocket. “We’re not done for the night.”

She closed the screen between the driver and the back of the limousine, and then explained what Oscar had said and what he’d wanted her to do.

“CIA headquarters?” Sam shook his head. “That can’t be easy.”

Becca held out her hand. “I need a cell phone.”

Kat pulled one out of the V of her uniform collar and handed it to Becca. “Who are you calling?”

“Geek.”

Sam chuckled. “If anyone can get you in, he can.”

“I’m counting on it. I have Oscar’s access card and code. If I can get past the front desk, I think I’ll be all right.”

“What about the security cameras?” Quentin asked.

Sam and Kat answered at once, “Geek.”

“He can scramble them like he did at the hotel to get us in,” Becca said. “Only this time, I’m going in alone.”

Quentin shook his head. “No.”

She raised her brows. “No?” Though her hand and butt hurt from the gashes, the biting pain didn’t faze her as much as Quentin’s adamant response. She was a bit shocked, but feeling pretty darned warm inside. After all that had happened, she’d never felt more alive. A lot had to do with Quentin. Knowing he was there during the whole gala event had made her feel somehow safer. Someone had her back.

The look on Quentin’s face was one of worry, determination and protectiveness. She hadn’t seen such a look before except on her father’s face. That look made her feel cared for and protected, something she hadn’t felt since her father’s death.

“No,” Quentin repeated. “If Oscar wants you to get to his computer, he must suspect someone inside the CIA is involved in the hits.”

Becca nodded. “All the more reason to get the data that has someone worried enough to kill. This has to stop. And I’m the only one who has the card and access code to get in.”

“You could give it to me and let me take it from here,” Sam offered.

Becca shook her head. “I’m every bit as capable of handling this as you are, Sam. You know it. Just because I’m female doesn’t mean I’m weaker.”

Sam held up his hands in surrender. “You’re absolutely right. Kat reminds me every day. I didn’t mean to infer that. I have a lot of respect for your work.”

She nodded. “Bottom line is that I have more of a reason than anyone to see this through. It was my father who was killed by the hired assassin. And my father’s friend who was targeted by Ivan. And if I’m caught, I don’t want any of you to take the fall.” She turned to Quentin. “Especially you.”

His brows dipped. “I’m not afraid of going in.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to have a black mark on your military record for breaking and entering into the CIA building. You could get kicked out of the navy, or worse. You could go to jail.”

His hand closed over hers. “I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone.”

She laced her fingers with his and spoke softly, “It’s night. What are the chances anyone involved in this will be there?”

“Any chance is too dangerous,” Quentin argued. “This guy is determined to keep his secrets and he’s not afraid to kill everyone who stands in his way. He’s already tried to get you several times.”

* * *

W
HILE
B
ECCA
PLACED
the call to Geek, Quentin worked through all the scenarios he could think of that would get him into the CIA building with Becca. Short of walking in, punching out the guard at the front desk and bulldozing his way up to Oscar’s office, he was stumped. The best he could come up with was to create a distraction to divert the guard’s attention while Becca slipped past and entered the elevator.

Becca spoke quietly and rapidly to Geek. Between the two of them, they laid out the plan for her entry into the building. Geek was already on the way, driving the communications van with the necessary equipment he’d need to hack into the security system.

By the time they made it across town, Geek had caught up with them. They parked a couple blocks away from the CIA headquarters building.

All four of them crowded into Geek’s van.

Quentin jumped in first. “Tell me you have something in this van that will make a loud and messy explosion.”

Geek frowned. “I have a couple bricks of Semtex and detonators. Why?”

“Diversion,” Quentin said. “All I need is a trashcan and a little bit of Semtex. I’ll set small charges around the side and back of the building.”

“Good idea.” Sam held out his hand. “Show us what to do and we’ll each take a side of the building. That way we can have choices over which one to set off and when.”

“I’m not planning on hurting anyone or destroying property, other than a couple of trashcans. But if the guard gets sticky about letting Becca pass, we can set them off. It might give her the break in his attention to get her through.”

While Quentin showed Sam and Kat how much of the plastic explosive to use and how to set the detonator, Geek fitted Becca with an ultrathin headset that fit in her ear, hidden by her long dark hair.

“Hopefully we won’t need to cause a distraction. I’m counting on walking in, running the card through the turnstile and walking straight to the elevator,” Becca said confidently.

“Yeah, and since when has this operation gone that smoothly?” Quentin pulled her into his arms. “Don’t take any more chances than you have to. I’d like to see you come back out the way you go in. On both feet.”

“And not in handcuffs or a straitjacket,” Kat added with a wink.

“Or a body bag,” Sam added.

“Geek, do you have a bottle of water? I’d like to get some of the blood off my dress and arm. I don’t want to look like I just came from a warzone.”

Geek handed her a bottle of water and a clean rag. Kat went to work on the back of Becca’s dress where it was torn from the glass. “I can get the blood, but there’s not much I can do about the rip.”

“That’s okay,” Becca said. “I’ll do my best to keep my back to anyone I come in contact with.” She stood outside the van and started to pour water over her hand.

“Let me.” Quentin took the bottle from her, poured some on her hand and on a rag and dabbed at the dried blood until he’d cleaned it off completely. The bandage was on the inside of her hand. If she didn’t raise that one, it wouldn’t show. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked as he capped the bottle.

“I’m fine. A few cuts and bruises, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you sure there’s no way I can get into the building with you?”

She shook her head. “No.” Then she leaned up and kissed him on the lips. “But thanks for asking.”

He raised his hands to capture her around the waist. “I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. It’s just another day at the office for me. A lot like you going on a special operation.”

He nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about. It’s not safe.”

She smiled up at him. “I never said my job was safe. But it’s the one I have and love. It’s part of who I am.”