No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight (22 page)

Chapter Forty-Seven

“What are you doing?” I asked Slash as he climbed to the front of the van and slid in behind the wheel.

“We’re leaving.”

“Is it safe?”

“We don’t have any choice. We’ll have to risk it.”

I pulled up the front door camera. There was still a lot of police activity in the driveway, but the street was not blocked off and no one seemed to be watching the street.

“Okay. Let’s do it. I don’t see anyone who will stop us.”

I pulled up video as Slash pulled away from the curb. “Elvis, are you there?”

His face came into view. “I’m here.”

“Have you been listening?”

“I have. What do you want me to do?”

“Well, we’ve got to make sure the police can’t track this raid back to us and we’ve only got one hour to release our code before they release theirs.”

“Don’t look at me to release the code.” Panic crossed his face. “I don’t have a clue where or how he intends to release it. Man, that’s all in Slash’s head, not mine.”

“I know. Get started on erasing the security video starting about ten minutes before our appearance and up to just before Beau’s arrival. Make sure to leave Shi’s phone call.”

“Ok, I’m on it. Shouldn’t be an issue. All of the video is shipped off-site for cloud storage.”

I peered at the monitor. “Slash, is there any way for us to release the black code from this laptop?” Even as I asked, I sincerely doubted it. The black code would require specific release architecture and protocols that were not present on my laptop.

Slash shook his head. “No. We’ve got to get back to the hotel room and quick.”

Swallowing my panic, I turned to Elvis. “We’re on the way back to the hotel. Assemble the code and do a final check, okay? It’s got to be ready to go.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Watch for any escalation or preparation for an attack. Pull in Xavier to help monitor.”

“Got it.” He clicked off.

I leaned forward, my hands on the back of Slash’s seat, looking out the front window. “Is anyone following us?”

Slash glanced in the rearview mirror. “Not yet.”

“Well, there’s that at least.”

“
Cara
, listen to me carefully. There is something I need you to do right now.”

“What?”

“Get to the keyboard. You need to send a message.”

I scrambled back to the chair, the laptop nearly sliding off the table as Slash took another corner hard. “Hey, take it easy. We almost lost the laptop.”

“Sorry.”

“To whom am I sending this message and from what account?” I asked.

“Get an anonymous account. I’ll provide the email.”

“An anonymous account is going to take time.” I blew out a breath of frustration. “Time we don’t have. Not to mention, all I’ve got is a weak signal.”

“Do your best. Just get me something.”

I dived into the web, hopping around with the speed of a sloth until I finally had something to work with. “I’ve got something. Not perfect, but it should do.”

“Is it traceable?”

Panic was combining with irritation. “
Anything
is traceable, Slash.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We’re good for now. I can work on fixing it later. It doesn’t really matter, does it? They will know you sent the message, right? Just give me the address.”

He gave it to me and I typed it in.

“Now what’s this message supposed to say?” I steadied the laptop as it slipped sideways. I was practically typing one-handed in order to keep the laptop steady.

Slash spoke clearly and deliberately. “We have indisputable evidence that in less than one hour, the Red Guest will release a malicious code called Nightfall. At this time the US has elected
not
to respond preemptively. That may change if action is not taken to stop this. We
will
respond to any attack. Do not doubt that we have the capability. This is one last chance at a stalemate and an understanding that the ability for mutual assured destruction is so terrible neither of us should use it. If Nightfall is released, it will be a cyber catastrophe for both countries, and by extension, the world. We do not have the luxury of time as we just became aware of the pending attack. If we don’t hear from you within the next forty-five minutes or see any evidence of an escalation leading to an attack, we will respond accordingly.”

I typed the final letter and then sat back, my mind reeling. We were teetering on the brink of cyberwar. History in the making in the back of a van with
my
fingers on the keyboard.

“Do I press Send?” I asked, my voice wavering.

“Immediately.”

I sent it and then double-checked to make sure it went. “It’s gone. To whom did we just send it?”

“I’ve been cultivating an online relationship with a certain Chinese official.”

“That guy at the embassy? Chunlin? The one with whom you were talking about cyber détente?”

“He’s the one.”

“Wait. We’re trusting
him
?” I sat back in stunned surprise. “You do understand that he is the Minister of Security. That means he’s in charge of the secret police and does, you know, democratic suppression and all that.”

“I’m well aware of that fact.”

“Well, what if it’s his
very
department that’s financing the development of China’s black code. He could be the money mind behind the very operations of the Red Guest. How can you possibly believe he’s trustworthy?”

“I’m not certain he’s trustworthy.” Slash maneuvered forward, barely squeezing between a few cars that had pulled over to let us past. “But Chunlin isn’t stupid. He understands the consequences of a war at this level. It’s just a hunch. Sometimes you have to operate on faith.”

“That’s
so
not logical.”

“True. But sometimes it’s all you’ve got.”

Before I could respond, we came to a screeching halt. I fell out of the chair, twisting my body so I protected the laptop that fell with me. My head clunked the side of the van.

“Ouch!” I sat up, rubbing my head. “That hurt. What happened?”

When Slash didn’t answer, I scrambled to my feet and looked with horror at the line of cars stretched ahead of us.

A horrible, impossible Washington, DC, traffic jam.

We’d never make it in time.

Chapter Forty-Eight

“Oh, dear God,” I said. “How are we going to get to the hotel in time?”

Slash slammed his hand on the steering wheel and let out a long stream of words in Italian. I was pretty sure he wasn’t referring to kittens and unicorns.

Behind us I heard the wail of sirens.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Slash looked in the rearview mirror. “Fire engines coming up behind us. There’s probably an accident ahead.”

My mind raced. “Wait. Beau borrowed this van from the Baltimore PD, right? It’s a
police
van. Quick, check under the seat to see if it has a portable flashing beacon light. Hurry. I’ll look back here.”

I started going through boxes when I heard Slash say, “I’ve got one. I think I know where you’re going with this.”

Slash rolled down the window and slapped the blue flashing beacon on top of the van. It was already spinning and flashing.

“I guess it would be too much to hope for a siren,” I said.

“We won’t need one,” he said. The fire engines screamed as they got closer.

I leaned forward to the front seat so I could see the passenger-side mirror. The traffic was pulling over to make room for the fire engines.

“Ready?” I asked him.

“Ready.”

As soon as the fire engines passed, Slash yanked hard on the steering wheel, falling in directly behind the engines.

“It’s working,” I shouted as the traffic parted as we moved forward on the tail of the engines.

It took us seven minutes to get to the scene of the accident. As we blasted past the scene and shot forward, we got surprised looks from the police on the ground.

“Good thing they’re too busy to follow,” I said. “I hope.”

Slash didn’t answer. We raced down the street, weaving through traffic and turning down side streets so he could keep us moving. We kept the light flashing so people stayed out of our way and no police cars started chasing us.

Yet.

“Time?” Slash asked curtly.

I glanced at the laptop. “We have thirty-seven minutes left.”

“Check the account. Anything?”

I pulled up the account from which we had sent the email. “Nothing.”

We were still at least twenty minutes from the hotel. I called Elvis, using the video cam. “How’s it going?” I asked when he popped up.

“What kind of question is that? I’m sitting on a nuclear bomb. I’m nervous as hell. When are you guys getting here?”

“We ran into some traffic. Is the code ready?”

“As ready as it can be. You do realize Slash didn’t even have time to review what we did.”

I swallowed. That was the truth. That meant he had to trust we did it right. If we didn’t, the mistake would cost the world more than was imaginable. My mind raced through all sorts of doomsday scenarios until I shut it down. I couldn’t dwell on that now. Strain was evident on Elvis’s face. I figured I had the same look.

“Time?” Slash asked again.

I looked at the computer. “We have twenty-four minutes. Slash, we don’t even know if the Red Guest is going to release it exactly on the hour or whether they’ll just let it go whenever it’s ready.”

“We can’t worry about that now.

“Any answer to our email?”

I checked and shook my head. “No. No response yet. Elvis, any evidence of escalation?”

“None that we see. We’re in a holding pattern.”

I glanced at my watch. “We’ll be there as soon as we can. Stand by.”

“Trust me,” Elvis said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I clicked off. Slash had made good time, but it was going to be tight. He rocketed down the streets, going through red lights and stop signs. I closed the laptop, put it in its bag and looped it over my shoulder.

Within minutes we were coming up on the hotel. “I take it we are not going to park in the garage,” I said.

“Hell, no,” Slash said, turning the wheel hard, causing me to slide to the other side of the van. In the back, the folding table hit the side of the van and collapsed.

“You ready to hop out?” he asked me.

“I am.” I glanced at my watch. “Seven minutes.”

“It’s enough if they don’t jump the gun.”

“I hope you’re right.” I squeezed the laptop to my chest.

He screeched to a halt. He’d pulled up to the curb near the hotel. I scooted to the back just as he wrenched open the door and extended a hand.

“Let’s go,” he said.

We dashed across the street and into the hotel lobby. I pushed the button, waiting impatiently for the elevator to arrive.

Just as it dinged its arrival, a voice said, “Don’t move. FBI.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

I whirled around and saw Slash and an FBI agent pointing guns at each other. The agent was young, dressed in a jacket and tie with a shock of blond hair and flushed cheeks. Definitely right out of freaking college. His hand trembled as he held the gun on Slash, but he tried to look authoritative. He failed miserably.

“
Cara
, get on the elevator,” Slash said in a calm voice.

I stuck out a hand to stop the elevator from closing when the agent shouted. “I said don’t move.”

“Here’s the situation,” Slash said evenly. “I could shoot you before you got a shot off at me. Even if you were faster on the trigger—which we both know you aren’t—you can’t shoot us both. You have to trust me when I say that we are in the middle of an important matter of national security. So, she’s going to get on that elevator and you and I will have a discussion after she leaves. Do you understand me? Go. You know what you have to do.”

I took a step into the elevator, bracing for a shot that didn’t come. The elevator door shut and I pressed the button for our floor. My hands were shaking. As soon as the door opened, I sprinted down the hallway to our room.

“Elvis, open up!” I shouted, banging on the door. “Hurry.”

The door opened and I ran past Elvis, tearing the bag off my shoulders and pulling the laptop out of the bag.

“Where’s Slash?” Elvis said, looking bewildered.

“We’ve been had,” I said putting my laptop on the table and opening it. “The FBI is downstairs. We’ve got to do this without him.”

“
What?
”

I signed in and shoved my laptop at him. “We have three minutes at most. Check this email account one last time to see if we got a response.” I rattled off the information so he could find it. “I’m going to send the code.”

“
You?
”

“No, Kim Kardashian. Yes, me.”

Elvis sat down, his fingers flying across the keyboard. My hands were shaking as I started the necessary protocols.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Elvis asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

We fell silent a moment, each working as quickly as we could to get things underway. My heart was pounding.

“Elvis, what do you have from the account?”

“It’s loading slowly.” He tapped on the keyboard. “The good news is that Xavier just reported in that there is still no evidence of any escalation or a launched attack. If they are preparing an attack, they aren’t using any of their standard protocols. Just give me a minute on the email.”

“We don’t have a minute.”

Someone hit the door hard. “FBI. Open up.”

“Oh, no!” Elvis exclaimed. “They’re here.”

I finished the protocol and my finger hovered over the send button. “This is it, Elvis. It’s ready to go. Should I send it?”

The door crashed open. Elvis leaped from his chair to stand in front of me like a shield.

“Do it,” he commanded.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion after that. Perhaps as evidence of divine intervention or fate, my laptop spun toward me when Elvis jumped up. On the screen—from the mail account where I’d sent the original message of warning—was an answer in all caps.

THREAT NEUTRALIZED. STALEMATE. STAND DOWN.

Holy Armageddon!
Did I trust the message was legit or press Send?

The blood thrummed in my ears as the FBI agents crowded into the room with their weapons drawn. They were shouting something, but my focus was so insular I couldn’t make it out. Elvis still shielded me and shouted something back.

Taking a deep breath, I made my decision. I typed the command to activate the fail-safe on the code and sent it into deep hiding before an agent grabbed me by my arm, dragging me from the chair and cuffing me.

Elvis’s gaze met mine as he was forced down on the bed and cuffed, as well. “Did you send it?”

I gave him a weak smile. “Didn’t have to. Apparently we came to a stalemate at the last minute. The world is safe for another day.”

Elvis closed his eyes, relief washing across his face. “Damn, that was close.”

“Isn’t it always?” I answered as the FBI gripped us under our armpits and hauled us out of the room.

* * *

Five hours later, Elvis, Slash and I walked out of an unmarked office building together in northwest Washington, DC. Two FBI agents followed us at a discreet distance—Slash’s regular detail. We headed for the underground parking lot where an SUV, on loan to Slash, was parked.

This was first time all three of us had been reunited since being taken into custody by the FBI. The FBI had just released us and we’d met up in the lobby, exhausted and drained. Slash told Elvis he’d drop him off at home and then Slash and I were headed to his place.

“Well, I’m glad
that’s
over,” Elvis said as we walked. “I can cross exhaustive questioning by agents of the NSA and FBI using good guy/bad guy techniques off my bucket list. That was seriously grueling.”

“I suppose that’s the idea.” I rubbed my eyes. I, too, was exhausted mentally, physically and emotionally. “I’m just glad we’re off the hook for now.”

“You’re sure we’re off the hook?” Elvis asked. “Totally?”

Slash nodded. “We’re still working through things, but essentially,
si
.”

Elvis gave an audible sigh of relief and I patted his shoulder. “So, Slash, the Red Guest never released their code, right?”

“Right,” Slash answered. “No blips, no escalation, no nothing. It looks like it was a true stalemate. It was a good call,
cara
.”

“Technically, it was
your
call. It was just
my
finger on the nuclear button, which I might add, was a totally nerve-racking place for it to be.”

“Cool head under pressure,” he murmured.

“I still can’t believe your hunch was right.” I blew out a breath. “It was a huge risk.”

“More often than not, that’s how diplomacy works.” He tipped his head. “Just don’t tell anyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “How can you be so sure it’s safe to return home?” I fiddled with the strap on my purse as we walked. “Do the FBI and NSA really believe we are no longer under a threat?”

“They do. They, and I, believe we have all the major players under wraps right now.”

I trusted him, so I tried to relax. “So, what happened in the lobby with that young agent after I left?”

“Yeah, spill,” Elvis said, pushing the glasses up on his nose. “When Lexi barged into the room without you, shouting the FBI had found us, I thought the world was ending.”

“Well, it sort of was,” I said, with a small smile.

Slash held out a key fob and pressed a button. A black SUV about four cars down beeped and flashed its lights. “Nothing much happened. I talked him out of getting himself shot before his reinforcements showed up. I would have taken him down if he shot at Lexi or me, but he was too green, too indecisive. I was counting on that. I was pretty sure he’d been told to bring us in alive. I also knew he wasn’t alone, so I was simply buying us—you—some time without anyone getting hurt. Looks like the plan worked.”

We’d reached the car. Before he opened the door, Slash paused with one hand on the side of the car and turned to look at us. Elvis and I stopped in our tracks.

He paused a moment, assessing us. “Before we leave here, there is something I want to say to both of you. You did well—better than well. There are only a few people who know what you did and sacrificed, and I’m one of them. Your work on the code, on everything, was nothing short of genius, as was your dedication.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on my cheek, murmuring in my ear, “I’ll thank
you
later.”

He straightened and turned his gaze on Elvis. “I’m not overstating it when I say the security sheath was spectacular, and your support of Lexi while I was incapacitated, invaluable. I don’t know how to best express my deep appreciation to you, Elvis. So, thank you...friend.” He held out a hand to Elvis.

After a moment, Elvis reached out and took it. As they shook, I threw my arms around them both so we were locked in a group hug.

“Hey, don’t forget Xavier,” I said, my words muffled by Slash’s leather jacket. “He wouldn’t be happy to hear we’ve excluded him from the group hoorah.”

When we pulled back, Slash was smiling. “True. Guess that means I’ll have to come up with a damn good wedding present for him.”