Smoke and Shadows (16 page)

“Can we just enjoy this night, Baran, without you ruining it?” Jack said.

“Everything all right here?” Derek asked casually behind Viktor.
 

“Always playing the peacemaker, Lockwood?” Viktor said with dry amusement.

“It’s either me or Maia. Take your pick,” Derek shot back.

Jack chuckled. “Look at us, scared of our women.”

Viktor shrugged as he slid a furtive glance at Marissa who was also frowning at them.

“Fuck me,” Derek said softly. “Am I really witnessing this?”

“Shut up, Lockwood,” Viktor snapped.

Jack cleared his throat. “So you and Ms. Cole—”

“When I said I don’t do sappy, it included gossiping.”

“Okay, okay,” Jack laughed. “No need to bite my head off.”

If looks could kill, Jack would be a dead man. Viktor leveled him with a piercing stare.
 

“I want to hear this,” Derek said. “So is Marissa the reason you’re more agreeable these days?”

Viktor swore a blue streak just when Frances chose that moment to come up to the bar.

“Language, Mr. Baran,” Frances sniffed.
 

The expression on Viktor’s face was priceless—flummoxed at being reprimanded for cursing and unable to snap back at Jack’s mother without the entire house coming down on his head. His grin widened into a full-watt smile. Maybe it was worth inviting Viktor Baran after all.
 

“Dinner’s ready,” Frances announced to the small gathering.

“I wouldn’t act too pleased, McCord,” Viktor told him when Frances was out of earshot.

“Okay, that was cute.” Marissa hugged Viktor from behind. “I never thought I’d see the day you get shut down by a hundred pound woman.”

“I knew dinner was a bad idea,” Viktor said.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried Grace’s cooking.” Maia came up to join the group. “And I’ll say this now, that none of you try and steal her because I’ll be coming after anyone who does.”

The tension dissipated. Everyone took their seats at the table.

Viktor was on good behavior all throughout dinner. At least, he seemed to have charmed his mother. Jack grasped his wife’s hand under the table. Maia’s eyes met his. God, he loved her. More than was probably healthy. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Everything was delicious, Grace,” Maia said to their housekeeper, who was busy refilling coffee.

Jack was about to second his wife’s words when someone’s phone buzzed.
 

Marissa stood up and apologized to the table. Just when she was about to step away, another phone pinged, and then another—his phone. Soon, the whole room was buzzing.

Viktor was already on his smartphone, and by the looks on his face, something big was happening.

Jack caught his wife’s eyes again. Maia’s were filled with fire. His wife was in a fighting mood.

Jack answered his phone. “McCord.”

*****

Viktor pulled in a few blocks before the Hudson Building and cursed. This was an offsite location for emergency security meetings. There was a throng of reporters already gathered at the base of the building’s sweeping staircase.

“How the hell did these leeches get here?” Viktor asked the Guardian beside him. Nathan was the only available man at the moment. Viktor had ordered Olsen to remain at AGS.

“They must have followed one of the senators.”

Viktor grunted his response. The nation’s capital had been attacked. An FBI satellite office, which housed their paramilitary operatives, and the largest Metropolitan police station, were infiltrated by two suicide bombers the previous night. A total of thirty-five men and women perished and scores were injured, many of them critical.

Al-Qaeda claimed responsibility for the attack early that morning.

Viktor worked around the clock with Tim at the datacenter, extrapolating threats by analyzing the chatter. He also recalled several Guardians from less critical missions, but they wouldn’t be arriving until the following day between cancelled incoming flights and people trying to leave Washington DC in a panic.
 

Viktor slammed out of the car and spotted Jack surrounded by reporters. It was his first public appearance since his abduction. As far as DC society knew, the couple was still on a sabbatical, which fueled vicious rumors regarding his marriage to Maia.

“Is it true that you and Maia are filing for divorce?” one reporter asked.

“Is there a third party involved?”

“Was Lee Isaac the cause of your break-up?”

Viktor snorted with disdain. Damned reporters.
 

Jack spoke into a mic shoved in his face. “Many brave men and women died last night. Let’s focus on the crisis, people.”

“Vultures, aren’t they?” a familiar voice spoke beside him. Viktor didn’t need to turn his head to know who was walking beside him.

“I’m surprised you’re not part of the circus,” he replied, still staring straight ahead.

“You wound me, Mr. Baran,” Beth Turner said. Turner was a reporter for the local tabloid, but Viktor knew she was a tenacious investigative journalist writing under a pseudonym. She was also Dr. Sophie Lockwood’s best friend, so Viktor knew better than to antagonize Ms. Turner. “Besides, I know what really happened in Paris.”

Viktor stopped walking and loomed over Beth. “And I appreciate you keeping a lid on this. Is this going to be a problem?”

Though Sophie’s friend stared up at him defiantly, there was a trace of wariness in her eyes. “You should know by now that I care about Maia and wouldn’t do anything to compromise her.”

“Good. Make sure it stays that way.”

“Are you all certain this is Al-Qaeda?” Beth asked without missing a beat.

Viktor turned away from her and dodged the crowd that was hounding Jack, Derek, the FBI director, and Senator Robinson. The senator from Virginia headed the Committee on Intelligence.
 

“They accepted responsibility, didn’t they?” He pushed through the revolving doors and fell in step at the security line. The Guardians had the necessary clearance to keep their weapons in the building. He spotted Yeager already on the opposite side of security. He needed to lose the reporter. He spoke in a low whisper. “Listen, Ms. Turner, the press need to stay out of this. Stick to the Al-Qaeda story.”

“Damn it, Baran. The people have the right to know.”

“No. The people need to stay out of our way, and that definitely includes the press.”

“Does Syria have anything to do with this?”

With extreme exasperation, Viktor said, “Honestly? I have no idea. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do.”

Viktor nodded to Nathan to step out of the line and head to a corner entrance marked “Restricted,” leaving a sputtering journalist in his wake. Two Kevlar-suited guards toting assault rifles paused to check their IDs and waved them through.

“Anything else you have for me, Baran?” Yeager walked up to him as they crossed the wide expanse of the marble rotunda leading to the meeting room.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Where’s Marissa?” Viktor hadn’t been able to reach her since last night when a tinted vehicle picked her up at the underground parking of Jack’s apartment. For all he knew, she may be on a military C-130 heading out of the country into Afghanistan. The idea screwed with his head all morning, and if Yeager wouldn’t give him a straight answer right now, he’d probably be thrown into jail for assaulting the director of black ops.

“Goddamn it, Baran. Now is not the time—”

“Where—is—Marissa?” Viktor spat out. He knew CIA huddles could mean hours and even days of communication black out. But he had no patience where his woman was concerned.
 

Yeager sighed. “We had to use her and her team to prepare our Al-Qaeda personnel for deployment.”

“So, POTUS authorized a response.”

The director nodded. “If it appeases you, Cole is on her way to AGS.” At Viktor’s raised brow, he added, “Her analyst is still working on the Al-Qaeda angle, but we need to start looking for a Syrian link. I figured you wouldn’t mind her working with your analyst if it meant she was under your protection.”

Viktor felt a measure of relief, yet a spike of anger shot through his veins.
 

“I do not appreciate being manipulated, Yeager.” His voice was icy. “My relationship with Cole—”

“Your relationship with Cole is useful,” Yeager cut him off. “But once it becomes a liability, she will have to choose. Your arrogance is getting tiresome, Baran. Don’t force my hand.”

“You son of a bitch—”

“Director Yeager.” Someone interrupted their rapidly deteriorating exchange. Senator Robinson. “We need to get the meeting underway. The President is expecting an update this morning.”

Yeager nodded for the senator to precede him into the room. He looked at Viktor, pressed his lips thinly, and crossed the meeting hall to sit in an inconspicuous corner at the front row.
Viktor was inwardly seething. He knew it was only a matter of time before his relationship with Marissa would be used against them. If he had any self-preservation, he wouldn’t have involved himself with her again, but he was in too deep, and he would challenge anyone who would try to break them up. Let them try, and he would give them the fight of their life.

“That’s some scowl on your face, Viktor,” Derek said, coming up beside him. “What the hell did Yeager say to you?”

Damn it. He couldn’t even keep his emotions in check any longer. He caught Stark shaking his head, warning Derek. Pathetic. He had become pathetic. Marissa had become his weakness. Surprisingly, he didn’t give a fuck. And he had suspicions that Yeager knew this. The man wasn’t a fool, he was bluffing. The black ops director wouldn’t sacrifice the alliance between AGS and CIA, not over his relationship with Marissa. It was simply a power play.

Viktor schooled his features and motioned for Stark to take the seats in the back row.
 

“Joining us, Derek?” Viktor deflected his friend’s question. “Why is a military contractor in this meeting?”

Derek nodded to a DoD representative seated at the far corner of the room. Technically, the U.S. military couldn’t operate blatantly within the homeland. But the rules had been circumvented covertly when needed.

“Senator Robinson invited us,” Derek said. “Washington DC needs all the help it can muster. They’ve struck at the heart of our security. Another direct hit could paralyze DC and cause panic at a national level.”

Derek took a seat beside him. Jack appeared after a few minutes, nodded to him and Nathan and sat beside Derek.
 

The directors of the FBI and DHS, together with the MPD Chief of Police, headed the meeting. Several FBI agents, officers of the MPD, and SWAT teams were in attendance to discuss strategy and tactics in case of another attack.

The CIA remained a silent entity, sitting quietly in the corner, observing.

The Director of DHS took to the floor and recounted the events of the previous night, starting with the number of casualties and the extent of structural damage.

Viktor was getting restless as he appraised the room before him. Such a gathering of important players vital to the nation’s security was making him uneasy. He began scanning the room for human and non-human threats.

“FBI and DHS agents will be working closely to make sure such an attack will not happen again. We are now working under an elevated threat level. Curfew will be in effect for most of DC for the next three days, after which we will re-assess.”

Derek shifted in his chair and leaned in to Viktor. “Are you getting the same vibes I am?”

Viktor grunted.

Derek’s phone chimed with a silly ring tone.

“Fuck!” he muttered, obviously forgetting to silence his phone and mouthing an apology to annoyed looks cast his way.
 

“Sophie found it amusing to mess with my phone,” Derek explained his less than manly ring tone when Viktor’s brow shot up. His friend checked the caller ID and appeared conflicted whether to answer it or not. He silenced it and let it go to voice mail to return his attention to the meeting.

“We’re receiving updates from the NSA regarding imminent Al-Qaeda threats. The identity of the bombers has not yet been released to the press.”

Viktor already knew the identity of the bombers. Tim had found the website with their video declaration of martyrdom. Both were U.S. citizens who had trained in Al-Qaeda camps in Afghanistan.

“The National Guard will be on standby. There are concerns about attacks from the air such as was done on 9/11. We’re working with the FAA to expand restricted air space temporarily.”

Questions were being fielded from the MPD police officers since they were the first line of defense against the terrorist attacks. Traffic rerouting and tourist evacuations were also a concern.
 

Viktor’s phone buzzed. Checking the number, he frowned. “Why is your wife calling me, Lockwood?”

Derek’s face paled as the implication hit him, the call from Sophie was urgent. His friend immediately stood up to exit the room to make a call to his wife.

Everyone heard the whistle before the room exploded in a thunderous roar of fire and debris that took down the outside wall of the room.
 

Shit
. Viktor thought. The gathering of DC’s finest was under attack.

CHAPTER TEN

RPG!

The explosion knocked Derek sideways as pandemonium took over. Another explosion rocked the outside of the meeting hall in the direction of the entrance of the building.

“This is a fucking set up!” Jack yelled as he hauled Derek behind a row of chairs.

“You think?” Viktor yelled back. “Stark, you ready?” Nathan nodded grimly.

By this time, there was a frenetic exchange of assault rifle fire. Viktor recognized the “rat-tat-tat” of an AK-47 in between rounds of the M4-carbines used by the building’s security personnel.

The MPD and the FBI agents who survived the first explosion drew their hand guns and took defensive positions. Viktor searched for Yeager and saw him taking his boss—the CIA director—toward a rear exit door.