Captain's Call of Duty
“Mendez, have you lost it? Why do I care about some damned package?”
“Look at the date of the message,” she replied.
“The twentieth of August. Big deal.”
“Wasn’t that the day your sister was kidnapped?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Check out this note.” She leaned over his shoulder to click on another email stored in the same file, and he was startled to register that she smelled good. Like fresh-cut hay, sweet and warm.
Another note popped up.
Delivery confirmation received. Recipient has not responded, however. Request further instructions.
And then a third note.
We need you to lean on HK. Make him understand what will happen if he doesn’t play ball.
Disquiet started to rumble in Jim’s gut. His father, Hank Kelley, had initially kept Lana’s kidnapping secret from the rest of the family. Hank had refused to pay a ransom and had told the kidnappers he would never bend to blackmail. Still, these vague notes didn’t come close to constituting proof that Chet Chandler knew about his sister’s kidnapping.
But then Alex opened one last message. This one contained a video clip and took several seconds to load. A room came into view from the perspective of a camera mounted high in the corner looking down on the space. A woman sat in a chair in the middle of the room. Her ankles and wrists bore metal cuffs secured to the chair. And she was blindfolded. But Jim didn’t have to see her entire face to know it was Lana.
He leaped to his feet. “Sonofa—” he exclaimed. Senator Chet Chandler was involved in his sister’s kidnapping? He’d kill the guy. Or worse, expose him. He’d ruin the bastard. Nobody messed with his little sister and got away with it.
“Copy these files for me,” Jim ground out. “I’ll have them in front of a grand jury first thing in the morning.”
“You can’t,” Alex replied. “We don’t have a warrant to search this computer.”
“Then get one!”
“By the time we get a judge to sign off on one, Chandler would hear about it and erase these before we ever get here.”
“Make me a copy of the damned things anyway,” Jim growled. “Illegally obtained or not, I want the evidence on the slime ball. I will find a way to take him down.”
Without comment, Alex reached into her pocket for a flash drive. She plugged it into the side of the senator’s computer and reached over Jim’s shoulder to strike several keys. “Done.”
“What else has Chandler got on this system?” Jim demanded.
“I don’t—” She broke off as the outer office door beeped. “Get over on the couch,” she whispered. “Write something down on this, fast.” She threw him a yellow legal pad, slammed the screen on the laptop shut, and raced for the outer office door.
He heard her say pleasantly from the other room, “Hey, Parker. Mike said you’d stop by. How’s Marly?”
Impressed, Jim listened to her and the guard chat about the guy’s apparently about-to-have-a-baby wife. Man. Alex really was cool under pressure. The guard poked his head into the senator’s office and Jim looked up from his legal pad casually. He nodded at the guard, who nodded back.
In a few moments, the fellow left and Alex came back into the office. She picked up where they’d left off. “Here’s the thing,” she explained. “If I copy the entire contents of the senator’s hard drive, it’ll only give us a snapshot of what’s on the system this very minute. I’d rather have a way to track what he’s doing from day-to-day.”
“Can you do that?” Jim asked.
“I don’t have the gear with me to do it tonight, but I can get the stuff and plant a transmitter on his motherboard. But I’ll need to set up another computer somewhere nearby to act as the shadow system.”
“Shadow system?”
She nodded. “The second computer will act exactly like the first computer. We’ll see every keystroke the senator makes, every email he receives or sends, every file he opens, saves or deletes. Although, on our system, nothing will actually delete.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re scary, Mendez?”
She smiled wolfishly. “All the time.”
It was a quick matter to wipe down the senator’s desk for fingerprints and turn out the lights. But Jim was surprised when she left the outer office lights on and then led him away from the elevator bank they’d used to come upstairs.
“What’s up?” he murmured under his voice.
“We’re supposed to be pulling an all-nighter working on a set of questions. Unless you want to sit in the office the rest of night, I thought we’d use the back door.”
“But you said it would take an hour to get through its security.”
“From the outside. From inside the building it’s a two-minute job to disable the thing. Our only problems are Parker and the cleaning crew. I’ll take point.”
And just like that, she strode off down the hall, leaving him to follow behind. Memories of a dark, rocky valley flashed through his head. Another woman taking point. His misgivings about letting her do it, the rolled eyes of the other guys on the op, his determination to let her prove herself to the unit …
He shook his head and scowled at Alex’s attempt to play toy soldier. She didn’t get it at all. She had no idea how dangerous it was in the field and wasn’t the slightest bit equipped to handle it, physically or emotionally.
She surprised him by hand-signaling a retreat, Special Forces style. His many years of training kicked in and he obeyed, not questioning the order. He turned, raced down the hall they currently were in, and ducked into the next available side hall. She joined him a second later. They froze in the shadowed alcove, shoulder to shoulder, as a janitor rolled a cleaning cart past them. The guy never saw them. A door opened and the cart creaked inside.
Alex glided out to the main hallway, peeked around the corner, and signaled him to proceed. Amusement flared in his gut. She had all the moves, he’d grant her that. But nobody was shooting at them or hunting them with the intent to kill. And that made all the difference between a real field op and this little pretend game of hers. But who was he to puncture her balloon? He dutifully followed her to the service exit and stood lookout while she disabled the door alarm.
She hadn’t lied. In under two minutes they slipped out into the cool Washington night. He unclipped his badge and passed it to her to hand in to the security guard in the morning. They walked around the corner to his car. He drove away slowly enough not to draw any attention to himself; they were just another pair of weary staffers going home after burning the midnight oil.
But when they were safely a few blocks away, Jim pulled the car over and asked, “When can you have the senator’s computer bugged?”
“Noon tomorrow.”
“How so soon?” he demanded.
“I’ll send the senator a virus in an email. It’ll freeze up his system. He’ll panic and call me into his office to fix it. I’ll take apart the computer, wire the transmitter to the motherboard, and then erase the virus. No sweat.”
Ballsy, to plant a bug right under her boss’s nose. Jim nodded tersely. “I want to know everything. How involved is this guy in Lana’s kidnapping? Who’s he working with? Who did those emails come from? Particularly the one that told him to lean on my old man. If Chandler’s just a pawn in this thing, I want to know who the king is.”
“I’m going to need somewhere to set up the shadow computer. Somewhere close. Like an office or an apartment.”
“I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning,” he replied tersely.
“What about a search warrant for Chet’s computer?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. You were right. We don’t want to spook Chandler. I’ll run the paperwork for your bug through military channels. The people who had me put you in Chandler’s office can green-light us. And they won’t leak anything.”
She glanced over at him sharply, but then looked away hastily. Why had she gone skittish on him all of a sudden? “What?” he demanded.
“Us?” she mumbled. “Are you coming on board my op, then?”
“This scumbucket can lead me to Lana’s kidnappers—or he might even be one of them. Hell, yes, I’m in.” He added grimly, “Call me when the bug’s in place.”
She nodded.
“You need a ride to your place?” he offered.
“It’s too far out of your way,” she protested.
“I’m wide awake and too pissed off at Chandler to go back to sleep any time soon.”
“Fine. Then head south on I-395 to the Beltway.”
He followed her directions to a nondescript apartment complex in suburban Virginia that looked like every other apartment complex around it. She reached for her door handle to jump out, and he stopped her with a hand on her left forearm.
“Hey, Al. Thanks. You did good tonight.”
She nodded and then all but fell out of his car. He grinned. That girl was a mess. He drove home thoughtfully. Why on earth was Chet Chandler mixed up in something as dangerous and potentially career-ending as kidnapping?
Jim’s gut said that Chet Chandler’s strings were being pulled by the same person or persons the kidnappers had worked for. His father believed the Raven’s Head Society was behind Lana’s kidnapping. According to Hank, the Ravens included some of the richest, most powerful, most influential people on the planet. But then, according to Hank, the Ravens also had a plan to rule the world in secret.
Who was the unseen player pulling Chet Chandler’s strings? All the signs pointed to there being one. Who in this town had the raw power to force United States senators to dance for them? What had Mendez stumbled into the middle of?
Chapter 2
It was a strange feeling planting a bug in a man’s computer while he stood over her, watching. Not to mention the man being grateful to have her do it.
“What would I do without you, Alex?” Senator Chandler commented as he sat down at his now-functioning computer.
She laughed. “You’d be on a first-name basis with the Congressional I.T. support guys.”
“You’re way better than those idiots,” Chandler declared. “And faster.”
She shrugged modestly. I ought to be better than those guys. I trained a bunch of them. “Just give me a shout if it acts up again, sir.”
She backed out of Chandler’s office. It was likely he wouldn’t notice her existence again until the next time his computer had a problem. She was good at being invisible. Of course, it was easy enough to do with everyone bustling around here as if the world would stop spinning if their current personal crisis didn’t get solved in the next two minutes.
Come to think of it, she’d been pretty invisible on the ranch, too. She’d been just one of the passel of kids and puppies who’d run all over the place in the summers. She and Lana had been the only girls. But nobody had ever doubted that Lana was all girl. She wore pretty clothes and didn’t like snakes or worms or touching fish, and she’d refused to rough-house with her brothers. Alex had been willing to do any of that stuff if it meant she got to spend time with Jim Kelley. And then there was her dad, of course. After the accident, he’d never been the same …
“Thanks for working your magic, Alex,” her supervisor in Chandler’s office said warmly. “I owe you one.”
Alex smiled. “Speaking of which, I’ve got a dentist appointment this afternoon. Will it be a problem for me to take a long lunch?”
The harassed chief-of-staff, Trevor McKinley, replied, “Are you kidding? You saved my life getting the boss’s computer up and running again so fast. Take the rest of the day off.”
Alex smiled and slipped out of the office. When she stepped onto the sidewalk, she pulled out her cell phone and called Jim’s office extension.
“Captain Kelley,” he answered shortly.
“Hi, it’s me. I’m done.”
“Perfect. Can I pick you up somewhere?”
She blinked, startled. He wanted to come get her? Vividly aware of not wanting to talk about sensitive information over an unsecured phone, she replied lightly, “How about I meet you?”
“Kirby’s. Noon. Lunch,” he bit out.
A lunch date with Jim Kelley? Holy cow. “Uhh, okay. See ya there.” She disconnected the call in minor shock. It was just work, but still. She was having lunch with him! She glanced down at her clothes in dismay. She looked like a prison guard in these severe gray pants and white Oxford shirt. No help for it. She didn’t have time to go home and make it back downtown before noon. So much for acting more like Lana Kelley. Abandoning the Beast in its outrageously expensive spot in the parking garage around the corner, she opted to grab the Metro to the other end of the Mall and Kirby’s Diner.
When she walked into the crowded joint at five minutes till twelve, Jim was already there. She was thankful that he subscribed religiously to the army theory that if you weren’t five minutes early, you were late. He spotted her and waved. Somehow, he’d managed to snag a postage-stamp-sized table that optimistically was supposed to seat two. She made her way through the noisy crush to join him.
She sat down and gulped as her knee promptly banged into his. She levered herself sideways to avoid physical contact with him. No way could she eat a messy hamburger while rubbing knees with the man. She’d choke to death for sure. She picked up the glass of ice water he’d already ordered for her and took a sip.
“How was your morning?” he asked.
“Productive. Yours?” she replied more breathlessly than she liked.
“The same.” Grinning, he reached into his pocket and fished out a set of keys. “Here.”
“What are these?”
“Keys to the love nest you and I are about to borrow on Capitol Hill for a little while.”
She inhaled sharply, which was unfortunate given that she was still sipping at her water. She coughed violently enough that Jim reached around to thump her on the back, which didn’t do a darned thing to help her breathe.
“Jeez. Don’t say things like that to a girl when she’s drinking.”
Abruptly grim, he murmured under the din around them, “We’re green-lighted.”
“For what?”
“Full-blown op. Looks like you’re finally going to get your wish to play soldier, and I’m going to get mine to go after Lana’s kidnappers.”
She jolted. He doesn’t know about all the things I’ve done to finagle working with him, does he? Belatedly, she realized he was talking about their argument yesterday. She scowled. “I still want to go to a war zone. Experience real combat. A ‘love nest’ on Capitol Hill hardly qualifies.”
“I dunno. The halls of power in this town can be pretty cutthroat.”
She rolled her eyes as a waitress came to take their orders and left again.
Jim leaned close. “Whatever you want, you’ve got it. Sky’s the limit.”
If only.
“Any gear, any cool gadgets you need. Just say the word.”
Whoopee. Gadgets.
“The place is furnished. All we’ve got to do is move in and go for it.”
Does he have to keep saying things like that? I’d love nothing better than to go for it with him.
“You think you’re up to this, Al?”
“Uhh. Yeah. Sure.”
“I can’t wait to nail that guy.”
I can’t wait to nail him. Oh, wait. Work. This is the mission I’ve been dreaming of getting. Minus the war zone. But hey. It’s a start.
Their lunch arrived and she stared down in dismay at the juicy burger, piled high with all the trimmings. She doubted she could get her mouth around that thing, let alone do it in either a neat or ladylike fashion.
Abandoning fashion for common sense, she unfolded her napkin and tucked it into the front of her shirt before she tackled the hamburger. Jim grinned and did the same. But then, he was wearing a three-hundred-dollar silk tie.
“When do you have to get back to the office?” he asked just as she took a bite of her sandwich.
She chewed convulsively. Don’t choke. Don’t choke. Don’t choke. Finally, she was able to answer safely, “Tomorrow morning. Trevor gave me the rest of the day off.”
“Who’s Trevor?”
Stunned, Alex stared at him. He sounded a shade defensive there for a second. “My boss. Chandler’s chief of staff.”
“Ahh.”
To Alex’s immense relief, they ate in silence after that. The last thing she needed was for Jim to have to give her the Heimlich maneuver and for her to spew half-chewed hamburger all over the place.
“Did you drive?” he asked after he casually flipped a couple of bills on the table to cover the meal and a hefty tip.
“No. The Beast is still up on the Hill.”
“Why do you keep that thing anyway?”
Because her father had saved his money for a year to buy the wreck and the two of them had fixed it up together the first winter after her brother died. She was fairly certain the car had saved her brokenhearted father’s life. And then he’d given it to her when she graduated from high school…. Its sentimental value was beyond price.
“It still runs. Why would I get rid of a perfectly functional car?” she demanded.
He shrugged. “Guess I’m driving then.”
They got into his sexy little Beemer—how did he manage to keep getting plum parking spots like that?—and headed out.
Of course, the love nest came with underground parking for two. The Beast was going to adore getting to sit beside Jim’s sleek sports car. The building also had a weight room, hot tub and indoor swimming pool, but she doubted she and Jim would be making much use of those facilities.
The building manager gave them each key cards to the building, their own security codes, and introduced them to the doorman. Finally, they were shown up to their borrowed flat and left alone.
The place wasn’t as posh as Jim’s house, but then he’d no doubt had some fancy decorator with an unlimited budget do his place. But it was a whole lot nicer than her apartment, and the furniture all matched. More to the point, it was less than three blocks from the Dirksen Building, well within the range of the bug she’d planted in the senator’s laptop.
“It only has one bedroom,” she accused. With an obscenely huge bed, no less.
“What part of love nest don’t you grasp?” he replied.
She glared at him and changed the subject. “How in the heck am I supposed to sneak my gear up here past all those doormen and security cameras?”
“I’ll help you carry it up. We’ll bring it up in pieces if we have to.”
“Oh, we’ll have to, all right.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your back, kid.”
She really wished he’d quit calling her that. It made her feel about twelve years old. But she supposed it was better than Al. That’s what he called her around the battalion when he wasn’t bellowing out her last name at her. She sighed. How did Lana Kelley so effortlessly keep her female identity around all those guys on the ranch? Every summer, when the time drew near for the arrival of the Kelley kids for their annual summer sojourn in Montana, she’d dreaded Lana’s arrival nearly as much as she’d anticipated Jim’s.
It took the rest of the afternoon for them to shuttle electronic surveillance equipment from the battalion to Jim’s car, and from his car to the love nest, disguised in cardboard boxes he took delight in labeling things such as Naughty Lingerie and Miscellaneous Toys.
By supper time, she had an elaborate computer system up and running on the desk in the corner of the living room—the shadow system to Chet Chandler’s—and a second one to record and backup everything from the first one.
“Does it work?” Jim asked over her shoulder as she typed in the senator’s password to activate the system.
“Of course it works,” she replied scornfully. “I built it.”
“Now what?”
“Now we watch what Chet does. He’s checking his calendar right now.”
It was a little eerie watching commands and words scroll across her screen as if a ghost were typing on her keyboard.
“So, just out of curiosity,” she asked, “is this a legal wiretap, or is it completely off the books?”
“Both. My superiors have declared this a Homeland Security investigation, which means we have permission to pretty well stomp all over the good senator’s constitutional privacy rights. But it’s definitely way off the books. We don’t know how deep into the government whoever’s controlling Chet has their hooks. Only a handful of people have any idea what you and I are doing.”
“Heck, I don’t have any idea what we’re doing. For months I’ve been working for the senator and I still have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking for.”
“Have you got a white-noise maker?” he asked quietly.
She frowned. “We’ve already swept the place for bugs or cameras.”
“I know.” He gave her a sober look.
Well, okay then. “Lemme go get it.” It took her several minutes of digging around in her “Boring Underwear” box to find the darned thing, but she brought the noisemaker into the living room and plugged it in. She threw Jim an expectant look.
He gestured for her to sit on the other end of the sofa from him. Even with the electronic interference of her gadget all around them, he still spoke barely above a whisper. What on earth could be making the man this paranoid?
“We have reason to believe that Senator Chandler is part of a large-scale conspiracy. The same one that nearly killed my father.”
“How’s Hank doing by the way? Any change?”
“No. They’ve still got him in the induced coma until the swelling in his brain comes down some more. We were hoping he could tell us exactly who’s involved in this conspiracy, or at least who threatened him when Lana was kidnapped. It may be a while yet before he can talk … assuming he remembers anything at all when he wakes up.”
“What does Lana have to do with this conspiracy thing?” Alex asked, startled.
“We believe whoever kidnapped her did it to force my father into cooperating with this group. Maybe they needed him to do something for them.”
“Why couldn’t they get some other congressman to do their dirty work for them? Why him?” Alex asked.
Jim shrugged. “Until he wakes up and can tell us that, your guess is as good as mine. Lord knows, my old man is no saint.”
That wasn’t news to her. But it was hard to imagine him lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He’d always been so loud and forceful and dynamic. As a kid, she’d been more than a little afraid of him.
“What do you know about this conspiracy?” she asked.
“Precious little. We know they recruit rich and powerful people. They probably hide their money behind some corporate shell company.”
“What do they want?”
“In a word—power.”
She sighed. “Them and everyone else in this town.”
“I’m talking serious power. Way beyond what some elected schmuck can gather in a few terms on the right committees. I’m talking running nations. Taking down world leaders if they feel like it. Starting wars. Or ending them.”
Whoa. He was talking Power with a capital P. “So we’re looking for links to these guys in Senator Chandler’s computer? Have you got a name? Anything?”
“Nope. We’re running blind.”
Good thing he had her, then. Her job was to give eyes and ears—real-time, usable intelligence—to operators in the field. “All right then. Let’s take a look at Chet’s email correspondence. If we don’t find anything there, how about we move on to a list of his biggest donors? Stands to reason if he’s in someone’s back pocket, that person is paying to keep the senator in office.”
Jim nodded. “The money’s probably coming in privately or through some network of cover corporations.”
She grinned. “That would be why I’ve got the second computer here. How about I surf the internet and see what I can scare up on his various donors? Maybe I can find connections between some of them.”
“Have at it. I hate to abandon you, but I’ve got to get back to the office. Delta Company’s about to touch down in Africa and I need to get their initial threat assessment.”