Captain's Call of Duty. Cindy Dees

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ