The End Game (A Brit in the FBI 3)

But the laughter died a quick death when Mike looked out the window yet again to see the orange plume of flame still reaching into the sky.

He said quietly, “We’re going to stop them, Mike. They don’t stand a chance against the two of us.”

He reached over and took her hand, gave it a squeeze.

He rocked with surprise when she said, in the most vicious voice he’d ever heard, “If Reeves isn’t dead when we find him, I’m going to slam his ass up against the wall, maybe knee him a couple of times to show him how serious I am, and he’s going to split right open and tell us everything in that pea brain of his.”

That’s my girl. “Remind me not to get on your bad side. See, like I told you—fierce.”

Five minutes later, Nicholas pulled in front of Richard Hodges’s house. It was quiet. No lights were on. No draperies twitched, no shadows moved into defensive positions because of an unscheduled visitor. Even the air had stilled. The silence was eerie.

Both of them went on red alert. Mike already had her Glock in her hand, and fear in her belly.

She whispered, “Do you think maybe they already moved him to a safe house?”

He didn’t answer, he was calling it in, speaking low. He hung up, shook his head. They stepped quietly to the red front door. Nicholas tried the knob. The door opened easily. Not good. He mouthed, One, two, three, and they went in.

11

QUEEN TO B3

On the road to Brooklyn

Matthew drove like a Sunday grandmother, always on the alert for cops.

Vanessa turned in the seat to face him. “Matthew, talk to me. Do you think Darius died in the fire?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about Darius.”

Everything inside her sharpened to pinpoint focus. The way he’d said those words. “Why?”

He shrugged. “You might as well know. Darius is alive and well and moving into position for our next step. He’s done everything I asked tonight.”

Or you did everything Darius asked? She felt pounding rage; she wanted to tear his throat out. No, she had to be calm, she had to keep it together, she had to find out what was going on. Next step of what?

Time to try the spurs. “I see. First, you didn’t bother to tell me that you were going to test out your bombs tonight and kill people, and then second, you didn’t bother to tell me Darius was just fine, thank you? This s

mall detail somehow slipped that genius brain of yours? I laid on that hill for an hour waiting for him to come out, watching the dead and the injured being ambulanced out, and it was all for nothing because you couldn’t be bothered to tell me?” He looked taken aback. She poured on more, slammed her fist on the seat. “Didn’t it occur to you that I could have been taken? The FBI was there, and wouldn’t they have done a happy dance if they’d nabbed me? Why didn’t you tell me, Matthew? About the bomb? That you’d finally perfected it? That you were going to test it out? About Darius? Why?”

He had the gall to laugh at her. “Oh, I perfected it a while back. What, are you jealous, Vanessa?”

“No, you moron. What I am is sick and tired of being kept out of the loop, always trying to prove myself, which I have, over and over, always trying to make you trust me. I’ve done everything you wanted and done it well, yet you treat me like some sort of outsider.

“Then Darius shows up with a bag of money and you fall all over him. Who is he? Do you even know? I know, I know, I’ve heard his rhetoric—he hates the terrorists as much as you do, wants them to choke on their oil. I’ve heard the both of you having a cursefest against them, but so what? I’m your bomb maker. I’ve been with you since Belfast when Ian brought us together. You always said you needed me because this bomb you were building—you weren’t going to use it because you didn’t want to take any chances you might hurt someone, you wanted it for leverage, to force our government into stopping oil imports.

“So what happened, Matthew? Darius changed your mind, obviously. Where is Darius and what is he doing? What are you two planning?”

His hand shot out and gripped her knee, hard. She felt equal parts surprise and pain. Should she break his hand? She wanted to, but she didn’t move, said only, her voice perfectly calm, “You’re hurting me.”

“I need to make my point clear, apparently. You are a soldier, Vanessa, my soldier, to be told where to go and what to do. Don’t you understand? We are at war with radical Islam, with all the jihadist fanatics who would destroy our world and us with it. I had to make a big point tonight that if our country continues to import their freaking oil, they’re as bad as the terrorists. And I made it, and it’s about time I made it.

“And like you said, sweetheart, I didn’t search you out, Ian brought you to me, promised me you wanted in, promised me you were good.”

“And you trust Ian. You worked with him for years. Why don’t you trust me? Ian does. Even crazy Andy does. You didn’t search out Darius, either. He came to you, like I did.”

“Come on, Vanessa, you told me yourself you wanted a chance to right the wrongs, to mete out well-deserved punishment to the terrorists and those fools who import their oil. I’m the leader of our group and what I do with Darius is none of your business. I make the decisions, select the targets, whip up the media and hopefully the public. Not you. You do what I tell you to do. Do you understand me?”

Had Darius pumped him up into this little Hitler? “I’m not your enemy, Matthew. Why are you treating me like one? After three months together, we were getting close, but then Darius showed up and everything started to change. You were closeted together for hours at a time. Some of the guys wondered if you were cozying up, screwing your brains out.”