Gray was never an alarmist, which meant this was really bad. “I’m on my way.”
Mike grabbed his arm. “What is it?”
“Major cyber-attack on the oil companies. I’ve got to help Gray back at Federal Plaza.” He ran his hands through his hair, standing it on end. “What are the odds?”
“I had no idea COE had the expertise or the willingness to go in this direction.”
“If it’s them. This sounds like a very sophisticated attack. Hey, if they have a professional assassin, why not a professional hacker? Gray and I have to try and shu
t it down.”
She shooed him with her hand. “Go. I’ll stay here and handle the scene.”
He lightly touched his palm to her bruised cheek. “Thank you.”
“Nicholas?”
He turned at the front door. “What?”
“Be careful, okay? Whoever did this already killed three of our people. I’d be really pissed if you got yourself hurt. Again.”
He flashed her a smile. “Agent Caine. Worried about me?”
“Yes, lamebrain, and I’m serious.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “This isn’t good.”
He nodded. “I know it’s not. I’ll take a care. You as well, understand?”
14
PAWN TO C6
Brooklyn
Vanessa froze, but her brain didn’t. She must have accidently turned off the mute when she’d shoved the phone into the soap. Had Matthew heard it, too? He was still kissing her, and now he was sucking on her ear, his hand rubbing her breast.
Distract him.
Her hand fitted over him again, caressing.
Too late, the phone dinged again. This time it signaled an incoming text.
Matthew slowly raised his head and looked down at her.
Should she kill him? She could kick him in the groin, send him to his knees, grab him and choke him or break his neck. Or grab his head and smash him into the porcelain tub. No gun, that was in her bag in the bedroom.
Her knee came up at the same moment Matthew lunged. He went for the soap, she went for his balls. He managed to turn in time and her knee struck his thigh. He grabbed her leg and jerked up, throwing her off balance, and she fell backward, three steps, into the shower. He planted his foot on her neck, grabbed the bar of soap.
“What is this?”
She tried to push off his foot, but he only pressed down harder. She couldn’t breathe.
“Looks like a bar of soap, but I don’t think it’s just any bar of soap—maybe it’s magic soap. It rings. Isn’t that amazing, Vanessa? Ringing soap.”
He pried the phone from the soap, wiped off the screen. He looked down at her, and she jerked at his foot to get it off her neck. “Can’t breathe, Vanessa?”
He pulled his Beretta out of its holster on the back of his jeans, lifted his boot off her neck. “Who have you been talking to, Vanessa?”
Her throat was on fire. She whispered, “Not mine.” She didn’t know if she’d gotten the words out. She rubbed her throat as she stared at the muzzle of the Beretta. She didn’t move.