“Same here.”
They stayed in each other’s arms for a minute, then Carly reluctantly drew back. “Let’s finish our other discussion before we forget where we were, okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Let’s see about dinner while we talk.”
* * *
Over lasagna and cauliflower florets, courtesy of Niall’s freezer, and a bottle of Italian Chianti from a large wine rack in the kitchen pantry, Carly said, “Earlier you brought up an organization that might have something against you.” She smiled reassuringly. “Deep background, you have my word.”
He considered this for a moment. “The New World Militia, an anarchist paramilitary organization,” he said finally. “They believed that any government—federal, state, or local—was inherently bad and should be overthrown. They were fanatically dedicated to bringing that about in this country. A while back my sister and the man who’s now her husband were instrumental in uncovering a link between them, a political action committee called NOANC founded by a man named Michael Vishenko, and the Russian Mafia.”
“Vishenko. I know that name.”
“I’m sure you do. Michael Vishenko is Aleksandrov Vishenko’s nephew. The uncle was initially one of the defendants in the human trafficking conspiracy case you covered.”
Carly’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes, but I’ve heard the name Michael Vishenko, too. Isn’t he in prison for murder and bribery? And wasn’t his Political Action Committee—”
“NOANC.”
“Right, NOANC.” She took a sip of wine. “Wasn’t that exposed as a front funneling money to corrupt politicians?”
“Give the lady a gold star.”
“Nothing special about me knowing that,” she pointed out. “It was a huge political scandal. I’d just moved from war correspondent to covering Capitol Hill, so of course I remember. But how does the New World Militia come into it?”
“That domestic terrorist organization actually predates NOANC and Michael Vishenko. Long story short, the New World Militia had been dismantled at one point, and the federal agencies responsible for bringing it down thought it had been destroyed. But Michael Vishenko revived it, as a way to fund his PAC so NOANC could fly under the radar of the Federal Election Committee.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, but the problem was, no one realized that when the New World Militia was brought back to life, its members were true believers in the cause it espoused. Several splinter groups formed, including one in Denver. The bomb that exploded outside that bookstore five years ago...”
She caught her breath. “The New World Militia? They set off the bomb that almost killed you?”
Chapter 12
Shane nodded. “They were trying to make a political statement, but it backfired on them. And no, I wasn’t able to help in the investigation. I don’t even remember actually saving that woman. The last thing I remember is shopping with my sister the day after Christmas, heading for the bookstore and seeing the woman walking in a little ahead of us. Everything else is a blank—Keira had to tell me what I did beyond that point. But after all the media hype about me, several people came forward with what they knew about the New World Militia, saying I’d inspired them to have the courage to speak up. The bomber and many in his splinter group were identified, arrested, tried and convicted.”
“So that organization—or at least some of its members—holds you responsible.”
“Yeah, but it was five years ago. And since then the agency—you know the one I’m talking about, right?” Carly nodded. “The agency has quietly put most of the New World Militia members out of commission permanently.”
“Most, but not all.”
“No,” he agreed. “Not all.” Finished with dinner, he rose from the table, carrying his plate and utensils to the sink. Carly hurriedly ate the last bite of her lasagna—surprisingly good, given that it had come out of the freezer—and brought her own plate to the sink. Shane took it from her, saying, “I’ve got this. Why don’t you top off our wineglasses and take them into the living room? I’ll just be a minute.”