“She didn’t give them what they were after, but they had a lot invested. And Felicity was committed. She brought in Bissel and set up for the long haul.”
“He married her for intel?” Peabody queried. “Sucks wide.”
“For intel,” Eve agreed. “And for a stronger cover, for the additional contacts that came from her. She’s still friendly with some of her associates from the Secret Service, and she has former President Foster’s ear, among others. Neither Foster nor the current administration has maintained very friendly relations with the HSO, or vice versa. There’s a lot of resentment, one-upmanship, a lot of secrets and backbiting.”
“I’m following all this well enough, kid,” Feeney put in. “But it doesn’t explain why Bissel and Kade were hit, and Ewing set up.”
“It sure as hell doesn’t. So let’s find out.”
She glanced at Roarke, silently passing him the ball. “The Code Red must factor into it,” he began. “The units were taken out with the Doomsday worm, or a close clone of it. It’s possible, though it pains me, that they’ve infiltrated my security at Securecomp, using Reva as their conduit. The contract came through the Global Intelligence Council, and was heatedly protested by the HSO, and a few other acronyms.”
“HSO would’ve wanted the contract themselves,” McNab speculated. “Privatization of this kind of work put the squeeze on the budget of some of these agencies.”
“There’s that,” Roarke agreed.
“Add that if they had the contract and the fee,” Peabody continued, “they’d also have all pertinent intel on the Code Red in-house. They don’t have to wait to be fed through channels.”
Eve nodded. “Using Reva was a way to feed.”
“Add that since Roarke Industries is considered suspect by some factions . . .” Roarke let that hang in the air a moment, almost as if amused. “The HSO found it expedient to focus on infiltrating and gathering data and intel—whatever came to hand—in order to attempt to build a case against the corporation. For espionage, double-dipping, tax evasion. Some such thing.”
He shrugged it off. He was—since Eve, in any case—a completely legitimate businessman. And if he wasn’t, he had no doubt he’d have gotten around Homeland, just as he’d always done.
“I’ll be looking into security and plugging any potential holes, but at this point it’s a bit like bricking up the hole after the rat’s slipped in to nibble the cheese.”
“You can always lay out more cheese,” Feeney commented.
Roarke smiled a little. “We’re of a mind there.”
“What about the worm itself?” Peabody asked. “If this was an HSO hit, and the units were corrupted, that means the HSO has the worm, or a clone. Wouldn’t they be working on an extermination program and shield themselves instead of . . . Oh.”
“Global espionage isn’t so very different from the corporate sort.” Roarke picked up the pot and topped off his coffee. “If they’re working on spec, or have another organization working on the protection programs, it would pay them to know what we’re up to.”
“And to kill for it. Just another kind of organized crime.” Peabody flushed a little. “Sorry, Free-Ager roots showing. Realistically, I know governments need covert organization to gather intelligence, to help predict terrorist attacks, to help dismantle terrorists and politically fanatic groups. But it’s the fact that they don’t always have to play by the rules that can corrupt the individuals that make up the whole. And that sounded just like my father.”
“It’s okay, She-Body.” McNab gave her knee a squeeze. “I think Free-Agers are hot.”
“If the HSO ordered the hit on Kade and Bissel,” Eve continued, “they may not pay for it in the public courts. But, if they set up Reva Ewing and left her twisting in the wind, they’ll pay for that. She’s a citizen of New York, and that makes her ours. I’m going to speak with the commander, then I’m going to Reva Ewing and make full disclosure, unless ordered otherwise. I believe with her contacts I can work a meet with reps from the HSO. And we’ll play some ball.”
When she’d completed the briefing, she started to walk out with Peabody, then stopped as if just remembering something. “Oh, Feeney, I need just another minute with you. Peabody, go on down. Put in a request with the commander’s office for some time, priority one.”
“I don’t expect to be more than two or three hours at Securecomp,” Roarke told Feeney. “You know where everything is here. Set up however it suits you best. Summerset will be able to answer any questions you may have. I’ll be back to roll up my sleeves as soon as I can. Lieutenant.”
He knew she would wince when he leaned down to kiss her. Which was only one of the reasons he couldn’t resist doing so. He let her close the door behind him, and after giving it one speculative look, walked away.
Inside, Eve rubbed her hands over her face. “I’ve got to ask you for a personal.”
“Okay.”
“This is . . . a little tricky for me.”
“I’m seeing that. We need a sit-down?”
“No. I mean you can. I . . . can’t. Shit.” She paced away, stared hard out of the window. “I don’t know how much you know about when I was a kid, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He knew a great deal, enough that having her bring it up tightened his belly. But his voice stayed even. “All right.”
“There was an HSO field operative in Dallas when . . . during a period when . . . Goddamn it.”