this wasn’t the same confident woman. Not once could he recall ever seeing her shed a tear. She was as tough and capable as they come. Or had been.
Nora recognized the look. She’d seen it for the first time when she was eleven. As she stood by her mother’s side, a graying doctor looked down at her trusting, yet frightened face, and then to her mother, who nodded it was okay. That nice doctor with a wonderful bedside manner went on to deliver news that shattered a perfectly happy family’s life. Her father wasn’t expected to survive his massive heart attack. That same gaze was now in a friend’s eyes.
Duncan’s oversized hand withdrew a stack of papers from his leather briefcase and laid them in a neat pile in front of him.
“Erica Janway was murdered at her home in Annapolis,” he began. Nora’s eyes glazed over but no tears fell down her cheeks this time.
“How?” she asked calmly.
Duncan understood that she and Janway were close. He felt compelled not to coddle her in any way.
“Single shot through the heart.”
Nora stored the image in her mind. She prayed she’d get close enough to those responsible. Someone was going to answer for her friend’s death. “Please continue,” she advised.
Duncan sifted through the stack of papers, pulling out a section. He handed copies to Nora and Alex. “I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what the hell Janway was up to. The package she sent you may be a bunch of disjointed notes, but within them is some eye-catching stuff. The names, they’re key as well. Some I recognize as dealers on the black market. I’ve got feelers out, trying to get some background. I feel certain we can take the mystery out of one name. ‘Champion.’ Given the arena we’re operating in, I’d say that’s your current boss, Nora, and”—he locked eyes with Alex—“your old boss, mi amigo: George Champion. In case you haven’t been keeping up, he’s now director of the National Clandestine Service. The other names, unless something rattles my memory, are a complete and utter mystery to me. Just names on a page at the moment.”
Alex stood to go make a drink. “In that case, let’s discuss tomorrow.”
Nora was the only one surprised by the subject. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Alex made rum and Cokes for himself and Duncan, having been waved off by Nora. “Before we go any further, we’re going to discover if your concerns have merit or whether we can just drop you off at Langley. So, we have to prep.”
Nora felt part of this was payback. She had failed to believe in him years before, and it proved costly for them. “Would you mind telling me what you have in mind?”
Alex smiled. “Not at all. It’ll essentially be your ass on the line.”
CHAPTER 9
Seven heavily armed men were a bit much for what was supposed to be a simple business transaction. Perhaps they were being cautious or feeling nervous. The briefcase Dmitri Nevsky carried did, after all, contain a large sum of money. More money than any of the seven men had ever seen in their lives.
Nevsky immediately sized up two of the seven, since they were the ones to greet him and his two-man entourage at the warehouse door of the TTI trading company. The two men had the smell of cheap alcohol and outdated cologne. Their clothes were nothing fancy, worn more than once a week, Nevsky surmised. Instead of the finer things in life, their money was spent on the tools that no doubt garnered them respect in the circles in which they traveled. Both men proudly flashed their guns as if they were holding onto their private parts. One carried a Heckler & Koch automatic. To a less-seasoned man, it would make a statement. Nevsky merely made note of it, as he did of the other man’s Uzi. He had little doubt the weapons had been fired at human flesh just to make a stupid point.
Once inside the warehouse, two additional armed guards met Nevsky and his men. They joined the parade that eventually led them to an
Nora recognized the look. She’d seen it for the first time when she was eleven. As she stood by her mother’s side, a graying doctor looked down at her trusting, yet frightened face, and then to her mother, who nodded it was okay. That nice doctor with a wonderful bedside manner went on to deliver news that shattered a perfectly happy family’s life. Her father wasn’t expected to survive his massive heart attack. That same gaze was now in a friend’s eyes.
Duncan’s oversized hand withdrew a stack of papers from his leather briefcase and laid them in a neat pile in front of him.
“Erica Janway was murdered at her home in Annapolis,” he began. Nora’s eyes glazed over but no tears fell down her cheeks this time.
“How?” she asked calmly.
Duncan understood that she and Janway were close. He felt compelled not to coddle her in any way.
“Single shot through the heart.”
Nora stored the image in her mind. She prayed she’d get close enough to those responsible. Someone was going to answer for her friend’s death. “Please continue,” she advised.
Duncan sifted through the stack of papers, pulling out a section. He handed copies to Nora and Alex. “I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what the hell Janway was up to. The package she sent you may be a bunch of disjointed notes, but within them is some eye-catching stuff. The names, they’re key as well. Some I recognize as dealers on the black market. I’ve got feelers out, trying to get some background. I feel certain we can take the mystery out of one name. ‘Champion.’ Given the arena we’re operating in, I’d say that’s your current boss, Nora, and”—he locked eyes with Alex—“your old boss, mi amigo: George Champion. In case you haven’t been keeping up, he’s now director of the National Clandestine Service. The other names, unless something rattles my memory, are a complete and utter mystery to me. Just names on a page at the moment.”
Alex stood to go make a drink. “In that case, let’s discuss tomorrow.”
Nora was the only one surprised by the subject. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” Alex made rum and Cokes for himself and Duncan, having been waved off by Nora. “Before we go any further, we’re going to discover if your concerns have merit or whether we can just drop you off at Langley. So, we have to prep.”
Nora felt part of this was payback. She had failed to believe in him years before, and it proved costly for them. “Would you mind telling me what you have in mind?”
Alex smiled. “Not at all. It’ll essentially be your ass on the line.”
CHAPTER 9
Seven heavily armed men were a bit much for what was supposed to be a simple business transaction. Perhaps they were being cautious or feeling nervous. The briefcase Dmitri Nevsky carried did, after all, contain a large sum of money. More money than any of the seven men had ever seen in their lives.
Nevsky immediately sized up two of the seven, since they were the ones to greet him and his two-man entourage at the warehouse door of the TTI trading company. The two men had the smell of cheap alcohol and outdated cologne. Their clothes were nothing fancy, worn more than once a week, Nevsky surmised. Instead of the finer things in life, their money was spent on the tools that no doubt garnered them respect in the circles in which they traveled. Both men proudly flashed their guns as if they were holding onto their private parts. One carried a Heckler & Koch automatic. To a less-seasoned man, it would make a statement. Nevsky merely made note of it, as he did of the other man’s Uzi. He had little doubt the weapons had been fired at human flesh just to make a stupid point.
Once inside the warehouse, two additional armed guards met Nevsky and his men. They joined the parade that eventually led them to an
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