Aftermath Page 13

  “We believe Devraiz provided the toxin that you encountered at the museum,” he continued. “Yesterday, thanks to identification from one of Kaufmann’s recovered victims, the FBI uncovered their traitor.”

  “And as far as Tonelli knows, the CIA piece fell apart when Kerberos headquarters was dismantled,” Siobahn finished. “All known Kerberos employees were either arrested, or if their role had been determined to be innocent, they were moved to other departments.” She shrugged. “Since my CIA contacts aren’t talking to me, and Tonelli doesn’t have current info, there could still be someone loose over there.”

  Siobahn started a new list on the whiteboard titled Unanswered Questions. “First,” she said as she wrote, “with Kaufmann dead, who’s running the South Dakota compound? Second, who sent the assassin after me?”

  “Third, who arranged for Devraiz’s escape?” Toby added.

  “And was it Devraiz or someone else who released the gas into the museum?” Faith said, as she entered the room.

  Siobahn sighed. “I hope it’s just one person. Otherwise, we might never get this situation under control.” She stepped back and glared at the whiteboard.

  “I don’t recall putting you in charge of resolving anything.” Ryker’s voice held an edge Siobahn had never heard before.

  “Er…” Damn the man, did he have to always sneak up on her?

  “Sir! I didn’t hear you come in, sir.”

  A faint smile played at the edges of Ryker’s mouth. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Now, Toby and Faith, if you don’t mind, I need to have a few words in private with Ms. Murphy.”

  Faith shot Siobahn a sympathetic smile as she left. Toby squared his shoulders and said, “Sir—”

  “At ease, Andrews. I’m not here to court martial Ms. Murphy. I just need to talk to her.”

  Toby cleared his throat and glanced at Siobahn out of the corner of his eye. She gave him a reassuring smile. “Ah, okay, sir. I’ll be right outside.”

  “Shut the door on your way out.”

  Ryker didn’t speak once the door had closed behind Toby. He was too busy drinking in the sight of Siobahn. Her ivory skin still had an unnaturally pale cast, but her breathing was easy and the redness around her eyes had vanished.

  Christ, but she’d scared him. Being smaller than both him and McCormick, the toxic gas had taken a much stronger toll on Siobahn. She’d come very close to dying.

  He’d never forget the sight of her face contorted in pain as all her muscles spasmed, or forget the terror he’d felt when his own hand had cramped, refusing to obey his command to grab her and drag her to safety.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, the words coming out as a hoarse whisper.

  Her eyes widened. She gasped and hurried over to him. “What happened to your voice?” She grabbed his face between her hands and searched his eyes. “Are you okay? Should you be out of bed?”

  Cursing, Ryker realized that the huskiness of his voice had given her the wrong impression. He cut off the rest of her questions with a kiss. Damn, but he’d missed the taste of her. Missed her. Waking up alone in bed the past couple of days had been sheer hell. He’d already become addicted to having Siobahn warm and soft in his arms. But she’d still been recovering in the hospital and the SSU had been called upon to help catch Devraiz, so he hadn’t been able to stay with her.

  “Does this mean you’re okay?” Siobahn said with a shaky laugh when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.

  “Yes. I’m fine. My voice is just strained from too many hours spent talking before I’d fully recovered.”

  Siobahn frowned. Unable to help himself, Ryker smoothed the furrows between her brows with his thumb. “Really, I’m in good health. Just tired and lonely from missing you.”

  Siobahn melted against him. Ryker rested his chin on the top of her head and enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her. Then he cleared his throat and directed his mind back to business. “I’m noticing a pattern here, Ms. Murphy,” he chided, setting her away from him. “Once again you didn’t answer my question.”

  Her frown morphed into a cheeky smile. “I’m doing well, thank you. But I don’t suppose that’s the real reason you came calling.”

  “No.” He glanced over at the whiteboard and sighed. “You do realize that there are dozens of qualified professionals who are working diligently to make certain the last of Jamieson’s co-conspirators and sympathizers are rounded up?”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I have trouble letting go of an investigation once I start.”

  “Technically, you’re not authorized to know even half of what I heard you discussing before I showed up.” He held up a hand when she started to interrupt.

  “No, I don’t care about that. What I do care about is keeping you safe, Siobahn.” She had no idea to what lengths he’d go to protect her. He was only just coming to terms himself with how much she meant to him.

  She nodded toward the whiteboard. “Have you reached any conclusions about who we’re missing?” she asked.

  “Your instincts are right. I believe that in order for Kerberos to stay hidden for so long, Jamieson must have had powerful help. Help from someone with access to funding. Someone powerful, yet able to work behind the scenes.”

  Siobahn walked over until she stood directly in front of the whiteboard. Ryker moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, needing to touch her to reassure himself she really was alive.

  “No one else at the White House was connected to Kerberos other than President MacAdam?”

  Ryker hesitated. Giving her too much knowledge placed her in danger. But letting her play a small part in the ending would hopefully satisfy her curiosity. “MacAdam did have help among his staff. People who coordinated his calls with Jamieson and so forth. Those people have been taken into custody.”

  “Then who do you suspect?”

  “Only a few people know the truth of why MacAdam resigned. Even Congress wasn’t briefed about the anniversary demonstration, although a few members—those involved in orchestrating his resignation or who were directly connected to the missing men—learned the truth. For the most part, Congress only knows about Kaufmann’s lab and the existence of Kerberos. Not the connection to MacAdam. But you figured it out.” He turned her so that she faced him. “How?”

  She gave a wry twist of her lips. “This is going to sound totally vain, but I knew someone very powerful had to be involved with the disappearance of the military personnel when my contacts suddenly refused to talk to me.”

  He couldn’t help his smile. “No, that makes perfect sense. I can understand why men would trip over themselves in a rush to spill their secrets to you.”

  “Why Ryker, is that a compliment?”

  “You tell me.”

  Siobahn rolled her eyes. “Anyway, right after MacAdam’s death, suddenly my contacts were all chatty again. Not that they had much to add regarding the missing personnel. Still, it didn’t take much to come to the conclusion that they were no longer afraid of reprisal from the White House if they spoke to me.”

  She shrugged. “Plus, I remembered something MacAdam had said in a press conference months ago. Hinting that the United States would soon show the world its might and that it was not a country that let wrongs go unpunished. Then, when his resignation speech included a comment about his profound grief over his son’s death… Well, I put two and two together.”

  Ryker nodded. “And reached the correct conclusion.”

  The approval in his eyes warmed her.

  “We caught Captain Devraiz, by the way,” Ryker added. “He made the mistake of sneaking in to his girlfriend’s house, where a joint team from the DOD and the SSU was waiting for him. He hasn’t yet confessed, though we expect it won’t take long.”

  Siobahn added a few notes to the whiteboard. “Okay. That ties up the DOD’s end, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She crossed DOD off her list. “And you said that the White House piece h
as also been resolved.” She drew an X through the White House. “We already knew that the FBI traitor had been uncovered. So that leaves the CIA.”

  “Myron Zybriesky, the former Kerberos employee who ordered the assassin to attack you, was found dead this morning. Shot in the head.”

  Siobahn swiveled to face him. “Shot? Isn’t that pretty blatant for a cover-up?”

  Ryker shook his head. “Think about it. All the skilled players are either in custody or dead. They’re the ones who knew how to find assassins to do the dirty work or could cover their own tracks via poisons and gasses. But with them gone, who does that leave?”

  Siobahn’s lips pursed in thought. Ryker wanted to kiss her until those lips parted and let him in, but even more, he needed her to reach the same conclusion he had.

  “Take away the foot soldiers and you’re left with the general,” Siobahn mused. “Or, in this case, someone in power who doesn’t have much personal experience with violence.” She tilted her head to the side. “But I’m still not seeing it.”

  Ryker moved up to the whiteboard, grabbed an extra pen, and drew one more box. Then he wrote a single word in the box.

  “Congress? But why would anyone trust a congressmen with such a big secret?”

  “It goes back to the money. Kaufmann’s program had its origin in the Vietnam War. A man named Dr. Nevsky was involved in creating biochemical agents that could be used against the enemy. Soldiers tasked with putting one of his designer chemicals, called Agent Styx, into the water of strategic targets developed a series of interesting side effects. They needed less sleep and barely responded to pain. The military decided these were characteristics they wanted to encourage. They gave Nevsky the go-ahead to experiment with giving our soldiers controlled doses of Agent Styx, mixed with other drugs so that it would no longer be lethal. Unfortunately, one of the negative side effects of this drug regimen was uncontrollable rage.”

  Siobahn made a sound of surprise.

  “Yes. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? After the war, Dr. Nevsky was contracted by both the DOD and the CIA to continue his experiments into creating super soldiers, spies and assassins. Despite the growing side effects—massive organ shut down resulting in death being the worst—Nevsky’s program received annual funding. Nevsky died a little over two years ago when he triggered his lab’s self-destruct mechanism, burning the facility to the ground. Several months later, his assistant Dr. Kaufmann had a similar program up and running.”

  “Are you suggesting that someone in Congress knew about Nevsky’s program, earmarked funds specifically for his research, then after Nevsky’s death funneled money to Kaufmann via Kerberos?”

  “Yes. Hidden under some innocuous name, no doubt. But that’s what I suspect.”

  “So, how did this mysterious member of Congress find out?”

  “The war. Several current senators and representatives served in Vietnam. Any one of them might have stumbled across soldiers under the influence of Agent Styx and done a bit of investigating.”

  Siobahn gave him a probing look. “You had a run-in with such soldiers yourself, didn’t you?”

  Ryker stared at the ceiling. There was that amazing insight of hers. She’d nailed it, when so many others never suspected what horrors his team had witnessed.

  He thought back to a burned village, dead bodies in poses that indicated unimaginable agony, and the sight of chemically enraged American soldiers tearing one another apart for lack of any other living targets. “Yes. It was horrifying. The effect of the drugs on our soldiers was inhuman. Worse, their superiors knew the effects and ignored them.”

  “Meaning that whoever has been backing this research all along likely knows about the negative side effects and just doesn’t care.”

  “Correct.”

  “This is all very nice, but it’s all just speculation. Do you have any proof?” Siobahn demanded.

  “Yes, from Mark Tonelli. One of the tasks Jamieson gave him was to search certain lists of military and law enforcement personnel and choose those that met Kaufmann’s criteria. One of the requirements, which Tonelli found odd, was that the men could not live or work in a particular state. That only made sense if a senator didn’t want Kaufmann culling from his or her own constituents.”

  “Senator, because a representative would have forbidden picking victims from his or her district.”

  “Correct.”

  “Okay, that narrows it down. But you have one person in mind, don’t you?”

  Ryker nodded.

  “Why?”

  “The timing of the attack at your house. Why then? Why not during your investigation leading up to your article?”

  “Yeah, that bothered me, too.”

  “I believe the trigger was your appearance at the Capitol. Until then, you’d been lost in the background as the key players struggled to either hide their involvement, or run. But someone saw you that day and realized you might be dangerous.” In his mind, he pictured Siobahn hurrying through the group of men who’d just exited the closed hearing. For a while, that had thrown him off.

  He turned to face her. “I believe the guilty party is the man who witnessed our encounter on the stairs, then warned me that you posed a threat.”

  Her mouth fell open. “No. Senator Wallace?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ryker watched as Siobahn dropped into the wheeled desk chair, setting it rocking. “But…why?” she asked. “He’s a patriot. An old friend of my father’s. I grew up thinking of him as part of the family.”

  “Jamieson also claimed to be a patriot,” Ryker reminded her. “His vision of what was acceptable in order to protect our country just happened to fall outside legal and moral purviews. And Wallace served in-country during Vietnam. I remember someone pointing him out while I was visiting a friend in the hospital in Saigon. At the time, I thought it odd to see a military commander surrounded by men in lab coats rather than soldiers in uniform.”

  Siobahn looked skeptical.

  “Yes, I know. All of this is entirely circumstantial evidence. It most definitely won’t hold up in court. Even if we can prove that Wallace knew about and supported the program from the beginning, he can always claim a change of heart or that he honestly believed the program had been shut down.” Ryker lifted one shoulder in a partial shrug. “It would be his word against ours. Unless we can obtain proof.”

  Siobahn ran a hand over her eyes, then sighed. “Uncle Sheldon did ask me a lot of questions after my article was released. Told me that while the disappearance of the men was a matter of grave concern to the United States government, it was far too dangerous for a pretty little thing like me to get involved with.” She snorted. “As if he didn’t know that I’ve been to most of the war zones of the world.”

  She leaned back in her chair, studying the whiteboard with a bitter disillusionment Ryker hated to see on her face. “How are we going to prove his involvement?” she asked sharply, the edge of anger in her voice making Ryker wish he could have shielded her from this pain. And although he desperately wanted to hold her again, he knew she wouldn’t welcome his comfort just yet.

  “If he’s the one who shot the CIA’s Myron Zybriesky, then it’s a sign that the senator is scrambling to cover his tracks. It’s likely that Wallace made mistakes and the investigation into Zybriesky’s death will uncover incriminating evidence. In the meantime, the FBI is having him followed, but so far he’s only moved between the Capitol and his home.”

  “Hoping that the sanctity of his office will protect him?” Siobahn scoffed. “It didn’t protect MacAdam.”

  Technically, MacAdam hadn’t been arrested in his office, but in a media room in the lower level of the White House where the President had settled in to watch a live stream video of Kerberos’s forces attacking the South Pacific island of Washraiti in the tiny nation of Salaqut. Siobahn’s clever mind had figured out much of the big picture, but Ryker couldn’t break his oath and tell her the missing detail
s. On President Cornelison’s orders, the rest of the world had to believe that MacAdam had resigned of his own free will. Not because he’d been charged with treason.

  “So how are you going to prove that Wallace has been involved all along?”

  Ryker reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small ivory linen envelope. He tossed it to Siobahn.

  She glanced down, then shot him a repressive frown. “Been going through my mail, Ryker? Shame on you.”

  He shrugged. “We vetted it for biochemical toxins.”

  She shot him a startled glance, then nodded. “Ah. Okay.” After a moment’s hesitation, she slid the invitation out of the envelope and quickly scanned it.

  “Seriously?” Siobahn tilted her head to one side and gave him a look under raised brows. “You want me to go to lunch with Uncle Sheldon? Let me guess, you’re going to set me up with a wire and then—what? Hope he decides to do the villain-confesses-all routine? Or that he tries to kill me?”

  “Actually, I think if he wanted you dead, he could arrange that. I suspect he’s going to try and use you as a hostage to negotiate his escape.”

  Her face closed down. “And you want me to do this?”

  “No. I don’t want you anywhere near Wallace.” Ryker heard the vehemence in his voice and tried to tone it down, but the flare of triumph in Siobahn’s eyes made him continue uncensored. “If I’m right, Senator Wallace is feeling cornered. He’s trying to eliminate anyone who might implicate him. That makes him extremely dangerous. I don’t even want you in the same city as him.”

  She gave him a brilliant smile and it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss her. “But I don’t know that we have another choice. Without evidence, we can’t stop him if he decides to run. I suspect the only reason he hasn’t already boarded a private plane is because either he knows we have no evidence, or he’s desperate to finish covering his tracks and has run out of people to do the dirty work for him.”