Over the computer’s speakers, another man’s voice said, “Hello. I’ll be your primary operations coordinator for Sin Nombre Security.” His voice was pitched low, and the rhythm sounded like a monotonous military march.
That must be Theo’s guy, Noah.
Noah continued, “We’ll be lending intelligence and operational support to find your missing primary, Friederikevon Hannover. I have your reports in front of me, but I’d like each one of you to repeat what happened that night, in detail, taking as long as necessary, to ensure we haven’t missed anything.”
Dieter stood, knocking the office chair over behind him. He ran his hand over his short hair and paced.
This was going to take hours.
He couldn’t breathe, knowing that Flicka was out there somewhere,alone.
One of theWelfenlegionguys asked something, but the speaker volume was too low to hear properly.
Noah said, “That’s an affirmative. We will start withJulien Bodilsen.”
Dieter paced behind the desk. Julien was solid. He had been in ARD-10 with him and Wulf. There was no way Julien was involved with the Grimaldis or Quentin Sault, and Julien would never allow anyone to get close toWulfram and Rae. He wouldn’t take a bribe or betray anyone.
Dieter leaned over to the microphone. “Theo? Let’s move on. Julien is as loyal as they come. It’s not him.”
As Dieter was saying that and watching the monitor, Julien licked his lips.
Lip-licking was an enormous red flag for deception. It was a huge, snapping, waving scarlet banner that wrapped around the entire room. It meant theguy was nervous as hell and probably lying his ass off.
Dieter fell into the chair heavily. It creaked under him. “Never mind. Continue with Julien Bodilsen.”
Lip-licking could also be due to the fact that Julien Bodilsen currently resided in the middle of the damn Sonoran Desert, where the relative humidity was absolute zero, give or take. Dieter smeared some more camphor goop on his lips ashe peered at the monitor. The fumes stung his dry nose.
Even though Julien had moved to the front of theWelfenlegionroom and his face filled the huge computer screen, Dieter squinted at him.
Watching on the computer monitor was a poor substitute for being in the same room with a person. When he was sitting next to people at the Silver Horseshoe poker tables, he swore he could feel the vibrationsof nerves or excitement rolling off their skin. His own flesh tingled when they were so earnestly bluffing or concealing their joy at the straight flush in their hands.
Now?
Nothing.
Dieter couldn’tfeelthem through the monitor. It was like trying tosmelldeceit.
Hell, he could smell fear hormones better than he could see their effects over a low-res webcam. Fear had a sour smell. When adrenalinekicks in and the body leaps into fight-or-flight mode, the skin secretes slippery oils in sweat to help squirm out of a pursuer’s grasp, and sugar metabolism kicks into high gear for a burst of energy. He had attacked men during covert ops and smelled the tang of their terror and aggression as he fought them hand-to-hand and took them down.
Now?Nothing.Electrified dust burned in the back ofthe monitor.
On the computer screen, Julien leaned toward one side, shifting in his seat.
Might be nerves because he had been bought by the Grimaldi operation.
Might be a sore ass from squats and running.
Dieter couldn’t tell.
But he knew that Julien never skipped leg day.
And that was a totally useless piece of information.
Dieter glared at the screen, his fists clenching.
Julien gavehis account of being on duty at Wulf and Rae’s wedding that night, but he had been pinned to Wulf all night. He hadn’t noticed Flicka after the Alexandre Grimaldi incident except for a quick good-bye when Wulf and Rae retired for the night. At that point, Julien left with Wulf and Rae, while Flicka stayed to close the party down in the wee hours.
Julien licked his lips twice more during the recitation.
