Chapter 27
Kelly
“I’ll be right back.” Hunt drives his Ford to the walkway and shoves the Iranian into the back seat.
Lifting my prisoner’s wrists to the grab handle, he zip-ties them securely in place. Once we’re on the road, I turn in my chair while the driver flicks his eyes to the rearview mirror.
“We know about the ricin, Ahmad. If you talk now, you might avoid Guantanamo Bay.”
Sweat beads on the chemist’s forehead as he trembles. His frantic gaze darts to mine, pleading. “I have family back home. They will be killed if I say anything. Do what you will. You will learn nothing from me. Soon, it will not matter.”
Oh God, we’re out of time.I sense my heart rate rising. “Tell us.”
“You will find out.” A spark of amusement enters his eyes as a slow, reptilian smile spreads across his lips.
“Many will die, including us.” Lowering his chin, the would-be martyr hangs his head.
“Dammit.” Flesh slaps against leather as the Fed bangs his palm on the outside edge of the steering wheel.
Exhaling, he says into the air. “Phone Slate.”
I dig for my cell, only to realize he’s not talking to me. Instead, Bluetooth picks up and makes the call.
“Talk.” Seconds later, a baritone voice shoots to my spine, delivering shivers throughout my nervous system.
Scott matches the man’s fast pace. “Iranian chemists in the US. Ricin. Huge cluster-fuck.”
Deeper and more dangerous, Slate’s speech slows as it crackles through the speaker. “Iran’s president is in Washington—being treated like royalty.”
“That’s why I’m calling you instead of the friggin’ FBI.” Eyes on the road, my G-man’s Adam’s apple bobs.
Wow, Hunter trusts this shadow network more than his own? How deep does this rot go?
While my heart races, the commander on the other side of the line remains impassive. “I’ve got a team standing by. Say the word, and we’ll be there.”
“Babe?” Scott raises his brows at me.
Once I nod, he says, “Do it.”
After they hang up, my mind buzzes with implications. It takes a moment for me to form a coherent question. “Who’s footing the bill for all this?”
“If I had to guess, the billionaire, Grayson Patten, the security firm’s owner.” His dark eyes flick to me, shadowed with something I can’t quite name—guilt? Regret? “Sorry I got you into this mess.”
Biting my lower lip, I place my hand on his muscled thigh. “If I hadn’t stuck my head in the sand, we wouldn’t be on the cusp of a mass casualty event.”
We drive for a couple of miles. Then, I remember. I need to call Gina. We have another prisoner for her.
After a quick explanation, she curses. “Keep this up, and there won’t be any space for the local drunks.”
“Guess they’ll have to dry up on their own couches this week. Bye. See you in a few.” I hang up to the beat ofricin, ricin, ricin.The poison could be used in so many ways. How can a few individuals possibly stop it?
All of a sudden, my chest tightens as if clamped inside a human-sized vice. Oh my God—my daughter.
My brother answers his phone halfway through the first ring. “Wazzup, sis?”
“We think the Iranians have amassed a huge quantity of ricin. You and Mack need to get someplace safe.” After I say it, I realize how it’s asking the impossible.
His breath hitches, sharp and unsteady. “How soon?”
