Leaving out John’s role and what he’d told her about Team Nine, she filled Mac in on the attack in Norway and the not-so-coincidentally timed break-in at herapartment. She said that they had a plan to try to catch who was responsible and that the man guarding her door was one of the good guys.
Mac snorted at that.
“What about the e-mail?” Mac asked. “Did you find your brother?”
Brittany was surprised by the sudden well of emotion and tears that filled her eyes. She shook her head.
“Then who sent it?”
“I can’t say. I’m sorry, but when this is all over, I promise I’ll explain everything.”
Mac must have heard the pleading in her voice and didn’t press.
Brittany apologized for not getting in touch before, explaining that she feared her phone and e-mail were compromised.
“Do you have your phone?”
Brittany nodded and retrieved it from the kitchen counter.
Mac pulled out a laptop, hooked it up to the phone, and a few minutes later, after a flurry of keystrokes, shook her head. “It doesn’t look as if it’s been cloned and I don’t see any spyware.”
“Other than yours, you mean?”
Mac smiled. “Hey, it was your idea.”
“I assume that’s how you knew I was back?” Brittany asked.
Her friend nodded. “But that doesn’t mean someone hasn’t been monitoring your calls—all they need is your phone number and some good software. And hacking someone’s e-mail takes about fifteen minutes of watching a video. There are tutorials on this stuff all over the Internet.”
“How reassuring,” Brittany said dryly.
Mac grinned.
“Did you find out anything more about the driver of that car?” she asked.
Mac’s expression changed quickly to one of frustration and annoyance. “Not yet. But I’m still working on it. I can’t believe in this day and age that our government is still using a logbook.” She paused. “Wait. Maybe I can.”
They both laughed.
Mac didn’t stay around for long. After exacting a promise that Brittany would do a better job at staying in touch, she pulled a flip phone from her bag and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“A burner.”
“You keep them in your purse?”
“All the time. I have boatloads of them. Let me know if you need anything. If that cretin out there is any indication, you seem to have plenty of muscle. But you might want to rely on more than the CIA for brains.”
Brittany didn’t have much more faith in their government than Mac did, but she had faith in John, and that was all that mattered.
Twenty-three
Brittany’s heart was pounding as she approached the overpass. She didn’t know whether it was nervousness or excitement. Maybe it was a little of both. It was hard to believe that it had been almost two weeks since she’d driven her car to this exact spot to meet her unknown source.
It seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed. She wasn’t scared like last time. Of course, last time she hadn’t had a small army watching over her and a one-man army lying low in the backseat.
John had insisted on accompanying her in the car. She hadn’t argued; she felt safer with him there. She’d forgotten how scary this place was—not that she was going to bring that up to John. She’d gotten enough of an earful from him about it earlier.
