“I called the power company a few hours ago for an update. When I asked them how much longer they thought it would be out, they had no idea. They said this entire section of the grid was down and it wasn’t from the weather. They said it was a network problem.”
“Like a computer network?” I asked. Sam nodded.
Vero locked eyes with me. “Can the simulator be controlled remotely, from a computer somewhere else?” she asked Sam.
“Sure, if it’s accessible through a network and runs on a program.”
“Then it can be hacked.” I stepped out from Nick’s arm. This entire night had been planned. The power outage, the fire… there was no way this had all been a coincidence. These events must have beencoordinated by someone who knew what was happening on this tower tonight. Cam had alerted Joey thatEasyCleanwould be here, but I was certain Feliks was pulling the strings.
“You think Feliks was behind this?” Sam asked them.
“Not unless he hacked us from the air,” Nick said. “That phone call I got earlier tonight… the one I didn’t answer,” he said, casting me a brief but meaningful look, “it was our task force contact at the FBI. She says Zhirov boarded a private jet just before midnight. The feds think he’s headed to Brazil.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “If he has the capability to access those networks remotely, he could have done it from anywhere.”
“Or someone could have done it for him,” Joey said. Nick and Joey exchanged a long look, probably coming to the same conclusion Vero and I had. With the right resources, Cameron could have shut down the power and started the fire himself.
“But who was the target?” Wade asked. “Joey? Or Stu?”
Every eye on the roof turned to Joey. Feliks had broken out of jail for one reason only—to eliminateEasyClean. Once Feliks learnedEasyCleanwas alive and would be here tonight, he must have realized his mistake and come up with a plan to handle the problem once and for all.
But had the fire been the weapon, or had it been the perfect distraction?
If all the police were at the tower trying to put out the fire, and if the security barriers were cleared for emergency vehicles to enter and leave, it would have been easy for Feliks’s men to slip in and out unnoticed.
Roddy frowned. “I should go check on Stu,” he said, turning for the stairs.
“Don’t bother,” Joey said, crushing out his cigarette. “If Feliks had anything to do with that fire, Stuart Kirby is already dead.”
CHAPTER 37
Three hours later, after the EMTs had checked us over and Vero and I had given our statements, we stood at the edge of the parking lot in our blankets, our clothes still damp with sweat and soot as we watched the rest of the academy students load their luggage into two waiting charter buses. After the fire, Commander Ortega had ended the lockdown and ordered that everyone be sent home. Feliks had been sighted that morning at an airstrip near São Paulo, Brazil, and when Roddy had returned to the classroom where he had left Stu, all he’d found was an empty pair of handcuffs. Nick and his commander had agreed it would be best to shut the academy down early to let the staff debrief and clean up after the long night.
Roddy and Ty stood beside the charter bus doors, issuing certificates of completion to each student as they boarded. Vero and I looked down at the ones Roddy had presented to us from the top of his pile. The certificates were all generic, the recipients’ names left blank. In all the chaos over the last twelve hours, the staff hadn’t had time to worry about preparing for the final ceremony. The only things special about Vero’s and mine were the two first-place ribbons taped to the corners.
“Too bad we all couldn’t stay for graduation,” Vero said, tracing the satin ribbon on her certificate with a sigh. “Sure would have been nice to rub it in Joey’s face.”
“Rub what in my face?” Joey appeared beside her, glaring at herunder two sooty eyebrows. It had taken him an hour this morning to convince her to hand over his gun. She’d only relinquished it after he’d threatened to handcuff her and shut her in the back of a patrol car.
“Finlay and I won,” Vero gloated. “We had the most points of any team. Bet you regret betting against us now.”
“You didn’t win,” Joey groused. “The tallies closed early. Those numbers don’t count.”
Nick patted Joey’s shoulder with a pitying smile. “As the program director, I certified the tally. We’ll settle up later at the bar.”
Mrs. Haggerty shambled across the parking lot toward us, waving her certificate. Her grandson gave chase, calling after her. “What’s this business with these awards?” she demanded, shaking her paper at Nick. “Why aren’t there any names on them? How will we know who won?”
“It’s fine, Grandma,” her grandson said, trying to coax her back on the bus.
“No, it’s not!” she said sharply. “And don’t give me any of this ‘everyone’s a winner’ crap. When I was your age, we had real competitions. There were winners and losers, and nobody complained when they didn’t get a prize.”
Vero gave Joey a pointed look.
“Actually,” I said, holding out my certificate. “I think you might have gotten mine by mistake, Mrs. Haggerty.” She pushed up the frames of her glasses as she took it, studying the satin ribbon with a satisfied nod. Vero gasped in protest as I handed her certificate to Mrs. Haggerty’s grandson, swapping it for his unadorned one.
“I was under the impression we came in second place,” he said, politely trying to give it back.
“Extra points were awarded to your grandmother this morning,” I insisted.
