“Probably nothing we don’t already know,” Will said with a shrug. “All I care about is what she has on us and the Illuminati.”
“Well, I have to give the gal credit—she’s good. Had pretty decent passwords,” Finn said, dropping his feet back to the floor and leaning in to type on his laptop. “Actually took me about twenty minutes to crack one of them.”
“And the others?” Will prompted.
Finn gave him thatlookagain. “Seriously, brah? It’s me you’re talkin’ to. I said she wasgood. But, alas, she is a mere mortal after all . . .”
Will heaved a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “Finn. The data?”
“Sorry, boss-man. Nothing sent out via email. She contacted a few colleagues, making some vague inquiries, but didn’t mention anything specific about what she had. I guess it’s always possible that she sent something via snail mail, but I didn’t find any transactions at USPS outlets on her bank or credit cards. Could’ve paid cash, but, seriously, do people still do that?”
“When was the package delivered?” Will asked. “Is it possible she hasn’t gone through it yet? Is she just taking it straight to Hale?”
Finn frowned at this. “Can’t believe that. She’s too smart to just waltz in there and confront a politician about his association with a secret organization that took out hits on high-ranking members ofanothersecret organization— information that has already resulted in the death of the good congressman’s aide—without having some kind of insurance. Someone somewhere has a copy of the info on that flash drive.”
Will massaged the back of his neck as he paced his office. “Keep looking. I don’t want her to have a shred of information left after Jack and Maddie get the flash drive.”
“That’s the plan,” Finn assured him. “The listening devices that Jack and Maddie placed in her house earlier today will give us ears if she goes back home. And Jack’s going to try to get to her laptop at the hotel so that I can do a little more exploring. I’ve also deployed our COW—”
Finn’s words ended abruptly at Will’s confused frown. “Dude. C’mon. Hop into the twenty-first century with me for a minute.”
“I don’t need to understand what you do, Finn,” Will drawled. “That’s why I pay you.”
Finn sighed. “Like I said—I’ve deployed ourcell on wheels, courtesy of our brothers in the Boston commandery, so I can also listen in on any calls she makes. And my buddy Peanut—don’t ask; it’s a college thing—who works for her cell phone company, is sending me data reports every hour. So we should have her pretty well covered.”
Will nodded, mulling over everything they had in place. “And her hotel room?”
“Within spitting distance of Jack’s,” Finn said. “Not sure if that’s a good thing, considering what you have him up to, where the lovely Ms. Davenport is concerned.”
Will shot him an irritated look. “I don’t care what Jack has to do as long as he keeps Claire safe and we get that flash drive.”
A slow smirk curved Finn’s lips. “Huh.”
“What?” Will snapped.
Finn shook his head as he got to his feet and gathered his things. “Nothin’. Just think it’s interesting what order you put those goals in. That’s all.”
Will’s scowl deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Finn strolled toward the door but paused before leaving the room and sent a knowing look his commander’s way. “Just not used to you putting anything or anyoneahead of the Alliance.”
Will stood in his office staring at the empty doorway for several minutes after Finn left, considering his observation. So they’d spent a few days together running for their lives. It wasn’t like he really knew Claire or had any feelings about her one way or another. He’d saved her life and had damned near gotten himself killed in the process. He just wanted to make sure his efforts weren’t for nothing. That was all.
With a harsh sigh, he went to his desk and pulled out the leather-bound journal he kept in the top drawer. Half an hour later, he’d detailed the most recent updates to the situation, including his personal musings. It was an old habit—as evidenced by the number of old journals on his shelf and the dozens more that were in his personal library at his safe house. Old-school, sure. But if someone was going to look for confidential information, they’d be searching his computer, his email, his phone . . . No one would think that the man who ran the North American arm of the Alliance would still keep a daily journal.
And he’d kept them all, a record of his life since he was a stupid kid still trying to figure out what path he wanted to take in life. There was only one journal missing from his collection—the one that detailed his time in Nigeria, the atrocities he’d witnessed, the horrors he’d experienced. It had burned in the same fire that had destroyed the village he was supposed to have saved. It was for the best. He didn’t want to remember those days—or how that horrific time had brought Claire into his life.
He was still trying to convince himself of that when his laptop started beeping. He glanced down at it, surprised to see a notification of an incoming video conference call. He closed his journal and stowed it in the drawer, then tapped his mouse pad. A moment later the window popped up. “Jack? We weren’t scheduled to debrief until later tonight.”
“They’ve found me,” Jack said without preamble.
There was no need for further explanation. Will knew exactly whom Jack was talking about. “How do you know?”
Jack tugged at his eyebrow. “It was Kozlov.”
Will’s eyes went wide. “He’s still alive?” he asked before he stopped to consider his words. That dark day in Jack’s history was largely off-limits, even between the two of them. They’d rarely spoken of it and for good reason. Will knew that day haunted his friend. And if anybody could understand what it was like to be haunted by the past, it was Will. So he never pushed Jack to fill in the blanks. But the fact that Kozlov was alive was a damned big one.
“Kozlov surrendered when he saw what had happened to his comrades during the Russia op, so I let him live.” Jack chuckled bitterly, then raked his hands through his hair, pulling it taut against his scalp for a moment before releasing it—one of the few tells Jack had that he was upset. “Once again fucked over by my sense of honor.”
