Page 39 of Lock ’N’ Load

“I only found out tonight.” The muscles beneath her hand flexed, and she released his arm. “When Jake told me the guy’s criminal history, we went to your house to check up on you.”

“Well, who is he?” She looked from Matt to the detective.

“His name is Viktor Solonik,” Detective Sorensen supplied. “He’s a low-level thug with ties to the Russian mob. He’s been suspected of a few hits, but nothing was ever proven. Do you know him?”

She gripped the bed rail tightly. For a moment, all she could do was give the detective a blank look while she processed what he’d said. A Russian hit man is trying to kill me. She shook her head to clear it, then wracked her brain for even the slightest recollection, but there was none.

“I’ve never heard of him. Why didn’t he just shoot me? If he could break into my house and douse it with gasoline without me hearing a thing, why not put a bullet in my head while I’m sleeping? Wouldn’t that have been a lot easier?” This time when she shivered, it had nothing to do with the air conditioning. The idea of being shot while she slept was terrifying.

“Overtly murdering a high-level CIA intelligence analyst would raise a helluva lot of red flags,” Matt said. “Both a police and an internal investigation would be initiated. The first attempt on your life was almost labeled a random attack, which was probably what Solonik intended. In all likelihood, had he succeeded, he would have gone back and stolen your wallet from your car to make it look like a simple robbery. Even the fire could have been considered accidental, although using an accelerant that way was sloppy.”

“Getting back to my point”—Chief McIntyre glared at Wayne—“someone tried to murder her. Twice. That makes it my and Sgt. Connors’s business. So we definitely need to know what the hell’s really going on here.”

Wayne and Genevieve exchanged another look, this one longer in duration. Wayne poked his head around each side of the curtained room, then turned back and lowered his voice.

“Gentlemen, what you’re about to hear is ten steps beyond TS, but in the interest of Trista’s safety, we agree. You do need to know. The two of you,” he said, tipping his head first to Matt then Chief McIntyre, “will both officially be read into the program.” He gave the detective a pointed look. “You, however, were never here. Discussing a single word of what I’m about to say outside the scope of this investigation constitutes a breach of national security. And”—he indicated the detective’s notepad—“no notes.”

“Get on with it.” Matt’s tone was hard as he glared at Wayne, the muscles in his cheeks flexing. He looked…deadly. That was the word that came to Trista’s mind.

Wayne shifted, looking uncomfortable under Matt’s unyielding scrutiny.

“Ms. Gold is exceptionally good at what she does. To a fault.” Wayne’s gaze met hers, and she couldn’t be certain what he’d said was a compliment. “Using a program that she alone developed for the agency, she tracked a target in the black net, then overheard something in a secret chat room that put her life at risk. After the attack Monday night, we reread the printout of the chat but weren’t certain there was a connection to her assignment. Due to the content of that conversation and even the remote possibility that the two events were linked, we revoked her security clearance and banned her from Langley for her own safety.”

Hearing the true reason for her clearance revocation made her feel slightly better, although all she wanted to do now was to go after Karakurt that much more.

“We now believe,” Wayne continued, “that someone is trying to kill Trista for her intrusion into that black net chat room.”

“If this program is so covert,” Matt interjected, “how did they identify her, and how did they do it so quickly?”

“That’s something we’re not clear on,” Genevieve said. “But we’re working on that to prevent it from happening again.”

“Kevin?” Trista asked, knowing her friend was the agency’s go-to guy for troubleshooting all things online. Then she gasped. “I know what happened. There was a brief blip in power. It disrupted my program for a few seconds, but it could have been enough to enable a trace. Kevin’s computer experienced a power glitch at the same time.”

“We know.” Genevieve nodded. “And we’re implementing additional safeguards. Our backup power sources now have two additional reinforcements. Unfortunately, it looks as if that brief power shutdown was enough for them to trace your location and ID you.”

“Who are they?” Matt asked. “And how could they have ID’d a specific person inside Langley?”

Again, Wayne and Genevieve exchanged meaningful looks that Trista easily recognized. Her supervisors were engaging in a silent debate about how much information to reveal.

“To answer your first question, the Russians,” Wayne said. “As for the second, we don’t know yet.”

Matt moved closer to the bed. “Who exactly were you listening to?”

“I don’t think that’s—” Wayne argued, but Matt’s harsh tone cut him off.

“I don’t give a shit what you think. The time for spy games is over.” When he looked down at her, his voice softened. “Tell me exactly who was in this chat room and what they said. Don’t leave anything out.”

Despite Matt’s commanding, no-nonsense tone, ultimately she worked for Wayne. And he was the one who called the shots regarding the dissemination of classified intel, although she appreciated Matt’s to-hell-with-protocol attitude when it came to her safety. His fierce protectiveness made her feel cared for. Or maybe that was merely wishful thinking on her part.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.” Wayne shot her a look of warning. “Ms. Gold is a CIA analyst and, as such, is privy to some of the most classified intelligence on the planet. To be fully read into this would take months of background checks and security clearances. We’ve already provided you with more information than you’re entitled to know.”

“You’ve given us jack shit.” Matt advanced on Wayne, who took a step back, nearly tripping over a chair. “We know Solonik tried to kill her, but we still don’t know who gave him the order. If you don’t tell us who’s really after her, it’s clear as rain they’ll keep trying until they get the job done.”

“No, he won’t.” All eyes turned to Chief McIntyre, who, until now, had remained silent. “Because you are now officially assigned to protect Ms. Gold until further notice.”

“What?” Matt barked.

“No,” Trista said at the same time. So great was her own shock that her hold on the Styrofoam cup loosened, and it fell to the floor.