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anyone can counteract whatever the hell his scientists are coming up with.”
“Exactly,” McNiel said. “All the more reason to concentrate on finding his lab, which, thanks to Tasha, we know isn’t in Egypt.” He looked at Griffin. “After you notify Alessandra’s father, that is your main objective. Find his lab, destroy it.”
“Understood.”
McNiel straightened a stack of papers on his desk, clearly bothered by the drawing, and doing his best not to show it. “I’m afraid it’s public transportation en route. Tex will be using the jet as part of his cover. Marilee has your ticket on her desk,” he said, referring to his secretary. “And speaking of planes, I thought this artist of yours was to be on a plane back to San Francisco, not on a private tour of our building.”
“She had other plans.”
“That wasn’t part of our plan. I agreed to her involvement because she played by the book, which made her predictable and compliable. Someone who would do as she was told, and not ask questions.”
“What we didn’t count on was someone calling her and informing her that her friend was killed in a hit-and-run.” Itwas as close as he would ever come to telling his boss, I told you so , about keeping her in the dark over Tasha’s death. “Short of hogtieing her, I didn’t think it wise to force the issue. She’s already asking questions. And that was before her partner told her I was CIA.”
Tex laughed. “CIA?”
Their boss threw Tex a dark look, then tapped the drawing of Alessandra. “This forensic artist. Do you think she’s made any connections?”
“That’s exactly what I intend to find out.” Griffin turned to Tex. “You busy? I might need your skills in the next hour or so.”
5
Sydney unbuckled her seat belt when Zach Griffin double-parked his black Chevy Tahoe in front of Scotty’s apartment building with the confidence of someone who wasn’t worried about traffic tickets. “Thanks for the lift,” she said, sliding out, then hauling the straps of her bag and drawing case over her shoulder.
He lowered the passenger window after she shut the car door. “If you need anything, day or night, my cell is on the business card.”
She gave a small wave, then turned toward the building. The doorman opened the heavy glass door, and she walked in, taking the elevator to the third floor. Once inside, she threw her things on the couch, then called the D.C. field office to have the secretary let Scotty know she was going to borrow his personal car.
“He just came in for a quick break,” the secretary said. “I’ll put you through.”
“Catch the bank robbers?” Syd asked him when he answered his phone.
“They’re holed up on the south side, and MPDC’s doing a door-to-door search right now. They called us the momentit went down. Some serious shit going on. They were armed with assault rifles. I’m thinking Russian mafia, if the accents are any clue.”
“Any leads?”
“Why? You coming down to volunteer your time on the case?”
“No. But if I get bored, maybe I could borrow your personal car. Mine’s still at the airport.”
“Keys are on the kitchen counter…You doing okay?”
“Yeah, thanks. Have you heard anything about the funeral?”
“I believe her parents are having her body shipped home. I was thinking…if I get off in time, I’ll take you to dinner?”
“Sure,” she said, hoping that he had no illusions about making it anything more than what it was. Scotty had always entertained the idea that their breakup was only temporary, which was partially Sydney’s fault, because she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, and in the end, she’d had to do just that. “Scotty, you do realize—”
“Hate to cut this short, Syd, but they’re signaling me. SWAT’s getting ready to move in. Love you.”
He hung up, and she stood there, staring at the phone, his “Love you” echoing in her mind, making her think she shouldn’t have come here after all. There
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