Matt leaned forward to look at the sums. Good-sized was an understatement. Five electronic fund transfers, each ranging from two hundred to over eight hundred thousand U.S. dollars. “Who were they transferred to?”
Zahra opened another screen and began searching the account number. “Registered to a Free Enterprise Investments, Limited. U.S. company.”
She found it online, but there wasn’t much information. It seemed shady, even to him. The company definitely existed, at least on paper, but the lack of info hinted that it could be a front for a sophisticated cover-up operation.
“It’s a solid thread,” Rycroft said. “Keep pulling on it.” He glanced at Briar. “Anyone else you recognize in that list?”
Zahra pulled up the original screen and Briar studied it. “Him,” she said, pointing to another man, this one who looked to be in his late fifties or so, balding. “He was a lawyer I met once in Iraq, who gave me intel on a militia leader I was tracking. Said he was investigating funding for several groups fighting in the area, and mentioned the American weapons.”
Accessing his financial information, Zahra grunted. “I’ll bet he was, since he was apparently a major funder himself.” She leaned back to let everyone see the financials. Again, several six-figure EFTs had been sent from his personal account to others. “Here’s another American company,” she said, pointing to the name of it, different from the first. “I’ll check it too.”
Briar continued looking through the list but didn’t recognize anyone else.
“I’ve got to get some things cleared off my desk before I head home, but I’ll try to work on this some more tonight or before I head back in tomorrow,” Celida said. “And Tuck says hi.”
“Tell him hi back,” Matt said. “And thanks again for all this. I appreciate it.”
“You bet. Just hope we find the asshole responsible so we can get moving on this.”
“I hear you.” They ended the call and Matt tucked the phone back into his pants pocket. “Any other angle you want to try?” he asked Briar.
She was staring thoughtfully at the screen, her arms crossed loosely beneath her breasts. Breasts currently outlined in a distracting way now that she was wearing a shirt that actually fit her instead of his XXL T-shirt. The black V-neck sweater hugged her curves and slender waist, ending at her hips that were now encased in snug, dark denim.
He couldn’t wait to strip everything off her and get his hands and mouth on all that bronzed, silken skin.
“I’m trying to think what the hell these guys had to do with my assets and Janaia, but other than the weapons I just don’t see a connection.”
“Zahra, you’ll keep looking into the financials of those companies? See if you find more leads?” Rycroft asked.
“Yes.” She didn’t glance up from her laptop screen.
“Okay, we’ll get dinner together then.” He waved Matt and Briar into the kitchen and they threw together a salad, some pasta and garlic bread from the groceries Zahra had picked up earlier. They ate together in front of the fireplace while Zahra picked at her food one-handed while reading whatever she’d pulled up on screen.
“Is she a hacker or something?” Briar asked Rycroft, slanting a glance at the woman through the open office door.
“She can do that too, yeah,” he said, taking a bite of the garlic bread and talking around it. “Her real specialty is SIGINT. She’s a cryptologist by trade, can break codes, translate Urdu, some Pashto and Arabic.” He glanced at Briar. “I hear you’re not bad with the languages either.”
She shrugged, forking up some salad. Matt got distracted watching her lips close around the fork, glistening from the oil in the dressing as she chewed, and was reminded all over again of the sight of those shiny lips wrapped around his cock.
His fingers tightened around his fork and he shifted on the couch in a futile effort to relieve the pressure increase in his groin. He’d taken a separate room from her earlier because he hadn’t wanted to simply assume she’d want him staying with her, and because he’d wanted her to come to him next time. Now that she had, damn near bringing him to his knees in that bathroom, he wasn’t sleeping anywhere but beside her. Not that either of them would get much sleep tonight.
“Just Arabic and Spanish, mostly. But I’m not bad with Urdu and Pashto either,” she said to Rycroft. Setting her fork down, she looked at Matt. “I want to contact Georgia, make sure she’s okay and see if she’s heard anything. Can I borrow a burner phone?”