“I want to be there. I want to see him in cuffs when you guys haul him out of his house.” She wanted to see him, for him to look into her eyes before they took him away.
“We’ll see,” was all Matt said.
“There’s a possibility we’d allow you to be a lookout with one of us. But under the circumstances, you can understand why there’s concern about you ignoring commands in order to achieve your own agenda,” Alex added.
She couldn’t even be insulted or argue that point, because it was true. So she nodded. “Fine. As long as I get to be there when it all goes down.” Because short of chaining her in place or locking her up, nothing would keep her from going to that house tonight.
No one said anything further to her as they drove toward Quantico, busy talking about the investigation and the remaining timeline. Then they all got quiet when the burner phone in her pocket chimed.
Pulling it out, Briar checked the screen. It was a message from Trinity. Georgia knows, it read. She’d added an embedded link below it.
Briar tapped on it, waited for the page to load. Seconds later the opening bars of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries filled the vehicle.
An alarm, and a warning.
Heart tripping, she cast an alarmed glance at Matt, who was watching her in the rearview mirror. “It’s Trin. Georgia knows about Balducci. She might be going after him.”
And if she reached him before the HRT did, Balducci wouldn’t live long enough to be taken into custody tonight.
****
None of his business contacts had returned his calls, and that wasn’t a good sign.
Will slid his favorite SIG into the specially designed holster at the small of his back and tugged the bottom of his tux jacket over it. It fit so well no one would be able to tell he was carrying. He had a full magazine in it and a spare in the glove compartment of his BMW, just in case.
Tonight he was taking no chances.
Five minutes until he had to leave for the party and he’d heard nothing from the bank manager in the Caymans, either. The last payment for the final arms sale was supposed to have been transferred to his account this afternoon. When he’d checked just before closing time, the wire transfer still hadn’t shown up.
It could just be a technical glitch, something easy that the manager could fix for him over the weekend.
Or it could mean something far worse.
“Will? Are you ready?” Barbara called from downstairs.
“Be down in a minute,” he called back, facing his reflection in the mirror. At least his unease didn’t show.
He had to show up at the dinner. There was no way around it. Aside from everything else, the mysterious female supporter he’d been trying to meet with over the past few weeks had indicated she might attend. He’d never met her in person, only spoken to her over the phone and via e-mail. With her financial clout behind him, he could do wonders with his upcoming campaign.
He’d eat, mingle with his guests for a bit, listen to the speeches then give his. After his big announcement, he’d head for a private airstrip outside of town and get out of the country to plan his next move. For a surprise trip, he’d tell Barb.
At the foot of the stairs, his wife awaited him, beautiful as always. She wore a ruby-red gown that made her skin glow, her blond hair twisted into a sleek knot at the back of her head. She looked elegant, refined, the perfect image of a future senator’s wife.
Pushing aside his unease he smiled at her and offered his arm. “You look beautiful.”
Her eyes lit up at the compliment and he saw the spark of hope there, the hope that he still loved her and that their marriage would mean more than what it had become over the past few years. Will didn’t have the heart to extinguish that fragile flame. It seemed ironic, but he needed her more than ever right now.
She smoothed her hands along the shoulders of his tux jacket. “You look pretty gorgeous yourself. Even better than the day I married you.”
Giving into the moment, he kissed her gently, felt the tiny ripple of shock that traveled through her before her lips molded to his. When he lifted his head he saw the desire glowing in her eyes and found himself looking forward to later on, when they’d be aboard the private jet he’d hired.
Assuming he made it that far.
****
Nate hustled through headquarters at Quantico and pushed open the door to the briefing room with only two minutes to spare. The rest of his team was already there, along with several other FBI agents he recognized, among them Celida Morales, his team leader’s girl. Tuck was standing next to her, listening to whatever her boss, Agent Greg Travers, was saying.
Nate quickly crossed the room to join his other six teammates, all seated in chairs waiting for the briefing to begin.