Critical Doubt Page 22

  She set down her phone and turned toward him, giving him a sleepy look as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "That was Parisa. They checked all the hospitals in the DC area and talked to the police near Larimer Square where Hank was allegedly struck by a car."

  "But there's no evidence that that happened. He's not dead, either."

  "It doesn't appear so." She paused. "By the way, good morning."

  He smiled, loving the look of her in his bed. "This is what I missed the first time we were together."

  "A phone call from an FBI agent?" she teased.

  "A beautiful woman tangled up in my sheets."

  She scooted forward and gave him a kiss. Then she said, "I didn't actually miss this sight. I gave you a long, long look before I left that morning. But this is better."

  "I'll say." He kissed her again, wishing they had more time, but the room was getting brighter by the minute.

  She gave him a helpless look as she sat back. "I'd love to keep this going, but…"

  "We need to get to the bagel shop."

  "Yes." She slid out of bed, then hesitated. "We could shower together, save time."

  He grinned. "Do you really think that will save time?"

  "No, but it will be fun, and it might be our last chance for a while to have some fun."

  "Say no more. I'm in, and I know just what to do to relieve that stress." He scrambled out of bed and proceeded to show her exactly what he meant.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ryker was disappointed to see a long line when they arrived at Bagel Mania a little before eight. The café offered up sixteen varieties of bagels as well as bagel breakfast sandwiches and a wide assortment of spreads. There was also coffee, tea and cold-pressed juices. A half-dozen small tables filled the room in front of the counter, with additional tables outside. But since it was February in DC, those tables were empty. The sun was out, but the temperature was still in the forties.

  He shifted his feet restlessly as they waited their turn, keeping his eye on the door and also the sidewalk outside the café. He wanted to be alert just in case one of his other teammates decided to get a bagel for breakfast. He doubted Hank would eat anything but a protein bar, if that. He was probably fasting until noon and then downing a vegetable smoothie. The man was insane about fitness.

  Todd would be a good candidate for a bagel, though. He'd always had a weakness for food. When they'd been stuck in the desert for days on end, he'd literally dreamed about chocolate bars and triple-decker chili burgers. And then he'd felt compelled to talk about food for hours on end until they'd told him they were going to make him eat some dirt if he didn't shut up.

  As he thought about Todd, he couldn't help wondering if Todd knew about the attack on him, if he had any idea what had happened to Paul. The shooter hadn't stuck around to assess Paul's condition, but he might have been able to get information from the hospital or one of the first responders. But would the shooter relay that information to the rest of the team? He would, only if they were in on it, too, if they were on the same page as him. He was really hoping for some dissension in the ranks. But these guys were military men. They followed orders. If they'd pledged loyalty to a leader, it would take a lot for them to abandon that person.

  His gaze swept the café once more, then settled on Savannah. "You look beautiful today, Savannah. In case I don't get a chance to tell you that later."

  She flushed at his words. "Parisa put some expensive makeup in the bag."

  "It's not the makeup."

  "Well, thank you. You don't look so bad yourself. I wish we could have just had the day together to get some bagels, go for a walk, hit up a museum, take a bike ride…"

  "Is that your idea of a perfect day?"

  "I don’t know about perfect, but it sounds nice, doesn't it?"

  "It does. Although, I'm not really a museum guy."

  "Really? Museums are wonderful. I love wandering around centuries-old art and thinking about the people who made it, who lived in that time. I'm a little bit of a history buff."

  "It sounds like it." He couldn't help thinking that the more he got to know Savannah, the more he appreciated how unique and individual she was.

  "Looks like we're next," she said, as the line moved. "I'm going to order breakfast sandwiches along with information."

  "Get me two. And coffee as well."

  Savannah stepped up to the counter and gave the teenage boy with the glasses and bad case of acne a smile that probably blinded him. His jaw literally dropped open, and Ryker bit back a grin. He knew exactly how that kid felt.

  After Savannah finished ordering and handed her credit card to the boy, she also showed him her badge, and then pulled out her phone and showed him a photo of Paul. "Have you seen this man?"

  "Uh, yeah, sure. He's been coming in every day the last couple of days," the kid said. "Always gets a bunch of bagels and coffees."

  "Does he ever come in with anyone else?"

  "No. Why? What did he do?"

  "Do you think he lives around here?"

  "I don't know. Probably."

  "You ever talk to him?" Ryker interjected. "Did he tell you his name?"

  "I just sell him bagels."

  "Thanks," Savannah said. They slid down the counter toward the pick-up window.

  "At least we know this is the right bagel shop," he said.

  "And we know Paul was always buying more bagels and coffees than he could eat or drink himself. Whoever he is working with has to be nearby, Ryker."

  "That narrows it down, but maybe not enough."

  "I'll let Parisa know that it's this shop. After we eat, we can walk around the neighborhood."

  He nodded, his gaze moving back to the window. There was an apartment building directly across the street. "We can start there."

  She nodded. "We'll check out all the possibilities. There was also a motel down the street. I noticed it when we were looking for parking. That's a better bet for a hideout. They could probably pay in cash. No trail."

  "Good point."

  When their order was up, Savannah showed Paul's photo to the female server.

  "Sure, I've seen him," she said. "He always orders extra spreads. He didn't come in today, though. Maybe he left town."

  He frowned at the server's words. "Did he say he might be leaving town?"

  "He said DC was too cold for him. He couldn't wait to get somewhere warmer. I guess I assumed he was going somewhere. I didn't ask."

  "Thanks," he said.

  They took their food to a nearby table and sat down.

  "Paul picked a good place to eat," Savannah said, biting into her scrambled egg bagel with green onions and cheddar cheese. "This is delicious."

  "You know who always orders extra cream cheese—Todd."

  She met his gaze. "It would make sense they were together. Hank, too, probably. Perhaps Mason."

  "I still haven't heard a word from Mason," he said, as he ate his bagel and washed each bite down with a swig of coffee.

  "I don't think you will, Ryker."

  "We still don't know if he's involved. He's supposed to have surgery today. That doesn't sound like a man who's caught up in some big plan, does it?"

  "Maybe not. I know you don't want him to be involved, but his silence is damning."

  She was right. Maybe he was just sticking his head in the sand, desperate to find one man on his team who didn't want to kill him or fake their death. But it was time to stop speculating and get on with finding some answers. He finished the last of his coffee. "Let's go."

  His truck was parked down the street, in the direction of the motel that Savannah had noticed earlier. Along the way, he scanned the block for a familiar face. To his utter shock, he finally found one. Todd came out of a newsstand with a pack of cigarettes in his hand. "There he is."

  "I see him," Savannah said.

  Todd had stopped walking, his head down as he paused to light his cigarette.

  "I'm going to cross the stre
et and come up behind him," she murmured. "Just in case he runs."

  He barely heard her. He was completely focused on Todd. He slowly crept forward and was about twenty feet away when Todd looked up and saw him. Todd froze, then tossed his cigarette on the ground and took off running in the other direction.

  He ran after him, wishing his knee was a hundred percent, but he was determined not to let Todd get away. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he sprinted down the street. He didn't know where Savannah had gone, but maybe she could cut him off.

  Todd made an abrupt turn, dashing through the alley between two buildings.

  He followed, picking up the pace as Todd paused to throw a couple of trash cans out of his way, allowing him to close the gap between them.

  With one last extra burst of speed, he tackled Todd, throwing him to the ground.

  Todd scrambled away, taking a swing at his face. He ducked, and Todd's fist only landed a glancing blow. He swung left, then right, connecting to Todd's cheekbone, his shoulder. Then he shoved him back against the wall. Todd's head bounced off the stucco, and he gave him a dazed look.

  Ryker pulled the gun out from under his jacket. "Don't move."

  Todd stared back at him, his left hand moving toward his waistband.

  "Don't do it," Ryker warned.

  "You won't shoot me," Todd said, but there was doubt in his voice.

  "He might not, but I will," Savannah said, coming from the opposite direction, her gun trained on Todd.

  "Take out your weapon and put it on the ground and kick it over here," Ryker ordered.

  "You don't understand what's going on," Todd said.

  "Do what I said."

  Todd hesitated, then took out his gun, dropped it on the ground and kicked it in his direction. "It's not what you think," he said.

  "You don't have any idea what I think. I know you faked your death, as did Paul. Why?"

  "Money," Todd said shortly. "My mother needs better care than I can afford. The job I had wasn't cutting it. Paul was having the same struggles."

  "So how are you going to get money? What's the plan?"

  "How do you know about Paul?" Todd asked.

  Seeing the question in his eyes, Ryker knew that Todd had no idea what had happened last night. "I saw him last night," he said. "Right after someone blew up my car and tried to kill me. Paul stepped in front of a bullet, by the way. He's fighting for his life in a hospital in Chesapeake Beach."

  Todd turned white. "That's not true."

  "Trying to pretend you don't know someone wanted to kill me?" he asked scornfully. "Or did you also think I was just supposed to be scared off? How the fuck could you believe I'd ever be scared off? Do you not know me at all?"

  "I swear I didn't know anyone was trying to kill you. I didn't. You've just been asking so many questions everywhere. We had to find a way to slow you down. We were just going to scare you."

  "Well, Paul knew it would be more than that. He saved me. But he might not make it, Todd. He might actually die this time."

  Todd swallowed hard.

  "By the way, Abby is with him," Ryker continued. "She's wondering how her dead husband could be dying again. You might want to think about the very special hell she's going through right now."

  Todd immediately shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. "No way!"

  "It's true. And before he passed out, Paul told me that he found out someone was trying to kill me. He said he was sorry that he had believed the lie. What's the lie, Todd?"

  "You could be lying right now. Paul could be fine."

  "He's not fine, but, hopefully, he will live. And if he does, he will talk. Because he knows what he did was wrong. It's over, Todd. Whatever you're involved in won't work. You have one chance to save yourself, and that opportunity is now. I know you're not the ringleader. This is not your plan. Do you really want to go down for it?"

  "The team goes down together," Todd said dully, repeating the mantra they'd all lived by.

  "The team isn't together. Not without me. I'm the leader. Why did you leave me out?"

  "You abandoned everyone."

  "You can be pissed off about that. But I didn't try to kill anyone. I didn't fake my own death. I didn't hurt everyone around me. Tell me what's going on."

  "We just wanted to take care of the families. Carlos's wife and his four kids are struggling. Hank's stepsister has special needs. Paul was going to have to declare bankruptcy. He and Abby were losing their house. My mother will have to be moved into this awful place run by the county, because I can't pay for the facility where she is. I can't let that happen to her. She may not know me, but I know her. I'm her son. I have to take care of her the way she took care of me, and I can't earn enough money to do that."

  He tried not to be taken in by Todd's noble words, although some of them rang very true. "How are you getting the money?" he asked.

  Todd stared back at him, a plea in his gaze. "It can still work, Ryker. You just have to walk away and let it happen. Don't you want everyone to be all right?"

  "At what cost? And I don't believe it's just about money. Someone tried to kill me and Savannah. That wasn't for the families. Who's running the show? Is it Hank? Mason? Someone else?"

  "Hank was just supposed to scare you. That was it," Todd said, desperate to believe in the lie he was telling himself.

  "You should tell Paul that when he wakes up. The bullet tore into his carotid artery. He could have bled out on the street if we hadn't been there. Even if he survives, he'll have a hellish recovery. He may never be the man he was. Now tell me what's going on."

  "Why should I?"

  "Because maybe I can help you. But you have one second to decide."

  Todd finally blew out a breath of defeat. "We're going to intercept a truck filled with weapons, and we're going to sell them."

  "To our enemies? How can you do that? How can you betray your country like that?" He was beginning to wonder if he'd ever known any of the men in his unit.

  "No. No," Todd said more strongly. "We're going to sell them back to the company we steal them from—Spear. They'll have to buy them back or risk their weapons ending up in the wrong hands. And if they don't want to pay, we'll threaten to leak that the weapons were stolen. Then they'll lose their government contracts. The company will be destroyed. They won't let that happen, so they'll pay up. We'll have enough cash to take care of everyone. We've already set up a fund. As soon as we get the money, it will go in there. It will be a win for everyone. And the military will still get their guns." Todd paused. "Come on, Ryker, you have to admit it's a brilliant plan. We're only taking what's ours. Carlos and Leo died because those rebels had our guns, our explosives. Why shouldn't we take care of the people they left behind?"

  He felt a little relief that they weren't planning to sell the weapons to terrorists, but what they were doing was still wrong. He also didn't think Todd had the whole story. "Paul said it's a lie. Are you sure it's going down the way you say?"

  "Yes," Todd said, but he didn't sound quite as confident as he had earlier.

  "Where are the others? Where is Mason?"

  "He's in surgery. It was part of his cover. He couldn't be at Spear today."

  His heart sank as he realized Mason was involved, too, and that their entire conversation the day before had been a lie. Hell, Mason was probably the one who had sent Hank to kill him. He had to be the brains of this operation.

  "That's why Mason got the job at Spear," he said, as more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "He wanted access to security, to shipping, to everything. When's the intercept happening?"

  "This afternoon. We're waiting for an exact time."

  "Waiting to hear from who? You just said Mason is in surgery."

  "Hank is driving the truck. He's at Spear now."

  They'd thought of almost everything. Except they probably hadn't counted on Todd to stumble into him and tell all. Which brought up another question. "Why are you alone, Todd? Are you sure you're still in this?"


  "Of course I am. Why would you ask that?"

  "Because things are changing fast, and you don't seem to be in the loop."

  "Ryker?" Savannah interrupted. "I know you and Todd have a lot to talk about, but we need to take Todd in. We need to notify Spear. We need to get agents out to the intercept site."

  He knew she was right, but he wanted to finish this himself, not have a bunch of feds do it for him. Before he could reply, a black SUV turned down the alley. "You texted Parisa," he said, irritated by that fact.

  "As soon as I got to the alley," she admitted.

  He wished she hadn't done that. He wanted more time to talk to Todd alone. They still didn't have enough details. But the agents were already getting out of the car.

  "You gotta help me," Todd said, as the agents handcuffed him and led him to the SUV. "You said you would, Ryker. You owe me. I'm not going to give out any more information until someone makes me a deal."

  The door slammed on Todd's words, and he was more than happy about that, because anger was raging within him, not just with Todd, but with all of his team. And he had a little left over for Savannah. But that was going to have to stew for a while as Parisa came back to speak to them.

  "What did Todd tell you?" Parisa asked, shooting them both a quizzical look.

  "The plan is to hijack a weapons shipment from Spear and hold it for ransom," Savannah replied. "It's supposed to happen today, but we didn't get the details on when or where that's going to happen. Apparently, Hank Morgan will be driving the vehicle from Spear to wherever it's going."

  As Savannah filled Parisa in on the rest of what Todd said, Ryker's stomach continued to churn. They had Todd in custody, but that wouldn't stop Hank and Mason from carrying out their plan. It was actually a clever idea, and it was difficult to deny that he didn't understand their desire for money. While he didn't have the same needs, he knew that all of the guys had been struggling since they'd left the service. Hell, Mason had lost a leg.

  And taking care of the families of the fallen, there was something honorable about that, but not the way they were going about it. He also didn't know if he bought the fact that all the money was going to this family fund. There was no way they were giving it all away. Even Todd had admitted that Hank wanted to start a chain of gyms. Where was the nobility in that? No, there was greed involved here, too.