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That alone should’ve let her know I wasn’t the good man she thought I was. Because I’d let the world burn for just one more minute with her.
43
DIANA
There were so many things going through my head, but I really needed to direct my attention to our video call with the President. What time was it in D.C.? Hell, what time is it here?
Carter and Gray were standing in front of the flat-screen TV in the main cabin. I kind of loved Carter had his ball cap on backward and was wearing sweatpants while talking to the Commander in Chief.
Deciding it’d be best to let Carter and Gray handle business, I hung back and peered around the cabin, not sure who to sit next to. Mya and Oliver appeared to have picked up where they left off in arguing, and since I had no interest in third-wheeling it again, I made my way to my new furry friend on the couch.
Dallas licked my cheek, then bopped his nose against my jaw as if telling me to calm down. I was glad Carter had him in his life. From the little my mother had told me about Carter back in the day, his Southern accent was thanks to being born and raised in Texas, and I loved how he’d named him after his hometown.
“I understand you think the CIA’s ruled Paulsen out as a security risk or traitor, but we have concerns that have bumped him to the top of our list.” Carter’s declaration was loud enough for me to hear him word for word, even over the noisy thoughts still circulating in my brain.
I angled my head, searching out the President through the space between Carter and Gray. President Bennett was leaning back in his chair, tapping a fist at his mouth as if unsure what to say or do. Fate of the world and all.
“A photo and tracing an email to Georgetown isn’t enough for me to go ahead and convict the man of treason,” the President responded. “Give me more than that. It’s also possible Gwen was able to retrace the blackmail emails to Georgetown because someone wanted that information to be found.”
I wasn’t a cyber-special-anything, but if these mystery people behind everything were that good, I was with the President on that. Wouldn’t they throw us off on purpose?
Then I remembered some of the other details laid out before Carter took his walk down that dark alley of memory lane. How so much uncertainty still swirled around Rebecca and Craig. Maybe the world’s best was arrogant enough to think no one could outsmart them, so there’d be no need for a misdirection ploy.
“Gwen would know if she’s being played, and only Gwen was able to find what she did. Our enemy may have one of the world’s best hackers working for them, but so do we,” Gray said, echoing my last thoughts.
“Gwen traced the signal to a server farm,” Sydney joined in, offering more concrete details that’d probably go over my head the way physics equations did for most. “From there, she navigated through a complex web of, well, if you’ll excuse me, sir, fuckery, to isolate the exact origin of that email. Throw in the fact there was a freak power outage—that same day, and twice within the hour—on the same block where the coffee shop was located, and I believe we have enough to confirm the hacker was there.”
“So, they messed with the power grid to destroy evidence they’d been there on the off chance someone did track down the coffee shop,” I said, somehow following along despite exhaustion. Like a practice run of what’s to come. Take out the power and Wi-Fi.
Sydney turned toward me and nodded. “Exactly. And there were no internal cameras at the coffee shop, which was probably one reason he or she selected that location.”
“Rewind back to Craig Paulsen for me,” the President said, drawing Sydney’s eyes once again. “I’m still waiting for you to convince me of his involvement in all of this.”
“You have a traitor in your circle, sir,” Carter responded, his tone dropping lower that time. “Of those few people, who do you not trust with a loaded weapon in the same room with your family?”
“Paulsen has nothing to gain from sabotaging this project.” A different voice came over the call before POTUS could answer, and I leaned to the side to see who else was on the screen. Ah, Gray’s dad, the Secretary of Defense.
“Then why was Paulsen spending time with a man like Andrew Cutter in 2018? I’ll remind you this is the same man responsible for blackmailing Rebecca and forcing her to break into my files so he could manipulate the illegal trafficking trade routes and eliminate his competition. The man who had Rebecca killed. That motherfucker,” Carter hissed.
Wait, what? That’s why she died? I stopped petting Dallas as every voice in the cabin went silent.
“Andrew Cutter?” Now that was a voice I knew well. “He’s responsible for Rebecca’s death?” Mom asked, seemingly shocked to hear that name.
“You knew Andrew Cutter?” Carter’s arms fell to his sides, weighed down by information more powerful than the earth’s gravitational pull. “But of course you did,” he added a heartbeat later. “Because you’re all connected.” He stepped so close to the screen I had to wonder if he’d try to reach out and throttle someone directly through it.
“It’s not what you think.” There was a touch of panic in Mom’s voice I wasn’t used to hearing.
“Then by all means, fucking enlighten me,” Carter snarled back at her. His words elicited a little yelp from Dallas, who must’ve heard his dad curse quite a few times and knew the F word meant business.
Thinking of Dallas being constantly at Carter’s side brought another pet to my mind. “They didn’t kill Pierce Quaid’s dog,” I murmured at the memory. “The men who took us let Pierce keep him. That’s weird, right?” I hadn’t meant to interrupt the showdown between Carter and my mother, nor voice my thoughts out loud, but all eyes were suddenly on me.
Carter and Gray turned to the side, peering my way, and placing me right in the President’s line of sight. My mother’s, too. She was standing behind the President wearing her favorite pink three-piece suit, an odd choice for this type of conversation.
“Diana.” Mom had said my name as if she’d forgotten I was there. My comment also appeared to shock her back to her normal state of calm, cool, and callous. “Your father sends his apologies about the tracker. I had no idea he did that, and he?—”
“Diana.” Carter’s voice was a whip-crack in the small space, giving me the floor and her no chance to argue. “You were saying . . .”
All eyes remained on me. I even had Oliver and Mya’s attention. There was no way to backtrack that information now that it’d escaped my brain. Here goes. “Pierce Quaid, the head of The Barclay Group, and part of the whole secret hostile takeover with the CIA,” I began, throwing a little inflection in my voice to let the President know I wasn’t a happy camper about that whole plan . . . “Well, Pierce had a very yappy and annoying Chihuahua. What if Pierce got to take his dog with him because he was in on the plan? He was the first one separated from us. What if he’s not a hostage at all, but was an insider at the lab?”
