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Doubtful. But you’re you . . . I’m not shocked. If anyone knew what Diana had discovered, she’d be more valuable than all the fucking parts. She was all they’d need.
“The President didn’t mention other locations, right?” Her eyes were open and on me again, so I shook my head no.
“If they exist, you think they were hit, too?”
“Only one way to find out. The President’s not going to tell us anything over the call today, though. He’ll want us at a secure location first. A CIA safe house.” She only gave me a hesitant nod to that. “You think it’d be a nuclear or non-nuclear?”
“Non-nuclear, but just as effective at the end goal.” She wet her lips. “I panicked when the sirens went off and erased the equation from the laptop so no one could get it. But the more I remember, the more I think someone may have been monitoring my computer. They could already have what they need even though I deleted it.”
“They’ll want you regardless. You said it’s still a theory until applied. They’ll need the brainchild behind the numbers to ensure it’s successful.” Not what I wanted to tell her, but it was the truth. She was invaluable, including to the President and CIA.
“If you saw me on the other security cameras, then the people after me must’ve seen me, too. They may have zoomed in on my screen and?—”
“The main cameras were corrupted and destroyed before they infil’ed the lab.” That was now a blessing in disguise. They wouldn’t have seen Diana’s shocked expression while staring at her screen moments before the siren had sounded.
“Wait, then how’d you see me?”
About that. My free hand raced along my jawline as I considered how to share that information without letting her know I’d developed an unhealthy obsession with her. “There were other cameras there they didn’t know about.” I waited to see if she’d accept that pathetic explanation without question, to not see what was in front of her again since this time the answer was me.
She pulled her hand free from mine. I was worried she’d accurately read the particular brand of psychopath in my eyes and knew I’d been stalking her. Instead, she went a different direction and said, “My mom pushed me to work for Barclay, and her boyfriend is the Secretary of Energy.”
I was curious to see what puzzle pieces her brilliant mind clicked together.
She leaned forward, setting her elbows on her knees in a position that would likely make her lightheaded. So, I hooked my arm with hers, urging her back upright so she didn’t faint.
Despite everything she’d endured this week, she was somehow still capable of carrying a deep and important conversation.
“My mother had to have knowingly set me up for this project. How could she do that to me? How could she not tell me what I’d really been working on and who I’d been working for?”
“It’s possible she didn’t know until now.” I honestly didn’t know what to believe, but I’d play devil’s advocate if it’d help keep her from breaking to pieces. She’d already been through too much to also feel betrayed and misled by her own flesh and blood.
“No, she had to have known.” A few tears fell, but it was the way her brows suddenly snapped together that had me growing even more uneasy. “Craig Paulsen is part of this, isn’t he? He’s friends with Mom and with . . .”
Her wide-eyed, panicky look had me holding my fucking breath. That name. That man. The bad gut feeling I’d had at Susan’s reaction to him in the Oval . . .
What are you afraid to tell me? I stood and faced her, feeling a weird rush of something roll through my body and land in the pit of my stomach. Was this anxiety?
“Craig, um, found out you and I spoke the day of the takeover in New York. He forced me into his limo to talk. He wanted to know what you said to me and if I told you about my work. I—I hadn’t understood why he’d been so riled up then, but he clearly didn’t want you knowing anything,” she rushed out.
I took a knee before her and held her hands between my own as I rasped, “Did he hurt you? Touch you?”
Her silence was a disaster to my state of mind. Does he need to die? Say the word, and I’ll make it rain with his blood. “What is it, Diana? Because so help me, I’m on the verge of losing it.” So much for calm, comfort, and control. I was on the edge of becoming irrational, but I couldn’t prevent my reactions any more than using the power of my mind to stop a speeding train.
“He warned me you were dangerous, and he mentioned he was friends with Rebecca before she died.”
I blinked. Replayed her words. My body going cold. “But did he hurt you?” That was all I could think about right now. Her.
A flash of surprise crossed her face, but I couldn’t figure out why. “Not really, no. Just scared me.”
“Define ‘not really.’” Counting back from three, I waited for her answer.
“Just, um, squeezed my leg and yanked my hair. Said a few things that made me uncomfortable. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she sputtered.
So, he needs to die, is what you’re saying. His name jumped to the top of my hit list.
“I assume my boss, Pierce Quaid, told him you were at the office that day. Pierce was taken with me, though, so I don’t think he’s in on the lab hit, but he probably did know the CIA was behind the transfer in ownership.”
At some point during our conversation, my hand had moved to my sidearm. To say my trigger finger was itchy was an understatement. I kept it there as I pieced more of the puzzle together. “I trusted Pierce because Rebecca did.” I remembered what I’d been told in the Oval Office about the hostile takeover. “Pierce did know, and Paulsen is aware I’m here now.”
