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“My guess is she told her assailant that she already gave the drive to us. At that point, she could assume Madam Rosalee would be successful in putting the drive in our hands.”
“Once Spencer goes down, I’ll make sure Fiona gets another job on The Hill if she wants it.” Claire ground her back teeth together. If Spencer could arrange for his former lover to get beaten, who knew what else he’d be capable of doing?
“That would be a hard sell.”
“What would?”
“Finding a position for someone in government who’d sell out her boss for a few bucks.”
“Ah, but she didn’t sell out her boss. She was assisting in the takedown of a terrorist.”
“Let’s hope she survives to take advantage of your salesmanship.”
They drove in silence for the next several miles, during which time Claire said a number of prayers for Fiona and even a few for Madam Rosalee.
They crossed into Maryland and Claire asked, “Is Jase going to be at his house when we get there?”
“I’m not sure. He’s been with his fiancée, who’s expecting a baby. She’s been through a tough time, so I’m surprised Jack got him to come out here, although Jase probably jumped at the chance to take down a Tempest plot.”
“He has history with Tempest, too?”
“Yeah, Liam and Jase—and now me.”
Another few miles and Claire pulled the sedan up to the Bennett fortress. Mrs. Curtis had given them the code for the gate, and Claire entered it.
Mrs. Curtis met them at the front door, her eyes popping at Mike’s altered appearance. She hadn’t seen him since they first arrived.
“It’s me.” Mike skimmed his hand over his buzz cut. “Do you mind if Claire gets some lunch from the kitchen?”
“Of course not. I’m sure Mr. Jason told you to make yourselves at home. There’s cold chicken, some salad and some hummus and pita bread.”
Claire plucked the hat from her head. “That sounds good, but, Mike...”
He took her by the shoulders and aimed her in the direction of the kitchen. “Eat. I’ll bring my laptop into the kitchen and we can multitask.”
Mrs. Curtis bustled ahead of her, but Claire put a hand on her back. “Don’t go to any trouble, Mrs. Curtis. I can help myself.”
“I’ll just take it out for you, and then I’ll leave you two alone to discuss business.”
How did she know they had business to discuss? Must be all those years looking after Mr. Jason.
Mrs. Curtis puttered around the kitchen, unwrapping some chicken and popping a few rounds of pita bread into the microwave. “Would you or Mr. Becker like some coffee?”
“I wouldn’t, not sure about Mr. Becker.”
Mike barreled back into the kitchen, his laptop tucked beneath his arm. “Not sure about what?”
“Would you like some coffee, sir?” Mrs. Curtis held up the coffeepot.
“No, thanks.”
“Then I’ll leave you two.” Mrs. Curtis stopped at the door. “Only Mr. Curtis and I are in residence, in the back house, and we’re leaving for Mississippi later tonight to visit our grandchildren for Christmas.”
Mike issued a mock salute. “Thanks for everything, Mrs. Curtis, and enjoy your holiday. We’ll be fine on our own, and Jase is due back tonight or tomorrow morning.”
She smiled and wished them a merry Christmas, then headed out the side door toward the back house on the grounds.
Mike set up his laptop on the granite island in the middle of the kitchen while Claire spooned some hummus onto a plate. She removed the pita from the microwave and tore off a piece.
Mike looked up from his computer. “Jack sent me the file they have on Donald Yousef, and it’s not much.”
Clicking the keyboard to scroll through the file, he continued, “He’s been keeping a low profile. He’s not on any watch lists, hasn’t attended any training camps that we know of. There’s been no indication in the past that he’s been involved in terrorist activity.”
“But Prospero is still sure he’s the man in the video with Shane?”
“They’ve verified it through some very sophisticated computer matching of features, body type, gestures.”
