Victor had made a few mistakes, granted. But?—
“Are you looking for someone?” SSA Natalie Grimshaw asked, her purse over one shoulder, jacket in hand.
He stood in front of the doorway. “Apologies. It’s been a long day.”
She smiled. “Go home and get some rest. There’s always work tomorrow.”
“Too right.”
She left him with a goodnight, and he hurried back upstairs to his desk.
Well, not his desk, but TS Worley wouldn’t be using it again. Ever.
Casimir had infiltrated the FBI on the pretext of being a tech expert sent over from the Sacramento field office. His alias, TS Casey Cooper, was known for his skills in cybersecurity.
Easy enough to fake, especially since he’d killed Worley and appropriated his electronic keys and clearances. Without Worley around to question or be questioned, since Casimir had doctored Worley’s “special assignment” somewhere out east, Casimir was free to work at his desk with his cloned credentials, getting closer to the agents working on Kaminski’s file.
ASAC Jon Haversham, ASAC Matthew Scott, SSA Natalie Grimshaw, and Special Agents Jane Cannon and Jennifer Sullivan continued to be threats to Casimir’s previous boss.
But since he no longer worked for August, Casimir had plans of his own, a new blueprint they would follow.
He called Victor. “Do it. Tonight.” After a pause, he added in a lower voice, “We kill them all.”
Chapter 37
Jane,Uncle Chris, and Raine met at her cousin’s favorite steak place downtown. It had a sophisticated yet kitschy vibe, the restaurant decorated in bold colors with hanging plants and potted flowers everywhere set against a backdrop of natural and light wood furnishings. One wall, made entirely of glass windows, allowed for waterfront views of the Sound.
Servers milled about, covered in piercings, tattoos, and hair in various shades of the rainbow. Each server had impeccable manners and dressed in a sleeveless black shirt and slacks with a different colored bowtie.
The place usually had a waiting list a mile long, but Uncle Chris knew a guy who knew a guy, and they’d managed a coveted reservation at the last minute.
Seated at a semi-private table in the back near a water fountain where verdigris satyrs gurgled water around a nude gorgon who channeled the water up and out through her many snaked hair, Jane studied her family.
Her uncle appeared relaxed if she ignored the glint in his dark eyes.
Raine mirrored him, her arms loose on the arms of her chair, her smile more snarky than amused.
“How lovely to share a meal with my family,” her uncle said after their server had brought a carafe of water, a bottle of wine—on the house—and taken their orders.
“I love this place.” Raine glanced around her with a smile then tossed back a swig of wine.
“It’s not a shot, Raine,” Jane muttered, embarrassed but not surprised at her cousin’s lack of class.
Raine snickered. Uncle Chris grinned as he slid Raine a five-dollar bill.
“Sorry. But I bet that you’d get that exact expression on your face if I did that.” Raine didn’t sound apologetic as she pocketed the money.
“I live to amuse.”
Chris laughed. “Ah, my favorite nieces.”
“Your only nieces,” Jane and her cousin said at the same time. A familiar rejoinder.
“It’s true. How often do I get to spend time with you two when all of us are healthy? No casts, concussions, or stitches in sight.”
Raine nodded. “True enough. Though I’m pretty sure our FBI wonder girl is still nursing some bruised ribs.”
“Ha. I am not.” Jane barely felt the twinges anymore. “I’m too busy to feel pain.”
