Several people on Charlie team shifted in their seats as if it made their skin crawl, and Rome felt a prickle at the base of his own spine.
“It’s similar to the modulator Cipher used in Times Square when he hijacked every screen there.”
Everyone remembered the ghost voice from an incident with a member of Charlie the previous year. It echoed throughthousands of speakers, yet its message had been intended for only one woman.
“You believe it’s a copycat?” Rome asked before anyone else could.
Dante’s expression tightened. “Possible.”
Cannon folded his arms. “Where did the recording come from? Why hasn’t Blackout command shared it with us?”
“Because they didn’t know about it.” Dante’s expression hardened. “I found it while digging through the FBI files on the dead agent.”
Cannon pressed his fist to his lips for a brief heartbeat, but it was long enough to make up his mind. “We’re not putting our lives in the hands of bureaucrats who pick and choose what they share.”
Several people nodded in agreement, including Rome. Blackout gave up their entire existence to fight for a better world. If protecting it meant carving their own path, then so be it.
“Play it again,” Rome said.
The voice recording looped once more. The distorted, robotic voice warbled beneath a layer of static.
Beneath the demonic tone, other sounds surfaced. The clink of glasses. Plates. Voices.
For a second Rome thought he heard a name.Stina.
It couldn’t be. He was thinking so much about the sexy curve of her spine and the tattoo across it that he was hearing things.
Then Monk’s hand shot up. “Wait! What is that?”
Everyone turned toward him.
“Separate the layers.”
Dante didn’t hesitate, fingers flying over the keys.
It took two tries, but a few seconds later, the recording split into only the voice.
Then only the background.
In two war rooms on opposite sides of the country, the sounds of a restaurant drifted through the speakers. Dishes. Conversation.
Then came a voice too familiar to ignore. Jolie.
“Stina, you got this. Approach slow. You do not want to touch a hot pan to the customer’s arm.”
Every person in the room froze, and then another voice answered—strong and confident, absolutely certain of herself in a way Rome had been hearing in his head for more hours than he cared to.
“I got this.”
“Fuck!It’s Stina and Jolie,” he grated out.
Across the table, Monk’s intense stare collided with his.
Cannon jerked a hand toward Monk. “Get them.”
Monk shot out of his chair and stormed out, bellowing. “Jolie! Stina! We need you in here—” He broke off and stared down at the floor.
Rome bit off a groan. When Jolie first arrived on base, they found her sitting outside the war room. A lot. It didn’t shock him at all when she entered with Stina right behind her. While Jolie had the grace to look a little guilty, Stina held her head high in a haughty, self-assured way that matched her tone on the recording.
