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“I’m on my way.” I waved my hand and a black livery car pulled up. I leaned into the driver’s window. “I’m a federal agent, I need to get to my field office in Downtown Manhattan.”
“Get in,” the driver said.
“Tamryn, thanks for the heads up about this. You’re the best.”
“Not for long.”
“What?”
“You do remember I’m going on maternity leave next week. Maloney’s assistant will cover for me.” Tamryn was gold and I’d be lost without her. “Right. I’ll manage, I guess.” I huffed. “Okay, I’m crossing a bridge. Which one I have no idea because I still don’t know where I am.”
“It’s the Brooklyn Bridge,” the driver commented, listening to every word I just said. “You seriously don’t recognize it?”
Not with so much on my mind. “Oh right. I just didn’t pay attention.”
Tamryn hung up and I pinched my nose, wrapping my head around the idea that someone had tried to kill Rebecca. I let the emotion wash over me until I was shaking uncontrollably. Why did I have to end up in Brooklyn of all nights?
We swung off the bridge and recognizing the streets leading to my field office, I started to relax. I paid the driver and rushed inside the building. The smell of Chinese food hit me in the face like a baseball bat when I got to my section on the fourth floor. Open cardboard containers were everywhere. Some empty, some half empty.
Shit, my team looked to be settling in for the night. I only had alcohol in my system and I was already feeling dizzy from hunger.
“Hey,” I said, strutting into the conference room. “What do you have for me about Briggs’ CI tip?”
“I’m monitoring chatter all over that message board with hit contracts to see if the one this afternoon was even listed there and we missed it.” Bennet, one of the tech specialists, eyed me above his laptop. “Lots of posts about the guy who botched up the hit. I’m trying to figure out who he is. Those IP addresses are bouncing all over the map.”
“Good. Carroll, what do you have?”
“I’m trying to hack into cameras near the cemetery to see if we can get a look at the guy’s face. They only have one at the entrance,” Carroll said. “But we ran the plates of everyone who came in that way. No one out of the ordinary. Guy must have climbed a fence somewhere to get in and out. We have no idea what happened to him. There aren’t any cameras at the gravesites.”
I had a feeling I knew, or at least I hoped the guy was dead. “Where is she now? Domenico.” If I said her first name, how I felt about her might come out.
“Those cameras Agent Maloney had installed along Second Avenue for the Brightwater case saw her pull up to her townhouse. Her guards escorted her inside.”
I froze, wondering if those cameras had caught me walking past her house, specifically a couple of weeks ago when she kissed me on the sidewalk. I’d hack into those later and erase anything if I had to. Right now, I was worried about Rebecca.
“Was she all right?” I asked.
Bennett studied me. “There was some blood on her jacket. Her hair was a little messed up.”
My heart pounded with worry. “And no ambulance calls to her house? Or a doctor?” Fuck, I should get the hell out of here and go see her. See for myself if she’s all right. After I turn those damn cameras off.
“You should be more concerned who took a shot at her. Especially since he failed,” Section Chief Fowler, my boss said from the doorway, his voice edgy. “I doubt this was just a random pop at her. Rebecca is a high-level target now since her old man died and she took over the family business.” The way he said Rebecca cranked my ire up.
“When was the last attempt on Old Man Domenico?” I sat down to stake my claim in this inquiry if we were gonna be looking for who tried to kill Rebecca.
Bennett thumbed along his laptop. “I don’t even see one recorded.”
“That’s odd, right?” I voiced the question to Fowler. “She’s head of his operation less than two months and she’s already been targeted.”
“Some people don’t like women in charge,” Fowler said, brushing a hand down the back of his neck.
“That sucks for her. Because she can negotiate with someone who’s not happy. She can’t change her sex.”
“She can step down. Hand over everything to the Messinas,” my boss said, sounding like he’d prefer it that way. “Anthony Jr. was supposed to take over anyway.”
“Yeah, well...” I chose not to argue. Deep inside, I loved that the mafia world now had a queen. I found her power sexy as fuck.
“What the hell is that?” My boss pointed to the projection screen on the wall that showed an arcane-looking website with comments scrolling at an unusual speed.
Clearing my throat I said, “It’s a site we keep trying to take down. But it just ends up on another server. It’s one of the most sophisticated dark websites for hitman contracts we’ve ever seen. Which means it’s run by some savvy motherfucker.”
Fowler nodded. “This internet is going to be our downfall.”
I opened my mouth to boast some more about the good work my team had done, but my throat went bone dry seeing a new post go up. “Holy shit,” I screeched.
“What?” my boss spun around.
My eyes burned and heat flared in my body. A headline in bright red letters flashed across the projection screen.
ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLAR HIT CONTRACT. NEED SUBJECT TAKEN OUT IMMEDIATELY.
The subject:
Rebecca.
Her picture from a gala long ago appeared with a target over her. “Get a trace on that post. Now!” I yelled to Bennett.
“Tracing,” he answered.
“Trace faster!” My heart soared into my mouth and I damn near vomited on the table. In front of my team. In front of my boss. Snapping my fingers to Bennett, I said, “Fire up every camera near her house. Now.”
I took out my phone and scrolled to the number I stored without a name, just words.
Meaningful words.
A pledge made when I had a teenage crush on Becca and in awe of Anthony and Sebastien.
Semper Amici.
I cursed when it went right to voice mail, but felt relieved that her phone might be off. She couldn’t be tracked.
Giancarlo Byrne...
A hacker who gave us a run for our money. “Byrne. Where is Giancarlo Byrne?” I snapped my fingers to Bennett and Carroll, who exchanged looks. “What?” I asked them.
“He’s with her,” Carroll answered. “From what we were able to see when she got back to her townhouse.”
I breathed, holding it together. “When did he show up?”
“Didn’t. Got out of the Town Car with her. Daria and Messina too.”
“Right...” Their queen was in danger.
Circle the wagons.
“What are the hit instructions?” I asked.
“Details are encrypted,” Bennet said. “We’re working on it.”
“How long?” Fowler bit out.
“This is AES-256 encryption,” Carroll said. “Two hours, minimum.”
Great. She could be dead in two hours.
The organized crime world had operated with very little bloodshed the last decade or so. It made us rusty to figure out where a hit would go down these days.
“Look at the people telling this guy to fuck himself,” Bennett said with humor in his voice, then glanced at my boss, our section chief. “Sorry.”
“Those hitmen are smart,” Fowler said with his arms folded, looking rivetted at the screen.
This was good for me. Tracking these sites would get me promoted. Would someone show up at her house? If those bidding were so sophisticated to chew up two hours of fed encryption programs, these guys had to know where she was.
Depending on the motive, a savvy hitman could get into her townhouse right now and take out Rebecca plus Anthony Messina Jr., Sebastien Daria, and Giancarlo Byrne, wiping out four mafia bloodlines.
The city would descend into chaos.
