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The recruits settled into the house easily and by dinner that evening they were debriefing casually at the table, beers and wine at their side. When Dallas brought up the surveillance of the supply depots in foreign military bases, however, the conversation turned serious.
“The Brotherhood is tapping the military?” Rachel asked, the disbelief in her voice plain.
Dallas nodded. “We’ve been able to use the existing setup to tap into several systems. We’re erasing every day’s communiques unless it has something to do with the drug distribution ring.”
"How'd you do it?" Gavin took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair. He seemed relaxed and Rachel eyed him with pleasure. He wore a loose button-up shirt, open at the neck and untucked over jeans. He looked every bit the guy next door, if the neighbor had short dark hair and eyes that could bore through you and warm you from the inside out. He caught her looking at him and smiled at her, his face lighting up. Rachel looked down at her own beer, picking at the label as she listened.
“Swede,” Dallas said simply. “He’s good and he’s getting a crew that is just as good. Hank is serious about this.”
“As we all are. But, as serious as we are, so are the leaders of this cartel. Obviously,” the Senator gestured toward Rachel and Gavin seated near him, “the three of us have had some close calls. It has to stop before someone else gets hurt or worse.”
Bear propped his forearms on the table and leaned into them. “You got any leads?”
The Senator shook his head. “Nothing. I’ve interviewed every top official I can get access to in the Pentagon, no one knows or is willing to admit they know anything about the drug ring.
And I’m getting flack from the senior officials both in the Pentagon and in the Senate. They want this thing kept quiet.”
“Until after the election?” Dallas sneered and the Senator arched a brow. “Sorry,” she said.
“No need to apologize for the obvious. You’re right. The politicians want it kept quiet until after the election, and that will run into the midterm and so on. The military personnel want it kept quiet for a couple of reasons. They don’t have a clue what’s going on and they’re embarrassed about that. Think of it. A couple of civilian security agencies and the DEA have more information about their organization than they do.” Mitchell rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m running on a treadmill that’s set in reverse.”
“Well, we need to figure out a few things,” Gavin said and set his bottle down. “One, can we cut off the supply chain? Two, do we have access to mid-level people who will name names? And three—”
"Three, we need to find at least one higher-level drug leader and stop this mess," Rachel said and plunked her bottle down. The label lay on the table in one neat square, no tears, no fraying. She stood and walked to the refrigerator. "I know there's at least one pie in here. I think better with pie."
She pulled three pies from the fridge and began cutting them. Mrs. Finch, who'd retired after setting out the buffet-style meal had whispered about the dessert before she left. "Be sure Gavin gets a slice of the caramel pie," she'd whispered to Rachel. Now, as she sliced the pies, she examined the warm brown surface of the pie in question. He liked caramel, huh?
Ideas were shared and discarded as the group ate pie, drank coffee, and settled in for the night. As they climbed the stairs, Gavin cupped Rachel's elbow and drew her to a stop. "You think we can find the higher level?” His tone, while polite and interested, also held a hint of disbelief. She leaned against the wall and watched as the others filed past them, heading for their own rooms. Dallas shot her a look over her shoulder and Rachel wondered what it would be like to work with another woman on this assignment.
“I know it’s a long shot but think about it. The attacks on the Senator have increased in intensity and in frequency. We’re making progress even if we don’t see it. And progress means we’re reaching higher levels of the drug ring. We have to be or they wouldn’t be exposing themselves this way.”
Gavin stared into space then looked back at her and smiled. “You’re right. We are making progress. I’ll see you in the morning.” He glanced a kiss across her lips and headed toward his room. Rachel’s breath, finally in shape after the strychnine scare, caught in her throat. What had that been?
CHAPTER6
Gavin poureda second cup of coffee and returned to the kitchen table as Mrs. Finch walked into the room. “Gavin? You been up all night?” she said as she flipped on the overhead light. The small circle of light shining on the laptop from the pendant light disappeared and he set the cup down before turning to the housekeeper. “No, just got up early.”
“I’d say.” She glanced out at the dim dawn light filtering through and retrieved eggs and milk from the refrigerator. “You need more rest. You don’t want to be back in bed for several days.”
“I’m fine. The side effects of the poisoning are gone,” he prevaricated. While he did feel eighty percent better, his muscles still ached and he could use a day or two in the sun without any worries but that wouldn’t be happening soon. He turned to the laptop, bringing his cup to his mouth. Mrs. Finch gave him a look that said she didn’t believe his statement then started opening cabinet doors. “You okay with working in here while I cook breakfast?”
He nodded absently, as his mind was already on his task, reviewing the communications taps in the Senate building. He'd been delayed by the forced bed rest and murder but there you had it. Life, or death, in this case, got in the way sometimes.
He'd been at work a few minutes when Rachel walked in the room, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore leggings and a tight-fitting sports top, a fine sheen of perspiration dotting her forehead. Dallas followed her, equally outfitted but the trim auburn-haired woman did nothing for Gavin’s libido. The slightly curvier Rachel, however, sent his pulse racing. “Been working out?”
She nodded and accepted a bottled water from Mrs. Finch who berated her for exercising so soon after the “incident”, “It’s good to get back into the swing of things. And I ran into Dallas this morning in the gym.” She grinned at the other woman, “We had a race.”
Dallas, chugging her own water came up for air and huffed a laugh. “If you’re out of practice remind me not to race you when you’re in top form.”
Rachel came to stand beside Gavin and peer at the computer screen. “Is that the program you installed earlier?”
He nodded and pointed at a couple of entries. “I may have something, but I need to backtrack the trail.”
When their eyes met he could see the excitement mirrored in her own and a little more. Had his impulsive kiss the night before given her something to think about? "I'm going to take a quick shower. Fill me in when I get back." She wheeled and left the room, patting Dallas on the arm as she did.
The slender woman came and sat at the counter between Mrs. Finch and Gavin, watching each of them equally as she finished her water. She'd tossed the bottle into the recycling bin when Vince walked into the room dressed in workout clothes. "You ready, babe?"
She nodded and they headed out the door. Gavin turned his attention back to the laptop.
