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I wondered if that was her dream date. I hoped so, because, for the sake of keeping our cover, that’s how Ashlee and I would be spending the rest of our day. I wasn’t mad about that.
“TJ,” Penn said over the team channel, “Boss, at least give Kovac a maybe on the invitation. Give us time to plan the op, run disaster scenarios, the whole nine yards.”
“Jensen,” I said. “Take my comms down to just Kessler and Ashlee.”
“Christ on toast, TJ, you’re playing with fire,” Bond said. It was as close as she would come to telling me I was out of my fucking mind in front of the team.
I didn’t doubt I’d hear a hell of a lot more from her and Penn later.
“I need to focus,” I said.
Every one of us knew that was a lie. We were all experts at getting the job done with team chatter, commands, and a metric shit-ton of expletives in our ears. The truth was, I didn’t want to listen to the pushback. One of the best things about our cohesive team was bringing together our expertise so the whole was greater than the sum of our parts. But sometimes, that led to the impression that we were all on equal footing.
We were not. I was the boss. And while their concerns about the potential fallout of a high-level HEAT operative entering the house of a foreign diplomat were valid, it would be more dangerous and potentially more devastating to the agency to ask a civilian to do our dirty work for us. If my decision had the side effect of protecting Ashlee, that was just a bonus.
And in a few hours, when I had to face the wrath of X, I would frame it to her that way and would hope she didn’t fire me on the spot.
14
TJ
Ashlee and I arrived back at HEAT headquarters at eight that evening. X was behind closed doors with Bond and Penn in the conference room beside my office.
“If X kills me, at least I got to have a real date with you first,” I whispered to Ashlee. When she widened her eyes, I shook my head. “Kidding. She won’t literally kill me… I don’t think. But I’m sure there will be hell to pay.”
Ashlee was watching the group in the conference room through the glass wall. Her eyes drifted down to the blueprints on the table, the Kovacs’ house plans, if I had to guess.
“I assume that meeting isn’t for civilians,” she said.
“Sorry,” I said, “but I promise, you’ll get briefed on the unclassified aspects of the operation tomorrow.” I desperately wanted to kiss her, but we were back in the house full of spies and my boss—who was focused on something Penn was pointing out to her on the blueprints—was just a few yards away from us. I squeezed Ashlee’s hand. “Sounds like the rest of the team is in the lounge.” The lounge door was open, and dance music thumped from the speakers at a lower-than-normal decibel level, no doubt because the uber-boss was in the building. “I’ll join you there shortly.”
By the time she reached the door, Kessler was there to welcome her into the gathering. Jensen met them on his way out the door and handed Ashlee a bright orange drink. She glanced at me and raised her eyebrows in concern, then smiled and followed Kessler into the lounge. I was shocked at how natural it was to have her here and how relieved I was that she was back under the HQ roof and surrounded by my team, who would protect her with their lives.
Jensen joined me, and we entered the conference room together. Everyone greeted me except for X, who glanced at me and looked back down at the blueprints.
“Jensen,” X said.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jensen instantly took her cue. He bent over the map and circled a large room with his finger. “I’ve been able to isolate energy output based on heat signatures, plus follow the—”
X cleared her throat.
“Anyway,” Jensen said, “this room appears to have not only a massive amount of comms and data flowing in and out of it, but the amount of energy being consumed here suggests security. Fort Knox-level security. Which I’m only saying metaphorically because we all know Fort Knox could use some better systems.”
I nodded. “If we’re going to find the data we need to prove Kovac is one of the major investors behind the Carbonados, plus find the mole in our own government who is protecting him, it should be there. What’s our plan to overcome the security system?”
“Systems, plural,” Jensen corrected. “Power outage is our best bet.”
“Generators?” X asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jensen said, “but not powerful enough to carry that load, so security will automatically drop to a lower level. It will take what would be a multi-hour, pain-in-the-ass security system hack down to five or so minutes.”
I whistled. “Impressive, Jensen. Which approach will we use?” The agency had standard plans for causing brownouts and blackouts when needed.
“The weather is supposed to cooperate, with a line of powerful thunderstorms moving through northern Virginia and DC Friday night. We’ll cause some light flickers early in the evening and progress from there. It will affect all the houses in the area that are served by a junction box a quarter of a mile from the Kovacs’. But there is a caveat.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. I stared at Jensen and waited.
“We won’t have a thorough inventory of the electronics in that room until we knock out the power and I take down the firewall,” Jensen said. “It could cause delays on the ground. Alder and I will have more details as we work through the plan this week.”
