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At the same time, Beatrice shook her head. “We don’t want to alert the British until we have to, and that will be Homeland’s job.”
Moe tapped his fingers on the table, eyeing her with a cunning grin. “You think she’s gone dark side? That this is a trick to make us think she’s been kidnapped when in reality, she’s selling out?”
“The third possibility.” Parker nodded, adding a note on her tablet.
Beatrice set the folder aside. This was one of the biggest reasons she wanted Moe on these missions—he thought outside the box and considered every option. “We have to entertain all potential scenarios, no matter how slim. She may have turned traitor, or this could be a random crime not related to her background in intelligence.”
Cal eyed her with speculation. “You don’t believe that.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. There is a three percent chance it’s random. We consider all possibilities. As soon as we stop doing that, we lose our edge and become another average security company.”
The whole group bristled, exactly as she knew they would.
Emit cleared his throat, his tone defensive. “I know Lydia. She would never sell out. Yes, she’s a lone wolf, because that’s the way she prefers it. That’s why she was such a good agent—she knew how to stay off-grid, a chameleon who could become anyone at any time and never need her own identity to come back to. A rare breed.”
Indeed.
Vivi, their resident psychologist, entered, nodding at those assembled before she took the seat to Beatrice’s left. “My preliminary psychological profile is spotty, but she falls into the category of people like us.” She pointed between herself and Beatrice. “Her IQ is a healthy 150, but it’s her ability to outthink her enemies that made her excel at undercover work.” She read down her notes. “She has a talent for negotiating, which Scotland Yard employed on several occasions. If she were in a ransom situation, she could probably cut the deal for her own release. No joke.” As if she’d been part of the previous conversation, she added, “Staying detached from the world covers her vulnerabilities. She doesn’t leave trails, nor does she allow any weakness to be exploited.”
At one time, Beatrice had wanted to do the same—stay detached. Becoming head of Shadow Force International, however, and having a family like she did now, prevented her from living and working off the grid. She knew how to cover her tracks, though, and make backdoor deals that kept everyone safe. “No matter how good you are, you trip up at some point. No man is an island and all that. Any history of dating or hookups?”
Cassandra shook her head, picking at a nail. “None. It’s like she’s a robot.”
“I assure you she’s not,” Emit countered. “Don’t assume she fits into a box. She’s unlike ninety-nine percent of the world. I know we work as intelligence gatherers, especially about clients, but in this case, you need to focus on her abductors.”
“You’re sure it’s RING?” Parker asked. “Have you contacted the authorities?”
“The first thing I did was call my friend, Jenkins, at Homeland and notify him. He handles situations involving current and former operatives who get in trouble. When he reached out to the other services, the CIA told him their top counterterrorism analyst, Julia Torrison, has been tracking RING for the past year and has a substantial file on them. Because of chatter on the dark web and other evidence she’s gathered in the last few days, she pointed the finger at Boris Romalov, RING’s leader. We have full authority from Homeland to handle this.”
“Parker, Moe, and Trace.” Beatrice pointed at each of them. “I want you on the ground in Colorado before midnight. Scour the site where she was taken, as well as her trail to get there.”
Emit spoke up. “The jet is being fueled as we speak. It will be ready when you arrive at the airport, and I’ll be here when you land. I want bodyguards for the other two members who are currently here, too. I’m not letting them leave, in case they could be targets as well.”
Cal typed on his cell. “I’ll line up a team.”
Beatrice pointed at Rory and Vivi. “You two get on Lydia’s secret life. We’ve scratched the surface, only finding what she wanted us to.” She expected Emit to protest again, but he didn’t. Good. They needed a picture of Lydia that went deeper than her blue suit. “Now we peel back the layers and uncover what she’s kept private—contacts from her previous time in the field, assets she used. Dignitaries she rubbed elbows with. Anyone she might have offended or pissed off who wants revenge. Find out who that partner she had in the nineties was and see if he or she will talk to us. Along with that, Cassandra and I will dig deeper into RING.”
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Emit said and disconnected.
Beatrice stood. “Time is of the essence, people. Let’s move.”
THREE
Parker idled with her tablet, appearing busy as the others filed out. Beatrice turned off the projector and glanced over the information Cassandra had given her, seeming slightly disgusted at the lack of anything substantial.
Once the last of the attendees were gone, Moe throwing Parker a glance over his shoulder, she went to the door and closed it, leaning against the steel door. “Moe needs to stay here until he’s got his head on straight. Make him go see Vivi.”
Beatrice glanced up, then stuck the paper into the manila folder. “You’re asking for a miracle, both about him talking to her, as well as getting his head on straight. I’m not sure that’s possible. Why don’t you want him on this?”
“Poor decision making and problem solving, to start with. He couldn’t even figure out what to have for breakfast this morning.” Plus, he’d once again refused to spend the entire night with her. She’d been planning to force him to stay tonight, but that wasn’t happening now. “He’s been distracted ever since the Concordia Group takedown.”
Beatrice leaned back in her chair, focusing her full attention on Parker. Those blue eyes were lasers—when they zeroed in on you, you felt like you were in the hot seat regardless of whether you were discussing the weather or an op. “Is this about him, or is it about you?”
Parker held her stare, even though the hot seat just went nuclear. Her pulse quickened, but she kept her emotions locked down, face passive. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
“How long have you known him?”
Diversion.Classic. Sometimes being a cognitive scientist has drawbacks—you knew when people were engineering their own agenda. “You know exactly how long.”
