Intercepted Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 5) Read online

  The working plan was for Logan to get this Oliver Reid guy alone, at which point the others would swoop in as back-up and quietly escort the target into custody. It was simple, and yet Logan knew how easily this could all go south.

  Who was Skilton? What was he after? Why was this task force put together to stop him? Or was he merely another rung on the ladder?

  That last question he hadn’t dared to voice, not when Zora had sunk her teeth into Skilton. The way she talked, Skilton had always been the goal, but they hadn’t known his name last month. So what were they doing?

  From the beginning, Zora had made it clear they were after a threat to the country that was worse than anything they’d faced thus far.

  So many questions and not a single answer.

  Logan squinted at the monitors. A group of three men entered the building. Kelsey had said this particular meeting was for five, but that didn’t mean they would all arrive together. Too bad he couldn’t improve the picture quality. He rocked back on his heels while the trio signed in and began going through the security process.

  Someone should really do something about the glare on the camera.

  The three men proceeded toward the metal detectors and out of the pool of bright light. There was no rush in the way they moved. One turned his head, casually chatting with the others.

  The light gleamed off a bald head.

  Oliver Reid was five nine with hazel eyes and bald.

  He was here.

  “Sorry, man. Got to head out.” Logan squeezed the security guard’s shoulder.

  “No problem. Thanks for stopping by. Happy holidays,” he called over his shoulder.

  “You, too,” Logan muttered.

  The skin between his shoulder blades itched. He wished he had the use of comms, but that would raise too many questions with his new coworkers. Instead he stepped out of the security office and pulled out his phone, firing off a quick message in the secure app they’d agreed to use for communicating.

  They didn’t yet know what Oliver Reid’s objective was. Killing the senator in his own office mid-meeting seemed drastic, and yet they couldn’t rule it out. Not after what they’d seen the last few months. And if Skilton was behind it all, then Logan couldn’t rule out the very real threat of assassination.

  Best-case scenario, they got Oliver into custody with no fuss and he answered all their questions. If possible, they wrapped this gig up today and were off to deal with Skilton directly. Logan doubted it would be that easy, but a guy could hope.

  He tapped the camera app, using it to watch over his shoulder as the trio were admitted into the building. They moved together, talking in low voices.

  Or more accurately, the two men Oliver was with talked while he kept pace with them. Under normal circumstances, Logan probably wouldn’t have given the guy a second look. Beyond the bald head, Oliver was an average looking guy. The difference was in how he looked around, or didn’t look.

  The man was aware of everything. That awareness bled into how he carried his body, the way he walked and how he didn’t engage with his companions.

  Chances were he’d already spotted Logan and identified him as private security.

  What to do?

  Someone like that would be immediately suspicious.

  Logan couldn’t let this guy close to the senator. Or Kelsey. He had to handle it now, before she got involved.

  He waited a few moments before ambling after the trio.

  How was he going to get Oliver away from the others and alone?

  It was something they’d discussed last night in preparation for today. Only Kelsey had ideas for that, and only half her usual tricks were possible for Logan.

  There was the tried-and-true method of pretending the guy dropped something, but Logan didn’t want to get on the other two men’s radar. Which meant getting Oliver’s attention covertly.

  Why was this so damn hard?

  If Logan had to get into a secure site covertly, he knew what he was doing. But this? This was beyond him, and yet infinitely more simple.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  Suddenly Oliver said something to the other two men. It was the first interaction Logan had witnessed. He paused and watched as his target peeled away from his companions and ducked into the men’s restroom.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Logan muttered.

  It could not be that easy.

  Hey, it was the holidays. Maybe this was his gift from the universe?

  He slowed his pace, creeping toward the door.

  Did the guy really need to take a leak? Or was this part of his plan? Could Oliver be preparing to see his mission through? Or was there a chance he knew he was being followed? Could Logan be walking into a trap?

  One thing was certain: there weren’t cameras in the bathroom.

  Logan pressed his hand to the door and as gently as possible opened it. He quickly stepped inside and guided the door shut so as to avoid any thud to alert the other man to his presence.

  He stood still, but the bathroom was completely silent.

  Oliver must know he was there. The question was, could Oliver be waiting for Logan? Or had Logan caught him unaware?

  What was the best thing to do?

  Act normal, right?

  Kelsey would know the correct course of action.

  Logan proceeded forward carefully, keeping as much distance between him and the privacy partition as possible. If Oliver was going to waylay him, he’d do it there.

  Logan caught his reflection in the mirrors.

  No Oliver.

  Logan stared down the length of the bathroom.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was truly alone.

  Logan didn’t like the idea of pretending to use the urinal and how exposed that could leave him. Instead, he strolled down the line of stalls.

  The very last one was shut.

  He turned into one at random.

  Still no noise.

  Well, shit.

  He unzipped his fly for the sake of the noise, cleared his throat and jostled his trousers before perching on the very edge of the toilet seat. If he had to sell it, he was doing his part. He sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and peered through the cracks in the door.

  How ridiculous was this horse and pony show?

  Should he have gone straight to the target? Waited in the hall? Would it be better to draw his weapon and have the showdown here and now?

  The seconds ticked on.

  Logan pulled out his phone. Other than an affirmative that the others had received his update, there was no news.

  Should he update the others? What the hell should he tell them? Playing possum in the toilet?

  Kelsey wouldn’t hesitate to do something. The problem was that Logan didn’t know what he should be doing.

  Before he could overthink it, he tapped Kelsey’s name and started tapping out a message to her and her alone.

  Followed into men’s restroom. We’re both waiting the other out in a stall.

  Logan hit send, then thought better of it and added one more line.

  Thoughts on next move?

  He knew it wasn’t terribly likely she’d be able to see these and reply, but he could hope. The senator’s staff were kept on a tight leash, and Kelsey had somehow gotten herself into the thick of it all.

  A foot scuffed the tile.

  Logan lifted his head and listened.

  There was the slightest rustling of fabric.

  Was Oliver making a move?

  Logan’s screen lit up.

  He glanced down at the message from Kelsey.

  Wait him out. Make him move first. He has a time constraint, not you. He’ll be ready for you to make a move, but he won’t expect you to have back-up.

  Huh.

  Waiting was the best option.

  Logan nodded despite her inability to see the move.

  He felt better with her guidance. This was, after all, her specialty
.

  The rest of his team must be moving in. That was good. Between himself and the others, they’d take Oliver down quick and get him out fast. Then Kelsey could cover his ass, say she sent him out for something so he didn’t get in trouble the first week on his new job.

  The seconds ticked by.

  Oliver’s appointment with the senator was fast approaching. Would he be late? Miss it?

  Logan’s gut tightened. Everything in him wanted to act now, but he remained where he was. Kelsey cautioned patience.

  At long last, a man coughed, and a toilet flushed.

  Logan used that opportunity to stand, pocket his phone and zip his fly. Before the sound completely faded, he turned the door handle, but kept a tight grip on the latch. A zip of electric awareness coursed through him.

  It was time to make a move.

  Finally.

  A figure passed the stall quickly before Logan could glimpse more than the sheen off a very bald head.

  Logan stepped out of the stall, acutely aware of the gun pressed against his side.

  Oliver reacted immediately, whirling toward Logan and slashing out with a knife. Training kicked in. Logan struck out, blocking the man’s attack with his arm. Adrenaline surged, making his temples pound while his mind focused his awareness down to only Oliver. Logan lost no time throwing a solid punch into the guy’s side. Oliver grunted and stared into Logan’s eyes with rage. Oliver’s face twisted into a snarl. He kicked out, connecting with Logan’s calf.

  Pain shot up Logan’s leg.

  Oliver twisted his right arm, breaking out of Logan’s grasp. The knife gleamed in the bright, florescent lights, cold and deadly. In many ways, a man armed with a knife who knew how to use it was more dangerous than a gun.

  Logan staggered back, putting distance between them.

  He had to end this before some random person walked in and got caught up in this There wasn’t time to wear the guy down. It needed to happen now.

  Where the hell was the rest of Logan’s team? Shouldn’t the guys be here already?

  “Who the fuck are you?” Oliver demanded.

  Logan kept his gaze on the target while counting off the stalls in his mind. He’d gone over every public inch of the building, committing every nook, cranny and imperfection to mind for exactly this moment right here.

  Oliver lunged toward Logan.

  Logan yanked the broken stall door, swinging it out into the walkway, and braced it with his forearm. Oliver barreled into the metal door, knife first. The blade clattered to the floor. Logan quickly kicked the weapon away, toward the toilets. A poorly aimed punch glanced off his shoulder.

  Where were the others? How long did it take to get inside?

  One last shove on the door sent Logan staggering back as Oliver’s feet thudded on the tile.

  He was running.

  Logan shoved the door shut and bolted after the smaller man. One stride and he was almost on the target. Oliver glanced at the mirror, his face twisted into rage and panic. Another stride and Logan grabbed the back of the man’s sport coat and spun, flinging Oliver toward the vanity.

  The bathroom door creaked open.

  Logan shoved Oliver’s head down, cracking his skull against the porcelain sink. Logan flinched at the sound, but didn’t hesitate to use the momentary surprise to yank Oliver’s arm up behind his back.

  “What’s taking you so long?” Kelsey groused.

  Logan whipped his head around and gaped at Kelsey dressed in today’s slacks, creamy blouse with the frilly bow under her chin and matching vest. She pushed a large trashcan in ahead of her.

  “What the fuck are you doing in here?” Logan demanded.

  Kelsey arched a brow, then kicked the trashcan toward him. “Backing you up. Has he said anything?”

  He peered over her shoulder. “Where are the guys?”

  “Waiting outside.” Kelsey closed the distance between them and pulled a pair of FlexiCuffs out from under her vest. They were essentially disposable plastic ties used in place of regular handcuffs.

  “Let me go and we can all walk away from this,” Oliver said.

  “I thought the guys were going to come inside,” Logan said slowly, keeping a tight hold on his frustration.

  “Why?” Kelsey frowned at him and held out the first cuff.

  He opened and closed his mouth.

  “Hand,” Kelsey said. “Oliver Reid, whatever your real name is, you have the right to remain silent. You have a bunch of other rights someone else will make clear to you. Yadda yadda, we are running out of time. Get him in the trash can.”

  Oliver didn’t struggle when Kelsey fastened the cuffs on his wrists. He scowled at both of them in the mirror.

  “Make sure to tell the others to properly Mirandize him.” Kelsey stepped back and gestured at the trash can. “Check his pockets, too.”

  “His—what?” Logan muttered.

  Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Pockets.”

  When he didn’t move, she stepped in close. Logan tightened his hold on Oliver and pulled him to stand upright while Kelsey searched his pockets.

  “Did he have a weapon?” she asked.

  “A knife.”

  “Huh. I guess that’s why you came in here then?” Kelsey tipped her chin up and looked at Oliver. “You needed your knife?”

  Fuck.

  Logan hadn’t considered that. A knife like the one Oliver had would be detected. So the plan had been to enter the bathroom all along then. And do what?

  “Here’s his phone, wallet and notebook. Get him in the trashcan. I’ll get the knife.” Kelsey yanked a paper towel out of the dispenser.

  “Third stall from the end,” Logan said over his shoulder.

  Just what new hell had he gotten himself into?

  He should have put in his notice. He should not be here doing these absurd things.

  Was he really going to put a suspect in a trash can? Did he have any other choice?

  He was pretty certain any and all power of choice had sailed weeks ago. Probably the day they pulled Kelsey out of that hell-hole.

  Logan was, in short, screwed.

  THURSDAY. UNKNOWN.

  Skilton leaned back against the plush leather. The plane vibrated and shuddered with a touch of turbulence, but that was to be expected. Another eight hours and he’d be in DC.

  All of his plans were in place. Things were going smoothly.

  Hell, he might actually get to enjoy this little trip. It had been a while since he’d been in the field like this. Once he’d craved it.

  Age changed things.

  He was better behind a desk, anyway.

  “Um, sir?”

  What now?

  Skilton wanted to grumble, but he kept his frustration to himself and pealed one eye open. He’d brought a new assistant with him. Someone with no connections. Someone who couldn’t yet be on anyone’s payroll.

  “What?” Skilton asked.

  “We received a communication from one of the assets on the task force.” The young man’s throat flexed. He held out a tablet.

  “What is it?” Skilton took the device.

  Just what was this so-called task force doing, anyway? What tree were they barking up now?

  He skimmed the first line and his blood went cold.

  Skilton sat up and re-read them to himself. “I regret to inform you that the asset operating under the name of Oliver Reid has been compromised. I’ve taken measures to corrupt the data on his cell phone. I cannot as of yet ensure his silence yet. I await further instructions.”

  Anger spiked hot then cold.

  Skilton flung the tablet into the seat across from him, curses sticking in his throat.

  The new assistant—what was his name?—cowered, shrinking back from him.

  Damn it.

  Skilton closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  The fools must have ignored his orders to dump old identities. This was going to be a problem. Especially if Obran had rolled over on Skilton. H
e hadn’t thought the forger would do such a thing. Why had he waited? What did they have on the old man to get him to turn like this? Was loyalty worth nothing anymore?

  Skilton beat his fist on the arm rest. It was the only expression of anger he allowed himself.

  This could be handled. He could still manage this.

  How would Obran have known what identities to warn the Americans about?

  The forger had created hundreds of credentials for Skilton and others over the years. Maybe thousands. How could he have known to pull that exact name?

  If Skilton didn’t know better, he’d have thought it was the hacker child, Valentino, at fault here. But he’d ensured her death. Oh, she’d done her best to mask her identity, but in the end Skilton had learned who was the real power behind the name and it wasn’t her idiot brother.

  Could it be the brother?

  Damn.

  Skilton needed more information. How was it he was suddenly so behind on this?

  It was time to pay this task, force some attention and make them wish they’d ignored his dark corner of the world.

  5.

  Thursday. Senate Office Building. Washington, DC.

  Kelsey kept her eyes on her desk. She was expected to clean of anything personal before she left. The only things allowed to remain were the monitor and a few essentials too big to store in the slim drawers of the ultra-modern desk.

  What a pain.

  It also meant that the flowers that had been delivered to her that afternoon couldn’t stay. In fact, she’d gotten a stern talking to when they arrived. Who didn’t let their employees keep a vase of flowers on their desk?

  Talk about a killjoy. She was beginning to understand why there were so many vacancies.

  She didn’t yet know if the order came from the senator or his chief of staff, but one of them really needed to remove the stick from their ass. At this rate, they’d always be filling one position or another.

  Then again, the senator was working out of his home office tomorrow and she’d been hand selected to assist with tomorrow’s work-from-home day. It seemed unusual to her, but what did she know about how senators operated? Besides, there wasn’t a lot of activity going on, what with other offices trickling back in after Thanksgiving.