Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(93)
“But it doesn’t really matter why Billingsworth was killed,” he continued. “All we need to know now is who you were working for. Because even though you may have orchestrated Billingsworth’s death to cover up some sort of scandal on you or your husband’s part, your boss has to have decided to go to bat for you since the instant you pointed the CIA toward my PO box,” and he really wished he’d thrown those files away or else been far more careful to make sure no one ever followed him when he made a deposit in said PO box, “and the instant my Burn and Delete notice came over the wires, The Project was finished.”
Her eyes flickered again. The skin of her cheeks tightening. And for a second he was confused. What was…?
There was something there. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, her voice shaking. He had to fight not to roll his eyes. “Yes, I wrote that thesis. But I have no idea about the rest of it.”
“Ozzie,” he interrupted, and the kid stepped forward. “Will you read from the document containing the specifics of Rwanda Don’s,” continuing to use her code name was the third step in his strategy, “dismissal from the CIA.”
And hadn’t that little bit of intel been a punch in the gut? He’d been recruited by the CIA, trained by the CIA, but who the hell had been running his operations all these years? Who the hell had tapped Donna Ward after The Company axed her? And who the hell had burned him? The NSA?
“Dr. Donna Ward,” the kid read aloud from the dossier in his hand, and Rock watched Dr. Ward’s eyes flick down to the stack of papers, “is hereby terminated by the Central Intelligence Agency for conduct unbecoming. Her ideas and theories are considered subversive and destructive. She has no respect for the authority of this institution and is therefore deemed unfit for continued employment. Her security clearances, from this day forth, are terminated. She is to be considered—”
“That’s enough,” Rock cut in, catching the slight color change in Donna Ward’s cheeks. Her blood pressure was rising. Getting sacked from The Company really burned her. “So we know you’re no longer with the CIA. They were too smart to keep you on. They knew you were a loose cannon.” Poke, poke, poke. Just like he’d been taught. “But, that begs the question, who are you workin’ for now? NSA? Who’s crazy enough to employ you and—”
He saw her break right before she strained against Boss’s arm, saw the look on her face morph from doe-eyed innocence to an unattractive snarl. “What makes you think I need the government’s help?” she hissed, veins standing out in her neck, eyes bulging. “After those idiots at the CIA rescinded funding for The Project and terminated my employment, I just kept at it on my own, running the operations myself. I did it all myself! And it was good work! Those men needed to die. They were filth! They were—”
She was screaming now, and Rock looked up at Boss, nodding. The big guy slapped a wide palm over her mouth as she continued to try to spew her insanity. But other than her muffled curses, the bathroom was dead silent.
No one moved; no one spoke. Everybody was stunned by the bomb she’d dropped.
So…he hadn’t been doing ultra-black work for an ultra-clandestine branch of the government. Non. He’d been operating on the orders—kidnapping and interrogating American citizens—of a crazy civilian psychologist. Which meant he was exactly what they’d accused him of being…a rogue operator. The only difference was he’d been duped into the role.
Mon dieu. He couldn’t breathe; the bathroom was spinning. But then he felt a reassuring hand at the small of his back, Vanessa, and he knew he had to pull his shit together. Now there were more questions that needed answers.
Swallowing, his mind racing, he asked, “Who did you get your information on these men from? You couldn’t have come upon their files on your own.”
Boss lifted a brow, and he nodded, giving the big guy permission to remove his hand from her mouth.
“Not everybody within The Company thought my ideas were subversive and destructive,” Donna Ward whispered, all the fight having suddenly drained from her body. She was caught; she knew it. So now was the time to play to her second weakness, the fact that she thought her actions righteous and just.
“You had an accomplice?”
“I like to call him a partner,” she said.
“Was he the one who took that shot at me down in Costa Rica?” he asked, feeling the weight of the consequences he was going to face for having been a part of her crazy scheme pressing down on his shoulders. But he’d deal with that later. For now, he needed to get all the information from her he could.
“No,” she shook her head. “That would be the hit man he hired. But it was for the greater good, Rock.” She looked at him imploringly, and it appeared her delusions knew no bounds. “Can’t you see that? I needed to clean house, tie up loose ends so The Project had a chance of going on some day. Surely you can understand how badly we need to keep fighting, keep taking out those animals.” She shook her head, another tear slipping from her wide eyes to roll down her cheek. “If only Billingsworth hadn’t started asking me questions about the money, and if you hadn’t started asking questions about Billingsworth, none of this would’ve happened.”