Mind Game (GhostWalkers, #2)(91)

“In the vault. I just moved it from one box to another. They have a very secure vault, each of their researchers has access using codes and prints and keys to sensitive materials. I didn’t have time to get it out of the building. I was afraid I’d be caught, and I wanted to safeguard it. I thought it was better to let them think I smuggled it out and go back later and get it. So I moved it.”

“How’d you get past the security?” Kaden asked.

She shrugged. “I followed them in. It wasn’t that difficult. They weren’t looking for me and I jammed the cameras. I’d been doing it on and off for days so they thought they had a glitch. No one thought to look in the shadows to see if I was following them. It was more difficult getting out than getting in.”

“So now you need to break back into the building and bring the data out before they discover they still have it,” Kaden concluded.

“That’s about it,” she agreed.

“Call the secretary and set up transport, Dahlia,” Nicolas said. “We’ll go along and make certain things run smoothly. And if we’re lucky, we’ll flush out the traitor while we’re at it.”

Dahlia shook her head. “I work alone. I can’t work with anyone else. You know that, Nicolas. It’s too dangerous.”

Kaden laughed lightly. “You obviously haven’t worked with the GhostWalkers, Dahlia. The recovery is your job. We’re just going to go along to smooth the way. Don’t worry, we work well as a unit.”

Dahlia hesitated, wondering if they were railroading her. She needed time to think things through before committing herself any deeper into the company of so many others. But somehow, in spite of her misgivings, the phone was in her hand.

“I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do,” she pointed out.

“Exactly,” Nicolas said.

The men watched Tucker as she talked to Louise Charter. He was carefully looking at the screen of his laptop. “Oh, yeah. We’re being traced, people. I’ve thrown up a couple of smoke screens, just enough to keep them thinking we aren’t on to them, but they’ll find us. We already know they have a team in the area.”

“Or what’s left of it,” Nicolas said.

“Keep talking, Dahlia, let them get a good fix on us,” Kaden advised.

Dahlia scowled at him. She was unused to taking orders and especially not used to allowing enemies to pinpoint her exact location. She was a woman of the shadows, and being in a spotlight was extraordinarily uncomfortable. She looked up at Nicolas. His wide shoulders blotted out the sunlight, so that for a moment, she saw only him. He seemed invincible, a man who would never give up, never stop. She kept chatting with Louise, talking about nothing important, yet counting every second until Tucker signaled to her.

“Henderson wasn’t available, which means he was out of the office, or he would have insisted on talking to me. Louise wanted to forward my call to him, but I declined,” she explained. “So now what?”

“Now we know someone in that office is hunting you,” Kaden said.

“I knew that already. How does that narrow it down?”

“I don’t think it’s all that easy to bug the NCIS secretary’s office and trace a call,” Kaden answered. “I’d have to say we need to look very closely at the secretary.”

For some reason, the idea that Louise could be the traitor made Dahlia feel sick. She liked Louise. Maybe she didn’t know her all that well, but she liked her, and she had contact with very few people. She was beginning to believe most of the world was made up of deceivers. Part of her wanted to remain forever in the shadows. It seemed so much safer there. Out in the open, she was so much more vulnerable. She forced a small smile. “I need a little space. While you all eat, I think I’ll take a little time for myself.” She didn’t look at Nicolas when she said it. She needed space from him as well.

Dahlia went for the roof, the safest place she could think of while she sorted things out. They had little time. Either the NCIS had traced the call to ascertain her whereabouts, or someone else had done so, someone who wanted her dead. Either way, it was more than likely they would have company very quickly. She pressed her hands to her face, forcing the air through her lungs. Her life had been turned upside down in a few short days. She’d had no real time to think, or plan. She just kept moving to stay alive. She hadn’t even been able to grieve properly for Milly or Bernadette.

She felt for the familiar comfort of the amethyst spheres in her pocket. She had to focus on the mission. Before anything else, she needed clothing. Everything she owned was gone, blown up along with her home. She’d need to use the money Jesse had stashed in the safe house for clothes. She knew the importance of blending into her surroundings.

Dahlia lifted her face to the slight breeze coming in off the water and listened to the comforting sounds of the bayou. All the while she knew a part of her was waiting for Nicolas to come to her, and that frightened her more than the coming trouble. Music drifted up to her, cheery, upbeat strains of reggae. Gator began to sing. She watched as he pulled out a grill and began to prepare for a barbecue. It was strange to sit up on a roof and think that she might actually be part of something like a backyard barbecue.

Dahlia watched the men gather around Gator as he drew the outline of the small island in the dirt beside the grill with a long stick. Gator drew in the shoreline and trees. Nicolas stepped up to study it. Dahlia strained to hear them over the music. None of them seemed to care whether she heard or not as they planned what appeared to be a defense against an invasion.