Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(101)

Shelby found herself swept up in the mechanics of a military-style operation. Mark dismissed everyone. Gabe ushered her into his work area and introduced her to Taylor Armstrong and Maverick Carson. They barely acknowledged her they were so engrossed at their computers.

“Are you the one watching the marina?” Gabe asked Maverick.

He nodded. “That and a couple other things. Hey, Boss,” he called out to Mark. “Fallon’s made some hefty purchases. Five brand new Cadillac Escalades seven months ago. Three F-150 cargo vans. One helicopter.”

“A helicopter?”

“Yeah. I thought that was weird, but it could do the trick.”

“Find out which airfield he hangars it at. Track the vans.”

“I’m on it.”

Shelby’s head spun with the information flying back and forth. She leaned into Gabe. “Pretend I’m new here. What exactly is a dirty bomb?”

He turned, bumping his knees with hers. “Sorry. I should’ve explained. A dirty bomb contains both conventional explosives and a radioactive agent, which in this case is weapons grade plutonium. You heard Agent Benson. With a regular bomb, you’ve got the initial blast zone. Anyone within range will die when it detonates. But add a radioactive agent to blow with the explosives, and you get a contamination zone that can reach out and touch a helluva lot more innocent people. How far it spreads depends on the force of the initial blast.”

She could almost feel the blood drain from her face. Her heart leapt into her throat. “Oh, my gosh. Like a nuclear bomb? We’re all going to die?”

He shook his head. “No. Atomic bombs depend on nuclear fission, not conventional explosives. They’re a helluva lot more powerful. The primary intent of a dirty bomb isn’t mass destruction. It’s fear and ignorance. Sure, in a city like D.C., thousands still might die from the initial blast, but the radioactive contamination is the real killer. After the fires are out, the whole District will be under a containment order. It’ll take years before anyone wants to visit again.”

An icy finger of dread walked up her spine, frosting each and every vertebra on its way into her scalp. This is so bad.

The semi-cute guy who’d creeped her out earlier with his less-than-discreet scrutiny jumped up from his chair. “Until three months ago, Fallon received fifty thousand in his bank account every week. Then the real money started to pour in. Someone’s dropping big bucks on this guy.”

“How much are we talking about, Landon?”

“One hundred thousand plus. The latest was five hundred K. Look at the date on that one.” He handed Mark a sheet of paper, pointing to the center of it. “See what I mean?”

Mark scrutinized the findings. “That’s the day Alex was shot. Where’s it coming from? Who’s bankrolling him?”

“Don’t know. Ember’s supposed to be tracking the donor,” Landon jerked his head in Ember’s direction. He sure had a snarky tone to his voice all the time.

She piped up from her workspace, not fazed in the least by Landon’s offloading the focus to her. “Sorry, Mark. No luck. Each transfer originated from an offshore account under the name Smith. John Smith.”

“Figures. Thanks guys,” Mark said. “Keep looking.”

“What can I do to help?” Shelby asked Gabe. “Everyone’s busy but me.”

He tugged the brim of her D.C. cap. “Sit there and keep me company.”

The sexy blond guy from the adjoining workstation stalked over to Ember. “Can you run these photos through your facial rec program? They’re from the traffic cams by Raymond’s Kids shelter.”

Her brows lifted. “Kelsey’s shelter?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

She accepted the papers from his hand. “Okay, Connor. It makes sense. Take a seat. It won’t take long.”

“I need to do something,” Shelby insisted. “What if I ordered pizza or sandwiches? I’ll bet everyone’s hungry. Aren’t you?”


Before Gabe could answer, Connor called out. “Got him! Mark. Everyone. Come see. You won’t believe who’s been stalking Kelsey.”

Shelby jumped up along with Gabe to go see what Connor and Ember had found. It was him. That guy from the bridge. FBI Agent Sam Becker.

Mark ended up beside Shelby. “So Becker was watching Kelsey before he took out Alex? What the hell for?”

“And get this.” Ember zoomed in on the right chest area of Becker’s shirt. “He’s been using your name. See that?” She pointed at the nametag. “He’s Mark Houston.”

“No shit?” Gabe asked, leaning over Ember’s shoulder to get a closer look. “My hell. He’s been masquerading as you?”

“Then why the hell didn’t Kelsey recognize him?” Landon asked. “You’d think she’d know who worked there. God, it’s not like she works at RFK Stadium or something. How dumb is she?”

“Who cares?” Shelby’s hackles lifted as her mouth engaged before she meant it to, but Kelsey wasn’t there to defend herself, damn it. He needed to watch what he said. “Maybe she didn’t know everyone at the shelter, but why would an FBI agent stalk her?” That doesn’t make sense. Unless... “Oh, my gosh, guys. What if he was there to protect her? What if he’s been keeping an eye on her this whole time?”