“Yes, but the drone hit was never mentioned.”
“Where’s he keeping the drone?” They’d done something to the tracking system when they took it. Something incredibly sophisticated to disable it.
Vane snorted. “I have no idea. I don’t even think Osborn knows.”
Tucker hoped Karen was already running info on Osborn. If the aide to a potential presidential candidate was involved, there was no telling how far this thing went. “Where do your meetings take place?”
He paused, but sighed as he answered, “One of his places. I tried to run the information on the owner from work once and it’s not under his name.”
“Give me the address.”
Vane shook his head, his breathing erratic once again. “No. You still need me and I’m not fucking stupid. I’m not giving you everything now. I need some assurances that you’re not going to kill me.”
“Fair enough. . . .” He’d let Burkhart get that out of him. Finding that out wasn’t part of Tucker’s role in this. “Why’d you pick me and my guys to set up?” Tucker figured he knew the answer but wanted to hear it. Everything to this point was pretty damn condemning, but he wanted Vane to completely hang himself with his confession. It would be a pleasure to watch his face later when they played back all they’d recorded.
His jaw hardened, that barely concealed hatred shining through in his eyes. “Because fuck you all, that’s why.” His eyes were glassy now, his face gray. Maybe the blood loss was making him ballsy, because the statement took Tucker off guard.
Cole moved behind Vane, as if to strike him, but Tucker held up a hand. “How’d you do it? Getting our security clearances revoked would take some serious skill. And we know you laid some other groundwork to get it publicized that we’re terrorists. What we can’t figure out is how you did it.” More lies, but he wanted a complete confession.
Despite being restrained to a chair with a broken nose and bleeding hand, Vane looked positively smug. “That was Max’s problem. He always underestimated me. I got your security clearance revoked. Me. No one else. Watched that bitch type her code in and that wasn’t easy,” he growled, clearly talking about Paula Jacobs. At least they knew how he’d gotten the other agent’s code now.
He snarled, continuing, as some of the color returned to his cheeks, though Tucker guessed it was just Vane’s rage. “And I laid a perfect trail to offshore bank accounts that led to you four morons!” His eyes had gone wild as he apparently dropped some of his need for self-preservation. “Not too obvious, but unless the forensics team on you guys are complete fucking morons, they’ll find it. You four always thought you were better than me. Now your lives are destroyed. Because of me!”
Tucker hauled back and slammed his fist into Vane’s nose again. He screamed, twisting and instinctively trying to move his hands to hold his nose.
Ignoring him, Tucker stood and walked out. He’d heard enough. “You get all that?” he murmured once he’d left the room.
“Every word,” Karen said. Her voice was neutral and he hated that he didn’t know what she was thinking. He worried she was disgusted by him now. Or worse, afraid of him. He wasn’t sorry for the way he’d gotten Vane to talk, but he was sorry she’d had to hear him. “A four-person team is about to enter the residence through the front door.”
“Affirmative.” Before he’d finished the word, the front door swung open.
Burkhart, Selene, Ortiz, and Freeman strode in. Vane was going to be beyond pissed when he learned that everything he’d said had been recorded. Would it legally stand up in court? It didn’t matter at this point. Vane was screwed and would be facing serious jail time one way or another.
The fact that Burkhart was here would show Vane how deep a hole he was going to be thrown into. Burkhart would act as a lifeline of sorts. He was the only one able to actually negotiate with Vane as far as a lesser sentence went. How much Vane cooperated from this point forward would go a long way in how things went down for him. If he helped them capture Hillenbrand along with whoever else was working with them, Burkhart would “help” him get a plea deal.
“The van’s out front. They’ll pick you up,” Burkhart said, dismissing Tucker and Cole.
Tucker exited with Cole right next to him. He glanced around the still-quiet neighborhood, glad to note there was no activity. A nondescript oversize van waited at the curb, the engine so quiet he wouldn’t have been sure it was even running if not for the exhaust. When they reached the back doors, one of them opened up. An armed man in black fatigues motioned for them to enter. As soon as they were inside, it started moving. Though it was small, there was enough room for the five of them to fit comfortably enough. There were six giant computer screens covering the walls, three on each side.
Karen and Elliott sat at two computer consoles. Seeing her was a relief to Tucker’s senses. The agent thankfully took a seat next to Elliott, leaving three seats open. Tucker took the seat next to Karen, not surprised when Cole sat on the other side of him.
But he ignored his friend for now, swiveling the small chair to face her.
She shot a glance at Elliott and the other guy before turning back to him. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she murmured. Her expression and tone were soft.
The statement took him off guard. “That was a piece of cake,” he said just as quietly. He’d never thought about his size one way or another before, but right now he hated how big he was. He wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t a dangerous monster, but wasn’t sure how to do that with an audience.
She looked as if she wanted to say more, those gorgeous lips of hers opening but snapping shut just as quickly.
What he wouldn’t give to be alone with her right now, to tell her that everything he’d done had been an act. In his periphery he could see that the other two men weren’t paying attention and he didn’t care if Cole was, so he covertly took Karen’s hand, stroking her palm with his thumb.
She swallowed hard as she watched him but curled her fingers around his. He knew only seconds had ticked by, but it felt as if it were an eternity as he stared into her green eyes. He could seriously drown in that gaze. The woman had become an addiction, one he wasn’t giving up.
When they hit a bump in the road, she seemed to gather herself and quickly pulled her hand back. She turned to her computer. “We’re headed to . . . an undisclosed location. The others will be behind us pretty soon if Vane cooperates.”
Tucker wanted to ask questions but knew it was pointless. If she’d been able to tell him where they were going, she would have. The last thing he wanted to do was put Karen in an awkward position, so he simply nodded and leaned back in his chair.
Vane’s coerced confession alone might not be enough to clear him and his guys, but now that they had so much info on him, all his dirty deeds were going to come to light very soon. For the first time in days Tucker experienced a serious relief that they were about to get cleared.
Chapter 18
Soup sandwich: military in origin. Used to reference a screwed-up situation or an unsatisfactory performance.
“Talk,” Cole murmured.
Tucker glanced around the undisclosed location, which turned out to be a spacious warehouse in the heart of D.C. The security on the outside was no joke, though. Cameras, armed guards, and at least one sniper positioned on a nearby rooftop. There were a dozen men and women quietly milling about the place, some working on computers, others laying out weapons and tactical gear on tables. It was odd to be on the fringe of this. He and Cole were so used to being in the fray on any op. He hated feeling useless.