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Surprise rooted Lachlan in place. “How the hell did he pull that off? And why?” He returned to his desk, easing onto his chair with a faint grimace as his left quad protested.
Roshan Haider was in the import-export business. Khan was bringing weapons into Afghanistan to sell to the highest bidder.
Was it possible Gilly’s information had been dodgy about the source of the weapons?
“Could Haider be the one supplying Khan?” Although honestly, Lachlan didn’t think the little prick had it in him. Haider led a posh life, and unlike Ryder, who’d also grown up in the elite circles of British society, the only weapons Roshan had ever wielded were his money and his mouth.
“I don’t know.” Ryder’s voice lowered as if he were trying to keep from being overheard. “It’s possible, I suppose. But I think we should assume they also discussed Nadia and Razul Sharif. Khan knows they died at the hands of the SAS. With his connections, it’s possible he’s unearthed our identities.”
Lachlan let out a harsh exhale. “If Khan does know, watch your six. What does that bastard Haider think he’s going to do with the information? Leak it to the British media? The government will file charges against him.” Roshan had spent the last two years trying to convince anyone who would listen that British special forces murdered his sister.
“There’s more. Haider left Afghanistan yesterday. I checked his flights.”
“And?” Lachlan prompted.
“He’s headed to Washington.”
Lachlan let that piece of news sink in. “You think he discovered my identity and is coming to confront me.”
“It could be a coincidence, but my gut tells me otherwise.”
Ryder had solid instincts that had served him and their troop on the battlefield more than once. Still, Lachlan didn’t consider Haider much of a threat. “I have bigger issues than Nadia’s petulant older brother. Let me know if Gilly learns anything more about Khan’s plans.”
He hung up with Ryder and assessed his options. Two weeks wasn’t enough time to identify Khan’s weapons supplier and stop the shipments. Even with Nathan’s hacking prowess and Ryder’s local contacts, he might be unable to put the pieces of the puzzle together in time.
His jaw tightened. As much as he hated to make this next move, it had to be done. He scrolled to a phone number he hadn’t called since he’d accepted the job at LAI and relocated to the States.
A low, gruff voice answered on the third ring. “You’ve been in town for a year. Nice of you to touch base finally.”
Lucas Caldwell, former US Army colonel, now FBI Assistant Director for International Operations, had put his own career with Joint Special Operations Command on the line defending Lachlan and Nathan after the hostage rescue mission disaster. Katherine Purcell’s death and Nadia’s triumphant video released by the Taliban had dominated the news worldwide and left officials in both the US and UK with egg on their faces. Not to mention the deaths of a Navy SEAL, two SAS soldiers, and an American Apache helicopter crew. It hadn’t taken long for enterprising reporters to piece together details of the classified mission and tie everything together in a proper bow.
As the junior officers in charge, Lachlan and Nathan were the easy targets. Lucas defended them, arguing the failure was an intelligence one, combined with sloppy vetting of translators. Ultimately, the US admiral who served as head of JSOC at the time agreed.
Lachlan would always be grateful, even if he’d kept his distance from Lucas since. He had enough reminders of those days. While they’d been spared an official reprimand on their service records and their names had been kept out of the press, Lachlan and Nathan hadn’t escaped the unofficial consequences that led both men to separate from active duty.
He shook off the past and focused on his current problem. “I need to meet with you. It’s urgent.”
The rustle of cellophane and click of a lighter on the other end of the line told Lachlan that Lucas hadn’t kicked his nicotine habit from his active-duty days. The Assistant Director took an audible drag on his cigarette before responding. “Something you can tell me over the phone?”
“I’d prefer not to.” He didn’t want to be seen cozying up to the FBI in case Jared found out and rightly assumed he hadn’t let the matter of Khan’s weapons auction drop. He started to suggest a discrete bar in McLean when his gaze fell on the embossed invitation still perched on the far corner of his desk.
The reception for the visiting Scottish artists. He’d agreed to be a sponsor and was now obligated to attend.
He fingered the envelope. “Can you be at the Reston Art Gallery tomorrow evening, nineteen hundred?”
“I’m assuming you want me to come alone.”
“Aye.”
“I’ll be there.” Lucas hung up.
It was a gamble, getting Lucas involved. But what if they managed to stop the weapons auction, unmask the supplier, and Coalition and Afghan leaders still didn’t go after Khan?
Lachlan massaged the headache forming at his temple. He owed it to the dead to try.
Moon-kissed flowers tickled his nose.Sophia.He dropped his hands. He had on the same suit coat he’d worn when she barreled into him on her first day at LAI. A trace of her perfume lingered on his jacket.
Lifting his sleeve, he breathed her in, his body hardening instantly.Dammit.The woman had been at LAI less than a week, and she was decorating his office and messing with his head. What was it about her? She was hardly his type, a colleague to boot, and he wasn’t even sure he could trust her.