Page 36

CHAPTER 36

R aven considered going with Jake back to the bomb site. But her specialty was historical artifacts, so she knew she wouldn’t be much help. Instead, she stayed at the headquarters.

There was something she needed to do anyway, and this would be the perfect opportunity.

Ty had given her permission to use an extra office at Blackout. He showed her which hallway to use to get to the exit door in case she needed him for some reason.

As she sat at the empty desk with the white walls around her, she pulled out her phone, set it on top of the metal desk, and stared at it.

She knew what she needed to do—she just didn’t want to.

She hadn’t talked to her dad in nine months. Even at Christmas, he hadn’t texted her to say happy holidays. But she hadn’t texted him either, so she supposed it went both ways.

He’d called her the next day instead.

Since he’d gotten remarried to a woman with a large family, he’d changed. He’d told Raven he’d gotten caught up with his new family’s Christmas celebration and had forgotten to call.

He’d been apologetic. But his action had spoken volumes.

Her dad wanted to put the tragedy of Raven’s mom’s death behind him—and that included putting Raven behind him. He’d started fresh and didn’t want reminders of his pain. At least, that was her perception.

Raven had spent Christmas alone. Part of that was her own choosing. Friends had invited her over. She even had some distant relatives she could have called.

But she’d chosen to stay alone in her hurt.

Not to feel sorry for herself. But to try and heal.

Her throat tightened at the memories.

She stared at her cell phone. As the saying went, she needed to bite the bullet.

She drew a deep breath before dialing his number. It was just past ten in Syria, but her father didn’t usually go to bed until eleven. At least, that was the way he had been.

As the phone started to ring, her doubt that he would answer grew.

But after the fourth ring, someone picked up.

She held her breath as she waited to hear the voice on the other end. “Raven?”

“Hi, Dad.” Her voice almost sounded flat, which wasn’t what she intended. Yet there was no way she could sound warm toward him either.

“What a surprise.”

She crossed an arm over her chest, her body tense as she gripped the phone. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“I just got back from dinner. What’s going on? Or are you calling just to catch up?”

Her life would look a lot different if she and her father had a relationship where she just called to catch up.

“I actually have a question for you.” She told him about the situation—about the bombs made to look like historical relics. About the picture of the Syrian embassy.

He made affirming sounds here and there, letting her know he was listening.

But as soon as she mentioned the word Sigma, he went quiet.

He knew something, Raven realized. Her pulse quickened.

She waited for him to share.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he finally said.

Frustration welled in her. “You know something, don’t you? Dad, I really need to know?—”

“All I know is that it sounds like you’re in a bad situation.” His words sounded quiet and rushed. “You need to be very careful.”

“Who are these guys? Are they coming after me specifically?”

“I can’t tell you that. But you need to stay out of this.”

“Dad . . . if you know something, you need to tell me.”

Someone called to him in the background. “I have to go. But, please, listen to me. Get as far away from this situation as you can. Please.”

Before they could talk anymore, the line went dead.

Raven stared at the phone a moment and frowned.

What wasn’t he telling her?

Was the reason he was being quiet a matter of national security? Or was there another motive?

Had her dad gotten caught up in something he shouldn’t have? Was Raven now a target because of it?

Colton walked with Jake to the bomb site. Jake had wanted a moment alone with his superior to talk through things, so he jumped on the opportunity.

Though Ty had shared some while Raven was there, Jake knew his colleagues would share more without her present.

“So, Ty says there are no leads,” Jake started.

Colton’s jaw twitched. “Not really.”

Jake kept his steps steady. “I assume you checked the security footage?”

“We did. We didn’t see anything. But, of course, the area where the bomb was left isn’t covered by the cameras.”

“Convenient . . . almost like somebody knew that.” The words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

His gaze darkened. “Exactly. I’m certain that area was covered by the security feed when we set it up.”

Jake’s thoughts continued to race. “How serious is this information that was stolen?”

“We’re still trying to get to the bottom of that.” Colton’s steely gaze remained hard.

They reached the site, and Jake stared at the spot where the bomb had ignited.

Flashbacks of yesterday hit him, and a quiver rippled through his muscles.

He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. Right now, he needed to concentrate on finding answers, not on reliving what could have been a disaster.

“I know you know this already,” Jake started. “But the person who’s doing this is talented, very skilled, and highly experienced with explosives.”

“If that’s true, we can narrow our suspects down to the men who came in with you.”

Jake frowned. “My thoughts exactly.”

“You know those guys probably better than most of us since you trained together,” Colton paused and turned toward him. “Do you think any of them are capable of doing this?”

Jake’s jaw tightened. The last thing he wanted to do was to throw one of his colleagues under the bus. But he also didn’t want to put everyone at Blackout in danger by keeping his mouth shut out of misplaced loyalty.

Computer genius Maverick had the skills to hack into any system.

Hudson “the Muscle” Roberts was aggressive enough to enact a daring plan.

Kyle was so slick no one would notice what he was doing.

But there was only one man Jake could see pulling this off on his own—someone who had all those skills.

He drew in a slow breath before saying, “I hate to say it, but Atlas has all the skills to do this. However, I don’t think it’s in his character.”

“Or he could be a great actor.” Colton gave him a sideways glance.

Jake wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Colton was right. Some of the best operatives had also mastered the art of deceit.

“So what are you going to do?” Jake studied Colton’s face, curious what he would do with that information.

“I’m not going to accuse anyone yet,” Colton said. “I’m going to keep my eye on those guys, though. I’ll have some of my most trusted colleagues do the same. We can’t let something like this happen again. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

Jake could only nod. Colton was right.

The more this escalated, the greater the chances were that someone Jake cared about would be hurt . . . or worse.

That they could die.