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I t was Saturday morning, and Jordan hadn’t bothered going home last night, too excited by the potential break in the case and disgusted by how he’d treated Montana’s daughter.

Last night, she’d gone from being glad to see Daniel Ackers to cursing them both out at high volume before Blue Team had physically removed her.

And the look of betrayal she’d shot Jordan still bitch-slapped him in the face every time he thought about it.

Christ.

He’d royally fucked up every single interaction with a person he’d wanted more than anything to protect. He should have insisted she stay with him, but she was safer in protective custody.

Dammit.

Kurt would understand, but his daughter would never forgive him, and he’d realized over the past fourteen hours that her forgiveness was something he wanted to earn.

He’d slept on a bedroll in his office and showered in the gym.

His stomach rumbled. He didn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

He was going to have to go across to the cafeteria at the Academy at some point and get some food.

He looked at the copies of the photos that were being run right now.

He knew one guy was a much younger Bjorn Anders, and that gave them a timeline to work with for age progression.

Another man was Darmawan Hurek of whom they had very few images, period, and another inexplicably looked a lot like tech billionaire Nolan Gilder.

If Gilder were involved, it explained a whole hell of a lot about what had been going on over the past month.

Maybe not the why, but certainly the who. It wasn’t the Israelis or Russians or Chinese. It was one fucking, out-of-control oligarch who, according to some sources, wanted to live forever.

The photos revealed answers to many mysteries.

Hurek and Gilder had both attended university in St. Andrews at around the same time, but there had never been any hint they’d been friends.

Had Gilder scrubbed his online history? Definitely.

Who were the other men in the photos? Analysts were running them now.

Jordan had called the hotel resort that was on the header of the paper used in the note—the one near where Rowena Smith’s uncle’s car had been found.

They had no record of Kurt or Rowena staying there, nor Kurt’s alias, Joe Hanssen.

But if someone was willing to bring down a commercial aircraft and attempt to murder an FBI operator on US soil to keep their association a secret, they were more than capable of erasing records of a man and a woman staying at a hotel.

His phone rang.

Armstrong. “Hey, get this.”

Jordan heard the excitement in Armstrong’s voice.

“We had a break in the case. Took Dulles security about an hour to tag me, but thankfully, the woman refused to give up.”

“Woman?”

“A farmer from Mozambique claimed to have information about Montana.”

This was it.

“I went over and interviewed her and then brought her to headquarters. She traveled all the way from Mozambique because she recognized Rowena from the Brits’ missing person appeal.

And then she saw Kurt’s photo in the list of people who were supposed to have died on the flight and guess what?

She saw them, Jordan. She saw him and Rowena Smith both alive and said they were traveling together as a couple using fake names. ”

Jordan raised his brows. “When?”

“January thirteenth at her farm.”

“They only met two days prior, but they forged enough of a bond to go on the run together?”

“Seems like it. Marianne Van Hoogen said she caught them in her outdoor canteen patching up a nasty wound in Kurt’s arm. Spun some story about being lost hikers. But get this, he told her his name was Joe Hanssen .”

Jordan stood abruptly and walked to the window that looked out over the stark winter landscape. This had to be true. There was no other explanation.

“Why’d she come to Washington? Why not call?”

“She’s scared. Says that she gave them a ride to Beira, but after they helped her load fertilizer onto her truck, an armed gang came along and grabbed Kurt. Rowena tried to defend him, and they took her too.”

His mouth went dry. A kidnapping? This was a simple kidnapping? Where was the ransom demand? Why had they been traveling on foot across Mozambique in the first place?

“The woman reported it to local police, and they promised to look into it, but she says nothing happened. When she was searching for any kind of mention of it in the news afterwards, that’s when she spotted Kurt’s photo.

After that, she didn’t trust the local police not to come looking for her.

She’s convinced her phones are compromised—we have hers now, examining it in the lab.

She’s genuinely scared and very, very smart.

She decided to book a vacation cruise package to the Caribbean, something that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion.

She jumped ship in Jamaica and flew straight here with only her purse and the clothes on her back. ”

“What day did they get taken in Beira? ”

“January fourteenth.”

A month ago.

Despair leaked through though he tried to hold it at bay. “We should have had a ransom demand by now.”

“Yeah. I’m going to pull in a negotiator as part of the task force, just in case.”

Jordan scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Most of them are getting ready for Quentin Savage’s wedding tomorrow. Do you think it could be related? Savage’s wedding? Hurek? Kurt’s disappearance?”

“Maybe. They’re on high alert for that.”

“You get a load of the people in that one photograph?”

“Yeah. Believe it or not, Gilder is a plus-one to one of the wedding guests.”

A bad feeling flitted over his skin. “Could this be some sort of terror plot?”

“I’ve given Alex Parker the heads up as to a potential situation, and he’s hiring additional security to the already massive security efforts they have in place. President Hague is supposed to make an appearance, so no one is taking any chances.”

Jordan relaxed a little. If POTUS was there, security would be tight as a duck’s ass. “Perhaps we can flip it and use the opportunity to get eyes on him.”

“Exactly what I’m thinking too. We have enough agents in play, hopefully we can get something on him.”

“It can’t be traced back to us unless we have a warrant.”

“I already spoke to a judge. It’s a sealed warrant. The info is need-to-know—I wasn’t even convinced I should tell you.”

Jordan bristled, but he understood. This info couldn’t leak. “It’s dangerous going after this guy.” He didn’t even want to say his name. “If he has Kurt and he discovers we suspect him, what’s to stop him ordering a kill?” If he hadn’t already .

All this progress in the past few days…it would be unbearable to lose Kurt now.

“I spoke to the FBI Director. I had to. We have massive defense and infrastructure contracts with his company. If he’s dirty, they need to know.”

“What did she say?”

“Apparently, DoD is already conducting a separate investigation.”

“What are the implications of arresting one of the richest people in the world?”

“At least he’ll be able to afford a good lawyer.”

“Cocksucker will probably be out on bail and on his private island by lunchtime.” They were going to have to tread very carefully, the priority for the FBI first being to find Kurt Montana and Rowena Smith.

Then they needed to round up all those responsible for bringing down a commercial aircraft and whatever other crimes they were trying to hide that were worth killing so many innocents for.

Not to mention putting a contract on Jordan’s head.

“What are you doing with the witness who came in?” asked Jordan.

“A protective detail. But she’s made a sworn statement under oath, and she’s planning to stay in the city for as long as we need her to.”

Would it ever be safe for her if she were identified?

“If Gilder is in the city for this wedding, he better not catch sight or scent of her.”

“He won’t. Right now, he thinks we’re ignorant of any involvement on his part. Kurt’s letter is the only connection we have. It’s circumstantial. It proves nothing, but we’re working on it.”

“I hate waiting.”

“So do I.”

“Do you think Kurt’s still alive?”

“That’s what I’m telling myself until I see proof otherwise. You know Kurt. He’s a fighter. I’m going to see who the CIA have in Mozambique. See if we can identify the group that abducted them. Maybe talk to them.”

“We need renewed focus on all and any communications out of Beira at that time. Hey, it’s a port, right? We should look at ships on any satellite images around the same period. Track each vessel. See where they are now. Get ahead of the curve.”

“Good idea. I’ll put a team on it. It’s coming together.”

Jordan rocked his lower jaw in his hand. “It’s taking too damned long. How’s Montana’s kid holding up?” It was easier to think of her as a kid though he knew she was anything but.

“Last report was she was giving Blue Team hell, and one of them asked if they could sedate or restrain her.”

Jordan opened his mouth to object.

“I told them to man up and treat her the way they’d want their sister or mother treated.”

Jordan flashed back to her naked body and knew he definitely didn’t think of Daisy Montana like a sister or his mother, and if Kurt ever found out, he was a dead man.

As long as Kurt was alive, he’d take that risk.