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He had an entire network of his own hackers? Who was this guy? She’d heard rumors that he was some sort of espionage mastermind, but this went way beyond the rumors.

Taking a flyer, she leaned forward and asked, “Do you have someone who might be able to do a little domestic poking for me?”

The intelligence in Alex Peters’ eyes as he studied her was almost frightening. For a moment, she felt a flash of gratitude that she was on the same side of the law as him. “What are we poking at?” he asked.

“I’ve been watching a homegrown separatist group out in Idaho.

I believe they’re connected somehow to the Scientist. They mostly run off the grid, but two of their leaders went to North Sudan last month.

The same two men made a good faith effort to kill me and Ian at the Scientist’s lab two days ago.

They may have left a footprint of some kind. ”

“This bunch got a name?”

“The Patrick Henry Patriots. Or just PHP.”

Alex nodded and started typing. He typed for longer this time, and eventually, he sat back, frowning. “Not a red flag kind of outfit at a glance.”

That was what she’d thought, too. Until they sent representatives to Khartoum.

“Interesting group,” Alex commented. “They don’t seem like the types to hook up with a Palestinian biological terrorist.”

“Hence my desire to get a handle on what they’re doing.”

“You think they’ve radicalized?” he asked.

God, that was the big, unanswered question, wasn’t it? She sincerely hoped not. In response to Alex, she could only shrug. “No idea.”

A new window opened up on Alex’s computer screen. “Looks like they bought a helicopter recently,” he commented.

She stared, shocked. “But they hate technology of all kinds. They think we need to go back to the 1870’s technologically to get back in touch with the values that made us a great nation.”

Alex shrugged. “Well, they bought a helo on the 28 th of last month. They used a shell corporation and nested the deal through a couple of tax shelters, but PHP is the final buyer.”

“Has it been delivered?” she asked.

“Yup. To an address in southern Nevada.”

“Nevada? Their compound is in upstate Idaho.”

“Looks like your boys are branching out. Unless they just took delivery in Nevada and are planning to fly the bird up to Idaho. Lemme see if I can track down anything more.”

Alex typed a few minutes longer. All he came up with was a description of a white helicopter with red racing stripes down its sides.

“What about the money trail on the Scientist?” Ian asked. “Any hits? He can’t go too far underground with his eight-year old daughter in tow, can he?”

Alex grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to try it with Dawn. It was bad enough getting her out of Zaghastan as a newborn when all she did was sleep and eat and poop.”

Ian laughed ruefully. “Not to mention having to get Katie out of there, too.”

Piper’s gaze snapped to Ian. Why that comment, and in that tone of voice? Because Katie was a woman? Had Ian always been this big a chauvinist and she just hadn’t noticed?

Alex shrugged. “Katie was great. I don’t know if I’d have made it out without her.”

Piper gifted him with a warm smile for his enlightenment.

“It may take a while for me to get a hit on either of your guys,” Alex said. “Can you stick around for lunch? Warning, though: Katie’s going to bend your ear over wedding stuff.”

Ian laughed. “I’ll pass. Besides, our investigation is time sensitive.”

Alex nodded. “If I hear anything, “I’ll pass it on to you.”

Ian waxed sober. “Maybe you could ask your…alternate sources...if they know anything about the Scientist or PHP?”

Alex blinked, looking startled. “It’s that critical?”

“Dude, the guy’s got three coolers full of a virus that apparently is designed to kill everyone who comes into contact with it. You tell me how critical the mission is.”

Frowning, Alex pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a long number. Piper was startled when he spoke into it in rapid, apparently fluent, Russian.

She leaned over to Ian and whispered, “Our op is classified to the Moon and back. I know Alex has the clearances for it, but who’s he talking to in freaking Russian? Does that person have clearance for this?”

Ian muttered back, “He’s talking to the number three guy in the FSB. That guy has probably got plenty of clearances to hear about a few terrorists.”

Her jaw dropped. She whispered urgently, “The FSB? The enemy ?”

Alex startled her by answering as he disconnected his cell phone. “They’re not all enemies. A few of them quietly oppose the current regime in Russian and would like to see more cooperation with the West. I do my best to keep channels of communications with those people open.”

Huh?

Ian mouthed, “Later,” at her, and flashed her a hand signal out of Alex’s line of sight to stand down.

“My source will look into it from his end. If he turns anything up, I’ll pass it on directly to you, Ian.”

“Thanks, man.”

She nodded in minor shock and rose to her feet when the men did. She watched as Ian tickled Dawn into a squealing fit of laughter and made his apologies to Katie at not being able to stay for lunch. More quickly than she’d expected, he whisked her out the door and into the elevator.

“He called the FSB, Ian,” she challenged. “Is your sister’s fiancé some sort of double agent?”

“More like a liaison between us and them. A back channel for information flow that needs to stay off-book.”

She sagged against the wall of the elevator, stunned. “And Doctors Unlimited knows about this?”

“They set it up.”

Shut the front door . No wonder McCloud felt like he could waltz into her hotel room and steal her damned evidence at will.

He was connected like crazy in the intelligence community.

She had never felt like more of an outsider than in that moment.

She’d known the good ole’ boy network would be hard to break into.

But she’d had no idea a person had to be born into the bloody club.

“Have you got any other famous spy relatives I should know about?” she asked sourly.

“Well, my uncle’s the deputy director of Plans for the CIA. Does that count?”

“Charles—” Jesus. “--Charles McCloud. Of course. You McClouds are everywhere, aren’t you?” The family must be some sort of intelligence royalty.

“Fertile bunch, us McClouds.”

He certainly had the smoking hot sex portion of that proposition down pat. Her belly clenched in momentary hunger for more of the McCloud magic before her brain overruled it.

“Now what?” she asked.

He smiled quickly, throwing her off balance.

“Katie asks that exact same question all the time,” he murmured in explanation.

“So…are you going to answer it?” she prodded when he didn’t say more.

He shrugged. “Until we have some idea of where to look for the Scientist, how do you feel about getting eyes on the Patrick Henry Patriots?”

Not great. But she couldn’t exactly tell him that.

Thing was, the PHP gang was her turf. Her mission. If she could nail down the PHP’s goals, it would be a win for her. A win her career could sorely use after she’d let an asset from another government agency steal her hot intel.

Unfortunately, this mission was too important for her to hold onto a snit over him stealing her thunder.

“Let’s do it,” she answered a shade reluctantly.

He glanced over at her, a lopsided grin making him look boyish. “Girls as hot as you need to be careful about saying things like that to the boys.”

Dammit, there went her gut again. And this time her brain had a much harder time stuffing her Pandora-like reaction back into its horny little box.