Page 17 of Into the Gray Zone (Pike Logan #19)

Nadia entered the room and set the camera on the table, saying, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask who you guys work for.”

Uh-oh.

I tried my best to look perplexed, saying, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

She said, “We found this on the old grate to the drainage cut. The hotel says it’s not theirs. It’s an IP camera, and we’re

tracking who it was talking to tonight, right now. If it’s the terrorists, we’ll have a location to check out.”

Mental note: Shut down the other cameras.

I said, “Okay?”

“If it was talking to someone in this hotel, that’s another wrinkle we’ll have to explore. We’ll know soon, unless you want

to spare me the trouble.”

I absolutely wanted her to stop looking, but I wasn’t too worried, because I knew how we operated. Veep’s connection to those

cameras would have been layered and spoofed by about fourteen different addresses, to the point that they’d find out someone

from the Republic of the Congo was the initiating terminal.

I said, “You do what you think you need to. We’d like to stop them as much as you. We don’t really like terrorists.”

She circled around the table, saying nothing. Hoping the pregnant silence would get us to talk. Unfortunately for her, I’d

been in her shoes with real bad guys on the other end, and I was trained not to take the bait. Never, ever answer a question

that wasn’t asked.

She stopped walking and said, “It was a little bit of a miracle that you and Jennifer managed to stop that assault. A couple

of ditchdiggers from an ‘archeological company’ thwart a well-trained group of assassins right at the point of entrance. Don’t

you think?”

At that point, I decided to turn it back on her, since we were all doing doublespeak. She hadn’t given her superiors her suspicions,

or we’d be in a much more secure location, and I was sick of the bullshit.

I said, “Yeah, that’s true. We were extremely lucky. But not the least because a lowly waitress from Goa managed to find a

pistol in her panties she’d forgotten about. I’ll give you that. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Knuckles here had

taught you to shoot it when you were together. Maybe dry firing in the kitchen instead of the bedroom.”

I saw her face grow red, like I’d literally slapped her. She spluttered for a moment, then picked up the camera on the table

and hurled it at my head. I dodged it, hearing it splinter against the wall. She looked at me with pure venom, and I could

see the restrained rage. She wanted to attack me, literally, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of my comment about Knuckles

or whether she didn’t like the turn of events in general. I did, however, like the emotion.

And the restraint.

If she was willing to go mano a mano with me, she was confident in her abilities, and I had no doubt I’d be in for a fight. But if she was holding back because of her mission, she had the focus of someone I’d want on my team.

Knuckles leapt up, glaring at me, saying, “Whoa, whoa, let’s all calm down here. We all want to solve this problem, but we

don’t know what you want. We’re nothing but registered guests of the hotel. There’s no reason to get in a fight here.”

She went from him to me, locking eyes and saying, “Okay, Mr.Nobody, if you were to say who did this, with your complete lack

of experience in such matters, who would you say did it?”

I looked at Knuckles, he nodded, and I told her everything we’d just discussed about the types of weapons, the method of assault,

and the timing. I ended with, “But what do we know? We don’t deal with this on a daily basis.”

I saw a small grin wanting to leak out, and she said, “I know that, but it’s good to get a separate opinion. And I see you’re

thinking the same thing I am.”

I glanced at Knuckles, because what I’d told her was an either/or thing, just like we’d talked about, and said, “What? I just

said we don’t know.”

“You said you didn’t think this was a random, LeT rage attack.”

“I said we thought it was, most probably,” and then hastily followed up with, “Although I’ll also say I don’t know what LeT is.”

She smirked and said, “No, you said you believed it might be them, but you also said there were indications it wasn’t, and this was targeted.”

We were going in circles, and I didn’t see the reason why. I said, “Okay? So what?”

She glanced at the door, then said, “Knuckles, lock it.”

So the room isn’t wired for sound. Now we were getting to the meat of this thing.

He did, and she laid all her cards on the table, saying, “Look, I’m sure you’re not here for some archeological dig. I’m not going to make you say it, but you and I both know that there’s a meeting happening tomorrow between Riva Thakkar, the CIA, and RAW. I think that attack was against Thakkar. I think they wanted to kill him. I don’t think they intended to come onto the resort and just massacre whoever they saw. They were after him .”

I took that in but wasn’t ready to capitulate the entire cover just yet. I said, “So tell your guys. Let them hunt the terrorists.

What do we have to do with this?”

She sighed, looked at the closed door, then said, “Because they don’t believe me, and really, because if I’m right, there’s

a leak on my side.”

“What’s that mean?”

She took a breath, as if she was considering what to say next, then let it out. “If they were after Thakkar, they had to know

he was eating outside in real time. The only way to know that was from somebody on my team. If I’m right—and I’m not really

sure I am—but if I’m right, somebody on my team let them know.”

Which was intriguing. This little beach vacation was starting to look like fun. I’d wanted to leave India as soon as our babysitting

gig was over, not liking playing second fiddle to the CIA, but this was something else. I could hang around a little bit longer

to see where it went.

I said, “But everything you guys found was from LeT and Pakistan. The weapons, the original guy who was captured here, the

entire thing.”

She took that in, and I saw recognition dawning on her face. I knew I’d said too much. She said, “Yes, that’s true. But it’s

beyond me as to how you’d know that.”

I started to say something but she held out her hand, shutting me up and saying, “No, no, I’m sure they brief every company

who comes to India about any loose risks. I understand.”

She paused, seeming to do an internal battle within herself. She turned in a circle, then faced us, saying, “The two guys who were killed tonight were tied in to D Company, which is an organized crime syndicate here in India. They’re bad guys, but not ideological. They have no association with Pakistan, the ISI, or LeT. D Company writ large does, however, purely for monetary reasons. Which is to say it could go either way, but I don’t think it does. They were here for Thakkar, and they were working for someone other than LeT or Pakistan.”

The words settled on the room like a pesticide fog floating down from the ceiling, both Knuckles and me reassessing why we

were here.

She flicked her head to Knuckles and said, “Look, I believe you’re the good guys, mainly because of him, but I’m in a bit

of a quandary here. I think this attack is targeted, but I can’t convince anyone else of that. They don’t like females telling

them their suspicions.”

I heard the words and knew exactly what she was saying. Once upon a time, I’d lived that very thing with Jennifer, and it

had almost cost me my life. I didn’t know if she was playing me, but she hit the right notes.

Even so, I said, “I don’t know where this is going here. I have a female on my team and so... what? You now trust us?”

She looked insulted and said, “No, that’s not it at all,” but I could tell there was a grain of truth in what I’d said. She

continued, “I don’t want to convince anyone else, because I think we have a leak. I need some help. It’s not just about me being a female, it’s about

them not wanting to see what’s in front of them.”

Knuckles echoed me, saying, “Which means, what?”

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she wanted to jump over the cliff, and then she did. She pulled a key out of her

pocket. It had a large plastic fob on the end, looking like a Holiday Inn key circa 1985. She held it up, looked at me, and

said, “I searched the guy you killed, before anyone else showed up. He had nothing on him other than this. It’s a hotel in

Baga.”

I took the key and said, “So? What do you want us to do, as an archeological research company?”

She exhaled at my continuing the subterfuge and said, “As Knuckles would say, ‘Cut the shit.’ Is that right? Did I get that

right?”

Knuckles laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s a pretty good go. Just tell us what you want.”

She turned to him and said, “Do I have to spell it out? Are you two that obtuse? Go break into the damn thing and tell me

what you find.”

She locked eyes with me again, knowing she’d just put her career on the table. I quit with the pretending and said, “You,

and you alone?”

“Yes. Me alone. If I’m right, then anyone else could be compromised. If I’m wrong, then who cares?”

I said, “Why do you trust us to do this? We could be in on the plan.”

She looked at Knuckles, and he smiled, believing he knew what she was going to say.

She said, “Because of Jennifer. Because of how she reacted to her nickname. She’s pure, and there’s no way she would be involved

in anything like this.”

Knuckles’ face fell, and someone knocked on the door. Nadia unlocked it, and Jennifer walked in.

She saw the group of us and said, “What did I miss?”