Chapter 18 #2
Coco’s expression turned worried. “That would throw every piece of evidence we’ve ever processed into doubt.”
Jordan understood the stakes.
“People lose their liberty based on evidence processed in this lab. Their lives…” The rich cherry gloss on Coco’s lips shone in the lab’s lights. She inhaled deeply. “It can’t be compromised.”
“Dr Nygen didn’t make mistakes,” Espuna insisted.
“I need you to compare it to what we have in the system and then samples that were supposedly taken from a dead Russian arms dealer a decade ago and then to another profile that the Mexican authorities sent us today. See if there are any matches with the blood on that hanky.”
“When do you need it by?” Espuna asked.
“How fast can you run it?” Jordan countered.
Espuna pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “I can run a rapid sample which will give us results in a couple of hours and also run one on the PCR machine overnight. I also want to process this DNA for long-term storage at -80C to help preserve it for future reference.”
He nodded.
“If you want to come back in the morn—”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until we have results from that first sample. I want to make one hundred percent sure, so I can swear it in a court of law,” on the souls of his dead family, “that no one tampered with the results.”
“I should probably be insulted, but I want answers too,” Espuna admitted.
“Can I be of use?” Coco asked.
Espuna shook her head.
“Then I’ll head back to my office until the rapid DNA is complete and uploaded into the system before escorting our friend back to the atrium.” Cocoa walked away, hips swaying. “And, for everyone’s sake, Operator Krychek, I hope you’re wrong about our system being compromised.”
Daisy sat at the table where the six of them were going through background information on the other delegates who’d attended the conference in Mexico.
It was weird knowing details about her boss and colleagues at Richmond, not to mention renowned experts throughout the world. Details they wouldn’t want her to know.
“This is going to make great blackmail material when I need a reference or new job.”
Mac, Regan, and Detective Granger gave her the side-eye.
Lucy grinned. Alex Parker hid a smile. Thankfully, Agent Crabtree had headed back to DC, presumably to report in to his master, but promised to be back first thing in the morning.
Yippee. Cisco had headed back to the TacOps building—apparently known as “The Center,” which wasn’t creepy at all—to run facial recognition programs using more powerful machines.
Where the hell had Jordan gotten to?
She guessed she wasn’t really surprised. More disappointed at herself that she’d believed he’d be different.
She licked her fingers as she finished off another slice of mushroom pizza and figured she better hit the gym soon or she wouldn’t fit into her jeans.
She grabbed another slice. Sometimes life threw enough shit at you that you shouldn’t have to worry about fitting into your damned jeans.
“So far, we haven’t found any red flags about scientists working with Russia, except for the obvious contenders from Russia and Belarus.
” Alex’s fingers raced over the keyboard like he was playing a piano concerto.
“We need to let the deeper background checks run overnight—that will include financials. We can parse the data tomorrow.”
It was nearly 9 p.m. They were all flagging.
“Let’s quickly work on reconstructing the timeline before we call it a night.” Mac pushed aside his plate, wiped his mouth on a napkin, then picked up a marker for the whiteboard. “What time did Tremblay head to his room from the beach?”
“It was about quarter to ten, I think,” said Daisy.
“Jordan and you were in the stairwell shortly afterward?”
“Probably a minute or two behind him in leaving the beach.” Daisy wished she didn’t have to lie to these people who she was starting to trust. Although, technically, it wasn’t a lie.
She just hadn’t known Jordan was following her…
assuming he wasn’t lying to her about him not being the person to throw Francois off his balcony.
But that didn’t fit with the man she knew.
“Police reports say Tremblay hit the ground at nine-fifty-five p.m.” Mac noted the times. “Not much time for a meet.”
She shivered. Plus, Francois had wanted her to go to his room. He hadn’t mentioned meeting anyone. Not that she could tell them that.
“Perhaps he interrupted someone searching his room?” Lucy ran her hand through her short hair, making the ends stand up.
She wore a cute multicolor sweater and jeans and looked about as unspook-like as a kindergarten teacher.
Although, now Daisy thought about it, people like that surely made the best intelligence agents.
“Or he witnessed something someone didn’t want him to see on his way to his room.
” Jon Regan tapped his pen on the desk. He’d done a sweep of this room for listening devices after Agent Crabtree had left.
The other agent’s affiliation seemed to lie more with the seventh floor than with the task force, and no one really trusted the other agent.
“We know the cameras went off at nine-ten p.m. and back on at ten-ten p.m.” Mac added the times and pressed his lips together.
Daisy had overheard Parker say they were still searching for the source of the interference, which had been cleverly cloaked.
She hoped Cisco wasn’t going to get into trouble for hacking into the system for Jordan.
“If the cameras went off to cover a meeting with Tremblay, why was Tremblay on the beach with a bottle of red wine?”
“Maybe he changed his mind,” Parker suggested.
“Not an option when you get into bed with the Russians,” Lucy said quietly.
“Well, he did end up pancaked on the patio,” Regan pointed out.
“Do we know if Tremblay had anything in his room that might be worth stealing?” asked Lucy.
Detective Granger pulled up the Mexican police report along with the list of items retrieved. “Nothing that is obviously suspect, but we don’t know what’s on his laptop.”
“And whoever was in his room—whoever killed him—could have taken it,” Regan pointed out the obvious.
“Krychek didn’t notice him carrying anything so it would have to be small enough to put in his pocket,” Mac noted.
“You can store a hell of a lot of secrets on a thumb drive and a hell of a lot of diamonds in your pocket.” Regan seemed more subdued than usual. Tiredness or worry, Daisy wasn’t certain which.
“I’m going to see if I can set up some protocols to figure out if Tremblay had some sort of cloud backup or if I can get into his email or download his cell records,” Alex muttered.
Mac stuck his fingers in his ears. “I didn’t hear that and make sure it’s not done using FBI servers. I don’t want the French or Mexicans accusing the US of interference when we’re simply looking for answers. Nor the FBI Director for that matter.”
Alex smiled. “They’d never know, but anything I don’t do, I’ll make sure not to do it from somewhere else. You should request subpoenas in case it’s worth the FBI’s time.”
Mac nodded and added it to a list he had on his tablet.
“What if Regan is right? What if Francois simply witnessed something on the way to his room?” Daisy mulled over the idea.
“The hotel cameras being off had to be a smokescreen for the Russian meeting someone. Maybe it wasn’t Francois?
Can we plot out who was in each room on that floor?
” She knew her boss and several lab mates were on five.
“Can we use any other cameras in the area, or people taking photos on their phones to place them somewhere other than the fifth floor? People are bound to have started videoing when Tremblay died.” Pizza curdled in her stomach at the thought of his tragic death, and she put the last piece, uneaten, back on her paper plate.
Mac pointed his finger at her. “Good idea.” He looked at Regan.
Regan shrugged. “We can do it at TacOps, but we should utilize SIOC’s capabilities to do it faster.”
Alex opened his mouth to speak, but Regan spoke over him. “Let the FBI do some of the hard work, or the director might think she doesn’t need us anymore and privatize the whole freaking lot of us.”
Mac stared at the other man thoughtfully.
Nodded. “Regan’s right. The less we share the more suspicious the director might get.
And she’s going to want to know how we obtain all our information so let’s keep as much of it above board as possible.
But we keep the Bocharov name locked down tight to need-to-know only.
” He held Granger’s gaze as he said it, and the Chicago detective looked away, clearly pissed.
“I’ll call SIOC. The issue arises, however, in that we have no proof that this is anything more than a man falling off his balcony to his death and Krychek following a man with a Russian accent out of the hotel. ”
“Well, we have the fact someone chased us, shot at us, and the black limo being torched,” Daisy countered.
Mac shot her a look. “I’m not arguing, but I know how the lawyers look at these things, and it’s not like normal human beings.”
Jordan burst into the room and slapped a piece of paper on the table.
Despite her fatigue, her heart skipped.
“Rapid DNA confirms there’s a one hundred percent match between some of the DNA found in Tremblay’s room and that of the sample I took from Bocharov ten years ago.” He looked directly at her as he spoke. “Konrad Bocharov is alive.”