Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The beauty of Caribbean life was cemented into every square inch of the bank, which was located in George Town, where traditional architecture merged with stores like Versace.
Overhead were paneled ceilings, the color of the white sandy beaches, and intricately carved fans, more for looks than cooling. The interior paint matched the azure water that graced the sand not too far away.
An infusion of the local culture popped in the artwork on the walls. Natasha had mostly heard English inside the bank, but a mix of other languages floated around her as well.
Inside the office of the woman who’d finally been assigned to help Natasha and Wyatt, were sketches by a local artist of caimans, or crocodiles.
The island’s name had derived from early sightings of crocs back in the 1500s, at least that’s what was explained in the brochure Natasha had flipped through when she’d sat anxiously in the lobby waiting for help.
“You understand we need more than a passport to grant you access to the account since it was first created without you being here on-site, right?” The woman at the bank had a deep Southern drawl. A transplant, someone probably drawn to the allure of island life.
Snorkeling. Lying out on the beach and drinking cocktails. Music and dancing. Yeah, it sounded like heaven. At the very least, like an amazing vacation, one she wished she could’ve taken opposed to using her time off to hunt a killer.
“I’m sorry.” Natasha blinked. “What’d you say?”
“Have you used a biometric print scan before?”
Wyatt reached for Natasha’s hand on top of the chair arm next to her. “Dear, I have to go make a call. Would you excuse me?”
She nodded, assuming Wyatt was about to call Harper or Jessica to let them know the Agency might get flagged about a CIA officer inside a bank in the Cayman Islands.
Thank God Director Spenser worked with Wyatt’s people and could cover for her, or she’d be ridiculously screwed within a matter of minutes.
“Left palm,” the woman instructed, and Natasha slipped her hand in position on the flat screen device the woman held in front of her.
“Thank you.” She moved back to her desk and took a seat.
“So, I have your ID, your palm scan, and now I just need your four-digit pin number before I go process your account.”
Pin? She sat farther back in the salmon-colored leather chair, doing her best not to look distraught.
“You would’ve set it up when you created the account.”
“Right.” He wanted me to see the security footage before I came here.
What was the connection? “Sorry, I’ve been traveling.
And you know how it can be with a new man in your life, right?
” She thickened her Texas accent and wet her lips, leaning forward a touch on the seat, tightening her eyes.
“So many orgasms, I can barely remember my own name.”
The woman didn’t show any shock. Instead, a casual smile crossed her lips. “With a man like him, I can’t say I blame you.” Her gaze wandered to the open door, and Natasha followed her focus to see Wyatt heading back into the bank and toward the office.
“Yeah,” Natasha said in a bit of a daze as Wyatt’s long, jean-clad legs carried him her way. The crisp white tee showed his muscles and the ink on his one arm. “He has the ability to steal my thoughts.” Like now.
“We good?” he asked after entering the office.
“Just need the pin number,” the woman spoke up as Natasha turned back toward her, an idea coming to mind. “Zero, seven, twelve.”
Wyatt sat next to her and reached for her hand, and the warmth of his touch had her sputtering, “Sorry, no.” She’d given the date on the video they’d watched at the hotel, July twelfth, but the date stamp on the footage had read as 12-07.
It was more customary abroad than in the U.S.
to have the date before the month. “Twelve, Zero, Seven.” She swallowed. “That’s the pin.”
“Well, I’ll go meet with my manager, and we’ll process everything.” The woman did a quick perusal of Wyatt as if imagining what he was like in bed, then stood and left the office, closing the door behind her.
“What number was that?” he asked once they were alone.
“The date on the security video. It’s a guess.”
He squeezed her hand. “And knowing you, I’m betting a damn good one.”
She hoped so. “You call Jessica?”
“Yeah, I had Jessica alert Director Spenser about the palm scan.” He tipped his head to the side. “Everything will be fine.”
“And by everything, do you mean the fact I’m in this bank or this entire situation?” She clutched her chest with her free hand, the knot of emotion working its way into her throat. “The fact he’s calling the shots, and I have to keep following them, makes me crazy.”
“Everything as in everything.” Given what he was going through, the man was still so strong. “Just because we’re letting him make his moves, doesn’t mean we won’t be making our own. The best players study their opponents, get a read on them, then attack.”
“And since when are you a chess player?”
“I’m not, but war is often a game of strategy, and I’m an expert at that.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed when her vocal cords didn’t seem to work. “For everything, thank you.”
He leaned over the arms of their chairs and kissed her. Her coconut-flavored gloss, courtesy of the hotel, transferred to him as well, and when he pulled back, he tasted his lip. “That’s good.”
“Not supposed to eat it,” she said with a smile just as the woman opened the door.
Wyatt shifted back into his seat, and some of the tension she’d been carrying seemed to have melted away with that kiss.
“Everything is all set,” the woman announced.
Relief washed over her. Thank God.
“So, are you going to be transferring all of the money, or only some of it?” She sat across from them at her desk and opened her laptop.
“All of it,” Natasha said as confidently as possible and reached into her pocket for her phone to get the account number Harper had provided her in case of such a transfer.
“So, where would you like the one hundred and fifty million to go?”
“One fifty.” Wyatt had repeated the amount over and over again in disbelief after they’d left the bank.
“That’s half the amount The Knight transferred out of the account in Sweden.
” She peered at Wyatt in the back of the town car, the partition up between them and the driver as they made their way to the airport.
“Since nothing is ever a coincidence with this guy, I have to assume the money we’re now in possession of came from that hack in Sweden. ”
“But why in the hell would he want you to have it?” His hand turned into a fist of frustration on the leather seat between them, and she set her palm on top of his to try and calm him down.
“Three hundred million is what he made off his hacks over the years. If that was his own money he actually transferred out of Sweden, he must have had to electronically break in because his assets had been frozen or something. But as to why he wanted me to have half of his money, I have no damn clue.” And she usually never understood The Knight’s moves until it was too late. She couldn’t let that happen this time.
He reached into his pocket with his free hand and produced his phone, an incoming call from Boss Lady. “It’s Jessica.”
“Nice name.”
They’d filled Harper in before they’d started for the airport, but they weren’t expecting a call from Jessica. He held the phone slightly away from his ear so Natasha could listen in.
“Hey, glad I caught you before you got to the airport,” Jessica said. “Ever since you guys got back from Pyramiden, I’ve been working on trying to get the video footage the Russians claimed to have of Roland Nilsson being tortured.”
“I’m guessing you did?” Natasha asked.
“It took a personal request from POTUS, but President Bennett managed to secure the footage. And get this, Roland was tortured and beaten to death, but the abductors never once asked him for intel. Nothing about the data center in Sweden,” Jessica announced.
“I didn’t think The Knight would need him to hack the data center.” Natasha’s instincts had been right.
“But it still makes no sense as to why Roland was taken. If he wanted you to make the connection to Cyber X, the fact the seed vault, data center, and the weapons facility were all Felix’s clients would have been sufficient enough, right?” Wyatt pointed out, following Natasha’s line of thinking.
“There’s more.” Jessica was quiet for a moment. “The Russians discovered that someone else watched that footage. The surveillance cameras were hacked. The Russians couldn’t trace the source of the hack, but my money is on The Knight, and he wanted to watch Roland being tortured.”
“That means Roland’s death was personal.” Natasha closed her eyes, trying to understand how the security specialist fit into The Knight’s plot of revenge.
“Asher and Knox are doing a deep dive into Roland’s past as we speak. If there’s something there, we’ll find it. Hopefully, by the time you’re back in Montreal, we’ll know more.”
“Thank you.” Natasha’s gaze moved to the window as they turned onto the final road leading to the airport.
Wyatt finished up with Jessica and put his phone away. “This is good news. It might be the break we need. A clue he didn’t plant.”
He was optimistic, but over the years, Natasha had learned that too much optimism in regard to defeating The Knight usually led to one thing . . . someone getting killed.