Chapter 6
Chapter Six
He needed to comfort Dani, to tell her he’d make all of this go away, but he didn’t have the ability to speak. Right now, all that mattered was getting them somewhere safe. He eased his foot off the gas. If he wasn’t careful, he’d get in an accident.
Dani broke the silence. “He messaged me only a half hour ago. That means they got there just before we did, killed him, and left. How did they know where he was?”
“He must have been followed. The important thing is they didn’t know he was meeting you. They probably hadn’t looked through his other phone until after they left the scene. If they had, they would have waited for you. You communicated with him through an encrypted phone, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Did you notice anything different about Sven?” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I know it must be difficult to think about it. But I got a good look at a tattoo on his neck and I was wondering if you knew what the symbol meant.”
She frowned, and he wished he could smooth the puckered skin between her eyes with his finger. He curled his hand into a fist.
“I noticed the tattoo.” She shook her head as if to release the image. “I didn’t get a good look at it, and I don’t remember seeing it on him before or him mentioning getting one.”
People got new tattoos all the time, but the curled tips of the pentagon with animal horns in the center had sent chills down his spine. “It’s probably nothing. Try not to think about it.”
She nodded. Her teeth punctured her bottom lip. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel until we know it’s safe. It’s probably best if we stay in a public place for a while.”
“I agree. There’s a coffee shop downtown that has a lot of foot traffic. We can park in the parkade a few blocks away and walk. That way if someone spots us, they won’t know what vehicle we’re driving.”
He switched off the GPS and followed Dani’s instructions to the parkade.
They got out, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to his side.
This time, she didn’t resist. He led her down the street and into the coffee shop.
After ordering, they found a table away from the windows.
He pulled out her chair and she sat with her back toward the entrance.
He sat across from her and placed her coffee, which had a decorative leaf carved into the foam, in front of her.
“We need a plan.” She plunged the wooden stir stick into the liquid.
He folded his hands around his paper cup of black coffee. “We need to look at the flash drive. There’s no other option.”
She made a face. “What if I don’t want to know what’s on it?”
“It’s a little late for that.”
She lifted her cup to her lips and sipped. “I suppose you’re right. We need to take it to the authorities, but who do we trust? I feel like no matter where we go, they’re going to get Interpol involved.”
“Looking at what we’re involved in is the best way to start.” He scanned the wooden tables and mismatched chairs of the eclectic space. “Where can we use a public computer?”
Dani tapped her fingernail on the side of her cup. “The public library is a few blocks away. We won’t need a card since we don’t have to access the Internet to read the drive.”
Brock gave a brisk nod. “Good. We’ll go there when we’re done. For now, let’s check his phone.”
She reached into the pocket of her sweater and slid the iPhone across the tabletop, her hand covering it as if it were a bomb detonator. He took it and scrolled through the text messages first. “Did you communicate using this phone number at all?”
She closed her eyes on another sip. Her shoulders rolled forward and some of the tension left her face. Even without a hint of makeup and her hair frizzy at the ends she was gorgeous.
“We mostly communicated through phone calls. It wasn’t until he told me he had an encrypted number that we started texting.”
He scrolled through the numbers and the tissue behind his eyes ached.
Given the mega-long foreign numbers, his brain worked even harder to force pieces together, which did absolutely no good as he wasn’t familiar with European area codes.
He clicked on each message. Most were obviously from friends or family judging by the exchange. Then:
Send me your contact’s photo and passport number.
Brock straightened in his seat and brought the screen closer to his face.
“What is it?” Dani stretched across the table. Her scent—hotel shampoo and peppermint—invaded his nostrils.
He tilted the screen so she could read. She inhaled sharply. Her body jerked and her outstretched finger shook as the image of her passport photo filled the screen.
“Shit.” He curled his free hand into a fist and pressed his knuckles into the table to stop himself from punching the wall next to him.
“Oh my god.” She hovered her hand over her mouth. “How did Sven get that?”
“You never gave it to him?”
She shook her head, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Oh my god.” She wrapped her hands around her stomach and rocked forward and then back. “I can’t believe this.”
There weren’t any more messages to read, so he placed the phone facedown. “He sent that February 3. You’ve been here how long?”
“Almost two weeks. I arrived on the second.”
“So he sent it after you arrived. Did you see him around that time?”
She crushed her knuckles to her teeth. “Briefly. He met me at the airport and I brought him to the flat I’d rented for a drink.
He left for Paris that night. He said he needed to tie up some things.
He must have gotten a hold of my passport while I was in the bathroom.
I don’t understand. Why would he do that? ”
Brock shrugged. “For starters, this job is a helluva lot different than swiping some diamonds. You’re carrying incriminating information.
It was probably one of the stipulations of bringing you on.
” Brock sucked back more coffee and narrowed his gaze.
“I still think it’s strange Sven went to the trouble of hiring you.
He had the password—why not do the job himself? ”
Dani made a face and tapped her light pink fingernail against the table.
“Sven had a mole. Someone who works for Ubrigg managed to lift his password. Sven said the person refused to steal any information. Apparently, he didn’t want to get involved but did it as a favor for Sven.
” She lifted her shoulder. “He also said he didn’t trust anyone besides me to do it. ”
“He gave up your identity, but let’s be real—they probably had your face from the cameras. This just gave them a shitload more access to your information.”
She lifted her coffee to her lips. “I wish I could be mad, but he’s dead now.” Strain creased the skin on her forehead.
He covered her wrist with his hand and squeezed. “We should go look at what’s on the drive.”
She nodded and stood. Her wrist slipped from his hold, leaving his palm aching for the silkiness of her skin.
Dani tucked her hair behind her ears and sat in the chair in front of the computer they’d rented.
The bright fluorescent lights and cramped space filled with college-age students made heat tingle in her cheeks.
She pulled the flash drive out of her pocket, and her hand trembled as she pushed it into the USB port.
“Relax. It’s data, not porn.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” A shiver of delight ran down her back. Until now, she’d never had an interest in porn, but the thought of Brock watching it sparked intrigue.
No way. Don’t go there.
She shooed all delicious thoughts of naked Brock from her mind and wiggled the mouse. Brock scooted a chair close to her and his arm circled the back of her chair. Her body hummed in unison with his skin, only scant millimeters away.
“Click here,” he said, tapping the screen. His gaze was locked on the computer, reminding her she was the only one so tormented by their closeness. Or if he was too, he did a damn good job of hiding it. She cleared her throat and moved the mouse to the folder.
Twelve files filled the screen and she squinted to read the names. She brought the mouse to the first one: Intro.
“Best place to start, I suppose.” She frowned as she read the paragraphs outlining the experimental virus and its effects on the body. “Oh my god. Why would they even make something like this?”
“Money,” Brock whispered. “Jesus.” He brought his finger to a sentence a few lines lower than where she’d stopped.
Chrisolicom XII has a high success rate of contagion. Carriers become contagious instantly and will die within forty-eight hours of exposure. There is no cure at this time.
She swallowed and pressed her palm between her breasts.
Terror flooded her veins with the force of water from a fire hose, and she gripped the edge of the table for support.
Brock’s hand replaced hers on the mouse.
He backed out of the file and clicked through the other eleven.
Pages and pages of formulas, graphs, and studies flipped past her eyes.
“Stop. Shut it off.” She reached forward and yanked the drive from the USB port. “We have to destroy this.”
Brock took the drive from her fingers and curled it in his fist. “Do you think this is the only copy? Look at the data they have. They aren’t worried about losing it. Ubrigg’s company has enough information to make this disease ten times over. They don’t want it in anyone else’s hands, though.”
Her breath made a sharp hissing sound as it passed through her teeth.
Blood pumped ferociously against her temples.
She pressed her elbows into the table, brought her hands to the throbbing soft spots, and stared at the keyboard.
“I can’t believe Sven knew what information he was transporting.
I mean, this could wipe out cities—countries—in weeks.
Maybe we should send it back to Ubrigg.”
Brock gripped her bicep in his hand. “Are you forgetting he’s the one who created this thing? What do you think his motive was?”
“Maybe he made it for a weapon of war or something.”
“Yeah, and it can’t be contained. There’s no cure. Ubrigg created this knowing it could take out a large mass of the population.”
Her palms turned cold. There was no one to turn to—with the local police and Interpol involved, they couldn’t trust any level of law enforcement. If this fell into the wrong hands, the destruction of humanity would be on their shoulders. Pressure built in her chest and she swallowed over the ache.
“We need a plan.” She dropped her hands from her face. “If we can find out who hired Sven, then we’ll at least have a name to report. As of right now, if we get caught with this formula, we’re going to take the rap and no one will believe that anyone else was involved.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“How?”
His thumb rolled over the sensitive joint at her elbow and his mouth split into a wide grin revealing his perfect white teeth. “Fuck if I know. You’re always the brain of the operation.”
Butterflies beat against the lining of her stomach and the corners of her lips tugged into a smile. She opened her mouth to reply but a movement beyond Brock’s shoulder caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes as a man with his gaze trained on her disappeared behind a wall of books.
“Uh, Brock. I think we’re being followed.”
His fingers chomped into the tender flesh at her arm. “Don’t look. There’s someone in the east corner watching us too.” His chin dipped to her ear. “We need to get out of here.”
She pressed her toes into the carpet, ready to fling her chair backward on Brock’s word.
It didn’t come.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
He took her hand and pressed the drive into her palm. “Go to the bathroom.” He nodded to the restrooms, which were ten feet from their table. “Lock the door. I’ll divert them.”
Panic fired down her body. She grabbed his wrist. “No. It’s too dangerous.” She didn’t fight the desperation clawing at her throat.
“We don’t have a choice. They’re going to make a move if we don’t.” He pried her fingers off his wrist and cupped the base of her neck in his palm.
Her senses buzzed and goosebumps erupted over her skin.
The laser focus of his hazel irises landed on her face and stilled.
A muscle jumped at his throat and his jaw moved from side to side, as if he were at war with himself.
Her body screamed at her to grab him, to take his mouth in hers and forget all the shit that had happened in the past. Tears dampened her eyes and she reached for his shirt, snagging the material.
He was strong, capable, and one of the smartest men she knew—but without a gun and against the killers who’d been after her, he probably wouldn’t stand a chance.
All to protect her.
“Brock, please—”
“If there’s a window in there, get out and meet me at the car.” He slipped the keys into the pocket of her sweater. The weight of them pulled at the material. “Be careful.” He pressed his lips to her temple, grabbed her elbows, and guided her to her feet. “Go now,” he barked, his voice hard.
She stood, rounded the table, and kept her head down as she sailed to the bathroom. When she turned to shut the door behind her, she saw one of the men charging across the library, a gun aimed at her.
“Get down!” Brock’s shout sent everyone in the room into a frenzy. Screams filled the space, echoing off the old walls and wooden bookcases. Brock threw a chair at the man advancing on her.
Crack!
The bullet hit the doorframe and drywall littered her face. She screamed and slammed the door shut, twisting the lock into place. Her pulse galloped in her chest and her skin turned cold. She backed away from the door, her hands cupped over her mouth and tears clouding her vision.
No, no, no. There was no way Brock would make it out of there alive.