CHAPTER EIGHT #2
“Of course not,” Sam said as sharply. “What do I look like, a Red Cross worker? Oprah? Nick, he knows we have a file on him. He wants it. He wants to meet with you. It seems he cannot bear the idea that anyone might know about his past. We have leverage.”
“There is no we.”
Sam started. “What?”
“You’re off this case.”
Anger flared. “Are you kidding?”
“Do I look like the office clown? You heard. He’s working you to his advantage, and I’ve seen no sign that you can work him back.” Nick turned his back on her, walking to his desk and hitting the intercom.
In disbelief, she followed. “No one at HCU—no one at CDA—could have stopped him from getting away with the page yesterday.”
“Probably not. But you could have died in that car chase. You’re lucky you didn’t kill anyone. Your judgment sucked. It sucked when you put him in handcuffs. It sucks now. I’m pulling you off Maclean before something really bad happens—to you or a civvie.”
She fought her temper and her intense dismay. “I can help you make a deal, Nick, the file for the page. I know him now better than anyone. You need me.”
Nick didn’t respond.
“So who will you put on him? MacGregor? They’ll get along just great! You need a woman agent on him, Nick. Kit? She’d be out of her league. At least I can play him while he plays me. At least I have something he wants.”
“I’m putting Jan on him,” Nick said calmly. “You’re right—a female agent makes it less adversarial. I’m sure she can play him as well as any woman can—if not better.”
She went still. “Like hell.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Sam breathed. She could barely think straight or see clearly. She only knew she didn’t want Maclean within a mile of Jan. The idea made her furious. She knew him better than anyone!
“Are you becoming attached to the perp, Sam?” Nick asked softly.
“He’s mine. He’s my mission, my target, mine.
And you know I can’t stand her,” Sam said tersely, refusing to consider why she was so angry now.
“You know I do not quit. I always win! I will admit he’s a bit of a challenge.
I’ll even admit I am fighting the temptation not to feel sorry for him!
So what? It makes winning more of a challenge, that’s all.
And I will win. But I will not stand idly by and have her wiggle her ass around him, and feel sorry for him, and try to comfort him! I mean it. Do this and I quit.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to quit. Because Jan is going to tail him now and you’re reassigned as we speak.” He picked up a folder and handed it to her. “You called 911 yesterday at 2:03 p.m. That’s when Maclean walked into the adjacent building, right?”
Sam was so angry that she was trembling. She reminded herself to be a pro and answer his questions before she gave him the finger. She reminded herself that Jan was a prude, but then gave that up. Maclean would seduce her, she knew it. Jesus—she almost felt jealous. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“He was next seen at 3:47 p.m., getting out of a taxi and entering his Park Avenue home. He was carrying the parcel he’d left One Hemmer House with, which he gleefully deposited in the corner trash before going inside.”
She was still seething over Jan being assigned to Maclean, making it hard to stay entirely focused. She was sick with dismay. “That’s Maclean’s way of saying ‘fuck you.’ He obviously stashed the page on his way home. I can find out where it is, Nick. Me…not Jan. I’m making progress with him.”
Nick snorted. “Yeah, the thumping-mattress kind.”
“We’re adversaries, not lovers. But he wants me and I’m using it.
Not only that, I’m figuring him out—which is incredibly difficult, by the way, considering what he’s gone through.
The more I know about his captivity, the better it would be.
I can get that page, if I can figure out his motivation.
And we’ve been invited to Hemmer’s tonight—him and me, together. ”
Nick folded his arms and stared. “The evil in the vault,” he said thoughtfully.
“It needs to be checked out. It could be dangerous.” Sam barreled on.
“I came on board the moment you crooked your finger when Brie was abducted last year. I’ve worked harder than anyone ever since and you know it.
I am asking for a one-time favor. I am getting close to Maclean—in more ways than the thumping-mattress kind. Let me continue.”
He thought about it. Nick usually made most decisions in a heartbeat. “You think you can work with Jan and not scratch each other’s eyes out?”
“Oh, I won’t scratch her eyes out, don’t worry about that.
But I might put a bullet in her fat wagging ass.
” She smiled coldly. If Jan dared send Maclean one coy look, she’d do it, too.
“I can handle Maclean. Don’t reassign me and don’t make me work with that false-lashed and false-everything-else, bottle-blond secretary. ”
“Jan is at the top of this game,” Nick said.
“And my gut says you are finally in over your head.” Sam snorted.
“We’ve already checked out art dealers in the city and the surrounding boroughs, in Long Island, New Jersey and the north of Pennsylvania.
We’ve got nothing. I’m starting to think he sent the page somewhere, maybe even out of this time, or it’s in private hands.
Of course, he doesn’t have friends, so that might make it a bit of a problem.
And it’s the real deal. The photos you took when you were inside were analyzed yesterday while you guys were playing Bonnie chases Clyde. ”
Even though she hadn’t gone into work yesterday, she’d e-mailed the photos she’d taken while in the vault from her BlackBerry. She crossed her arms and stared. “Are you going to tell me what power the page has?”
Nick smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Sam felt a chill go down her spine. “How bad is it?”
“Put it this way—we don’t want our enemies having this power.”
Sam waited.
“It’s the power of illusion,” Nick said. “Or, in plain English, it’s the power of virtual control.”
“HE’S HERE,” Jan said over the intercom.
Sam’s heart lurched. But that was because Jan was now her partner, not because Ian Maclean was on his way up to Nick’s office. He did not have that effect on her—no one did.
“Great,” she said. “Hey, don’t forget to add the falsies before the big meet and greet. That is why you’re on the way to the ladies’ room, right?”
Jan cut her off.
Sam stood, her pulse racing, which dismayed her. She had to stay professional. And that wasn’t the easy task it had once been. She opened her desk drawer and stared at the DVD in it. She’d made a copy.
She slowly closed the drawer. Jan was undoubtedly powdering her porcelain nose and applying lipstick and hitching up her control-top pantyhose. But even her falsies wouldn’t distract a man from that DVD.
Not that she’d decided to show it to Maclean.
Nick claimed she wasn’t in control. If she showed Ian the sex tape, she’d be in charge. Sam had not a doubt. Unless, of course, he’d already seen it.
The thought made her breathless.
She’d make the decision about whether to show him the tape or not down the road, she decided. If he hadn’t seen it, the choice to reveal the DVD to him was a powerful weapon hidden up her sleeve. She’d be wagging the dog the moment she did so, and not by its tail. Sam smiled.
But it was time to think about the negotiation to come.
She was thoughtful, as she’d been for the past two hours since Nick had explained the power of the page of illusion to her.
They wanted and needed the power, because they had to keep it from winding up in the wrong hands.
Ian wanted his file. A trade would be so perfect, except that he wanted a few hundred million dollars, too.
Did Ian know what the page could do? She hoped not.
If he did, then the fact that he’d sell it to anyone made him ruthlessly selfish, with no concern at all for the welfare of anyone innocent.
Maybe she was becoming attached, because she refused to believe he could be ruthless like that. Or, she didn’t want to believe it.
The power of virtual control was truly terrifying.
A person would believe and feel whatever the power broker wanted him or her to believe and feel.
If Sam were a victim of that power, she could be standing in Nick’s office but think herself lost in a blizzard in the Arctic, freezing to death.
She wouldn’t see the office walls. She wouldn’t even see Nick.
She’d be wandering in a blizzard, blinded by the snow and freezing to death.
Sam wondered if a person rescued from the effects of such power would wind up frost-bitten and ice-burned. Nick didn’t know. Neither one of them wanted to find out.
It wasn’t hard to believe that such a power could exist. The question was, had the power survived the ages?
The Masters of Time believed in the Duisean, and she did, too.
In fact, the Book of Roses had mentioned other great books, other dynasties and secret sects, all dedicated to the preservation of mankind in different parts of the world and other times, all with various magic and powers.
The war between good and evil was as old as time.
The Celtic gods had given the Duisean to the Masters centuries ago, well before Christ, when their godly powers had been strongest. In those early days, magic had abounded.
The gods had frequently shown themselves to mankind.
In medieval times, not only were the Masters powerful, the gods were fairly active still, even if most of the medieval world didn’t know it.
The page had surely had immense power then.
But near-immortals like the Masters were becoming rarer and rarer, even as evil was exploding in population and power.
There was less magic in the world now than there used to be.
The question was, did the page of illusion still have the same power? She’d asked Nick.
“Who knows? Can we take the chance that it does not?”