Sixteen

Parisa drew in a breath, knowing that she needed to tell Jared everything, not just because he was in danger, too, but because he might be able to help her figure things out. He could be more objective, bring a new perspective.

"Vincent Rowland is Westley's godfather," she said. "He was at the party. I actually spoke to him right after I first caught you staring at me. You probably saw him."

"Sure. I remember him—older man, gray hair, looked like he was someone familiar with money and power." Jared's gaze narrowed. "Why did you ask Damon if he was hanging around the FBI offices?"

"Because he's former FBI. He was an agent for over twenty years, one of the best. His son, Jamie, was in my training group at Quantico. The first week, they put us in teams of six. We did all of our training assignments together. We interviewed each other, analyzed each other, put ourselves through lie detector tests, stripped ourselves bare of our secrets, and became really, really close. But a few weeks before graduation, we were on a training mission, a hostage situation in a high-rise building. During the extraction of the hostages, Jamie fell and died. No one really knew what happened. Jamie was out of sight from all of us when he fell. In the end, the investigators determined that it was human error. Vincent was not happy with that conclusion, but there was a very thorough review of every detail. And Jamie was known for taking risks. He was fearless and probably a little overconfident. But he shouldn't have died. I know we've all felt guilty and wondered if we could have done something differently."

"I'm sorry, Parisa," Jared said quietly.

"It was tragic."

"So, why are you suspicious of his father now?"

"Vincent has kept in touch with all of us since Jamie's death, having us over for a memorial celebration every single year for the last four years. We thought it was because we were the last links to his son. But at the most recent celebration, I thought Vincent was acting strangely. He seemed more obsessed with the details of the accident than ever before. He kept asking me questions about it. And I started to feel really uncomfortable. I didn't think much about it after I left, but in the past year things have been happening to our remaining group of five that we can't quite explain. Three of my friends have had to run for their lives, and during each situation, there has been some problem at the bureau, some leak, some information disseminated that should have been kept secret. It's nothing particularly noticeable. There's usually a way to rationalize it. But some of my former classmates are starting to think that Vincent might be responsible, that he might be trying to get back at us by messing up our assignments."

"That sounds a little out there," he commented.

"I thought so, too, but when you look at the pattern of what's going on, it starts to make more sense. Anyway, when I saw him at the party, I was surprised. But then he explained he's Westley's godfather, and it made perfect sense that he would be there."

"But now you're wondering if he's the one leaking your whereabouts at every turn."

"He doesn't work at the bureau, but he has a lot of friends in the New York field office who do work there, including Deputy Director Peter Hunt. As Westley's godfather, it's not surprising to anyone that Vincent would be spending time in the office trying to help with the investigation. But it does make me wonder."

"Okay. What about Damon Wolfe? What's his story?"

"Damon was in my Quantico group. He's part of the original six, and I trust him completely. He's not selling me out. He had his own problems with the bureau less than a year ago. He almost died. After his case was resolved, they cleaned house in the New York office. But maybe a new mole has sprung up or has been there all along."

"Let's say you're right. Vincent is looking to get some sort of payback where you're concerned. When did he put his plan into motion?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before or after the attack at the consulate? Was Vincent behind your invitation to the party? If he was, that would mean he knew the kidnapping was coming."

"That's interesting. Maybe he did want me at the party. Maybe he set that up." She considered that scenario for a second. "It would tie in with the fact that I never asked for an invitation, but the family thought I did. But how would he have known I'd go upstairs with Jasmine? Unless, he's the one who told Jasmine I wanted to talk to her privately. That actually makes sense, too. But what doesn't make sense is Vincent's motivation to hurt his godson. I can't see why he'd pick Westley's engagement party to get revenge on me."

"I can't, either. Unless we're completely off base on who is behind the kidnapping. We've been focused in on Bezikstan and the rebel group that was involved in Paris."

"Because of Ben's involvement," she pointed out. "He's the link."

"But that diamond would be worth a lot to many people. Even Anika had a theory about Westley wanting the diamond," he reminded her.

"True. And Vincent probably has connections who would be able to help him unload it," she said slowly, pondering that possibility. "Vincent and Westley could have been working together to steal the diamond. Westley could have convinced Hutchinson to hire the shady security company."

"Or Westley could have told Hutchinson to ask Vincent who to hire. With Rowland's FBI connections, that might have made sense."

"But those guards died because of those toxic fumes. Would Vincent kill other people to get to me?"

"Maybe you were just the icing on the cake. He might have been willing to kill to get his hands on a fifty-million-dollar diamond, and getting you involved was just a bonus."

"And the fumes might not have been meant to be that deadly." She paused. "Vincent did speak to me about the value of the diamond at the party. He also mentioned the curse, which is fairly irrelevant, although I suppose people might think the diamond is cursed after what happened to Jasmine." She glanced at Jared. "But let's back up and say that Vincent had nothing to do with the theft. How else could he be involved?"

"Well, getting back at you could simply be a crime of opportunity. Vincent figured you were already a target, because you were the only witness to the kidnapping. If you died, everyone would assume the kidnappers had taken you out. But that assumes the fact that Vincent wants to kill you. It seems that your other friends are very much still alive, no matter what else they've gone through."

"Which is why we don't know what's going on. Are we that good at surviving, or is Vincent that bad at killing us? Or is there some other plan in the works, and this is all just a warmup, a form of personal torment?" She sighed. "I don't think I can come up with an answer with the facts I currently have."

"Probably not."

"And I'm more concerned about Jasmine than myself. I'm also worried about you. Today, you were clearly seen with me, Jared. And I did give your name to Damon when I first spoke to him yesterday, which seems like a million years ago now. He ran your name through our database; there's a record of that. Because of me, you're probably not as invisible as you thought you were."

He shrugged. "I'm not concerned about that."

"You should be. You could have been shot today."

"But I wasn't."

"They'll try again."

"We'll be ready."

"Does that mean we're still partners?" she asked, happy to see that his earlier anger had dissipated.

He frowned as he turned his gaze back on her. "I don't like what you did, Parisa. We were working together, and you went behind my back. How can I trust you?"

"It was an impulsive decision, Jared. When I was waiting in the restaurant, I started thinking about how much needed to be done, how many boots were required on the ground, how many people might need to be investigated, places to be searched, and how little time there was before the ransom payoff. That overrode everything. All I could think about was that I didn't want Jasmine to die."

"People died in Paris, too."

"I know that," she said, noting the depth of emotion in his voice. "But Jasmine is in danger now. And you know how critical it is to find her as soon as possible." She tilted her head, giving him a long look. "I told you who I am, Jared. Now, you need to tell me who you are. Let's put all our cards on the table. No more secrets. Who do you work for?"

He gave her a long, hard look and then he said, "CIA."

She let out a breath, a little surprised he'd actually told her, but not really shocked he was CIA. "So, you're a spy."

"I prefer operative."

"Were you in Paris at the time of the explosion?"

"Yes."

"When did you come back to New York?"

"Two weeks ago. When I realized Ben might be involved, I followed him back here."

"So, your apartment is really new."

"I rented it furnished."

"Why are you working alone, Jared? Or are you working alone? What is the CIA's involvement in this?"

"The agency is not involved in the investigation into Jasmine's kidnapping, unless someone on some level is working with the bureau, providing information on Bezikstan radical groups. But that person is not me."

"But the CIA is looking into Paris."

He hesitated. "Yes, but not with as much intensity as I would like."

He was answering her questions, but he still wasn't giving her much. As she studied the shadows in his light-green eyes, it all clicked in to place. "You knew one of the Paris victims, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because you didn't need to know."

"You're not going to give me that CIA bullshit, are you?"

"It's true. You didn't need to know."

"Well, I do now. Who died in Paris? Was it a friend, a girlfriend, a relative?"

"It was a coworker, a fellow operative. Her name was April." He turned away from her, staring out the front window, as he tapped his fingers restlessly on the steering wheel.

"You and April were working a case in Paris?"

"It actually started in London."

"Tell me about it."

"We started tracking the Brothers of the Earth after they took credit for a bombing on the outskirts of London, at a concert venue."

"I remember that."

"That's when Isaac Naru came up on our radar, and his stepsister, Sara. Sara traveled to Paris, and April thought she was our best shot at getting someone with access to the inner circle, so April followed Sara to France. I was still working on the London angle, so we split up for a time."

"Did April make contact with Sara?"

"Yes. April got a job at the Café Douceur where Sara worked. She and Sara hit it off right away. But then Sara got a visit from an old friend and was suddenly caught up in a love affair with a former boyfriend from Bezikstan—Ben Langdon. April took a wait-and-see approach, wondering if Ben was also part of the group. But as the days passed, April began to wonder if Sara would be of any use at all. She and Ben just seemed to be having a romance. Sara wasn't meeting with Isaac or doing anything that tied her to the radical group. April told me she was about to call it and come back to London."

"What changed?"

"Isaac showed up in Paris. April met him at the café. He was friendly, flirty. She decided to make a play for him. While the group only allows men to be official members, there are lots of women around to support the men."

"I'm assuming it worked. She caught Isaac's interest."

"Yes. She went out with him several times. One night she heard Isaac talking to someone in Hindi about an opportunity to stop time, which is what they claim their bombings are about—to stop time and make everyone realize that there is only one right way." He paused. "April knew she was getting closer to some valuable information, so she turned up her romance with Isaac. She was thrilled when he wanted to introduce her to some of his friends, who had recently arrived from London. He thought she would like them and appreciate their values."

She drew in a breath, knowing where his story was going. April had been acting just like she would have acted in a similar situation. April had been trying to get inside the circle, so she could bring down the terror group. "What happened?"

"She told me to come to Paris—that the London group I'd been following was already there. I had one more meeting with a friend working for British intelligence, so I didn't leave right away."

Parisa was beginning to realize that Jared's motivation probably came from guilt as well as a lot of other emotions.

"The next day, April texted me, saying that the group was taking orders from someone else, and that person was either in Bezikstan or the US; she wasn't sure. She had a hunch, but she had some questions to ask Isaac. They were going to meet at the café that afternoon. I was supposed to be there, too. But I ran late. I was half a block away when the bomb went off."

Her pulse jumped. "Oh, my God. You saw it happen." She put her hand on his leg, feeling the need to touch him, to comfort him in some small way. "I am so sorry, Jared."

"I found April. There was so much blood…" He drew in a breath. "Her eyes were open, but she was shaking all over. I knew she wasn't going to make it. She told me to tell her parents that she loved them, and that she'd been happy in Paris, doing exactly what she wanted to do."

"I told them she could tell them herself, that she was going to be all right. I lied to her."

"You were trying to be comforting."

"I could have used that time to ask her what she'd found out, but I didn't. I probably had two minutes to get a name or two. Instead, I told her to imagine going to her favorite place—which was Yosemite. She was an avid rock climber. This dreamy expression came into her eyes, and it was the last thing I saw."

"You gave her some peace."

"I should have gotten the information."

"She might not have had a name. It seems to me that April was the kind of woman who would have made sure you had a lead if she had one."

"I don't know. I think she was just too far gone."

"Who else died at the café?"

"The manager. The bomb went off in the kitchen area. Some guests were injured, but they survived. And as I mentioned before, Sara called in sick that day. She had to have known what was going to happen."

"You think April was the target?"

"Yes. I believe that Isaac made her as CIA or something, and he decided to stop time and stop her with one fatal blow."

She stared into his eyes, seeing the pain and the anger. "I hope I'm not being insensitive, but I just want to know the whole story. Were you and April in love? Were you involved?"

"No. We were friends and partners. We had worked a lot of missions together. We'd saved each other's life. We'd had each other's back. But it was always about the job for us. April was in love with a guy back home—where she grew up in Montana. He was a rancher, a homebody. She'd had a chance with him, but she'd chosen the CIA instead. She'd wanted to see the world. But there was a part of her that thought that one day she'd go home and marry him and have babies."

"She thought he'd wait for her?"

"I don't know if she really believed it, or if it was just a story she told herself." He paused, gathering his thoughts for a moment. "I cared a lot about April, and I want to get justice for her. I also want to stop the Brothers of the Earth from blowing anyone else up. It's what she wanted more than anything, and the best thing I can do for her is to make that happen."

She nodded. "I get it, Jared. April sounds like an amazing person."

"She was tenacious. Sometimes she got tunnel vision—a little like you."

"I can be guilty of that."

"It's not the worst trait in the world," he said with a sad smile.

"You didn't let April down, Jared."

"I didn't say I did."

"But that's what you think." She could see the shadowy truth in his eyes. "You blame yourself for not getting to Paris sooner, for letting her get in too deep without backup. But clearly you had a target that you were working in London. And she was a skilled operative. Right?"

"She'd actually been at the agency two years longer than I had."

"There you go. She knew what she was doing. She knew the risks."

"She was good undercover. I don't know how Isaac figured out she was an agent. But I do know I'm going to bring him and his band of brothers down."

"Maybe a sister, too," she said lightly.

"Oh, yeah, Sara is also on my hit list, and if Ben belongs there, too…"

He didn't have to finish his statement. "Then he should also be punished," she agreed. "I know his father saved my life, and I let Elizabeth believe that I would let that debt guide my actions, but I have my priorities straight."

"Glad to hear it."

"Thanks for telling me about April. It must be incredibly difficult for you to have lost two people you loved in terrorist attacks."

"I have to admit that the explosion in Paris set off a lot of triggers for me. But all of it just makes me more determined to do what I can to prevent other people from having to live through those moments."

"Okay, but why does it feel like you're acting alone, Jared? Or is that just my impression? Does the agency want you to work me? Do they think I'm the one who will lead you to Isaac and Sara? Because of my ties to Bezikstan?"

"No. The agency put me on leave for ninety days. After Paris, I got a little heated with one of the deputy directors."

She raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Slugged him. He had it coming. He prevented me from following a lead that might have gotten me to Isaac before he disappeared."

"Why would he do that?"

"Because unbeknownst to me and April, the agency had had an asset in Brothers of the Earth for months, and the company wanted to protect that asset."

"Who is the asset?"

"Apparently, I don't need to know. I was shut out of the investigation, told to take a mandatory leave and get my head together."

"But you're working with someone."

"A longtime friend here in New York. He's feeding me what information he can without completely jeopardizing his job. But after what happened today, it's possible the agency is going to find out what I've been doing."

"Could you lose your job?"

"Possibly. But if I can bring down the group, I'll take the win and leave."

"You're putting everything on the line."

"That's the only way I know how to work."

She completely understood that. She was exactly the same way. "Leave everything on the field, right?"

He smiled. "Go big or go home. I'm sure your competitive drive would appreciate that."

"Yes. And I'd do the same thing if someone I cared about had died. I'd want what you want—justice. So, are we still working together?"

"Until you pull the rug out from under me again."

"I won't do that. And I trust you won't, either."

He tipped his head. "Deal. Now, I have a very important question for you, Parisa."

"What's that?" she asked warily.

"Do you like tacos?"

"Does anyone not like tacos?" she countered.

"I'll take that as a yes. There's an amazing food truck stop just up the road, and one of those trucks has the best tacos you will ever eat."

"I'm in."

"Why don’t we both turn off our phones? I don't think anyone is tracking us through them, but just to be sure…"

"Done," she said, pulling out her phone. "It's just you and me, Jared."

"Let's try to keep it that way."