Whispered Lies

“I don’t know.” Joe studied the sleek form of Josie Silversteen slipping through the crowd.

“Let’s find out what official capacity she’s here under.” Tee lifted her cell phone, tiny fingers typing in a blur. Hands that knew how to kill a man in more ways than Joe wanted to count. She paused, typed again, paused, and raised a suspicious gaze to him. “Silversteen is supposed to be on leave today. Her office has her listed as being in Miami.”

“Wonder if she knows something she isn’t sharing with anyone else?” Joe said quietly. “She has a reputation of not playing well with others.”

“Neither do I,” Tee muttered, then flashed a wicked look at Joe. “I’m going to find out what she knows. Think you can handle this without me?”

Joe sighed. “I would say be careful, but I’d only mean for you to be careful not to kill her.”

Tee patted his cheek. “Flattery will get you a night at the Ryman when we go home.” She tugged on the bottom of her jacket as if straightening her armor for battle.

Joe ignored the tease about the building housing his favorite Grand Ole Opry entertainment in Nashville and snagged Tee by the arm. At the flash of anger in her eyes for being detained, he whispered, “Be careful. Really.”

His codirector nodded, then moved away, her body moving with liquid grace.

Hunter said, “Everyone’s in place. Twenty minutes to go.”

“Let’s hope this Linette hasn’t steered us wrong.” Joe sca

“Yes, I told them to wait at Reagan Airport. Figured once this was over we were taking our best people to South America.”

“That’s the plan.” Not much of one since Joe doubted they’d get to Carlos and Retter before the agents were killed.

JOSIE FLASHED HER ID at one of the armed security guards overseeing the flood of people and teenagers being checked in and out of today’s meeting in the hearing.

“I feel for you guys having to deal with so many physically challenged kids. Has to be a nightmare getting everyone sca

“Like that’s going to happen.” The closest security guard with a military buzz cut and buff physique to back up that dangerous look allowed a grin. He reviewed her ID and checked her off his list of approved law enforcement, noting the time she exited, then waved her on. “Have a good day.”

She smiled, pla

Scientists in Fratelli labs had successfully tested the solid tubes of C-4 in security sca

In less than an hour, the U.S. power structure would be crippled beyond belief. No one had ever considered the possibility of losing the sitting president, vice president, the next four directly in line to the presidency, and the other presidential candidate a week before Tuesday’s polling.

This country would turn to number six in the government hierarchy, the secretary of the treasury, a Hispanic man with a spotless record who would be duly shocked by his new position. His opportune trip to Columbia would be called a miracle by some who would believe he was just one lucky bastard. From the ashes of a chaotic country desperate for a new president, he would show leadership in the interim that would prove him to be the best candidate once elections were resumed.

In spite of a twenty-two-year career in politics spent maneuvering himself into a position where he’d be appointed by the current administration, the man who would step into the president’s shoes was truly neither left-wing nor right-wing.

Josie smiled over the brilliant plan for putting a Fratelli in the White House.

TEE SHADOWED JOSIE two blocks from the congressional meeting. Her target entered an office building and passed up the elevator for the stairwell.

At the third floor, Josie went through a doorway to a hall that was very empty for a D.C. office building. Tee made a mental note to have someone research the offices rented along the hallway, but she’d bet every agreement would lead back to the same renter, who would be nonexistent by the time they located an address.

Tee mentally flipped through everything that could be going down. Kidnapping didn’t seem likely with so much security onstage. And why would Josie leave the site if she was part of an operation? If Josie wasn’t part of something going on here, then why would she lie to her office and show up at an event like this?

Trying to put herself in Josie’s shoes, Tee realized the only reason she would be off-site in an operation was if…something was going to happen at the site. Like a bomb.

Tee started texting Joe frantically.

Up ahead, Josie opened a door and vanished inside an office.

JOE READ THE text message from Tee, then stepped back from where he observed the crowd to speak softly into his transmitter, which would reach his entire team. “Tell all three television stations to go to commercial break in five seconds. I don’t care how you make it happen.” He headed for Dolinski.

NOT EXACTLY THE rescue Carlos had hoped for. Durand lay sprawled, a glassy-eyed stare fixed on his face. Carlos should feel something like remorse, but all he could muster was relief this monster would never harm Gabrielle, Maria, or Eduardo.

Salvatore hadn’t moved since stopping in front of where Carlos hung.

“Hola, Salvatore.” Carlos didn’t deny being Alejandro since lying in a situation like this wouldn’t help him. At least Salvatore would probably kill him with another bullet between the eyes instead of torturing him.

“You are the one Helena went to meet the day of the bomb,” Salvatore stated.

“Yes. I know you don’t believe me, but I never wanted her harmed,” Carlos told him, his voice thick.

The door slammed open again. Carlos kept his gaze on Salvatore since he couldn’t imagine a bigger threat than the one he was facing.

Retter came into view…wearing more artillery than Rambo. Except Retter was so much taller than Stallone. He had black grease on his face. Arms bulging with roped muscle held a.50-caliber machine gun. Two belts of ammunition crisscrossed over the black tank shirt on his chest. Black cargo pants were ripped and dirty as though he’d crawled through mud. Blood was splattered over him.

He’d never looked better to Carlos.

Salvatore didn’t blink an eye. In fact, he ignored Retter.

What the hell was going on? Carlos started to ask Retter when Salvatore spoke.

“I know you didn’t kill Helena or try to kill me. Durand tried to convince me the Valencia family set the bomb and that his family suffered from the explosion. When that didn’t work, he leaked that you had made the failed attempt on my life. He blamed his nephew’s injury that made him a paraplegic on you. We searched Helena’s diary for a clue on who had wanted her dead. I was not the only target, but I was warned not to go outside the store.”

The pain from the handcuffs cutting into Carlos’s wrists was nothing compared to the anguish shafting Salvatore’s eyes.

Salvatore lowered his gun. “She wrote about how the two of you believed you could end the war between our families. That might not have convinced me if one of my security men hadn’t told me what he heard on his radio. He sca