Behind them, a limo pursued with lethal grace, closing the gap fast.
William swerved, and the momentum whipped Ike to the side, into his solid form. He nudged her away as he accelerated across the parking lot toward the road. Put on your belt.
Right. Sorry. Ike fumbled with the strap, fingers trembling from a mix of adrenaline and fear.
William glanced in the rearview mirror and cursed. Hang on. This could get rough.
Like itd been smooth before? Ike thought, her head starting to settle even as her pulse thundered in her ears. She smothered a half-hysterical giggle and jammed the seat belt lock in place. Then, refusing to look down at the ragged tears in the knees of her tight black pants, she braced her feet and nodded. Lets lose these bastards.
Here goes nothing.
He sent the car speeding along a deserted secondary road, easing up on the gas. The limo closed the distance and bullets pinged. Then, as they passed a cross road, William hit the gas and yanked the hand brake, all in one fluid movement. Tires screamed as the car nearly leaped off the road, then turned ninety degrees to their original path and slid sideways.
Ike gritted her teeth and hung on tight. She glanced out the window and saw the limos headlights aiming straight for her. Then William released the hand brake and accelerated. The BMW leaped forward, sailing down the cross street as the limo sped past.
William punched it, heading toward the highway as he weaved through the posh residential streets of Greenwich.
The speedometer edged past sixty, then seventy. Houses blurred on either side in darkness broken by streetlights at regular intervals, and Ike hung onto her seat. At eighty-five miles per hour, the vehicle vibrated and felt lighter, as though it might take flight at any moment.
She heard a low mutter of sound and for a second thought the engine was getting ready to shake apart. Then she looked across at William and saw that the noise was coming from him, a low chant. Come on, baby, come on.
He glanced across at her, eyes hard and somehow reassuring. Almost there.
Then they were there. The BMW flashed beneath an overpass, he downshifted and they screamed up an on-ramp onto the interstate. The limo was nowhere in sight.
Theyd made it.
Ike blew out a breath. Wow. That waswow. She unclamped her fingers from the edge of the leather seat, feeling joints pop. She worked her hands, staring at them. Then she looked over at Williams set profile. Thanks for the ride.
A muscle bunched in his jaw. Dont say another word until were back in the office. Then youre Maxs problem.
Annoyance flared quickly. I beg your
You want to walk?
Ike shut up.
WILLIAM DIDNT SAY another word to her, not even when they ditched the shot-up BMW, stripped the plates, which looked like clever fakes up close, and rented a Geo Metro under a name that definitely wasnt William Caine.
It was past midnight, and Ikes eyelids were drooping when he finally turned into the parking structure adjoining the New York offices of Vasek & Caine Investigations. Hed called ahead, and Max was waiting for them upstairs, along with his wife, Raine.
As always, the sight of Maxs wife sent a stab through Ike. Not because shed wanted Max for herself. Mr. Macho Protector made a fine friend, but she wouldnt have been caught dead dating him or anyone like him. No, her issue with Raine was even pettier than thatit was how she dressed.
Raine was ethereal. Delicate. Feminine. Her honey-colored hair fell from a careless knot atop her head, with wisps brushing against her purple shadowed eyes and full lips. Ike had always figured her look was the product of a damn good makeup routine, but given the late hour and the fact that Williams call had woken the newlyweds, she was forced to conclude that Raine had been born feminine and beautiful, the exact sort of woman that men gravitated toward every single time.
And that was so not fair.
Ike sniffed. He didnt need to wake you guys up. This couldve waited until morning.
Raines eyes flashed prettily. And you couldve listened to Max and let the men handle this. Because of you, weve got nothing.
The sting of truth had Ike baring her teeth. Letting the men handle things is your style, not mine. Besides, we wouldve been fine if James Bond here she indicated William with a jerk of her thumb hadnt broken cover. I couldve talked my way out of the situation.
She was spoiling for a fight, for something to dispel the residual buzz of adrenaline and the knowledge that William probably would have been an inducted member of The Nine by now if it werent for her.
He shot her a disgusted look and pointed to a chair. Sit there and stay quiet until we can figure out how to get you to Boston safely, where your boss can keep you under lock and key in the secure apartments while Max and I worked this out.
Max growled, And exactly what part of Max and Idid you miss when you went in there alone? You shouldve told me about the meeting. You couldve been killed. And now theyve seen your face. He glared from William to Ike and back. It wont take them long to figure out who crashed their little party tonight, and then theyll be coming for you. For all four of us. No doubt about that. He threw an arm around his wifes shoulders and hauled her close, face tight with worry.
Ike suppressed a shudder but said, Im far safer attacking than running. And far saner. The high security apartment building maintained by Boston General, where shed stayed for the first month after Zeds death, had felt more like a prison than protection.
Bull. William turned back to Max. Get her out of here. And keep her the hell away from me.
Ike stepped forward, shouldering between the two men. She focused on Max, silently urging him to understand how important this was to her. Please dont shut me out. I found their meeting place once and I can do it again. If we combine our efforts, we might manage to pull this off. She paused. If we work at cross-purposes, nothing says we wont get in each others way again.
Is that a threat? William growled, handsome face creasing towards menace as he took a step nearer her, crowding her space.
Ike shrugged and forced herself not to back up, hoping her sudden nerves didnt show, hoping he couldnt tell that she never felt completely at ease in his presence. Merely an observation, she said. My goal is stopping The Nine. I either work with you or I work alone. Your call.
She expected a split vote. Instead William cursed, shifted, did something with the lining of his jacket and pulled a ridiculously small camera from an inner compartment in his leather jacket. He held it out to her. Here. I got pictures of the three at the table. You can get me their names. The man with me was Paul Berryville, and as we came in, I heard one of them say something about Odin taking careof someone named Lukas Kupfer before a press conference. E-mail me whatever you find and for Gods sake, dont go anywhere alone. He glared at Max. Take her home with you. I dont want to see her until tomorrow.
Then he stalked out, slamming the door at his back.
BY TEN THE NEXT morning William was in a foul mood. Not just because of the debacle the day before, when hed lost four months of groundwork and a damn good cover, all thanks to an ungrateful amateur sleuth who couldnt be bothered to thank him. No, he was even more bothered by the knowledge that she was working just down the hall, in the spare office he sometimes used as a crash pad when it was too much work to take the subway home to his spare, minimalist place.
Then he stalked out, slamming the door at his back.
BY TEN THE NEXT morning William was in a foul mood. Not just because of the debacle the day before, when hed lost four months of groundwork and a damn good cover, all thanks to an ungrateful amateur sleuth who couldnt be bothered to thank him. No, he was even more bothered by the knowledge that she was working just down the hall, in the spare office he sometimes used as a crash pad when it was too much work to take the subway home to his spare, minimalist place.
Max had taken her to retrieve her Jeep, which theyd ditched in long-term parking at JFK, and then had driven her back to the office, leaving her for William to watch, which was just perfect as far as he was concerned. Just flipping perfect. There was nothing he liked better than babysitting on a Saturday morning. Worse, her very presence in the office distracted him, getting under his skin and making him twitchy.
After staring at his computer screen for nearly ten minutes with absolutely no idea what he was looking at, he tipped back in his chair and raised his voice to call, You need anything in there?
No answer.
A little louder, he said, Hey, Einstein! Max had said that was actually the name on her license, and William figured using a name like that out loud was guaranteed to tick off any rational woman.
Moments later, the phone next to his elbow rang. He picked it up. Vasek & Caine Investigations, William Caine speaking.
Did you want something?
He glared from the phone to the door and back before he scowled. You couldve walked down the hall.
So could you. I dont respond well to yelling.
He bared his teeth, welcoming the sting of annoyance. As far as I can tell, you dont respond well to much of anything. The first time Zach Cage introduced us at Boston General, you told me wed get along fine if I kept my FBI nose out of your computer systems. And the second time we met, you barked at me for passing info directly to Cage instead of going through you.
Her voice held an amused note when she said, Im flattered you remember me so well. Guess you thought I was cute, huh?
He remembered the incidents far too well, he realized with a start. He could picture her on each occasion, how her tight black clothes and high heeled boots had showcased a killer body and how her short black hair emphasized an angular face that was more arresting than classically beautiful. He remembered how shed glared at him and how shed stuck in his mind for too long after theyd parted ways each time.
Dont be flattered, he countered. I dont like working with people who dont know how to be part of a team.
Right. Which is why you went to your meeting at the Coach House without backup.
And I definitely, he said through gritted teeth, dont think youre cute.
He could think of a number of words to describe her, none of which were anywhere close to being as innocuous as cute.
Big surprise, she said drily. No doubt you like women who wear frilly dresses and lipstick. There was a pause, then a slight edge in her voice when she said, I dont suppose you sent meno. Never mind.
Williams instincts quivered to life. What?
I said never mind. She paused and her voice went hollow. Oh, God. Berryvilles dead. She said something else, but William was already hanging up the phone and heading for her office at a run.
He found her working three computers at once. On the leftmost screen his snapshots from the Coach House were matched against DMV photos of the three men. On the right shed pulled up a series of records for Dr. Paul Berryville, including his supposedly classified FDA background check. But it was the center screen that commanded Williams attention with a photograph of smoldering wreckage and the headline Eight top scientists killed in Catskills crash.
Ike didnt turn to look at him, but her body was tense beneath the black leather biker jacket she wore because they still had the heat turned off. Her voice held dull horror when she said, A charter jet flying a bunch of scientists to a private retreat lost power and crashed in upstate New York last night. The men we saw yesterday are dead, along with three other prominent scientists and their drivers. Odin wasnt taking any chances that theyd lead us to him.
Christ. William let out a breath, sickened by the realization that the leader of The Nine had killed his own people to make sure they wouldnt talk. Worse, given that Grosskill had ignored the evidence after Forsythes arrest, there was little chance the FBI would believe that the mythical leader of an imaginary group of scientific bogeymen was responsible for a charter plane crash.
He killed his own people, Ike repeated, voice shaking.
Id like to believe this means the end of The Nine, William said after a long moment. But Im afraid Im not that optimistic.
Ike nodded. Hell recruit and rebuild The Nine, maybe even stronger than before. She clicked on one photograph after the other, erasing the men from her screens. When she was done, all she had left was a blank monitor, which seemed to sum up their investigation. They had suspicions but no official backup, bodies but no suspects.
You got any ideas? William asked her, their personal differences seeming less important all of a sudden.
Maybe. Yes, I think so. She hit three computer keys in quick succession, bringing up a new screen on the middle monitor. I found Lukas Kupfer and the press conference they were talking about. Kupfer is a PhD at the Markham Institute near UMass Amherst. His lab is working on a treatment for a disease called Duchenne muscular dystrophy, and theyve got a big announcement planned for this Friday. Something about a new gene therapy protocol for Duchenne.
William stared at Kupfers file photo, which showed a bespectacled fortysomething man whose face held both laugh lines and sadness. They said Odin was going to handle it personally. That means we need to get someone inside Kupfers lab, pronto.
Ike tapped a few keys and brought up the Markham Institutes collaborators list. She indicated a pair of names. I know these two from Boston General. If I get Zach Cage involved, we could put together a decent cover story, maybe invent a visiting scientist at BoGen who wants to get a look at Kupfers research. Hed probably buy it.
William grimaced and shook his head. Unfortunately I dont know enough science to pull off a cover story in an academic lab.
Maybe not, Ike said. She glanced up at him. But I do.