“Again, no blood trail.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Noble clenched his eyelids and lowered his chin to his chest and shook his head.

  “What is it?”

  “Body armor.”

  “Body armor?”

  “I aimed dead center. From that distance with that rifle it gave me the best chance to terminate him. Bastard was ready for it. Ready for us. He’s still alive.”

  Steele pulled a small blue spiral bound notebook from her pocket and jotted something down, presumably a reminder to have analysts start looking for signs Samara was still alive. She closed the notebook with the pen inside, but didn’t put it back in her pocket.

  “Tell me what happened next,” she said.

  “We loaded up in Farah’s car, almost got splattered by a van who tried to give chase afterward, then made it out to Farah’s contact’s house. She gave us transport to Turkey.”

  “Did you catch the woman’s name?”

  Noble shook his head.

  “Remember anything about her?”

  He shrugged.

  “Think you can pick out on a map where she lived?”

  “What’s this about? You think she’s involved?”

  Steele said nothing.

  “The woman got us out of the country. Makes her an asset in my book.” He paused. “Speaking of assets, is Farah on the payroll here? I never could figure that out.”

  Steele shifted the notebook to her other hand. “I won’t confirm that we’ve ever paid her, but she is not our employee or contractor.”

  “So she was Schofield’s contact.”

  “She’s a lot of people’s contact. Tell me about how she acted at the safe house.”

  Noble thought about this. He didn’t have much interaction with Farah once they arrived in Istanbul. “We got there. I cleaned up, changed, and told O’Neil I’d deliver a message to Taavi. Farah stopped me on the way out. She said she would be gone before we got back. And when we got back, she wasn’t there.”

  “Neither was O’Neil.”

  “Right.”

  Steele opened her notebook and clicked the tip of her pen. She started to write something, but stopped and looked up at Noble. “Did Farah ever give you any indication that she knew of O’Neil prior to this?”

  “No, and neither did O’Neil of her. O’Neil was out of it until around the time we landed in Turkey. Whatever they sedated her with, it did the trick.” He watched as she wrote something down. “What’s going on here, Steele? What aren’t you telling me?”

  Steele looked up at him with a cold stare. The woman gave nothing away. “I’m simply gathering facts, Jack. At this point, I have no idea what is going on here. If you want me level with you—”

  “I do.”

  “Well, then, let me continue without interruption.” She raised an eyebrow and went silent for a few moments. Satisfied Noble wasn’t going to say anything else, she continued. “O’Neil obviously had enemies outside the Agency. But there may have been some within. She might have had motivation to kill Schofield, too, based on their past relationship. But to wipe out his entire team?”

  Noble waited a couple of seconds, then said, “No witnesses that way.”

  “Back to Samara. If the line of thinking is that he didn’t die, and wasn’t injured, is correct, could he have led the attack? Considering what they were able to arrange with O’Neil’s broad daylight abduction, that isn’t out of the question.”

  “That was my first thought,” he said. “Not Samara, because at the time he was dead to me, but someone in his group…the people in the van, or contacts they had in Istanbul. But here’s the thing.”

  She leaned forward, notebook wide open in one hand, pen in the other, ready to scribble on the page.

  “All of O’Neil’s stuff was missing. It wasn’t much, but clothing, toiletries, a couple books. All gone.”

  “What kind of terrorist takes that into consideration?” Steele said more to herself than Noble.

  “Right, that’s exactly what I thought.”

  Steele rose and paced across the room with the notebook folded in her hand. She gnawed on the end of the pen, almost like she was smoking a cigar. She was an athletic woman, trim and toned, with healthy skin. Practically wrinkle free. Noble doubted she had smoked a day in her life. Maybe hadn’t ever taken a drink.

  “Could the whole thing have been set up?” Steele said.

  “Finding her?” Noble asked.

  “Abducting her.” Steele stopped in front of him. “Think about it. Broad daylight. Never mind that the police turned a blind eye. She allowed herself to be caught in that situation. This woman was one of the best. Better than Cribbs on her worst day. She was that good. This never should have happened. Never sat right with me or Cribbs or McKenzie that it had happened.”

  “They beat her, though. You saw the pictures.”

  Steele found her way back to the chair. “I know what you saw, and I know how you must feel about it. But believe me, we’ve seen far worse done to our people. She was in captivity for two weeks. Not a broken bone on her? No fingernails taken? No fingertips taken, for that matter. Why?”

  “Simple. She sang.”

  “Did she? Are we sure of that? Did she tell you that? Are you qualified to interrogate her in a way that feels friendly to get that information out of her?”

  Noble sat there, said nothing. He felt like his mother was lecturing him over eating her fresh chocolate chip cookies before dinner when he’d been instructed not to.

  “I’m just throwing questions out there, Jack. Something doesn’t add up here. We’ve got a team processing the house right now. What they come back with might clear up a few things.”

  “Such as?”

  “How many shooters. Doesn’t sit well with me that only one person did all that. Not with the men inside that house. Even Serkan, a driver, had enough training to make the odds severely not in her favor, four versus one.” Steele rose and walked to the door. She stopped there and looked back at him. “Get dressed. I’ll see you and Bear at my office in thirty.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Noble and Bear were led through a maze of corridors to a windowless office in a building near the edge of the facility. Beyond it was a stretch of forest. The man escorting them opened the door and stepped away. The room was bigger than Noble had expected. Steele sat at a desk in the center of the room. An older man dressed in a grey suit and tie was seated opposite her. McKenzie nodded at the men, then turned his gaze on Steele

  They entered and heard a gruff Chicago accent from the right. “You boys did a helluva job over there.”

  Noble felt an iron press down on his chest and went rigid. Bear glanced over at Cribbs and nodded.

  Cribbs stepped around the big man and faced them both. He stood there for a long moment, eyes set on Noble, who did his best to avoid looking at the man. He focused on his breath, in and out, cool and warm.

  Cribbs extended his hand. After a few seconds of it dangling in front of Noble, Cribbs said, “Don’t be a damned fool, take it. You won’t get this opportunity that often with me.”

  “I don’t deserve it,” Noble said, looking at Steele instead of Cribbs. “We didn’t bring her home.”

  “But you got her out of Aleppo, and might’ve stumbled on something far worse than an agent in captivity.”

  “Why don’t you guys take a seat?” Steele rose and gestured at the empty chairs in front of her desk.

  Noble glanced at Steele once again. She looked away for a moment, but that was all it took. They’d unearthed something else, and when taken with what Noble and Bear had gone through, it led them to an even more dire discovery.

  After they were all seated, Noble spoke first. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation, Steele. I’m still trying to put these pieces together. But the thing that sticks out is this possibility that Samara had on body armor.”

  “Body armor?” Bear said.

  Noble nodded. “When I looked back on the scene, there was no way a car got to him. Not down that alley. And if anyone had carried him, there should’ve been blood everywhere, but we hardly found any.”

  “There was plenty on the ground where he’d collapsed.”

  “True, but we don’t know that was his, or that it came from a fatal wound. Maybe I got him in the arm with a round. Doesn’t matter. He got up and walked away. Do you think he walked around with protective gear on all the time? It’s doubtful. Someone tipped him off.”

  “Then how come we found Khoury unprepared? He wasn’t wearing a vest.”

  “No, he wasn’t. Perhaps there was tension between them. What if Samara let Khoury die there?” Noble twisted in his seat and faced Bear. “Doesn’t it seem odd how little resistance we faced before finding O’Neil? I mean, how many guards did we encounter in that building? They’re holding an American operative, and we only have to go through a couple guys to reach her?”

  “It was a setup,” Bear said.

  Steele cleared her throat, drawing the attention of all four men. “I’m beginning to agree with you, and things only get worse from here.”

  “What is it?” Bear asked.

  “Either of you speak Romanian?” McKenzie said.

  “Romanian? What?”

  “Spanish, French, Russian,” Bear said. “That’s it.”

  Noble said, “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  “This is serious,” McKenzie said. “O’Neil had eight direct reports. When the abduction went down, they split into two groups. Two men came home. Checked in within five minutes of wheels down.” He took a sip from his mug. “Two were dead. The other four went to Bucharest, Romania. They left a trail, whether knowingly or not. We never heard from them, though, and only recently located them hiding out at an apartment rented in a fictitious name.”

  “Have you made contact?” Noble asked.

  “Yes,” McKenzie said.

  “Could they offer any insight into O’Neil’s dealings?”

  “No,” McKenzie said.

  “What’d they say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why not? Couldn’t extract anything out of them?”

  “They were all dead.”

  Noble leaned back in his chair, paused, asked, “Any idea who did it?”

  “We have a few suspects,” Steele said.

  “The two men that came back Stateside,” Noble said. “How long’s it been since you’ve spoken with them?”

  “They were put on leave,” Steele said. “We have it set up to alert if they attempt to travel outside of the country.”

  “Have they?” Bear asked.

  Steele directed her gaze at him. “Not that we are aware.”

  “If they travelled back,” Bear said. “They could have been in place near that apartment, waiting for O’Neil’s return.”

  “There’s no way she took all those men out at the house in Istanbul,” Cribbs said. “Too much ground to cover against highly-trained agents. She’s as good as any I’ve ever seen, but even then, there’s just no way. And then, presuming she’s the shooter in Bucharest, to terminate four men from her own team? We’re talking about men I had a hand in training. She had help.”

  “If it was her,” McKenzie said. “We have to remain a little paranoid, but let’s not jump to conclusions without the intelligence to back it up.”

  “What does the intelligence say?” Noble asked.

  McKenzie took a few moments to collect himself before answering. “It doesn’t say a damn thing.”

  The room went silent after that. McKenzie was the first to leave, followed by Cribbs, who offered his hand to Noble and Bear again and told them he was proud of their actions.

  “I’d fight alongside either of you,” he said as he left Steele’s office.

  Noble and Bear returned to their seats opposite Steele. She had poured three cups of coffee. Noble refused creamer and sugar. He always did. Coffee was a pick-me-up and nothing else. He didn’t want to become addicted to the stuff like his old man, and figured if he drank it black, he’d never enjoy the taste. He took a swig and battled the bitter aftertaste.

  “What’s next for us?” he asked Steele.

  “You’re flying out on a private jet in a few hours,” she said. “Taking you there myself. It’s not as tough to get you into Romania, but we’re going to limit the amount of time you have to spend standing in line.”

  “You think O’Neil will be watching?” Bear asked.

  Steele tapped her pen on a desk calendar in a chaotic fashion. “I think if she went through the trouble to set up her own safe house under a fictitious name, she’s probably corralled a few assets to work for her. The airport would be a good spot to have an informant.”

  “Why Romania, though?”

  “Easy to blend in for her.” Steele closed her eyes and leaned back in her high-back leather chair. Tension drained from her face. She came to, said, “I can’t figure out the end game here. She can’t be working with Samara. I just don’t see it.”

  “Then who?” Noble said. “I can’t see any other scenario.”

  “No offense, Jack, but you haven’t been around this business long enough to develop those kind of instincts. Trust the people we have sifting through the data. What they uncover, combined with what you find on the ground, will bring everything into light.”

  A silent lull offered Steele the chance to spin in her chair and grab two packets off the credenza. She set one in front of each man.

  “What’s this?” Bear asked.

  “Creds, IDs, cash, credit cards,” she said. “Everything you’ll need.”

  “Will we have a contact when we arrive?” Noble asked.

  Steele shook her head. “On your own. The apartment address is noted in there. We’ve got a place for you to stay across the street. Surveillance should be simple.”

  As she had said, Noble hadn’t been around all that long, but even he knew nothing should be taken for granted as simple.

  Steele reached into her pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, set it down in front of Bear.

  He held it up, shook it, gave her a quizzical look.

  “Take two now,” she said, “and you’ll be out before the plane races down the runway.”

  “How…?”

  “I know more about you two than your own mothers.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Bucharest was blanketed in a late-afternoon orange haze as Noble and Bear pulled up to the curb behind the apartment building. The cab driver collected his fare, then drove off. The two men didn’t linger on the frozen sidewalk long. They hustled around to the side entrance, unlocked the door, and stepped in from the cold.

  A young woman with a baby strapped to her chest stood in front of a long bank of mail slots, rifling through a stack of envelopes. Her long blond hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. She glanced back. Dark circles hung under her eyes. Her gaze lingered on Bear for a few extra seconds while a crease formed over her eyebrows.

  He’d learned three phrases in Romanian before he passed out on the plane. A greeting, a goodbye, and directions to the bathroom. He spoke all three of them to the woman. She looked away without responding.

  In the hallway, Noble nudged the big man. “Good job in there. Gonna have the police at our door within the first hour.”

  “Shut up.”

  “That all you got?”

  “Still groggy from whatever Steele gave me.”

  “Valium, probably.”

  “Whatever it was, had some vivid dreams on the way over.”

  “You’ll have to write them down for me. Need something to read on the toilet.”

  “Ass.”

  Noble checked that the hallway was clear, withdrew his pistol—flying private had its privileges—and opened the door to their new temporary home in Bucharest.

  The place looked like it was decorated thirty years ago. The furniture had visible dust on it. The kitchen table might’ve been in an episode of Happy Days. Bear went straight to the olive-green refrigerator and opened it up.

  “Anything in there?”

  “A black apple.”

  “Guess we’re calling for take-out. Get back into that phrasebook you found.”

  Noble pulled back the drapes and raised the blinds on each of the four windows looking across the street. He counted three up from the ground, and two over to the right.

  “That the place?” Bear said from next to him, startling Noble.

  “When’d you get there?”

  “Like a cheetah, bro.”

  “Puma,” Noble said. “You’re like a puma.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Yeah, that’s the place. Can’t see anything with the sunset reflecting off the windows, though.”

  “Really expect to see anything? I mean, is someone gonna come back there after four of our agents were found dead?”

  “Have you thought about that?” Noble turned to the side and leaned against the window. “Why would they go into hiding, only for O’Neil to kill them?”

  “We can go to the morgue and ask.”

  “Don’t think that’s gonna get us far.”

  “Right, so let the people back at Langley do their jobs, and we’ll do ours.”

  “Which is?”

  “Watch that building non-stop and take note of who goes in and out.”

  “Sounds exciting.”

  “I got plenty of sleep on the plane,” Bear said. “I’ll take first shift. Why don’t you go rest?”

  “I’ll grab us some food first.”

  Bear patted his stomach. “Chinese?”

  “Sure, man, whatever you say.”

  Noble grabbed his coat and a scarf and headed back out into the cold, passing the woman by the mailboxes again. He kept his stare from lingering too long. Was she a lookout? Or just someone who had far too many letters to mail? Maybe a pen pal for half the Romanian army?

  The sun had slipped behind the city skyline, sending the temperature plunging further. Noble doubted he’d ever get used to anything below fifty degrees. Not after spending the majority of his life in Florida. The icy sidewalk proved a challenge for the first thirty seconds until he got his legs under him. From there, he managed a brisk walk, passing the occasional person or couple crazy enough to be outside. Of course, to them the weather was nothing new.

 

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