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“I wanna know how you hacked me,” Zane said grumpily.
“It was actually easier than I thought it would be,” Lucas responded then looked over at River. “Until she came along, anyway.”
“Because I set a trap and when you came sniffing around, it alerted us,” River said.
Lucas nodded. “Good move. Anyway, Carlisle told me your team was a threat to national security. That you were a group of assassins carrying out terrorist missions and needed to be stopped.”
“That’s a load of bullshit,” Ryland growled. “The real terrorist is The Agency.”
“He never mentioned anything about The Agency. I never heard that term until Inda asked me about them. I swear.”
“And we’re just supposed to believe you?” Zane asked, voice full of doubt.
“If this Agency is the real group of bad guys, I can help you bring them down. I’m done being lied to and used by Carlisle. If you’re the good guys like Inda claims, I’ll do whatever I can to tip the scales in your favor.”
For a long moment no one said anything. Then Braxton spoke up. “How about playing double agent?”
Lucas considered the question then slowly nodded. “If that’s what it takes, then yeah, count me in.”
Chapter Eleven
Inda’s suspicious nature gnawed at her. Lucas said he wanted to help them, even if it meant putting himself in a dangerous position and potentially in the line of fire. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but only time would tell. Meanwhile, she sat back and allowed her team and their significant others to put him through an interrogation of epic proportion. Poor guy. She almost felt bad a couple of times. Almost.
As the questions continued, Inda’s confidence in him increased, as did her respect.
Lucas Sheridan could speak up for himself, and he was doing a damn fine job of holding his own when it came to her team. They could be a ruthless bunch, especially when it involved an opponent who’d outmaneuvered them on more than one occasion. Zane, especially, was pissed and had a chip on his shoulder. He hated being one-upped.
In a weird sort of way, she was proud of Lucas. Now that he was on their side, anyway. He was willing to go out on a limb because of her.
But why? He didn’t owe her anything.
“Do you know anything about Novichok?” Braxton asked, taking copious notes throughout their lengthy discussion in his neat, slanted handwriting. His attention to detail was what madehim such a great leader. Through everything, Inda had never seen him lose his cool. The others yes, but Braxton never. Not once. Sometimes she wondered what it would take to get under his skin. Clearly more than Lucas Sheridan.
“Yes,” Lucas answered, snagging everyone’s complete attention. “Well, I know it’s a nerve agent developed for chemical warfare by the Russians.”
“Did Carlisle ever mention Dr. Boris Orlov?” Zane asked.
“Orlov was on the list of victims he claimed your team killed.”
“That fucker,” Saint growled, slamming a fist into his opposite hand. “I say we take him out next.”
“He’s got enough money to be bankrolling The Agency,” Inda said. “If we cut them off at their financial source, it’ll do serious damage.”
“Yeah, but he’s not alone anymore in the venture. Don’t forget, Carlisle, alias Mr. Smith, was recruiting other rich men like Tillman and Salinger,” Gray stated.
“Tillman was an idiot,” Ryland said. “Theonlyreason they brought him onboard was for the money.”
Beside her, Lucas sat up straighter. “Go back. If you guys didn’t kill Orlov, that means The Agency did, right?”
Zane shook his head. “River and I overheard a conversation between Selma Santiago and Orlov. She wanted him to give her the formula, but he wasn’t exactly cooperating. He would’ve caved, though. The guy had no backbone. Selma had to know that, so it doesn’t make sense that they’d take him out. At least not until they got what they wanted.”
“Unless…” Lucas’ voice trailed off.
“Unless what?” Inda asked, studying him closely.
“Unless they found someone else who knew the formula. Someone willing to cooperate.” Lucas leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “One of the jobs Carlisle had me do was a background report on a former Russian chemist named Dr. Ivan Zaitsev.”
Several low curses filled the air as the pieces began to click.
