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“I was just wondering if it was safe to enter. If there were explosives in the SUV, they could have done something to my house, too—I’ve been gone all day.”
“Want us to check for you?” Agent Holmes asked.
He was just a little too eager, and Cody and Callahan exchanged glances. “That’s okay, I’ve got these guys babysitting me,” Callahan said, indicating Cody, Keira and McKinnon. “I’ll let them check it out.” He held out his hand. “So, if that’s all, I’ll say thanks and wait to hear from you regarding when I can get my SUV back.”
Cody hid a grin at the masterful way Callahan had dismissed the FBI. Jurisdictionally the FBI was on thin ice as it was, since no connection had as yet been established between the explosives found in Callahan’s SUV and the ones that had killed the two federal prosecutors. Callahan was the local sheriff and hadn’t requested FBI assistance, and since technically they were trespassing on his property, Agent Holmes didn’t have much choice but to shake the hand offered, gather up his team and their equipment, and depart with as much good grace as he could muster.
Cody waited until the FBI vehicles were out of sight before he started chuckling. “Remind me never to get on your bad side,” he told Callahan.
Callahan didn’t smile. “It went against the grain not to cooperate with him, but I can’t trust the FBI the way I used to.” His gaze moved from Cody to Keira. “Not since you uncovered what you did on that New York SAC.” He shook his head, a grim look settling on his face. “It’s a hell of a situation when I can’t trust the FBI.”
“Sorry,” Cody said, meaning it. “Just a little interagency rivalry. They’ve always resented the agency, which is why they only grudgingly share information with us. And I guess we’re not much better. But when we don’t share, we usually have a damn good reason.”
“Like the junior senator from New York?” Callahan asked dryly.
“Yeah. Like that.”
Keira and McKinnon had been listening quietly, but now McKinnon spoke. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m tired and hungry. What say we go in and you continue that conversation some other time?”
* * *
Dinner was long since over, and the four of them sat in the living room, discussing their plans for the next day. Keira hadn’t said much, just listened to the three men with part of her brain while the other part was trying to puzzle out the meaning of Steve Tressler’s last words to Callahan. Veni, vidi, vici. Centaur. Or center. Or...or what? If Callahan couldn’t figure it out, what makes you think you can?
Two weeks ago she’d been convinced there was a link between the phrase veni, vidi, vici and the Praetor Corporation. Now she wasn’t so sure. Why didn’t you research that more when you had the chance? she berated herself. She had researched the phrase, but she couldn’t find a link to the Praetor Corporation. The only thing she had been able to come up with was an online video game, so she’d put it aside to consider later. Then, when she’d started following the trail of David Pennington and his wife and son, she’d never gone back to it.
Veni, vidi, vici—I came, I saw, I conquered. It was a motto of some kind. Like Semper Fidelis—Always Faithful—was to the Marine Corps. But nothing she’d read about the Praetor Corporation, or NOANC for that matter, said anything about a motto for either organization.
Maybe it was a holdover from the old militia. David Pennington had seemed to have a thing for Roman history. Hadn’t Cody said something about that? She cast her mind back. It was there, on the tip of her tongue. She closed her eyes for a minute to block out her surroundings, and then it came back to her. My code name in the militia was Centurion. Pennington picked the name. He thought it was clever. Maybe it was.
Centurion. A professional officer in the Roman army. Not just anyone could be a centurion, she remembered. She’d read somewhere that centurions had to meet strict guidelines, including having already served a few years in the military. Was that how Pennington had seen his militia, a reincarnation of the Roman army? Or was it just a coincidence?
