Page 72 of Hidden

It was a nice speech, but Peter wasn’t buying it anymore. Though he didn’t have solid proof yet, the more he studied the files Carrie had been sent, the more he believed Corbit Upwood was dirty. Guilty of what? He couldn’t say yet, but he was determined to find out. For now, though, it was still his job to keep the man alive.

“Frankly, sir, you don’t have a choice in the matter. The President of the United States has tasked me to keep you alive, and that’s what I intend to do.” Turning his back, he effectively dismissed Director Upwood as he scanned the room for the agent in charge of the night shift.

“Ellerman, as soon as we’re cleared to leave, we’ll be moving the director to his wife and son’s safe house and tomorrow we’ll set them all up in a new location. Coordinate with their detail.”

“Yes, sir,” the agent said.

Behind him, he could practically feel Director Upwood fuming, and Peter knew he was counting down the minutes until he was on the phone with his boss or the president.

They were kept in the Cabaret for another fifteen minutes, before an FBI agent said it was safe to leave out the back. Peter sent his men to arrange transport. Ellerman came back less than a minute later.

“New vehicles are five minutes away, but we’ve got a problem. The press moved closer and a bunch of them are camped out at all our safe exits. It’s going to take some time to move them unless you just want to push past them.”

Peter tried not to let his disdain for the press show. It didn’t seem fair, considering where things were going with Carrie. He was going to have to keep those feelings under wraps for her sake.

“Let’s just push past them. Any of them get out of line, do what you have to. We’re not making arrests, but make it clear we aren’t open to questions, and a written statement will come out tomorrow.”

Ellerman nodded and went to watch for the new cars to arrive.

When Peter and another agent brought the director outside, he groaned. Every news agency in the country had taken up camp just outside the perimeter. He quickly scanned the exits, looking for the least crowded one.

“Let’s take that route,” Peter said to the driver as he pointed toward the UNN van.

“You got it boss.” The driver gave him a thumbs up.

“I’m going to walk beside the vehicles and push the press back along with the uniformed officers. Once we get past them, I’ll get in the follow car and they can drop me at my SUV.”

With the plan in place, Peter began the slow walk alongside the cars. The crowd of reporters was too thick to drive very fast. As they approached the UNN van just outside the barricade, a microphone was shoved in his face.

“Gina Whitman with UNN, what can you tell…” Her voice trailed off and Peter felt his blood run cold.

“Hello, Peter.” Gina waved off her camera man.

“What are you doing here Gigi?” Peter clenched his jaw. It hadn’t occurred to him that Gina would be out here or he would have been in the car and let someone else do crowd control.

“Didn’t you hear? UNN gave me my own show.”

“I never thought much of them as a news network, anyway.” The insult came out of Peter’s mouth before he could stop it. With closed eyes, he prayed her cameraman had stopped recording.

“Are you on the protection detail assigned to the CIA director?”

“No comment. Back up so the cars can get through, please.” Peter placed his hand on her arm. She jerked away from him but backed away, motioning for her cameraman to follow.Smart girl, thought Peter.

As he walked past her, he heard her talk into her microphone again about being stonewalled by the Secret Service and he fought the urge to make impolite hand gestures over his shoulder. Carrie worked for the same network. Was she working on Gina’s show? Had she seen that entire exchange?

By the time he got the director settled at the safe house, it was late enough that he would only get a couple of hours of sleep, and Peter was angry. He wondered if Carrie was still at work or had gone back to his apartment. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, given his current mood.

As he climbed into his SUV, a piece of paper caught his attention. It was flapping in the night air, tucked under a windshield wiper. Climbing back out, he retrieved what turned out to be an envelope and turned it over in his hands. Pulling out the single sheet of paper, he frowned as he read.

My cover is about to be blown if. The last photo I sent you is of a missing woman, but I’m pretty sure she’s already dead. Some of the others are still alive, though. Keep looking. Let Carrie Davenport blow the lid off this story. It’s important. Lives are at stake.

RIP

Who the fuck was this guy? It was definitely someone working for the CIA or the FBI, but Peter was having trouble coming up with anyone. As far as he knew, Boomer was still in the middle east, and Gage and Reggie were already retired. Sam Carter came to mind, but he knew Sam rarely worked on U.S. soil.

Driving home, he considered whether he should tell Carrie about the note, but he knew he shouldn’t keep any of it from her. Not when they were becoming close. His mind wandered to the last time he got close to a reporter, and he scowled. It had cost him his sister. His parents—especially his mother—still hadn’t forgiven his ex or the journalism profession.

At his apartment door, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and put Gigi out of his mind. She wasn’t worth his time.

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