Page 85 of Ricochet

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The polished wood of the war room table had seen years of missions and operations. Some were battles that no one knew existed, while others had national significance and made their ways into textbooks.

Jared paced along the wall, listening to his cell phone. “That’s all I need to hear.” He cut off the call then took his place at the head of the war room table like a king.His demeanor remained somewhere between serious and impassive with the occasional crack of his knuckles. Bacon and Thelma, Boss Man’s bulldog, lounged close, and Colin wondered how these meetings took place.

“Glad to have you here, Colin.” Jared nodded curtly.

“Same. Thanks.”

“Pretty basic job came in came in from an old army buddy of mine, Richard Delano, who acts as the go-between for usand one of our trafficking intel sources.”

Parker opened a folder and passed papers to Jared, Brock, and Colin. Gloria Astor’s name was printed across the top of the sheet, followed by her picture and basic information, but Colin didn’t have to read to know who she was.

Gloria Astor was an international figure for human rights. Beyond that, she was absurdly wealthy and a popular person to haveon guest lists at diplomatic events and black-tie fundraisers. Colin’s diplomat parents knew her well from their days overseas, and Colin could recall more than a few times Gloria Astor had been having tea with his mother when he’d arrived home from school on their various placements in Europe.

But he opted to keep that to himself. Between the choice to shut up and listen or to name drop aboutwho his family knew, it seemed the prudent course of action to keep his trap glued shut.

“Her security has a credible but generic threat.”

“What kind?” Brock asked.

“A breach in personal information,” Parker explained.

“Her security requested a set of back-up eyes at her bigger events.”

Brock groaned. “Do we think it’s the best use of resources for Delta to babysit some billionaire who’spissed that the paparazzi found her in Vail.”

“Not that nonspecific,” Jared followed up. “Astor has had interactions with the unsub.”

Colin raised his eyebrow at the image of a hoity-toity woman facing off with a threat. “Are they concerned about a stalker?”

Jared shook his head. “More like a person unhappy with her angle on a human rights campaigns.”

“Sounds like something the FBI shouldtake on. Why us?” Brock asked.

“Parker,” Jared said.

He reached for a small remote next to the com system at the center of the table, and the wall illuminated. Colin remembered her kind eyes, though it had been nearly two decades since he’d last seen her or paid attention. Surely, her face had been in a newspaper or website he’d seen. But that was the same woman he remembered. At the time, he’dhad no idea her status or business. The younger him barely knew her name, but her face would always be familiar and comfortable, with kind eyes, and a style he could only describe as New York City, old money wealthy with skin that likely had never been exposed without makeup.

“That necklace must’ve cost more than my first year’s salary from the Army,” Jared muttered.

“You must’ve made more thanme.” Brock laughed.

“Was there any question?” Jared shot back, cracking a smile.

“Most of her wealth comes from the shipping conglomerates her family has owned and passed down for generations,” Parker added. “But they’re diversified soundly. Port management. Freight distribution. Rails. The Astors have found tax shelters and benefits in their philanthropic endeavors, which is how we have anintel connection.”

Colin pursed his lips. That was a connection he couldn’t make. “Someone’s going to connect the dots for me. How’s the uber-rich lady coming across intel?”

“Her people, her network. But Delano said she sees a great deal firsthand. She’s invested everything she can to stop human trafficking.” Parker rested his elbows on the table. “I was able to pull mentions from local papersall over the world where she stopped into a relief camp to hand deliver aid or unexpectedly showed up in local disaster not covered by the international press with containers of food and water.”

“Damn,” Brock whistled. “She’s a saint.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Parker added. “Her security team is flawless but small. They have a long history of working with the FBI, who will likely takeon any investigation.”

“Delta’s been contracted to assist with security at her major functions.” Jared turned the page, prompting Brock and Colin to do the same.

The event scheduled started this evening.Damn it. A fundraiser in Connecticut.There were a lot of places he could’ve been sent farther away from Baltimore, but there were also days that weren’t tonight.

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