Page 59 of Broken Trust
Now his response glowed on the screen, imprinting three little sentences on her brain.
Will meet. Tomorrow. 2100 hours.
Curling forward around the knot in her stomach, she typed a response.
Location to follow.
She sucked in a constricted breath and picked up her phone to text Dante. Not even three seconds passed before footsteps thundered through the base. In seconds, Dante, Sophie and Con barreled into the room.
Dante rushed to her side, planting a hand on the desk and thrusting his face close to the monitor. He skimmed the message between her and Kent and then jerked upright, back stiff.
“Kent agreed to meet.”
Sophie’s eyes widened a fraction, and she drifted closer to Con. He reached out and touched her elbow in the briefest show of comfort.
Elin’s stomach fluttered as she watched. After they took the Canadian into custody, Liam had grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the war room.
Liam used his touch, his presence, to calm her, just like Con did for Sophie.
He was trying to show her he still cared about her, through touches and looks and kisses and oh so much more.
She’d been so blind. Although she allowed him into her bed those times, she kept him at arm’s length. Now she saw everything through a clear lens, not the smeared view she had after finding out he hadn’t died, merely left her to suffer alone.
Through the window, she could see the sun beginning its descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Beautiful and peaceful…and completely at odds with the knot of anxiety mingling with guilt in her stomach.
“Walk us through it again.” Con folded his arms with deceptively casual air. But his eyes were sharp and assessing. “From the beginning.”
Elin pulled up the file on her laptop. “The wire transfer Dante found led me to a shell company. From there, I traced it back to a Department of Defense contractor account—one with Pentagon clearance. The account holder is Adrian Douglas Kent, a mid-level analyst in the Defense Intelligence Agency.”
“Mid-level,” Sophie repeated. “So not exactly a mastermind.”
“No. Which makes sense.” Dante pulled up his own screen, displaying a web of connections. “He’s the middleman, which is exactly what Cipher looks for. Guys who take orders from aboveand execute them. He doesn’t make the big decisions—he just makes sure the operation flows smoothly.”
Elin’s voice came out tight. “He knows where every device is and who’s handling them.”
Con nodded slowly. “And you reached out to him, as I authorized?”
“Yesterday. I sent an encrypted message through a back channel I’d been monitoring.” She pulled up the log. “I included evidence of his financial transactions and communication patterns. Then I gave him an ultimatum—meet with us and hand over everything he knows, or I send it all to the people who can make his life very unpleasant.”
Sophie twined her fingers in front of her. “I’m worried about how deeply you’re involved now, Elin.”
Elin met her gaze. “I painted a target on all depicting the moment I started digging.”
“At least this way, we control the engagement,” Dante added.
“Do we?” Strain lined the corners of Sophie’s beautiful, expressive eyes. “Because from where I’m sitting, this feels too neat, too clean. Kent responded in less than twenty-four hours and agreed to meet. Doesn’t it concern you that he didn’t try to negotiate or deny anything?”
“He knows he’s cornered.” Again, Con touched the back of her hand—just a stroke of his fingertips, but Elin saw Sophie relax at once, her clenched fingers loosening and her shoulders easing.
“Maybe.” Sophie didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe he’s setting a trap.”
The words hung in the air. Elin had been thinking the same thing since the response came through. Itwastoo easy. Too clean. A man like Kent, embedded in the intelligence community, didn’t just roll over.
“It could be a trap.” She bit down on her lip, worrying it with her teeth for a moment. “But what’s our alternative? Wait and hope he doesn’t warn his handlers? Hope the bombs don’t go live??”
“Cipher and Kent both know we’re hunting them now.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened. “How long do we have?”
