Page 9 of Undercover Savior

“Where are you instead?”

David glanced over at me again and shook his head. “Not there.”

“The place where you’re taking me?” I asked.

“I’m there even less.”

While he didn’t sound sad while talking about it, I couldn’t help but think the life he led was. I was about to ask about his family when I thought of mine. “I need to check in with my parents.” I waited several seconds for him to respond. “Did you hear me?” I finally asked.

“Someone will get word to them that you’re safe.”

My mouth gaped. “What does that mean?” I asked for what had to be the third or fourth time.

“You will not be permitted contact with anyone.”

I was about to ask if that included using my computer, but thought better of it. Surely, once I had it, I’d be able to send a secure message.

“Whatever you’re thinking, forget it. Someone tried to kill you tonight, Sullivan, and it wasn’t because you happened tobe at the wrong place at the wrong time. They knew you were coming.”

“Did you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I did not.”

“Did the people you work for?”

He shot me the look. “One would think a decent investigative reporter would know the answer without needing to ask the question.”

“‘A decent investigative reporter would know the answer,’” I mimicked, facing the passenger window and resting my head against the seat.

How ironic was it that I was close enough to discovering the truth about Eric Weber, and yet now I had to choose between pursuing the rest of the story and surviving? Earlier tonight, I’d had a gun against my head. When I was growing up in Ballater, the village outside Balmoral Castle, I couldn’t say such a thing would’ve ever entered my mind.

“David, where did you grow up?” I asked. Something about my childhood hometown made me wonder about his.

“My family moved quite often.”

“Edinburgh?”

“No. I spent more time in the west of Scotland.”

I was stunned he’d admitted that much. As long as he was talkative…

“Why were you at the charity event tonight?”

“In part because the people I work for received intel you would be.” The muscle at the corner of his right eye twitched.

“How? I mean, how could they know?”

“Think, Sullivan. Many of the questions you’ve asked me, you already know the answer to.”

“Do you work for SIS?” I asked.

He shot me the lookagain.

Since that seemed obvious, if they knew I planned to be there, they hadn’t found out via a guest list. The only way they could’ve was by hacking into my computer, surveilling me, or they’d been the ones to send the alert that Eric Weber would be in attendance. All notions rattled me. Maybe I was in too deep. I was a lone reporter, albeit one with access to the Crown Herald’s data banks and a wide network of sources. SIS would have exponentially more, along with access to intelligence the news agency never would. Oh, and they had snipers available on demand, not something a news agency could claim.

If I gave up now, would Eric Weber and his accomplices ever face judgment? I shook my head. Icouldn’tquit, not in good conscience. It didn’t matter if the people I worked for buried the story. I’d find someone else interested in running it.

I decided to bite the bullet and ask if I’d be allowed to work where we were going. “You said I wouldn’t be permitted to contact anyone.”

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