Page 30 of Power Term

“The text history wiped?”

“That and his call logs and search history, but I doubt this was his only phone. There’s a second charger with no phone attached. This one was probably his personal one based on the pictures and the other government issued. That one seems to have been taken from the scene.” I set the phone back where I found it, plug it back in, and proceed to strip off the gloves. “There’s no sign of a struggle here or anywhere around the room. Based on the brain splatter along the wall behind him, this is where he was killed. So what? He was restrained while whoever put a gun barrel between his eyes and pulled the trigger?” I shake my head and move away from the desk to stare out the windows overlooking the back gardens. “Something doesn’t add up here, Tank. He’s dirty.”

“No doubt about that, but that’s not why we’re here. Give me my phone so I can call the FBI. They’ll do their digging and find out what this sleaze was up to. I don’t think the evidence in this room will help us find Randi.”

My heavy shoulders slump in defeat, knowing he’s right.

“Time’s running out,” I say through grinding teeth. “She’s been gone for hours now. What if…? I have to find her.” Turning from the window, I allow the wide array of emotions to bleed through my eyes. “I have to find her.”

“We will—”

I jump with a giggled curse at the tickling sensations against my balls.

“Um, you seem to be getting a call,” I say with a little bit of remorse. Jamming a hand down the front of my pants, I tug it free. I cringe and wipe the screen off on my pants before extending it between us. “Sorry, it was a little sweaty.”

“You’re not sorry, you ass,” he snaps. “Thank fuck I still have gloves on.” Swiping a thumb across the screen, he answers the call and switches it to speakerphone. “What?”

“I have something.” I snap my attention to the illuminated screen. My pulse races with hope at Smith’s words. “Benson asked me months ago, right after the Cairo incident, if I’d help find the leak. Since then I’ve watched, listened, and monitored every agent on the alpha and beta teams. There were ten possible agents on my list of suspects.”

“Why didn’t you bring this evidence and list to me?” Tank questions, a hint of annoyance in his grumbled tone.

“It was all circumstantial and a damn Hail Mary. I couldn’t tell you I suspected someone of treason because they littered one day at the park while walking their dog.”

“Seriously? Litter?” I question, breaking into his speech.

“It’s a lack of respect and empathy for what their actions will do on the environment.”

“It’s a stretch,” I muse.

“Exactly why I didn’t bring this list to you months ago. But now we’re here and need to find the fucker who leaked information regarding the Cairo trip. Something tells me the person behind that attack and the president being kidnapped are one and the same.”

“Agreed,” Tank and I say in unison.

“Give us the ten names and we can—” I start, but Smith continues, cutting me off.

“I called the director—”

“Your mother,” Tank clarifies.

Cold silence pours from the phone. I smack Tank’s shoulder and flip him the bird. Idiot. He needs to keep his mouth shut until we get that fucking list of names. If the director was telling the truth about Smith once being in Homeland, I trust his gut, which means one of the men on his list is our guy. The one we have to locate to find Randi.

And when we do, the fucker dies.

“We thought you were the one who betrayed us,” I say to clarify why the director let their relationship slip. “It’s why we went there initially, since Tank couldn’t reach you.”

“Me?” he says, wonder in his voice. “You think I’d betray the team, the president, my country?”

“Someone did, and your disappearing acts haven’t helped you appear innocent in all this.”

“Noted.” Smith clears his throat. “I spoke to the director and asked for backgrounds on the ten I suspected. Five are on the alpha team and have reported since the incident this morning. I’m willing to bet the person who took the president won’t leave her alone just to make appearances at work.”

“Those five are out, then,” Tank says.

“Agreed. Which leaves us five others, all on the beta team.”

I want to strangle the phone. To slip through the damn device so I can wrap my hands around Smith’s neck and demand he spit it out. Fuck this explaining, I need a name.Thename. The name of the man I have every intention of killing with my bare hands. And enjoying it. “Two were pronounced dead this morning. One is on vacation with his family. Two are alive and have checked in but haven’t been seen.”

“Two,” I say on an easy breath. “We can cover two suspects. One of them—”

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