Page 9 of Stealthy Seduction
Steele folded his arms. “Looks like some car bombings. Explosives discovered on a dock. Nothing like what we’ve seen from the terrorist in the past.”
Cipher thrived on making a spectacle. His signature was chaos that splintered through governments and civilians alike—planes grounded, cities burning, operatives buried under twisted wreckage. Every mission they’d run had shown the terrorist’s hunger to dominate and reminded them that no one was beyond his reach.
His current silence didn’t give any of them relief. A storm was gathering.
Mason shook his head. “No mass killings.”
Chase blew out a breath. “No Blackout teams going down in a chopper crash.”
Everyone fell silent as they remembered Echo team. Chase was the last man standing from Echo, which placed a target on his back.
After a long beat, Dante continued, “I’ve got alerts set up across multiple channels. I’ve done a deep dive on financial systems too—I’m looking for large amounts money being moved, or multiple small sums. I have a pulse on all communications between persons of interest who we suspect had dealings with Cipher in the past, as well as alerts for dark web chatter.” Dante looked up at Con, who picked up where he left off.
“Sophie’s still working through the cryptograms we recovered from the last op. She’s uncovering new pieces daily, but nothing definitive that points to his next move.”
Steele nodded, filing away each kernel of information. Cipher was like smoke—always there, always dangerous, but impossible to pin down.
But not for long.
“However,” Dante continued, his tone sharpening, “I did confirm something significant about Daniel Sheen.”
Their attention zeroed in at the mention of Cipher’s real name. The man had lost his mother in a bombing in Syria. But the grieving son wasn’t only targeting the people who failed his mother. He was picking off everyone who, in his mind, prevented people from saving her—SEAL teams and anybody involved in a hostage situation going on at the same time, as well as those even remotely tied to her death.
And Daniel Sheen—Cipher—wouldn’t stop until the entire chain of command had bled dry.
“Sheen worked for the CIA for six months before faking his death. He escaped notice by using a back door he built into the CIA’s system, probably before he quit. He was able to alter records, create a false death certificate, the whole nine yards.”
Steele’s pen stopped mid-flip. He leaned forward, shrewd eyes fixed on the screen. “And the back door?”
“I closed it,” Dante confirmed with a nod. “The back door’s been sealed, and I’ve added an alarm system that’ll alert me if anyone tries to access it again. No new breach attempts detected since I shut it down.”
A collective exhale went around the table. One less vulnerability was always good news, but they knew better than to relax. Cipher was like a virus—close one entry point, and he’d find another.
The briefing shifted. They discussed world events and unusual patterns, anything that might indicate Cipher could be behind it.
Steele tapped his pen on the table. “Patterns are there if you look for them. He might be making small moves on different continents. Keeping busy while staying off our radar.”
His mind circled back to Izzy.
She was one of the hostages held during the time Cipher’s mother was killed.
“He’s not done. Not even close.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with experience. The fact that things had been quiet lately didn’t mean safe. It meant he was planning.
Con tipped his head toward Dante. “Keep us posted on everything you dig up.”
“Copy.”
As Con wrapped up the meeting, Steele felt the familiar gnaw of frustration in his gut. They had intelligence, they had suspicions, they had pieces of a puzzle—but nothing actionable. Nothing that would let them go on the offensive instead of constantly reacting to situations.
The team began to disperse, chairs scraping against the expensive marble floors that ran throughout the mansion. Even though Steele’s back faced an open door, he remained seated for a moment longer, his mind already turning over contingency plans. His protective instincts were running hot, honed by everything they’d just discussed and everything he couldn’t say.
Izzy’s face flashed through his mind, trusting and vulnerable as she’d stared at him in the darkness.
He pushed back his chair. “Con, can I talk to you?”
“Sure.”
