Rafe Sinclair's Revenge. Gayle Wilson
say it hadn’t been, but the more she thought about it, the less willing she was to accept that assessment.
A dozen things could have gone wrong this morning. There was no way anyone could guarantee that the explosion and the resultant fire would play out as it had. Not even the agency’s vaunted specialists.
Or if Rafe was correct in his suspicions, maybe those had been Griff’s specialists—the men she had worked with during her years on the EST. They would certainly be capable of rigging something that would work with the kind of precision demonstrated in this morning’s explosion. The question was whether they would be willing to put a former colleague at risk.
If Griff asked them to, she acknowledged. Especially if he made the reason compelling enough.
Maybe he had reminded them of the reality of the situation. If they didn’t do it, the agency would. And the CIA wouldn’t be nearly so careful as would the members of the team. If Griff had presented them with those options, they would undoubtedly have agreed to set the explosives.
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