Disruptive Force. Elle James
nodded, hating that she’d lied, but needing to get away. “Thank you.” She climbed in and hunkered low on the backseat while Ronnie drove away from the restaurant and out onto the busy street in front.
CJ waited until they were half a block away before she looked up over the back of the seat in time to see the college student run out of the restaurant and look both directions.
When he turned and walked toward the library, CJ let out a sigh.
“Was that the guy?” Ronnie asked.
CJ nodded. “He just won’t let go.” Which was true. Trinity assassins were trained to keep after their target until the target had been eliminated. He’d find her again. And when he did, he wouldn’t let her slip away a second time.
CJ had Ronnie drop her off at a metro station two miles from the library. She slipped onto the train headed for a neighborhood she’d been through several times. The one where Cole McCastlain lived. She wasn’t ready to admit she needed help, but she’d found a furnished town house for rent near his. If it was still available, she’d crash there and regroup. She needed time to think about her next move. Maybe it was time to openly join forces with Declan’s Defenders. They were all after the same thing. To bring an end to Trinity. To do so, they had to bring down the Director.
COLE SAT AT his desk in the town house he’d rented, his body tense, his gaze glued to the computer. He’d seen the messages come across the website he’d been following. He’d known Trinity was closing in on CJ. And he’d been unable to do anything but warn her. Frustration was too weak a description of what he was feeling. Cole needed action.
But CJ had refused to let him or anyone else from Declan’s Defenders overtly assist her in their mutual objective to bring down Trinity. She’d insisted she was better off alone.
He’d been lucky today. The messages had come in just in time for him to warn CJ to get out of the Arlington library. Hell, he’d been able to locate her based on the IP address of the computer she’d logged in on. She’d been perusing the internet on sites known for helping people find assassins for hire. What scared him was that if he was able to find her, others could easily do the same.
He’d invested in a burner phone. Next time she texted, he’d give her that number and insist she use it with a new burner number. Trinity had to know Declan’s Defenders were out to destroy the organization that had most likely put out a hit on John Halverson. Declan’s Defenders would not exist but for the trust and generosity of Halverson’s widow, Charlotte—Charlie.
John Halverson had been on a mission to stop Trinity’s illicit activities. He’d scratched the surface and had probably gotten too close to finding their leader, thus making them desperate enough to eliminate the threat.
As much as Charlie had done for Declan and his band of former Marine Force Reconnaissance men, they wanted to return the favor. Their mission was to find the leader of Trinity, the Director. The theory was to chop off the head of the snake and the rest of the organization would die.
According to Halverson’s records, he’d been searching for the same thing. It had taken him years to get as far as he had, and yet, he’d not found the Director or, at least, not been able to identify him before he was murdered.
Cole had been working with Jonah Spradlin, Charlie’s computer guy. They’d been hacking into the computer system at the White House to deep dive existing background checks on people who worked there ever since CJ had given them the heads-up on a planned assault on the NSC meeting at the White House. The problem, of course, was that there were over four hundred people who worked in the White House. Narrowing them down to the few who might present a threat had been a challenge. Four had evaded their background check prior to the hostage taking at the NSC meeting. Four Trinity assassins had been embedded in the White House staff.
Those four were no longer a threat. But how many more were slipping past them? The background checks didn’t tell them much. They had to dive deeper into their private records, bank accounts, emails and phone records. The task was monumental given the number of White House staff.
The cell phone beside him buzzed with a text message. He glanced down at the screen. Unknown Caller.
His pulse beat faster as he unlocked the screen and stared down at the message.
Thank you.
Are you okay?
Yes.
Need a place to stay?
No.
If you do, I have room. So does Charlie.
Thanks.
Let me help more.
You are. Dig into Carpenter.
Will do. Be careful out there. I’m here whenever you need me.
Good to know.
Got a burner phone. Need to stop using this number in case it’s being monitored. Call me for the number.
Cole waited, hoping she’d call. For several minutes, he didn’t hear anything, text or voice. Then his personal cell phone chirped.
Unknown Caller.
“It’s me,” he answered.
“Number?” a female voice said.
He gave her the number and waited for more.
The call ended.
Disappointment piled onto frustration made Cole clench his fist. How could he do the job of protecting CJ if she wouldn’t let him get close?
His burner phone vibrated. His pulse leaped and he lifted it to his ear. “It’s me.”
“It’s me,” she echoed.
Cole smiled. CJ’s husky voice flowed over him like warm chocolate, oozing into every one of his pores.
“Better,” he said. “Now, tell me...did you find a place to stay?”
“For now.”
“Did you have any trouble getting away from the Trinity guy after you?”
“No.”
She wasn’t very forthcoming with information. Cole sighed. “What are my chances of actually seeing you so that I can protect you?”
She laughed, the sound like music in his ears. She almost sounded like a different person. “Slim to none. I don’t need protection.”
“Would you have made it out of the library without my help?”
“Yes.”
“Did my assistance help you make it out without an altercation?”
She hesitated. “Yes. Thank you for the heads-up.”
“It can’t be easy searching the web on public computers. Charlie has a room full of computers in a secure location.”
“Thanks, but I’ll manage.”
He felt her pulling away. “CJ?”
She didn’t answer, but the line didn’t go dead.
Cole continued. “I really want to help you.”
“Find the Director.”
“We’re working on it,” he said, wanting to reach through the airwaves and grab her hand.
“I’ll be in touch.”
And the call ended.
Cole sighed. At least he’d heard from her and gotten her onto a more secure line. He wanted her to be more tangible, to see her, touch her and know she was close so that he could protect her. At the same time, the woman was still alive after living a year outside of Trinity. She knew what