“We’d like to know what you discussed.” It was the first time Agent Paulus had spoken, and Ava shifted her attention to him. He was a good foot shorter than Samuelson, stocky, with coarse gingery hair and nearly invisible eyebrows.
“Why?”
“Because we asked, Ms. Carter.” Samuelson’s omission of her title didn’t escape her. Neither did his biting tone. She was familiar with the intimidation tactics feds could use to leverage information. She glanced again at Sanders and he gave her a small nod.
She leaned back in her chair, feigning nonchalance. “He offered me a job.” The two agents exchanged a look. Clearly she’d startled them. But even more surprising was the suppressed excitement she sensed her words elicited from them.
“With Global Securities?” Samuelson barely waited for her nod before pressing, “And what was your answer?”
“I told him I wasn’t interested.” Her interest was piqued now, however.
“We’d like you to reconsider your answer to McCabe’s job offer,” Samuelson said. Though couched as a suggestion, it sounded more like a command. “There’s a matter of national security you could assist with by doing so.”
“Why would I do that?” She didn’t understand Chief Sanders’s silence, but she was tiring of the subterfuge. And her diplomacy skills tended to thin when she was tired.
“Patriotism?” offered Paulus. “Duty to your country? Commitment to national freedom?”
Anger coursed through her, a hot rush of feeling. Although she knew she was being manipulated, she was helpless to stem her response. “I’m recently recovered from taking a bullet because of my line of work. Just got back on the job two weeks ago. Tread carefully, gentlemen. You might not want to question my sense of duty.”
“She’s right.” As if Sanders could remain quiet no longer, he came forward in his chair, aimed a steely look at the agents. “Detective Carter is a valued member of our force, and of our incident response unit. Time to fish or cut bait, gentlemen. If you want interagency cooperation, you have to be open about the mission you’re asking Detective Carter’s help on.”
“Of course.” Samuelson smoothed his muted striped tie, his manner stiff. “We were getting to that. Our agency has an interest in Antonio de la Reyes’s new government and of the political climate in San Baltes. McCabe is providing security for de la Reyes, and anyone on his team would have access to certain…intelligence…that would help us with our threat assessment of the newly formed government there. With your heroics today, we thought you’d be in the perfect position to impress McCabe. Petition him for a position on his team.” He gave her a small smile devoid of sincerity. “Obviously you already accomplished that feat. He was impressed enough to offer you a job, which would make your task even more plausible.”
It was amazing, Ava thought cynically, what passed for open communication with these guys. Or maybe they really underestimated her intelligence enough that they thought she’d buy their story unquestioningly. “Why do you need me? Why not approach McCabe directly for the information?” She read her answer from the pained expressions on the agents’ faces.
“Mr. McCabe was disinterested in cooperating.”
Ava’s lips quirked. She could imagine McCabe’s response had been somewhat less polite than Samuelson indicated. Her estimation of the security consultant kicked up a notch.
“Well, I’m confused.” She gave the agents an easy shrug. “The situation you’re outlining sounds like a matter for the CIA, not DHS. Your involvement means there’s a terrorism component to your concern. I must have missed it when you mentioned that part.”
“This is extremely sensitive.” Agent Paulus cast a look at the other agent as he spoke. “Whatever your response, I hope we can count on your discretion.” He waited expectantly, but when Ava said nothing, he went on. “Alberto Martinez, the former leader of San Baltes, was a corrupt dictator. We have reason to believe money from his government was supporting terrorist attacks throughout South America. Naturally we’re eager for the opportunity to explore the degree to which that network still exists. Your placement on McCabe’s team gives us such an opportunity.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was insincere. “As I told Mr. McCabe, I have a job here. A teenage son to care for. I’m not free to take the job even if I wanted to.”
“Captain Sanders assures us that your job would be waiting for you during your absence, as would your spot on SWAT. And your ex-husband could care for your son while you’re gone, couldn’t he?”
Everything in Ava stilled. Her glance flicked to the chief and back to Samuelson. It was impossible to be sure whether they’d gotten the personal details of her life from Sanders or from their own digging, but she’d bet on the latter. DHS wasn’t known for their regard for individuals’ privacy.
The only question remaining was how deep they’d dug.
“The answer’s still no.” Inwardly seething, Ava made sure her emotions didn’t show in her expression. A sense of duty had formed her desire to enter the police force, but this…they were asking her to deceive McCabe, if in fact she could convince him to put her on de la Reyes’s detail. To act as a spy while she was in San Baltes.
She’d worked plenty of undercover cases, but there was nothing compelling about the agents’ request. They could cite national security all they wanted, but they’d failed to convince her of the urgency of this particular task. And even she was surprised at the level of distaste she felt for it.
“So that’s it, gentlemen.” Sanders rose, indicating the meeting was at an end. Ava couldn’t tell if he approved of her response or not. “I said I’d release Detective Carter if she agreed, but you have her answer. I’m afraid I have another meeting in a few minutes.”
They all rose, and the tall agent reached into his pocket to withdraw a card. He handed it to her. “In case you reconsider.”
When Ava went to take it, the man didn’t release the card immediately. Her gaze met his.
“Think it over, Ms. Carter.” His voice was pitched low enough to reach only her ears. “I happen to believe a single act of patriotism can erase years of disloyalty. Years that might prove embarrassing should they be made public.”
The freshly healed scar on her shoulder throbbed at his thinly veiled warning. He finally released the card and she slipped it into her suit pocket. Turning without a word, she headed for the door, wondering frantically just how thorough their investigation of her had been.
Because she didn’t think she was imagining the threat in Samuelson’s parting words.
Once back in her car, Ava checked her cell phone and found a text message from Alex assuring her he’d find another ride home. She slipped the key in the ignition, but then sat still for a few moments, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel.
It was ridiculous to let Samuelson rattle her. She was accustomed to the strong-arm tactics feds used to get what they wanted, but surely his was an empty threat. Her occupation was a daily testament to her patriotism. She didn’t have to fly to another country to prove it. Just as she didn’t have to constantly strive to negate her radical upbringing. How many times had her ex-husband reminded her of that?
Apparently, not often enough.
Perhaps she’d misinterpreted his words. Ava had the thought, tried to believe it. The assignment the man had described didn’t seem all that vital to national security. So he’d left something out, hardly surprising when dealing with feds.
Which made it impossible to decide