And he’d taken advantage of her temporary lull.

Gina was right, after all. She had been compromised.

Riley had been using her this whole time. He’d been waiting, biding his time, knowing exactly what Amanda was working on. That was why he’d always inquired after her. Not every day, just sprinkled into conversation here and there.

Where’s Amanda these days? What is she up to?

I’d love to meet her sometime. Does she ever come back to the States?

She must be pretty important if you can’t touch base with her. Where did you say she worked again?

Innocuous chatter. Getting-to-know-you conversations. Fucking pillow talk.

She’d walked into the oldest trick in the book. Seduction.

Robin stared out into the dark water, listened to its hypnotic lapping, the maddeningly regular splashes against the hull of the boat as the tide forced its way into the marshes. He who controls the tides... She had no choice. Riley had killed her sister. She had to take him down. There was no decision to be made here. It was Riley and his terrorists or her.

“Atlantic, where would he be? Where did he go? Do you have eyes on him?”

“He’s shielding himself from us. Or they’re doing it for him. Our satellites over D.C. have been deactivated. That was my first clue Riley had turncoated. We’re awaiting help from the NSA. But until we’re back online, our usual tools are useless.”

“Jesus. And he knows exactly how to make a satellite go dark. Please tell me you have a fix on his tracker.”

“It’s gone. He cut it out of his arm, or he’s lying dead at the bottom of the Potomac, right under your feet.”

“He’s not here. I saw him leave. He must have tossed the tracker as he left.”

Right after he kissed me goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Robin. You’re going to have to use old-fashioned methods to find him. Because he’s managed to blind us. We’ve flagged his passports, all the identities we know of, but you know he has friends. He could be in the air right now, and we’d never know it.”

“Where would he go? Back to Africa? No, sir. He’s here. If they’re planning an attack, he’s going to be in the midst of things. That’s his way.”

“Lola has the names of the other members involved in the day’s events. Kruger is dead. Maureen Heedles has been neutralized, is being taken to the hospital with a gunshot wound. A Spaniard, Senza, was killed this morning trying to eliminate James Denon.”

“I’ve crossed paths with him before. Not sorry he’s gone.”

“And the man you found at Dr. Bromley’s office? He was a French national named Alain Montague. Very nasty business, how we lost him.”

She caught the rebuke. “Yes, I should have left him alive. But why? He was a hired gun. He knew nothing. He’d been sent to kill, and he nearly succeeded.” Riley sent the man to kill you, Robin. Remember that. There could be more.

“Bygones.”

“I’ll find Riley, sir. And I will end him.”

“I trust you know where to start?”

“I do. I’ll report back when I have news.”

She hung up the phone, stared at the arsenal she’d just accumulated. Did a press check on the Glock, and headed into the living room. Girabaldi and her pet Secret Service agent were still dutifully sitting at the table where she’d left them.

“We have a problem,” she said.

“Another?” Girabaldi responded.

“Yes. We need to get you out of here.”

Robin grabbed the shoulder of her mother’s perpetually elegant Chanel jacket and pulled her from her seat. She tossed the agent his gun and backup. “Car. Now.”

He listened, ran to the car, and by the time Robin hurried Girabaldi out of the houseboat, he had the car started. Robin shoved Gina into the backseat and climbed in behind her.

As they drove up the deserted lane, Robin asked, “Do you have a safe house? Someplace you can go that no one knows about?”

“I have a place on the Chesapeake. It’s sheltered. No one can trace it to me.”

“Go there, now. Use your most secure protocols. No phones, nothing that can be used to track you.” She took Girabaldi’s cell and tossed it in the bushes.

“I’m safer with you.”

“No, you’re absolutely not. Our host here is involved in the plot.”

“Riley Dixon? Working against our interests? That’s not possible.”

“It is possible, because it’s true. He’s gone dark. I just talked to our...to a friend, who’s warned me what Riley is really up to. I have to find him and eliminate him. You won’t be safe with me. Head to your beach. Have Fumbles here watch your back.”

The agent gave her an exceptionally dirty look in the rearview. Robin smiled at him. “Let me off on the corner of Prince and South Pitt, then get her the hell out of here. Think you can do that?”

“Yes,” he grumbled.

“Good.”

Gina actually looked frightened, something Robin couldn’t remember ever seeing. “What are you planning, Robin? You can’t go up against Riley alone. He’ll see you coming a mile away.”

“No, he won’t.” Robin stared out the window for a moment. “You don’t know me very well, Gina. I will do whatever I must. That’s how I was raised, and that’s how I was trained.”

They were moving quickly now. There was very little traffic. They’d be at her drop-off point in a few minutes.

“Listen to me. You need to disappear. Riley is going to be hard to stop, yes, and I don’t need to be worrying that you’re safe, as well. When you see this splashed on the news, and that we have a resolution, you’ll know it’s time to come home. Can you do that for me? Just trust me for once and disappear?”

Gina nodded. “I’ve always trusted you,” she said quietly. “Be careful, Robin.”

She gave her mother a cocky smile. “I always am.”

Chapter 50

Kruger’s condo

JASON KRUGER LIVED on Connecticut Avenue, a few blocks northwest of the National Zoo. This was an area for professionals; there was a Metro stop almost across the street from his tan brick building, and multiple bars and restaurants spilling late-night light onto the sidewalks. Despite it being nearly two in the morning, there were plenty of people wandering around. It was last call, and the bars were beginning to empty.

Kruger’s building was guarded by a glass door requiring a keycard. There were no cops around. Fletcher’s instincts were right; they’d beaten them to the scene. Sam was about to pick up the phone and ask the condo company to buzz them in when Xander knocked the butt of his SIG hard against the plastic reader, and they heard a familiar buzz. The door was briefly unlocked.

“Where’d you learn that trick?” she asked, scooting inside.

“Denver, actually. Guy out there showed me. It doesn’t work all the time, but there’s a certain frequency that gets interrupted in some of them, and we just got lucky.”

“My little juvenile delinquent.”

He huffed out a laugh. The lobby was dark. They made their way toward the back, found the elevators. Inside, Xander brushed his lips across her forehead. “You hanging in there? It’s been a crazy day.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. But I’m telling you, Xander, the second this case is over, we are moving. I’m sick of my house being used as a halfway station for crime scenes.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She reached for the Glock at her hip, so aware of its strange weight. Hefted the cold, hard metal in her hand. Xander was watching her. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, clearly concerned.

Sam didn’t like guns. She didn’t like shooting them, cleaning them, having them around day in and day out. And right now, she abhorred the fact that she held one in her hand. But she wasn’t about to step into Kruger’s apartment without it.

She gave him a half smile. “Yes, I do.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the third floor. They crept down the hall, Xander leading the way, the M4 ready in his hands. The lighting was eerie, on some sort of dimmer, so the walls shone orange. The carpet cushioned their steps, and they made it to apartment 303 without a problem.