What they were doing was for the good of this country. Would people die? As in any war, it was certainly possible. But his plan would strengthen this country against the potential of terrorist attacks that could wipe out Western civilization as they knew it. Instead of thousands of dying, hundreds of thousands would die. His pleas had fallen on deaf ears for decades, and now, with the country in financial and international turmoil, it was time to correct its mistakes.
The fact that he’d become even wealthier than his parents was a bonus.
In just a few months, he’d never have to bow down to his family’s whims again. He’d prove that he was a real man who would no longer be manipulated by them in their plays for power and wealth. It was his turn to shine while they and his brother could retreat into the darkness where they’d stuck him all these years.
It would be his turn to run for president, and there wasn’t a single candidate who would be able to defeat him.
Only a few of his most trusted allies knew of his plan. Everything would be as perfect as Evans’s employment file if they could just eliminate that lawyer and reporter. They were like those no-see-ums, insignificant and annoying, but they’d already proved smarter than he’d given them credit for.
Evidence had been planted to ensure no one would look any further than the two of them for Rinaldi’s murder. His first choice was for the two of them to be put down before they could talk to anyone. But if that wasn’t possible, he would also have a plan in place in case they were arrested.
The flight attendant appeared before him, her shirt now unbuttoned to expose the swells of her generous tits. “The captain would like to inform you we’ll be taking off now, and that he anticipates a smooth flight to Las Vegas, sir.”
Watching her take her seat, he took a sip of his scotch and considered his options. Logan Bradford and Rachel Dawson could hide for now, but when the moment was right, they’d play right into his hands.
First stop—Las Vegas.
Next stop—the White House.
Chapter Eighteen
AS RACHEL TYPED on the laptop that Sawyer had dropped off and nibbled on her last square of chocolate, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the inventions of computers and the cocoa plant. Since her last orgasm, she’d been ravenous and making her way through every type of junk food in the vending machine.
The recognition of her feelings for Logan had scared her spitless, and without her usual rocky road ice cream to soothe her, she’d just have to make do with chocolate bars.
With his lips tilted up in a grin, Logan watched her lick her fingers clean of the chocolate. “Hungry?”
She scrolled down the page on viral hemorrhagic fevers until she found the one specifically on the Leopold virus. A pang of satiety hit her stomach. “Not anymore.”
As she read how the virus ravaged the body, she couldn’t understand how anyone would be so cruel as to intentionally release it. Did Evans and Fink have a grudge against Senator Hutton or one of the persons attending Friday’s speech at the Tuscany? Were they acting alone? And what did it have to do with Rinaldi? She played with the idea that maybe he had been behind it. He was sadistic enough to enjoy the tremendous amount of pain and grief that this would inflict. He’d go from a serial killer to the largest mass murderer the world had ever known. She and Logan needed to find the link between those agents and Rinaldi.
Nausea swirled through her. After reading this, she was regretting the candy and chips she’d just finished. “According to the CDC, they’re not certain if Leopold is contagious before the symptoms start. That means every exposed person could potentially infect everyone in their path until they realize they’re sick and are isolated in the hospital.” She closed the laptop, not wanting to read any more. It was like a best-selling horror book or a Hollywood blockbuster. “Worst-case scenario, the wealthy men and women who attend Senator Hutton’s speech get on airplanes and fly across every continent on the planet, killing millions of people before we can convince the government that it happened.”
Logan threw his arm over her shoulders and tugged her into him, kissing the top of her head. “We won’t let that happen.”
The weight of the world was on their shoulders, and she was glad she didn’t have to carry the burden alone. If she had to do it with anyone, Logan was the man she wanted beside her. And above her. And behind her . . .
Logan’s new cell phone rang, playing a popular Taylor Swift song. She laughed. No wonder Sawyer was so eager to make sure Logan chose that particular phone when he’d dropped them off earlier. She picked up her new phone off the nightstand and checked the settings to see what song Sawyer had chosen for her. Frowning as she listened, she wondered why he’d selected Kelly Clarkson’s “Miss Independent.”
He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket. “The guys are here.” Frowning, he ran his fingers through her hair and gave her a side-glance. “I’m not sure how to prepare you for them. They’re unique.”
After meeting Sawyer and hearing about their propensity for sharing women, she wouldn’t have expected any less. “I’m sure if they’re your friends, I’ll like them.”
Logan picked at some fuzzy lint on her shorts, the back of his wrist brushing against the skin of her thigh. “We went through a lot together in the army. Experiences like that can either create lifelong bonds or destroy friendships completely. I was lucky to work beside men whom I not only call my friends, but consider my brothers.”
She would’ve expected a man with four navy SEAL brothers to have spent his life in the military. “You mentioned something in the car when I asked you about why you left. You said you and the army weren’t a good fit. What did you mean by that?”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I have a hard time blindly following orders.”
Mockingly, her hand flew to her chest. “No. I’m shocked.”
He gave her a smile, but it quickly disappeared. “The guys and I worked in intelligence. We came across some sketchy information and agreed it was probably a setup. My commanding officer felt differently and sent in some men to do a rescue op. Turns out we were both right. The rebels actually did have an American relief worker, a girl who couldn’t have been older than twenty, as a hostage. But when the soldiers entered the home where they were holding her, it triggered a bomb and a planned attack.”
He paused, the air heavy with grief and the memory of spilled blood. Her heart ached as if she had been there in Afghanistan with him. She wanted to hold him, comfort him, but she knew the best thing she could do for him now was to just listen and allow him to finish.
His hands curled into fists. “Twelve men lost their lives because of the information we gave to our commander. Twelve men lost their lives because they didn’t have the right to disobey orders. Twelve men died because there was nothing I could do to stop it.” He pushed off of the bed and paced the room. “My commanding officer was a good man. He didn’t rush the soldiers into the house because he wanted glory or because he was an asshole. He disregarded the risk because there was a woman in trouble and he couldn’t handle the thought of her suffering. He wanted to be her hero. Instead, he was her executioner. And his own.”
Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she blinked them back and shifted her position on the bed, throwing her legs over the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He stopped pacing and turned to her, his brows furrowed. “Thank you, but you don’t need to feel sorry for me. I survived.” He sat on the bed next to her and held her hand. “But it changed me. That’s when I began to need control over every aspect of my life, including sex. The guys you’re about to meet are a lot like me. Control . . . it’s important to all of us. Maybe that’s why we all became hackers. We couldn’t handle having something out of our control.” He hefted her to her feet. “Come on. I’d like to introduce you to them.”