Whispered Lies

  He was a study of ruthless control.

  She sensed more than saw the entire room focus expectant gazes on Carlos, who leaned the palms of his hands on the table inches away from her.

  Those perfectly formed lips parted when he said, "Don't. Be. Coy. You have no allies in this room at the moment. Our team just risked their lives on a tip from you without even knowing who you were or if they were walking into a trap. If you hope to leave here, then you need to be more forthcoming."

  She jerked back as if slapped by the deadly tone.

  No one had talked to her in that way, threatening her outright, since her miserable excuse for an ex-husband had played her like a fool. She'd spent too many nights alone, frustrated over having no life and no family because of the ax both her ex and Durand Anguis dangled over her head. All that frustration rolled into one large knot of anger.

  She slapped a hand on the table, then fisted her fingers. "I've been very damned forthcoming. I've risked my life to help put away criminals. What do I know about the Anguis? They're a bunch of murdering bastards driven by money and power. Why hasn't your organization done anything about them?"

  Carlos stood away from the table. A muscle in his neck pulsed. He stared at her for a long moment, then his chest expanded with a slow breath. That tight control hid whatever he was thinking.

  When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but demanding. "Give me the name of the person who sent you the card."

  She'd put this off as long as she could. "My friend is Linette Tassone, and we attended the Ecole d'Ascension in Carcassonne, France, at the same time. We shared a dorm room and common study interests. Like me, she had a knack for computers." Gabrielle noticed Gotthard typing. Taking her statement? "When I graduated, I went on to receive a degree in computer science in the UK, then I decided to search for Linette. That's when I found out about her...death, but I always questioned the story of her disappearance and now I feel justified."

  "What story?" Carlos asked.

  "Linette's father said she'd run away and had taken up with a bunch of degenerates. He said her stupid actions got her killed, but he didn't tell me more. I was shocked and eighteen when I made the trip to see her family, too young to press her father for details."

  "Why don't you believe him?" Rae asked.

  Gabrielle waved her hands in exasperation. "First of all, Linette would never have defied her father because she was terrified of him and an obedient child. Second, she was so shy it took us three months of seeing each other every day to finally speak, and I spoke first. Third, Linette was far from stupid. She was brilliant. And, fourth, she would never have just disappeared without saying a word to me."

  "So what do you think happened?" Carlos watched her as though he judged every word, trying to come up with a verdict.

  "I don't know," Gabrielle admitted quietly. "I didn't so much accept what her father had said as I finally accepted that Linette was gone forever after years of searching for her. But now I believe something happened to her she couldn't avoid, like she was kidnapped or coerced to go somewhere. I just can't figure out the grave in the family plot with her headstone or her father's story. If Linette isn't dead, then who did he bury?" She sent that last question to Carlos, who didn't show any reaction, so Gabrielle went on.

  "Anyhow, I had planned to work somewhere until-" She took a deep breath; the strain of the last few days and now having people pry into her private life weighed her down emotionally. "Until I married Roberto. After our divorce, I was attacked and decided to work from my home." Hiding like a criminal after he'd first terrified her with his fists. She'd been ready to divorce and then imprison him until he explained how he'd publicly smear her and her family's name, which would have destroyed her father, who was at the time in a tight campaign for his new position. Roberto had secretly filmed her the few times she'd shared his bed and manipulated the video to something so degrading she got nauseous just thinking about the copy he'd given her.

  Her father's career would be destroyed and her stepsisters would live under a cloud of shame by association to her. So she'd agreed to Roberto's terms, which painted him as the victim of a loveless marriage who divorced her.

  If only conceding her pride had ended it all. She suspected the enormous insurance policy Roberto carried on her listing him as the beneficiary was the motivation for the attacks, but if she went after him, he'd turn on her family.

  As it was, he was content to either wait on her to die or only make attempts that appeared as accidents and could not be traced to him.

  "I picked up on an odd posting on a Web site message board and realized it had to be some sort of code," she continued, explaining why she was in hiding beyond fear of Roberto. "I was shocked at what I learned when I broke the code. I watched the posts for a couple weeks, trying to decide if it was someone playing or seriously planning an attack on a flight from Heathrow to Wales-"

  "The prime minister's flight that was diverted in '99?" Gotthard had stopped typing.

  She slowly nodded her head.

  "MI5 picked up posts from the terrorists that tipped them off-" Gotthard's words died when she shook her head.

  "I figured no one would believe me if I just called up to tell them, and I didn't want to become the target of terrorists. So I set up a network to send e-mails with enough markers to alert MI5. If I have to, I can quote the text in each e-mail. I began using an alias to protect myself after that."

  She paused, hoping for some words of understanding. None. "I started looking for information then since the Internet was such an easy place for criminals to maintain contact and pass plans. When I found things that might affect a country's security, I then had to find a way to get this information to worthy intelligence groups." She gave Carlos a peeved glance. "Someone who would have shown more respect to an informant."

  Carlos lifted an eyebrow in a don't-get-snippy look.

  She shrugged. "I didn't want the information to land in the wrong hands. If you believe I'm Mirage, then you should know how much I've helped in the Middle East."

  Guarded looks passed around the room.

  "Why do you think Linette didn't include her return address?" Gotthard asked Gabrielle.

  "She's probably worried that I might try to find her and land in the same place she's in or get into some kind of trouble hunting her down." Which was exactly what Gabrielle had been contemplating, but these people didn't need that information. "I think she's a prisoner somewhere and it has something to do with that fratelli reference." She didn't want these people thinking Linette was a criminal.

  Carlos paused his tapping fingers. "What about your resources in South America. How did you find them?"

  "In a chat room for an underground operation in South America that is part of an organized watchdog group, for lack of a better description. They want to rid their country of the drug lords, which may not be a realistic goal, but at least they are doing something. I created a communication path with someone there in a way that would not lead anyone to me in case it was a trap."

  Gabrielle would share all she could, but not a word about how the Anguis were responsible for her mother's death. She'd kept the secret safe for the first few years in deference to her father's demand. But now she had to keep it secret to protect her own life.

  Who knew where the information from this room would go after this meeting? If Durand Anguis learned the whole story and couldn't find her, he'd go after her family.

  She rubbed her tired eyes, thinking. "I don't know what to say that will convince you, but I've risked my neck to help intelligence agencies and now you, even though I don't know who or what you are. I'd never heard of Mandy before getting the postcard."

  "Guest arriving," the mechanical voice announced again.

  All eyes turned to the flat screen where a silver Lamborghini entered the gate.

  "Who's that?" Gabrielle asked, nibbling on her fingernail.

  "The boss." Rae tapped her pen on the table. "You said Linette disappeared w
hile you were at school. What did everyone say about her missing?"

  "Nothing really. It wasn't that unusual." Gabrielle stopped fidgeting with her fingernail, swiped a hand over her hair, and explained, "Linette wasn't in class one day. When I went to our room to check on her, all her possessions were gone. I asked questions, but no one would tell me anything, not even her family's address so I could write her. The school is very strict. They don't tolerate being questioned."

  "Wait," Carlos said, staring over her head in concentration. "You said nothing really happened when Linette went missing and that it wasn't that unusual? Did you mean it wasn't unusual for Linette or for others to go missing?"

  Footsteps approached from the top of the stairs.

  "Others," Gabrielle answered, keeping her eyes on the stairwell. "Students dropped out all the time without notice."

  When another towering hunk in a leather motorcycle jacket entered, the room came to attention. He was maybe late thirties and wore jeans in a way any woman would appreciate. Just as imposing as the rest of this bunch with his dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and blue eyes so intense she felt as though he expected her to give up her secrets with a look.

  Carlos took a seat beside Gotthard.

  "Gabrielle, I'm Joe," the new man said politely, before he addressed the others in the room. "Hell of a jump you made. Good job. Gotthard has kept me posted on this morning's conversation and running a deep profile on Gabrielle, cross-checking her story."

  She glanced at Gotthard, who had leaned an elbow on the table and propped his head with a meaty hand. He nodded at Joe. "Everything she said checks out."

  Gabrielle frowned. "Given my situation, did you really think I'd try to lie my way out of this?"

  Joe's narrowed gaze tightened. His voice was whisper soft. "I expect anything at any time, just as everyone else in this room. Underestimating an adversary would be a stupid mistake for those in our line of work, and I assure you I don't hire stupid people."

  "Excusez-moi," she murmured in apology.

  Joe nodded and continued, "Gotthard turned up some interesting cross-references. Unlike most of the other elite schools in France, the one Gabrielle went to was a private operation, funded by private investors and donations. Many graduates from there went on to have distinguished careers. The school is in a castle that has belonged to a local family for umpteen generations. But there seems to be a high percentage of dropouts. I'll let him explain further."

  Gotthard thumped his thumb against the laptop. "I wouldn't have thought much about the dropout rate since these are privileged and spoiled kids who probably don't finish anything."

  Gabrielle stiffened at the insult. She'd worked her bum off her whole life to prove she was not some indulged child.

  "I expected to see them popping up anywhere from news articles to job status to marriage announcements," Gotthard went on. "Out of the six that disappeared the year Gabrielle was in school, only two have turned up. Both male. The four females are all listed as deceased."

  Gabrielle's heart pounded. More confirmation that something had happened to Linette. "Why would her father say she was dead if she wasn't?"

  Carlos answered, "He either believes she is buried in that grave or can't risk telling the truth. Was there anything special or different about Linette-or you-we should know?"

  Yes, but the less everyone knew about her the better Gabrielle felt her chances were of getting out of this. "No."

  "So what do you think happened to Linette?" Rae asked.

  "I imagined everything over the years, even that her father might have sent her to a convent where she wouldn't have been able to contact me." Gabrielle took a breath. Her gaze sought out and didn't waver from Carlos's. "But I can't conceive that he might be a party to something that would have hurt her physically, so he must believe she is dead."

  "Or she did something he considered the same as being dead to him," Rae suggested.

  "Not Linette." Gabrielle didn't even try to hide her exasperation. "This fratelli must know something."

  Silence fell over the room suddenly, no exhale of breath, no tapping keys, no rustle of paper.

  Carlos could feel the panic seizing Gabrielle in spite of the strong front she was putting up, but could do little about it since he wouldn't see her again after this meeting.

  Once Joe had a plan, they would all head out. Carlos would normally walk away without looking back, no sleep lost over a prisoner. But he'd heard enough to convince him Gabrielle had landed here out of honorable reasons and had no idea just how bad a spot she was in and that her freedom might be nothing more than a memory after today.

  He'd argue in Gabrielle's favor for Joe to keep her in protective custody at a BAD safe house until all of this was over, but she'd have to show Joe she had a value for that concession.

  And he doubted she had anything left to barter with.

  "Gabrielle?" Carlos waited until her gaze met his and hoped like hell she got his drift. He warned her, "If there's anything you haven't shared yet, don't hold it back from Joe."

  Her violet-blue eyes widened for a flash before a resigned mask settled across her face. He had no idea if she understood or not, but he'd do his best to help her.

  "What is this fratelli?" Gabrielle asked carefully.

  "In for a penny, in for a pound," Rae said softly, but her words were clear in the total quiet.

  Carlos faced Joe. "Might as well tell her since she isn't going anywhere until we get to the bottom of all this, and the more she understands, the more she can share."

  Joe appeared to think for a minute, then gave a short nod. "The Fratelli is a ghost group behind the viral deaths last year in India and the U.S., plus a couple other earlier attacks."

  Gabrielle frowned. "I thought the media said India was an anomaly and a pharmaceutical company was behind the U.S. attack?"

  "You haven't hacked quite as deep into intelligence mainframes as you thought," Hunter pointed out. "The public thinks the same thing you do, which is what they need to think while we search for this group, or paranoia will create chaos and likely play into whatever the Fratelli is planning."

  "What do they want?" Gabrielle asked.

  "That's the million-dollar question," Joe said. "The only reason I'm willing to discuss any of this with you is because that postcard is the first significant lead we've gotten on this group. So the more important question is what are they going to do next, and how did Mandy play into those plans?"

  "Mandy was enrolled in the Ecole d'Ascension, too," Gotthard interjected.

  "Really?" Gabrielle whispered with a tremor of unease.

  "That's not all," Joe added. "Another girl left with Mandy, signed out for a week."

  Gotthard lifted his gaze to Gabrielle along with everyone else.

  "I don't know about another girl," Gabrielle answered before someone asked her.

  "Give us a rundown on the second girl," Carlos told Gotthard.

  "Amelia Fuentes. Family is the third-largest coffee-bean producer in Columbia. The school records show she was heading home and taking Mandy with her, but no one has reported her missing. She's due back in three days."

  Joe interjected, "I had operations place a call the phone ID service would show as the school calling the Fuentes home and asked if Amelia was available to come to the phone. The housekeeper said Amelia had a change of plans and decided to vacation in Germany for a few days."

  "We need to find out what she knows about Mandy," Rae pointed out. "In fact, that school seems to be a common denominator."

  "Exactly." Joe checked his watch, then told Carlos, "That's why I need your team rolling by tonight."

  "What are you going to do with her?" Carlos said, indicating Gabrielle, who watched in silence.

  "Security is on the way to pick her up and take her to holding," Joe said.

  "No." Gabrielle stood.

  Joe faced her, legs apart and arms crossed.

  Carlos pressed, "Got something else to tell us?"
>
  "Yes." Gabrielle's effort to scramble for a plan showed so clearly it was pitiful, but her eyes brightened all of a sudden. "You'll need help getting inside the school campus."

  "Not really," Gotthard answered. "I can access the plans."

  "But, uh-" She lifted a hand to her head, fingers clenching her hair. "You can't just walk onto the property."

  "I thought you'd figured out that we're covert operatives," Rae told her drily.

  Gabrielle swung an irritated glare at Rae. "I do understand that much, but I doubt you can recon that property by the time Amelia is due to return. The institution's security is superior to that of a UN meeting."

  "Guest arriving," the speaker announced again.

  Gabrielle turned wild eyes to the monitor, where a black panel van pulled into the drive. Then she faced Joe with determination in her voice. "Breaking the school's security systems will take more expertise than deciphering the code on Linette's card."

  "How would you know?" Hunter asked.

  "Because I created software for their security division," Gabrielle fired right back.

  "So you'll just give the administrative control to us." Gotthard hefted one shoulder in a negligent shrug.

  "You'll need more than that, like a good reason to be on the property." She met Carlos's gaze, the hope for support so strong in her eyes it was all he could do to stand in place.

  The door upstairs opened and heavy footsteps entered.

  "You can't just walk on the property," Gabrielle said in a flurry of panicked words. "The students are chosen to go there. Nothing, not even more money, can change the rule that every student has to wait at least six months to be allowed admittance once they are accepted. Instructors go through a twelve-month evaluation phase. Most of the staff has been there for over twenty years, and new staff must go through the same twelve-month vetting period. They have their own maintenance people. Visitors must be invited, and no one comes to visit, not even family, with less than a two-week notice."

  Boots pounded down the stairs, each thump sounding as menacing as a death knell.

  "So there's no way to get inside unnoticed?" Carlos asked.

  Two men dressed in black gear similar to that of SWAT teams trudged into the room. The only identifying mark on their clothing was a bold SECURITY written across the front of their jackets.