and entered.
It was time for this job to really begin.
While most of the building had been relatively quiet, Dixon’s office buzzed with activity. Logan had to quickstep out of the way of a harried looking man talking over his shoulder while straightening his tie.
Did Dixon fear for his life here? In the one place, he should be safest?
The building appeared to be locked down tight, and this was the middle of a typical business day.
If Logan made the cut, there would be time for questions. Until then, he’d rather keep his suspicions to himself. It wouldn’t be a good look to come in and start stirring things up. Their objective was to observe for now, nothing more.
“Here for the interview?”
Logan stiffened. He’d been tracking the crooked tie man. He’d never seen her coming.
Slowly he turned his head and took in the curvy figure holding a clipboard in front of her.
She held it out, the hint of an amused smile curving the corners of her mouth.
Kelsey.
She didn’t look like herself. Not one bit.
Her previously pixie short hair was curled and...fluffed? It framed her face in a curving, elegant way as opposed to its unruly nature. She wore make-up, which only served to accentuate her eyes and the fullness of her lips. That was the only thing suggestive about her. The blouse she had on under her suit jacket buttoned up to her collar bone and her loose trousers only hinted at the curves underneath. And yet, she was as sexy as ever. Damn him for noticing.
He cleared his throat, aware that he was once again staring at her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Sign this. I’ve got some paperwork for you. Have a seat?” She amped up the smile and gestured to a line of chairs against the wall.
“Thank you.”
She spared him one last smile before turning toward a minimalist secretary desk with only a laptop visible.
So much for hoping they’d stay away from each other.
Logan turned his attention on the competition. A few other men sat waiting for their turn. They wore either suits, like him, or slacks with polo shirts advertising their company.
Another marker of just how unusual all of this was.
For the most part, members of congress entrusted their safety to the Secret Service. Those who needed additional security usually contracted one of the many firms to handle issues for them. These days letting an agency or firm handle security reduced a lot of the headache, but for some reason Dixon wanted to manage it all himself.
Why? Just what had Dixon done to kick the hornets’ nest? And how far did this go?
3.
Tuesday. Unknown.
Skilton drummed his fingers on the desk.
This next task would be the worst. Every update from his CIA resources was more and more problematic. When he’d first been appraised of the joint task force, he’d assigned resources and put it out of his mind. This wasn’t the first time a government agency had set out to investigate events Skilton had orchestrated, but it was the most annoying. They’d already interfered with several plans in the works and eliminated Skilton’s pet team of guard dogs.
Nothing to do but rip the bandage off and handle them himself. Perhaps it was something he could do while addressing his problematic senator?
He opened the report and skimmed the first few lines.
“They’re—what?” he snarled and reread it all again.
How did they know? Where was this information coming from? And why were his people just now learning of it?
Events were in motion that could not be stopped.
He read the rest of the report once, then the full thing again.
These annoying Americans knew about Dixon, but did they know everything?
Skilton doubted it. If they did, Dixon would be in custody.
Where were they getting this kind of intel?
His forger, Obran, must have rolled over. Skilton had put some stock in the man’s silence, seeing as nothing had happened following his disappearance into federal custody. It was a gamble Skilton had taken and now lost.
He massaged his temples.
This could be salvaged, but after this anyone with even the slightest connection to Obran would need to be dealt with. That was highly inconvenient considering how heavily Skilton had leaned on the man.
And it was time to handle this task force. Skilton couldn’t afford to allow their plans to be ruined again.
He’d go to Washington and handle this personally. Once on the ground, he could better devise a plan for dealing with the feds. Maybe he’d get lucky and kill two birds with one stone?
Either he figured this out, or it