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“You’re better than I expected,” Talia said.

“You weren’t easy to track,” Sloan replied. “Cost me a few sleepless nights.”

Talia smiled wryly. “I suppose that’s some comfort.” She gestured toward the envelope that Sloan had dropped onto her jacket. “She’s very beautiful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“Zamora is quite taken with her.”

“If he touches her, I’ll kill him.”

Talia regarded Sloan intently. “Is that why you came? So that I could give him a message?”

“No. If he doesn’t already know that, he’s a fool. And I don’t think he is.”

“Then why expose yourself to me?”

Sloan chuckled. “Have I? You already know who I am.” Her smile disappeared and her voice dropped. “And you know what matters to me. What else is there?”

“Yes, but now I know that you know who I am. So you’ve lost the advantage.”

Sloan spread her legs, draped her arms over the sides of the antique chair, and watched the fire eat away at the substance of the wood. “On the surface it looks like a stalemate.” She glanced over at Talia. “But I have one more move to make.”

“What would that be?” Talia refilled their wineglasses. “You can’t prove I sent those images. I often have visitors. My computer is readily accessible.”

“I doubt any of them have the skill to infiltrate a highly protected computer network at Port Authority, intercept and reroute dozens of shipping containers, and alter the security programs set to track them.”

Sloan was impressed with Talia’s nerves. Her expression didn’t waver.

She gave no sign of being shocked or anxious. “But you do. And given time, I’ll be able to prove it.”

Talia crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “An ambitious undertaking.”

“Do you want to bet against me?”

The silence stretched for several minutes until Talia sighed. “No.

I don’t think so.”

Secretly, Sloan was relieved. Talia was good. Very good. And the

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odds were probably sixty-forty that Sloan would actually be able to prove her complicity in the human trafficking operation at the port.

She had wagered that like her, Talia would bet the odds. And when losing meant decades in a federal prison, a smart woman would not risk coming up short.

“I should tell you,” Talia said, “that I am not in his employ. I’m a freelancer. I don’t have any information of value.”

Sloan and Rebecca had discussed the merits of arresting Talia and trying to force her into testifying against Kratos Zamora. They’d agreed that the evidence supporting her involvement in anything illegal was thin, and cyberevidence was often the least convincing to a jury because they didn’t understand it. Any good attorney would know that and advise Talia not to deal.

“I would imagine that your freelance enterprises must be very interesting. I’d really like to get a look at them one of these days.”

Sloan spoke casually, but she knew that Talia would get the message.

Sloan had the skill to chase her through cyberspace for as long as she wanted, monitoring her activities and making it very difficult for her to do business. Eventually, Talia would slip up, and when she did, Sloan would be there. She was not only a threat to Talia’s business, but her freedom.

“While I think you’re terribly attractive,” Talia said, “and I admit I had hoped we would have the opportunity to share some of our skills privately, I’m not interested in a long-term relationship.”

“No promises if your name surfaces in the future,” Sloan said,

“but at the moment, neither am I.”

“Then what is it you want?”

“Nothing very complicated. I just want you to send your…

client…a report with a little something extra from me.”

“You understand that if he discovers I’ve compromised him, he’ll kill me.”

“Fortunately for you, there are only a few of us good enough to prove it.” Sloan grabbed her jacket and stood up. She removed a jump drive from the front pocket and held it out to Talia. “I think you know what to do with this.”

Talia rose and closed her fingers around Sloan’s. She stepped so close their bodies touched. Skimming her palm over Sloan’s chest, she said, “It’s not too late for that private conversation. After all, we’ve

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already started, there’s still half a bottle of wine, and we both know it would be good.”

Sloan extracted her fingers and dropped the jump drive into Talia’s open palm. “You were quite a challenge, and I enjoyed the hunt. But make no mistake. If any harm comes to Michael, I’ll come for you too.

And I’ll never stop.”

“I envy her,” Talia said.

Sloan shrugged into her jacket and started toward the door, Talia beside her. “Thanks for the wine.”

“You’re welcome. I’m only sorry I couldn’t offer you more than that.” Talia kissed her on the mouth, then opened the door. “Good night.”

v

As soon as Sloan turned the corner, she saw Rebecca’s Corvette parked across the street from their headquarters. She rolled into the garage, parked, and rode the elevator to the third floor.

“That was fast,” Rebecca said. Rebecca was alone in the conference room. “Should we have gone in wired?”

Sloan kicked out a chair and dropped into it. “No. She’s careful.

We wouldn’t have gotten anything.”

“Did we get something?”

“Nothing you want to know about.” Grinning, Sloan checked her watch. By morning she expected to be walking around in Kratos Zamora’s virtual office. She’d be able to see who he e-mailed, his financial statements, his business plans, his real estate holdings, and anything else he did with his computer. The cybertap didn’t precisely fall under the investigative parameters the team was officially bound by, but then the laws regarding cyberinvestigation were still murky. “To be safe, we’ll need to corroborate anything we eventually want to bring to court, but we’re finally getting ahead in this game.”

Rebecca nodded, thinking of Jeff and Jimmy, and the men who had taken their fists to Sandy. “Work it.”

“That’s my plan.” Sloan started for the door, then turned back. “I, uh…I want to thank you for trusting me on this. I know I screwed up not telling you sooner.”

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“Yeah, you did.” Rebecca rubbed both hands over her face. “But I never doubted which side of the line you stood on.”

“Thanks.” Sloan shrugged. “I suppose you know you look like shit. Maybe you should call it a night.”

“I’m going to. I just need to check in with Mitchell.”

“Okay then.” Sloan left her there, hoping she’d get some rest, because she had a feeling things were going to move quickly now.

Upstairs, Michael was waiting on the sofa in the living room, curled up in the corner, reading. Sloan pulled off her jacket, tossed it on the adjoining chair, and kissed her.

“She gave you wine?” Michael grabbed Sloan’s arm and pulled her down next to her.

“A very nice red Burgundy.”

Michael raised her eyebrows. “Friendly of her.”

“We parted on friendly terms.”

“You got what you needed?”

Sloan nodded. “Yes.”

“I gather she didn’t.”

Laughing, Sloan kissed her again. “You’d have to ask her, but I don’t think so.”

“No need.” Michael cupped the back of Sloan’s neck and pulled her closer. The lingering taste of wine and the heat of Sloan’s mouth were intoxicating. “I’m just feeling a little territorial.”

“I’ve got a few hours before I need to get to work.”

Michael reached behind her and blindly dropped the book onto the end table. “Then let’s not waste any time.”

v

Dell knocked on the open conference room door. “You want to see me, Lieutenant?”

Rebecca was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed. “Come on in. Have a seat, Detective.” She straightened. “Any word from Irina?”

“Yes ma’am. I was on my way back from seeing her when you called.” Dell pulled out the chair opposite Rebecca. “Olik left a message at the club. He wants to see her Wednesday night.”

“She’s still at the apartment?”

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“Yes. I’m going to meet her there and we’ll go over to Ziggie’s together.”

“I don’t think we can risk wiring you. Not for the first meet with Olik. He’s going to be suspicious.”

“I agree. But at least we’ll be at the club. That’s probably safer than meeting him anywhere else.”

Rebecca nodded. “I’m going to put Jasmine inside again.”

Dell nodded. “Jasmine will need an escort. One of the Kings, maybe.”

“How much do you trust them? I don’t want to bring them in on the whole investigation, but they need to know there’s some risk.”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea what’s going on. I trust them.” Dell considered the guys. “Phil has a bit of a thing for Irina.

He’d be willing to help.”

“We’ll have Jasmine talk to them.”

“Okay.” Dell hesitated. “Do we have anything from Bishop Thomas yet?”

“He was instructed to put a message out that he wants in on the next big party. We’re waiting for someone to contact him. Hopefully Irina will get some idea as to when and where that will be in time for us to set up the takedown. I want her to be there.”

“And Sandy?”

“We’ll play that as it comes.” Rebecca watched Dell, waiting.

“She told me what she wants to do. About applying to the academy.

That you’ll back her application.”

“She’s a natural. And she wants it.” Rebecca grinned. “She’s a lot like you that way.”

“I just want you know,” Dell said as she stood, “that I’m glad she’s got you to help her.”

“She’s got something she needs even more than that. She’s got you, Mitchell. Don’t ever let her forget that.”

“No ma’am. I won’t.”

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ChAPTER TwENTy-SEvEN

Darling, your brother is here,” Sofia Zamora said from the doorway of Kratos’s den.

Kratos smiled at his wife and motioned her in as he placed the report he was reading next to his coffee cup on the table where he was enjoying a late breakfast. The small dining alcove adjacent to his den overlooked the gardens in the rear of their home. “Tell him to come back. And would you have Marianna bring in more coffee and food.”

“Of course.” She leaned down and kissed him. “You won’t forget that we have tickets to the symphony on Friday.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He caught her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. She smelled of roses, the delicate scent reminding him of her deceptive strength. Her small-boned figure, luminous dark eyes, and pale skin made her appear fragile, but he knew that, like the rose, she was not only beautiful but also dangerous. She guarded her territory—her family—as fiercely as he guarded his business. They were well matched.

“And tell Jacqueline,” his wife said, referring to his private secretary, “to schedule you for a haircut too.” She ran her fingers through the hair just above his collar. “You’re looking a little uncivilized.”

He laughed and pulled out his PDA to send a message. “Done.”

“Thank you, darling.” Sofia skimmed his mouth with hers. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Kratos watched her depart, feeling a pull in his groin. Even after two children she was still striking, and he knew he was the envy of other men. He had chosen well. He stretched out his legs, pleased with

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his life. Gregor entered followed by the maid, who pushed a cart laden with more coffee and pastries. She arranged these on the table and quickly left without making eye contact with either man.

“You’re up early,” Kratos said. Much of Gregor’s part of the business involved meetings with men who spent their nights in bars or private clubs and didn’t go to bed until after sunrise. Ordinarily, his brother’s day began at three in the afternoon.

“I felt the need for confession this morning,” Gregor said, helping himself to coffee.

“And now you feel closer to God?” Kratos laughed.

“God’s money, definitely.”

“I take it our religious friend enjoyed his evening out.”

“Not only the evening, but the company.” Gregor tilted back in his chair with a smirk. “Apparently one of the girls twists his crank in just the right direction. He wants her again.”

“How soon?”

“Whatever she did to him, he’s addicted. As soon as we can set something up.”

Kratos frowned. The interruption in their supply lines from the port, coupled with a lapse in security at one of the Russian safe houses, had strained their escort business. If all their girls were out on private calls, it was difficult to set up a group gathering quickly. “Will he solo?”