To Russia With Love (Countermeasure Series) (2 page)

Cassandra had left her security position with her father’s firm, James Security Agency, and never looked back. Since their move to Ireland, she had applied her skills and expertise honed in the CIA and security work on Trevor and George’s projects, but most of her efforts centered on tracking any leads tied to Trevor’s investigation into his parents’ disappearance. She was the strategist while he was the go-with-it expert. Their union was one made in heaven.

They had decided to maintain Trevor’s mother’s maiden name, the one he took when he moved to the United States, as a cloak for their façade as a data recovery and investigations business, Bauer Enterprises. They planned to use it to handle any information related to their search for answers whenever they were on the hunt. It gave them a much-needed disassociation from their true identities, since they had no idea what or who they would come across while working on NSA cases or his parents’ investigation.

Trevor sat at his office desk, freshly showered and invigorated by the exercise. When he signed into the secure online chat application used to communicate with George, he found several messages waiting for him.

Where the fuck are you?

We need to talk.

Seriously. You should be here by now. No need to explain what you’ve been up to. I can imagine it involves Cassie.

Trevor chuckled as he typed a quick note letting his good friend know he was online. George immediately responded with a request for voice chat.

“Finally!” George’s excitement was almost palpable.

“What’s up?”

“Caught some intercepts through your father’s filter on Echelon.”

Trevor’s stomach clenched tight and a wave of apprehension swept through him. It was like that every time they discovered a new clue or tip tied to his father. They hadn’t come across any of late, and the little they had uncovered had led to dead ends. He was afraid to believe this time it could turn out differently.

“It sounds solid,” George added.

“Send me the deets.” The file transfers immediately popped on the screen. Trevor saved and promptly opened them.

The furrow on his brow grew deeper as he scanned the transcript. Once finished, he leaned back in his chair and processed the information. There wasn’t much to be considered. “We need to get our hands on those notes.”

“I thought you’d feel that way. I already have taps in place.”

“Thanks, George.”

“No problem. I’ll let you know if anything more pops up. Later.”

Trevor disconnected the call and thought about how to best to make contact with the man in possession of his father’s notes. He wasn’t about to openly disclose his interest in them or the possible link between them and his parents’ disappearance. It would only elicit bogus information based on a perception of what people thought he wanted to hear. Trevor wanted it straight and unadulterated. The use of the Bauer name as a cover would come in handy masking his connection to the Brennan family. If he collected any useful intel, he would toss it Cassandra’s way to get her take on it.

*****

Cassandra had grown to love the odd set-up of their new four-story home, and still chuckled over the forced exercise it provided.

The façade of the Georgian rarity had been preserved during the renovation of the four above-ground floors and excavation of the basement. In addition to the gym, the basement also housed their cellar; the main floor consisted of the foyer and a spacious comfortable sitting area. The open-concept kitchen and media room—a feast for the senses, decked out with both high-tech appliances and entertainment equipment—were located on the second floor. Their geek’s dream office shared the third floor with a spacious master suite that offered amazing views of St. Stephen’s Green from its tall Georgian windows. Last but not least, the top floor of the house was split between a guest suite and their computer equipment room, where they stored the tech gadgets they used on the rare occasions physical infiltration was needed in order to retrieve data.

The equipment storage room was another never-ending source of amusement for Cassandra. To the naked eye, it looked like a regular storage room, but a tap of fingertips on a hidden panel embedded in the back wall revealed the room where they stored their prized high-tech equipment, firearms, and munitions. Each time they unlocked the room, she felt like she was channeling Lara Croft.

Cassandra shook her head at the whimsical thought as she carried a steaming cup of tea up the stairs and into the office. She handed Trevor the cup and noticed his contemplative expression. Without missing a beat, she leaned down and tipped his face for a quick kiss on the lips. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Trevor brushed his thumb gently along the blackish-blue bruise discoloring the left side of her jaw and grimaced at the knowledge he’d put it there. His eyes shifted to the monitor. “George was just on.”

Cassandra straightened and casually moved over to her desk to begin her routine. “And?”

“He snared some intercepts from the filter we set up on my father.”

Cassandra swung her head to look at Trevor. His brows were drawn together, lining his forehead. Her heart-rate revved. “Whatever it is, we should follow up on it. No stone unturned, right? At some point it’ll pan out.”

“Well, we have a name and George just sent me the deets. I’m going to dig into it first.”

In the months that they’d been together, Cassandra had quickly caught on to Trevor’s mode of operation: read the file, check out the players, plan next steps. She respected that and knew once he wrapped his head around it, he would pull her in and they would work through it together. Until that happened, she gave him space and left him to it.

She settled at her desk and sent a quick email to Jessica Forrester, her best and oldest friend.
Hey, hit me up as soon as you get this.

They had been like sisters since high school and missed each other terribly since Cassandra’s move to Ireland. They compensated for the distance by spending countless hours on chat. It was because of the many hours on text and video calls that Cassandra had known for some time that something was niggling at her friend. Cassandra hoped Jessica would break and finally spill the beans about what was bothering her before she had to resort to brute force.

While she waited for Jessica to show up, her thoughts returned to Trevor. So far, his commitments with the NSA hadn’t interfered with their true quest. But the lack of activity on his parents’ case was getting to him. The couple of times they had come across leads she had seen his hopes dashed, each dead end a bitter pill to swallow. Her heart ached every time she saw the disappointment cloud his face. They had discussed the possibility of adding resources to their search, and Cassandra was thrilled at the opportunity to offer the job to Jessica for good. More like an ultimatum.

Almost on cue with her thoughts, a flashing light in the task bar caught her eye and words appeared on the screen.

Cassie, you there?

Here. Thanks for getting back so quickly!

Think you read my mind. I was about to call you. What’s up?

Remember when I mentioned that if you ever wanted a change in scenery to let me know?

Yeah?

I’m changing that to a direct job offer. We are. Trevor and I would love if you would consider helping us out with a few aspects of our business and other things. It would require that you also move here.

OMG! Did you say job? YES! Of course I’ll take it! Wait…what about Bob?

I’ve talked to him. He isn’t happy to let you go, but he understands we need you here. Business is booming!

So I don’t have to fight to leave? Yay! LOL!

Nope. Your passport is up to date, right? We’ll need to get you set up with a work permit and registered with the Garda National Immigration Bureau once you’re here.

Yes. Everything is still good. No worries. Work permit? Registration? Damn, sound ominous!

Nah, just a pain. We’re glad you’re coming! It will help with our load for sure.

Get ready Ireland, here I come! Let me know what I need to take with me for the work permit and I’ll let you know when I’ve squared everything here.

As Trevor would say, “Brilliant!” I can’t wait. You’ll stay with us until you find a place of your own. We have the space and you’ll have a floor all to yourself. We can spend more time together that way. Send your flight info when you’re booked. We’ll meet you at the airport.

Jinkies! Already bossy. Did you learn to be pushy from Trev? It’s working.

Velma? LOL! I’m looking forward to kicking your ass.

Just so you know…the office is not the same without you. It’s quiet now, no snoring to be heard.

Watch it, buster, or I’ll take back the offer.

NO!!! Okay. Looking forward to seeing more of you and the hunk. I gotta run! Give Trevor my love! Later!

*****

Trevor had listened to the call and read the transcripts several times. He’d used the initial information provided by George to trace the call to Mark Devlin Software, a budding computer development company out of Austin, Texas. Assuming that Mark Devlin was the man captured on the recorded conversation, Trevor sifted through the digital maze for details on him.

A quick search on Devlin revealed a sharp businessman who had picked the right time to invest in software development in a city that promised to be the next technology hub in the United States. Although Devlin himself was not a developer, he had the knowledge and instincts on how to harvest the best brains in the field. That explained why he was aware of Conor Brennan’s work. Trevor would have to tread softly with that one—or not.

Trevor hoped George’s taps would yield additional information on Mucha and the notes. He wanted to find out more about the man who apparently had been in close contact with his father. It was still too early to know if the taps would bear any fruit. For now, he had no time to waste.

With only a glimpse to check the clock, he picked up the phone and made the call.

“MDS Enterprises. How may I direct your call?”

“Mark Devlin, please.”

“May I have your name?

“Trevor Bauer.”

“One moment please while I connect you.”

After a brief pause, a curt prompt sounded on the line, “Devlin.”

“Mr. Devlin, I’m calling in regard to some scientific material you have in your possession that’s of interest to me.”

“Who is this again?”

“Bauer. Trevor Bauer.”

“I don’t think I know a Bauer. Have we met before?”

“Not yet. But I think after our talk you’ll want to.”

“Exactly what material are you referring to? Everything regarding our current product line can be found on our website—”

Trevor cut in before Devlin could continue to spew the standard company sales pitch. “Dr. Brennan’s notes. Word on the street is you’re in possession of them.” Trevor held a tight rein on his eagerness to get a hold of the notes. While talking, he cradled the phone against his shoulder and composed a succinct email to Devlin.

“How did you—”

Trevor interrupted him again. “I’m curious. How much do you want for the notes? I’m sure you must have a figure in mind.”

“I don’t know how you found out about them, but they’re not for sale. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve things to do.” Devlin’s response was terse and clipped, forbidding further discussion.

But Trevor wasn’t about to give up that easily. The email would be another pitch for the notes he wanted so badly. “Nevertheless, I’ve sent you an email. I recommend you read it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Trevor had thought hard about what he could offer Devlin in exchange for the notes. As he had run through the options in his mind, he recalled the dark undertone in Devlin’s voice when his conference call had been interrupted. Based on the little Trevor had been able to hear, the stolen files were of high value to his company.

“Hey! Hold on a second. How do you know my email?” Devlin asked in a rush.

“All that matters, Mr. Devlin, is that I can be of assistance with a more pressing situation—more like the big pickle—your company is facing at the moment.”

“What? How do you—?” Devlin sounded decisively flabbergasted.

“I’ve explained it in the email. But let me make it simple for you. I can track those missing files. My price, the notes. Think hard before you make your decision. Ask yourself, what’s more valuable to you: your company files, or some old man’s chicken-scratch?”

Trevor hung up and met Cassandra’s eyes trained on him.

“What do we have on our hands?”

“Nothing yet. Let’s hope he bites.”

“Give me names. Let me do my part.”

Trevor raised his eyebrow humorously. “Antsy, are you?”

“Just trying to help,” Cassandra shrugged. “Besides, if he bites we’ll be way ahead of the game.”

Laughing, Trevor sent the information to her computer and Cassandra began her background checks. The only sound that filled the office was the clack of the keys as their fingers danced across their keyboards. Trevor stretched back in his chair and was about to call it quits when he heard the familiar beep of an email hitting his inbox. He opened the application to find Devlin’s name on the screen. He cleared his throat and called out to Cassandra, “Heads up. I think we’ve got a bite.”

Cassandra swiveled her chair to face him as he opened the email. After a few minutes of deep silence she asked expectantly, “So?”

“Yep. A big bite. He’s agreed to the exchange. But I still need to stipulate a condition.”

“Condition? What condition?”

“That Mucha has to handle the exchange in person. I need to meet the man.”