The Genesis Plague (2010)

defence techs. Those kinds of “things”.’ He glanced over at her to gauge her response.
    ‘Not to insult your work, especially since you just saved my life … but GSC sounds like a glorified temp agency,’ she cynically replied.
    ‘Temp agency sounds a lot better than what some senators call us. They have really affectionate names like “The Death Broker” or “Assassins Incorporated”.’
    She managed a smile.
    ‘You all right? Doesn’t look like you’re bleeding or—’
    ‘How do I know that guy with the gun wasn’t one of your men?’
    ‘Definitely not one of ours,’ he assured her. ‘Our assassins are a helluva lot better than that rookie. You’d have been dead, probably from a car bomb. Or at least a discreet sniper shot,’ he said after giving the logistics momentary consideration.
    ‘Thanks. That’s comforting.’
    ‘Hey, if you didn’t notice, those bullets were coming in my direction too,’ he reminded her. He pointed to his trashed stereo. ‘Could’ve been my head instead of my CD player.’
    ‘I suppose,’ she relented. ‘You know, you weren’t exactly a marksman back there, either.’
    He couldn’t help but grin. This woman was definitely feisty. ‘For the record, that’s the first time I’ve ever had to fire a gun at something other than a range target. And in my defence, shooting with my left hand while speeding in reverse on snow wasn’t in my training repertoire.’
    She curled her fingers to her lip and fought back the horrible thought of what the alternative outcome might have been had he not shown up. ‘Thanks, I guess. I don’t know what I’d have done if …’
    ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied humbly. ‘Just glad the timing worked out.’
    A pause.
    ‘So what exactly is your repertoire?’ The words had bite, but she couldn’t help it.
    ‘I’m an information guy. Intelligence. Glorified desk jockey. I interrogate witnesses and suspects … that sort of thing.’
    ‘Sounds like you’re a paid conversationalist.’
    ‘Or a bullshit detector.’ He smiled.
    She tried to suppress a laugh, but failed. The adrenaline buzz was abating and her muscles were starting to go limp again. ‘God, that was scary.’
    ‘Amen, sister. That was wicked crazy back there.’
    With Agent Flaherty’s defences down, she noticed a much more pronounced Boston accent. Running her fingers through her wet hair, she blew out a long breath. ‘So now what? Are you supposed to protect me or something?’
    ‘I’ll have to see what the manual says …’
    ‘There’s a manual?’ she scoffed.
    He shook his head and grinned.
    She groaned in frustration.
    ‘Our local office is next to the Federal Building downtown, near Faneuil Hall. We’ll head there, figure out what to do.’
    Brooke crossed her arms tight over her chest and stared out the frosty window.
    ‘Look. Here’s the deal. A colleague asked me to find you. He’s a deep-cover operative in Iraq. He’s the one who found your ID badge. I know that if he suspected you were in danger, he’d have told me.’
    ‘How do I know he didn’t call that guy too?’
    ‘Not a chance,’ he said.
    ‘Well, someone wants me dead. And the timing can’t be a coincidence. It’s got to be someone in the military, right?’ she insisted.
    Flaherty said nothing, because on that point, he’d have to concur. It had him wondering who else besides Jason could possibly have known about Brooke’s involvement in Iraq and could also be capable of coordinating a kill order so quickly. Why now - right now - had she suddenly become a threat?
    ‘I remember reading the small print in my confidentiality agreement. I don’t recall any mention of assassination as a means of recourse—’
    ‘We need to find this Frank guy you were talking about. I need that e-mail address. I can run its profile, the host server … find his IP address and trace him.’ Flaherty dipped into his pocket, pulled out his BlackBerry. He keyed in his security code, tapped on the web browser and held it out for her. ‘You said his address was on your computer, right?’
    Staring at the device with narrow, incredulous eyes, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you just give this to me earlier if you needed his email address?’
    ‘Basic psychology. I ask you for information, and your future response, your compliance or lack thereof, indicates your propensity to cooperate.’
    ‘Or maybe you just wanted to give me your card so I’d call you. I have a bullshit detector