“Yeah, I’m sure,” Tate answered furiously.
Lara stepped far enough away from Marcus that he couldn’t take her weapon and trained it on him. “You better explain damn fast before I shoot you.” How in the hell had he escaped from prison and made it all the way here to Colorado? And why was he dressed as if he were going to the office?
Marcus’s brows narrowed. “Put the gun down. I’m here to talk. I need to talk to Tate.”
“Talk? You take one step toward him, and I’ll kill you. How did you get out of jail?” she repeated, her aim steady.
“I was released legally,” Marcus replied calmly.
“Bullshit,” Tate exploded as he strode toward Marcus and grasped him by the collar of his jacket. “They don’t release terrorists from prison. Try again.”
“Tate, you’re blocking me. Move,” Lara demanded, antsy because Tate was now in her sights.
Marcus shrugged off Tate’s hold. “Just listen to me. I am not a terrorist. I work for the CIA.” He flipped open a leather holder and held up an ID.
Tate ripped it from his hand and scrutinized it thoroughly. “It looks legit,” he told Lara hoarsely.
She moved forward and took it from his hand, recognizing the identification. If it was fake, he had a damn good forger. And what would be the point?
Marcus held out the phone he held in his other hand. “The number for the CIA is in my phone. Call the director. Verify the number and call through the central number, then ask for him. He’s expecting your call.”
Lara dropped his ID on the table, but kept her eyes on Marcus as Tate did exactly as Marcus instructed. He verified the number on his laptop before he called it. She heard Tate talking, but her attention was focused on his brother.
He looked different today, his eyes far from emotionless. Marcus looked tired, and his Colter gray eyes shone with sadness and remorse.
Good Lord…was it actually possible that Marcus was telling the truth? Please. Please. Let it be true. It would mean so much to Tate if Marcus was actually a good guy. But if he was, what the hell was he doing with all of those explosives?
Tate ended his conversation, clicked off the cell phone and handed it back to Marcus. “Put the gun away, Lara,” Tate told her flatly. “He’s telling the truth.”
What. The. Hell.
Lara holstered her gun, still confused. “How? Why?”
Marcus inclined his head to her. “Thank you for not shooting me.”
“Thank Tate. I wanted to shoot you,” she mumbled irritably. After the hell he’d put Tate through, she’d wanted to hurt Marcus. Bad.
Marcus chuckled. “I’m sure you did and probably still do.” He looked at Tate. “You’ve certainly found yourself a loyal woman.”
“She’s fucking amazing,” Tate corrected. “Are you planning on telling me what the hell is going on? Does everyone else know?” He motioned to the table.
They all sat down, and Lara found it surreal that she was actually looking across the table at a man who she’d thought was a terrorist only a short time ago.
Marcus started to talk. “Blake has known since he came to Washington and I could speak with him in person. I met with Zane in Denver before I got here, and I just came from a long discussion with Chloe and Mom.”
“So I’m the last to know,” Tate grumbled.
“I knew you were going to be the hardest one to tell,” Marcus said soberly. “I got you injured, Tate. And Lara was humiliated and hurt as well. I’m sorry.”
“It’s part of my job,” Lara answered quietly. “Can you explain how the FBI didn’t know about you?”
Marcus nodded. “Not very many people knew, and I’m not surprised that they put an FBI counter-terrorist team on this case. I expected it. My trail wasn’t exactly discreet and it wasn’t meant to be. But it was top secret, and we didn’t want any information leaked. The lowest-ranked person at the CIA who knew was the deputy director of NCS, and the director of the FBI was informed but not allowed to share the information.”
“What was your mission?” Tate asked gruffly.
Marcus grimaced. “It was actually something I got involved in inadvertently. This group was fairly sophisticated, and they had money. They were posing as legitimate and respected businessmen. I heard an exchange that I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to understand. It was being discussed in Arabic at a business function.”
“You speak a lot of languages,” Lara mused.
Marcus shrugged. “I deal with a lot of countries, and I have a knack for picking up languages.”
“So then what?” Tate prompted.
“I approached the CIA with the information.”
“How long have you been helping the CIA?”
“Awhile,” Marcus admitted reluctantly. “I travel and I pick up limited information to help them out. I’ve assisted with gathering information for them in the past, but nothing on quite the same scale as this particular operation. They asked me if I could possibly get close to these men, try to infiltrate the group somehow. It wasn’t easy. I’m American and they didn’t trust me. It took me two years to finally convince them that all I wanted was money, and that I didn’t care about their cause. They didn’t want me to. They just needed an American cover to buy the explosives so it didn’t rouse as much suspicion. Since we’re a prominent family, they decided to take the risk. The plan was to get all the explosives together and we’d do the final deal. I’d be given payment and they’d fly out their explosives. What you interrupted was the check of the final shipment before we made our transaction. Nothing was supposed to happen that day. The director was planning on getting together a special team, including the FBI, for the final bust. I wanted to make sure my family was gone, away from the area before anything happened.” Marcus paused for a moment before continuing, “I should have never used the airstrip, or Rocky Springs.”
“You didn’t have much of a choice. It’s a private airport. Where else could you have arranged this?” Lara said quietly, knowing he had the perfect bait for the terrorists because he did have a private airport and the Colters were a highly respected family.
“It endangered my family,” Marcus replied bleakly.
“Normally, it wouldn’t have,” Tate said honestly. “The airstrip is a safe distance away from our homes and the resort. Lara and I being there was accidental. I wanted to prove to her that you weren’t involved so she’d stop trying to attract your attention.”