“They should have, if that were the case, but that doesn’t mean he’d necessarily trust their assessment. If he’s betraying his country, he’s probably seeing knives coming at his back from every angle.”
“Why wouldn’t he try again?”
“I imagine the issue would be discussed with him,” he said drily. “But that’s all supposition. Until I know for certain they aren’t involved, I’m going on the assumption that the Kingsleys are in this up to their asses. In the meantime, we’ll start making preparations and taking precautions.”
“Such as?”
“Perimeter security. I like what’s already been done, but there can be more, and Axel can find the budget to pay for it. FLIR systems—that’s forward-looking infrared cameras, which will spot body heat—wireless transmitters, an escape route. I can get one put in fairly fast if you don’t mind tearing up a section of the floor. Beef up the windows. Of course, the best thing would be for you and Tricks to stay in town—”
“No,” she said fiercely, then immediately realized no way would she let Tricks stay in any danger zone. “Well, Tricks can stay with Daina. But if I’m not going about my routine, wouldn’t that be a heads-up to anyone watching?”
“Only if they’ve been watching long enough to know your routine.”
“I don’t care about the floor,” she said, ignoring his point because she wasn’t about to give ground on hers. “Tear it up. Start tomorrow.”
“We don’t have to move quite that fast. The clock won’t start ticking until I contact the Kingsleys, and I won’t do that until Axel doctors my file with the fake medical disability and finishes checking out his hack-hunter. You burned his ass with that one,” he said, grinning.
“And now I’ve caused a delay because he’s paranoid.”
“It isn’t paranoia if it’s real. The world he lives in, it’s real. I know he’s checked his guy out so thoroughly he probably knows the placement of every freckle, and I figure the guy’s clean, but Axel will take a hard look at him again.” He paused. “I suggest we bring Jesse into the loop. We may need his help, his and the rest of your officers. I want to do everything I can to minimize any danger to you and the town.”
She thought about that, running through things like scheduling and the budget—things that, as chief, she had to think about. “It would have to be on their own time. I don’t think their involvement could be on the town dime.”
“I don’t expect them to do it for free, and I’ll handle their pay.” He shrugged. “I’m always gone too much to spend my paycheck, so it accumulates.”
Privately Bo thought he might have to fight the men to get them to take money, given the way they were all but hero-worshipping him, but that was a problem for later.
Instinctively she knew that Morgan was slipping into his zone now, that he was going on the offensive instead of waiting for someone else to make a move. She could sense his focus sharpening, all but feel the electricity zinging through his veins. This was his world, a world of strategy and violence, and he was at home in it.
CHAPTER 25
INVITING KILLERS TO COME AFTER HIM MEANT MORGAN had to do some serious strategizing, not just for himself but for Bo and any of the Hamrickville officers who elected to help. He went for a run, needing the automatic physical activity that would free his mind to worry and pick at the situation like a wolf picking at a carcass. He put on his shorts and running shoes, told Bo how long he’d be gone, and set out over the hills, pushing himself to a dead run.
He was afraid Bo was going to be a problem. His instinct was to make sure she was far away from any potential harm, and he expected her to fight him every inch of the way. He respected that, up to a point—the point at which he turned hairy and started dragging his knuckles on the ground. The bottom line was that she was precious to him and he’d do anything and everything he could to keep her safe, no matter how much of a battle she put up.
One step at a time, though; if he’d learned anything from all his missions over the years, it was that events never played out the way they were originally anticipated.
That was worrisome because it meant that no matter how he strategized, he couldn’t cover everything. He had to play the odds and plan for the most likely avenue of attack while staying alert for something—anything—different.
This could go down several different ways. Yeah, it would be great if Homeland Security showed up and arrested him, because that truly would be the best outcome for both him and the country. He wanted Congresswoman Kingsley to be innocent, to be working for the country rather than against it. He liked her. She seemed warm and genuine. Big deal. He went with facts, not emotion.
At any rate, he didn’t have to make any preparations for Homeland Security—likely the FBI. He was good there.
The possibilities after that were trickier, and far more likely.
The bad guys might use the Russian mob again, but he’d bet against that for a couple of reasons. One, they’d already tapped that asset, and it hadn’t worked out well. Using them again established a pattern, one that pointed to Russia, which could lead to Yartsev. And while the Russian mob could blend in with a large metropolitan population, it was a different story in Hamrickville, West Virginia. A Russian would stand out like a hyena in a wolf den. Hell, someone from New York would stand out.
Which left the Kingsleys and Yartsev with two or three options: hire a home-grown hit man—which had a higher probability of success but meant bringing in a stranger who might or might not be reliable and who would represent another possible security risk—or involve the SVR, which had taken the place of the KGB.