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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Karin rode shotgun, watching Dino as he carefully weaved their Dodge Ram along the meandering snakes that made up Los Angeles’ highways and byways.

“Keep it steady,” she said as the young soldier overtook a red roadster. “You do remember we’re being hunted?”

Dino grinned over at her with immature glee. “Just happy to be outta the house, Mom. Any case, you gotta know I’m better than you. Better in every way.”

“So you keep saying.”

“The Army won’t let us go,” Wu said. “Every time we surface, we’re vulnerable.”

“Tone it down, Mr. Misery. Jeez, you two could be a double act.”

“We’ll see how happy you are when they have your nuts connected to a car battery.”

“Don’t be an ass, Wu. It’s the Army, not the CIA.”

Karin enjoyed the constant, rolling views to both sides of the car; Los Angeles sprawling in all its glory. A moment to relax and think about precisely nothing. Thick greenery and concrete behemoths fought for precedence, and beyond those the metal high-rises that sparkled underneath the blazing sun. A light smog hovered around cloud level, dimming the day, but it was barely noticeable. People came and went, barely visible along the sidewalks and shopping malls, zipping this way and that in their cars. The Hollywood Hills passed by slowly to the right, unnoticed because at that point Dino spotted a black-and-white cruiser easing its way along the fast lane and pulled in like the good boy he was, eyes on the road, focus dead ahead.

If you didn’t look at them they wouldn’t notice you.

Eventually the coast road opened up and they were on their way to San Francisco.

“Beats the desert.” Wu studied the glittering, rolling waves.

Karin reviewed the task ahead. Their time inside the HQ had been well spent. First, they had set up the computers, two top-of-the-line Macs with as many special toys as they could afford. The fiber cable was the hardest part, but once they’d sorted that and Karin installed a bevy of firewalls, they were ready to go. Even then, even with Karin at the keyboard and using her genius intellect, they did not have the capabilities for mad hacking. They were limited, forced to use ingenuity.

Karin was aware of Tyler Webb’s innumerable secret bank accounts. She’d monitored them when working for SPEAR. She was aware of what some called his legacy; the small amount of secrets he had on her old team. And she was aware of the immense secret stash; something the world’s most wealthy, avid stalker had amassed against hundreds of individuals, again including members of her old team.

Most thought, since Webb was dead, they could locate it at their leisure.

Trouble was, Karin had no such thoughts. Access to the secret stash would give her incalculable power — and at the end of everything power was where it was all at. The three of them could move forward from there; gaining money, anonymity, security and influence. Of course, if there were hundreds seeking Webb’s stash it might prove particularly hard to steal.

Right now, nobody knew where it was.

Except Karin Blake.

Or so she thought. The next few hours would tell. Insider knowledge had been most helpful. She knew all about Nicholas Bell, and how the whistleblower had been sitting inside a jail cell telling all — names, places, identities, the entire rotten shebang. She knew how Lauren Fox liked to visit. She knew the people that listened and talked to Lauren Fox.

Well, she knew them, they didn’t necessarily know her.

Maybe a little late to the party — Karin’s army training and subsequent departure had taken a while — but she made up for that with a little top-flight hacking flair. Bell’s conversations were monitored. Smyth, it seemed, had the juice to regularly receive a copy of those conversations—naughty boy—and treat them as he wished. Who knew what the irascible, easy-to-anger soldier did with them? Protected national security, obviously.

The point was, Karin could hack the line that went directly to Smyth’s network. For her, it was a relatively easy job. She took the time to glean the rich pickings. Tyler Webb had once owned countless offices, houses, penthouses, and even an island, around the world. Place names that resonated with her included Washington DC, Niagara and Monte Carlo. Bell had talked to Lauren, but he’d also talked to guards and lawyers, and Smyth’s recordings included snippets from all of them.

Smyth does not have the brightest future, she thought.

However you spun it, the Peru incident — or incidents — had placed the SPEAR team in a world of hurt.

Karin shifted her position as a sign flashed by, stating they were 130 miles away from San Francisco. Bell had become quite vocal with Lauren — stating facts again and again that might be right, naming names, places, bank accounts. At this point Karin didn’t dare tap any of the accounts for fear the authorities might be quietly monitoring them to see who popped up. They needed a foolproof action and escape plan in place first.

Hence the trip to San Francisco.

When pressed, Bell revealed how Webb used to occasionally boast about what he knew. The man had been a ritual stalker, a wealthy shadow with the resources to expose and hurt and own just about anyone in the world if he wanted to. Webb had always offered tidbits to Bell, stringing him along, but had hinted at what he called the mother lode.

This ‘mother lode’ had turned out to be a specific office where the deranged megalomaniac kept all the dirt he’d ever collected on anyone. Of course, he’d never told Bell where it was.

Karin considered it all though. She had the exclusive benefit of being able to view it all from the inside. And she remembered moments when Webb had stolen information from and made clandestine visits to most of the team. Her eidetic memory came into its own right there. Of course, it wasn’t easy, but Karin knew Webb had worked out of a known office in DC back then and had managed to backtrack on the communications that were now a matter of record.

Large files were sent to a particular address in San Francisco on half a dozen occasions. Further investigations showed other large files being received from other known offices. So whilst the authorities trawled and crawled through a thick sludge of data, Karin was able to pinpoint exactly what she needed.

Dino guided them through the traffic, over the Golden Gate and past Fisherman’s Wharf. Tourists thronged the area, cameras at the ready, stepping out into the road without much care for themselves. Dino blended in with the traffic, giving the cops no reason to notice them. A steep hill brought them further into the city and soon they were circling Union Square, passing by banks and pharmacies, ships and restaurants in the hardest quest yet — to find a good parking spot.

“Just leave it here.” Wu waved at a small space near a Walgreens. “The address is a five-minute walk away.”

“Five minutes?” Karin said. “Could be an age if Webb left any contingencies.”

“Plus,” Dino said as he inched closer to their destination, “this is a Dodge Ram. I’d be hard pressed to park my ass in that spot.”

“Want me to do it? I can drive.”

“Oh really? Well, sure, Toretto. Let’s see how you handle—”

“Kids,” Karin breathed. “Shut the fuck up. See over there?”

“We need good access for a fast getaway. We need quick access. We need…” Dino paused. “Shit, we’re gonna need a long-stay garage ain’t we?”

Karin nodded. “Right there. If we have to we go to ground for a while; we can always drive out of here another day when the dust settles.”