“Do you think the blackmail and the murder are connected?” Luther asked.
“No idea.” Feeling like a caged animal, Dakota pushed out of the chair. “Someone knows what I’ve been doing and wants money to keep my secret. And that person, or a different one, wants to frame me for a murder I didn’t commit. If word of ALPHA gets out, it won’t matter how many alibis I have for Matt.”
“If the public finds out about ALPHA, no one at the Pentagon, the FBI, or the White House will acknowledge this agency exists.”
Dakota bit out a grunt. “Understood.”
“Run the blackmail demand by Stryker. See if he can help you out. And keep a low profile. The less the public sees of you, the better.”
Dakota strode out of the building feeling more frustrated than when he’d walked in. As he drove out, he glanced around. Anyone could be watching him from a parked car, from an office window. Someone could be flying a damn drone over his head and tracking his every fucking move.
He called Stryker. “Where are you?”
“Office, but I haven’t had any coffee and my morning is booked solid.”
“I’m being blackmailed for fifteen mil and the blackmailer included a photo of us on a mission.”
“Fuck.Fuck,”Stryker rasped. “I’ll clear my schedule.”
An hour later, Dakota strode into the Dulles building located in an area called “technology corridor”, and jumped inside the waiting elevator before the doors closed.
The woman glanced over, then did a double take. “Are you the married one or the single one?”
He pushed the top-floor button. “Excuse me?”
“I know everyone who’s anyone, but I don’t know you. You’re Dakota Luck or Sinclair Develin. One of you is married and one isn’t. Which one are you?”
His thoughts jumped to Providence. He almost blurted, “I’m not available.” Instead, he said, “Dakota Luck.”
“Then, it’s myluckyday.” She pulled out a business card and thrust it at him. “I could be in the market for a condo. I might be available for a drink after. Possibly dinner.” Her pale cheeks flushed with color.
You wouldn’t last one day with me. I’m dangerous, I’m wanted, and I’m an assassin.He smiled. “I’m flattered, but I have to pass.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Pass on me? I’m Stacy Blunk, B-L-U-N-K. Pronounced blanc, like the wine.” Again, she jabbed her card at him. “I’m an influencer. Aninfluencer!” The doors slid open.
Dakota didn’t take the card. On a huff, she exited the cab and spun toward him. “You’re a first-class jerk. And here I was willing to risk my life. For all I know, you killed that guy and dumped him in the—”
The elevator doors closed.I’ve gotta listen to Luther and keep a low profile until this mess blows over.
The upscale offices of Truman Cybersecurity were bustling with activity. Stryker’s company was the premiere cybersecurity company in the region. Their goal? Stop hackers from infiltrating computer systems and holding companies ransom. Stryker knew everything about hacking because he’d once been one helluva hacker himself.
“Stryker is expecting you,” said the receptionist.
Dakota strode past the cubicles that filled the expansive office space, then the executive team’s private offices. Stryker’s door was closed, so he knocked.
“Go away.”
Dakota opened the door.
“That never works,” Stryker said.
His desk was covered with a large computer display and four laptops.
“You’ve got a hoarding problem,” Dakota said as he eased into a chair at Stryker’s conference table.
Stryker flipped him off. “Coffee?”
“No.” Dakota pulled the envelope from his computer bag.