He thought about her question. "I'm sure of some things. I'm sure that our mission was to find Qadir's hideout and call for a drone strike. I'm sure that Nicole and Brian are dead. And I'm absolutely sure that Qadir has never been an asset. Do I know all the details? I don't. But in my gut, in my heart, and in my head, I am certain that Ali Qadir is responsible for the death of my friends and for the deaths of many other people. You can believe me or not. You wouldn't be the only one to doubt my story."

  "I believe you," she said, easing his heart. But the puzzlement in her gaze didn't completely reassure him.

  "But?" he challenged.

  "You were saying a lot of things last night, and one of them was about killing Qadir. You quit the agency, but you still want to take down Qadir, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  She sucked in a breath of surprise. "I didn't think you were going to admit it."

  "The agency was going to send me to Latin America. They didn't want me anywhere near Qadir's territory, so I quit. I hunted him on my own for six months, but I ran out of money and resources. I went back to the UK to visit my father, to take a moment to regroup and consider my options. That's when I ran into Dominic. We had dinner. Dominic told me it was fortuitous that he'd run into me, that he needed a security consultant for his upcoming trips and projects in dangerous areas in the Middle East. It was perfect. I could take the job, make a lot of cash, and have an opportunity to go back into an area where I thought Qadir might be hiding, and I would be under the cover of private security."

  Kara sat up in bed, pushing her hair behind her ears. "So, taking the job with Dominic was just a way for you to get back to your mission? Or should I call it an obsession?"

  "Call it whatever you want," he returned, seeing the sharp gleam in her eyes.

  "You want revenge. You don't want to capture him; you want to kill him."

  "I tried to bring him in before. I tried to do it the right way, Kara."

  "Revenge isn't justice."

  "It's the next best thing," he said, seeing disappointment run through her eyes. He wasn't surprised. She wasn't a person who would seek vengeance over justice. She still had ideals. "I'm sure you don't agree."

  "I don't. I believe in justice, in punishment, in putting people away, not killing them."

  "Sometimes, that's the only choice that allows good to triumph over evil. If there was another way, I would take it."

  "There is another way. Your agency knows he can't be trusted now. If he's captured again, he won't be turned into an asset. He'll go to prison. He'll pay for his crimes, for what he did to you, to your friends, to everyone."

  "I'm not sure anyone will ever catch him, and if they do, I don't believe he'd allow himself to be taken alive."

  "Well, that would be his choice, not yours."

  As their gazes clung together, he saw a myriad of emotions run through her beautiful brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "For what?"

  "Not being who you want me to be."

  Her breath caught in her throat. "I don't know who I want you to be."

  "Yes, you do. And I don't blame you. I was once like you. I believed in my power to change the world in a way that was honorable."

  "I don't blame you for wanting Qadir dead. But there's time to make a different choice, Max. You just have to want to make that choice."

  "Well, I may never get close enough to him to capture him or kill him. He's been very elusive so far."

  Her expression suddenly shifted. "When you told me about Caleb being Malik Azrani's brother, and Malik being one of Qadir's top guys, you didn't tie that all together for me. You didn't say Qadir was the terrorist turned asset. Why not?"

  He shrugged. "I was still trying to figure it out. My contact said the Azrani brothers have been estranged for years. Malik was raised by his father in the Middle East. Caleb was raised by his mother in the US. It's possible Caleb is not tied to Qadir."

  "It's possible he is," she argued.

  "I was going to talk to you about it yesterday, but then everything went to hell."

  "You got a strange look on your face when we were talking to Dominic about the tower fire and the revenge plot, and he said he couldn't believe the bombs were about that. You were thinking the explosions are about Qadir."

  "Qadir has power in Tajikistan. He's a threat to Dominic's project and to Dominic's safety. Malik Azrani works closely with him, and if Caleb is tied to the explosions here, then it all seems to connect," he admitted. "But it also doesn't."

  Kara thought for a moment. "You're right. It's confusing because it doesn't add up, not the victims, not the methods…nothing except that we have two Azrani brothers and a tie to Qadir and an established terrorist network."

  "Caleb may have his own game going here in the US, and someone reached out to him to buy bombs and revenge that had nothing to do with Tajikistan. And the link to Qadir could be a stretch." He paused and then painfully shifted into a sitting position, his head spinning a little with the movement. "We should get out of here. There's too much to do. We can't hide out. We have to get in the fight."

  "I'm not sure you're ready for that fight."

  "I will be. I feel better now. And you said I have antibiotics and pain pills, so I'm good to go." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and then slowly stood up. "What happened to my shirt? My jacket?"

  "Your shirt was cut to shreds and covered in blood. Your jacket is also pretty bloody and has a hole in it."

  "It will do." He picked up his jacket from the bed where she'd put it. "The blood is dry," he added as he eased the jacket over his painful shoulder. "Where's my phone?"

  She got out of bed, walked to the dresser, and got his phone. He turned it on to check his messages and was shocked to see a photo from Reza sent sometime last night. As he studied the image, he felt his world spin once more, but this time it wasn't from a loss of blood.

  "What's wrong?" Kara asked, moving toward him.

  "Qadir is in New York." He turned the phone around so she could see the photo.

  "Oh my God! This is time-stamped yesterday."

  "This is about him," he said, meeting her gaze. "We need to get back to the city, and then you need to get as far away from me as you can. This isn't just about Dominic or any of the others anymore. It's also about me"

  "How does that make sense?" she asked in confusion.

  "Qadir is a complex thinker. It's one of his gifts. Others go linear. He never sees opportunities in a straight line. Maybe this didn't start out to be about me or about New York. But whatever is happening has drawn his interest, and if there's one thing I can guarantee, however big and bad we think it's going to be, it will be worse."

  Chapter Nineteen

  The drive back to Manhattan felt endless. Max sat in the passenger seat, his left shoulder a constant throb of pain. He hadn't taken the medication Hayden had left for him because he needed his head to be clear. But he had to admit that the pain was dulling his senses a little, too. But he'd get through it because he had to. Qadir was in New York.

  The realization went around and around in his head. He couldn't quite believe it. Getting into this country would have been an incredible challenge, but somehow, he'd done it. Qadir was here. And he had a plan.

  What that plan could be gave him a headache to match the pain in his shoulder. And as he shifted position, another thought entered his mind.

  "Dominic," he muttered.

  "What?" Kara asked.

  He turned his head to meet her questioning gaze. "I'd like to know who he was meeting with yesterday."

  Her eyebrow raised. "Are you suggesting it was Qadir?"

  "Not him specifically. But maybe someone in the circle, someone Qadir has bought, someone with influence here and also in the region where Dominic wants to build."

  "That could be many different people," she said.

  As the car ran over a pothole, his seat bounced, sending a jolt of pain through his body.

  "Sorry," Kara said quickly. "How are you doing? Are you sure you don't want to take something?"

  "I'm fine."

  "You're not fine. You're very pale, and I can see the pain in your eyes."

  "Well, I don't have time to not be okay," he said with a shrug. "Don't worry. I'll get through this. I've been shot worse before."

  "Yeah, I've seen a few of those scars," she murmured.

  "They make me sexier, right?" he asked, trying to joke his way through the tension coming not only from his pain but also from their earlier conversation.

  Kara hadn't said much since they'd left the house, her hands steady on the wheel, but her jaw was tight. The easy intimacy they'd shared just two days ago felt like it belonged to different people. Now there were walls between them again, built from secrets and moral differences that might be impossible to bridge.

  "It's not funny," she said a moment later. "You could have been killed yesterday."

  "So could you. We both live lives of danger, Kara. That doesn't make us stop doing our jobs."

  "I know, but this felt…different." She let that thought linger, then gave him a quick look and said, "You pushed me out of the way. You saved me from being shot."

  "And you saved me afterwards. We're even."

  "I guess."

  "Let's focus on the case. I want to go back to my place. I need some clothes."

  She nodded. "Good idea. But I'm not sure your place is safe, or mine, for that matter. I didn't expect us to be targeted on our own. We've had some close calls, but that was because we were with someone else. But Dominic was long gone by the time we got to the lake. There was no one there but us."

  "We're getting too close," he said. "That's a good thing. It means they're not feeling totally in control. And worried people try to move faster, which sometimes leads to mistakes."

  "Do you think Qadir made a mistake when he walked in front of a security camera?" she asked.

  He heard the doubt in her voice and understood where it was coming from. "I don't know," he admitted. "He could have wanted to make himself a distraction, but that would be incredibly risky and very dangerous. It's not just me who wants to get to him; his escape and defection are an embarrassment to the entire agency. And there are other agencies that have also been affected by his many crimes. Putting a target on himself makes little sense to me."

  "I'm still leaning toward the idea that he wanted you to see him. Your history with him is intense."

  She didn't even know the half of it. "That's true. But understanding why he's here isn't as important as finding him."

  "I need to get my team involved," she said. "Probably 26 Fed, too. And you need to talk to the agency. Maybe also Dominic. Make him tell you who he was with at the lodge."

  "Getting additional people involved doesn't always make things easier. There are more layers of bureaucracy, more chances that someone is a mole, that information will be leaked."

  "That's a chance we have to take. Qadir is one of the most wanted terrorists in the world, and he's in New York City."

  "Well, my former agency is already involved. That photo came from someone still working for the CIA."

  "Then the FBI needs to catch up fast," she said decisively. "I'll drop you off at your apartment. Then I'll catch a cab and go to the office. It's Sunday, but I'm sure I can get some people in based on this information."

  "Why don't I go with you to the office?" he suggested. "After I change clothes, of course. I'd like to talk to Tyler. He was in Syria when my friends were killed. He was hunting Qadir, too. We need to compare notes."

  "Now, you want to be friends with Tyler? You spent the past week telling me not to trust him."

  "I'm not saying I'm going to trust him. But we need to find out what he knows and what side he's on."

  Fifteen minutes later, Kara parked by Max's building, and they carefully walked down the block, both on high alert. Since she'd found Max's address with little trouble, she was concerned that someone else had as well. He hadn't been living a covert life recently. "I think you should pack a bag," she said as they entered the building. "You're a target now. You can't stay here."

  "I agree," he said as he led the way up the stairs and unlocked his door.

  She pulled her weapon, exchanging a silent look with him before he pushed the door open. She entered first, prepared to shoot, but there was no one inside the small apartment. She checked the bedroom as Max closed the door.

  "It's clear," she said.

  "I'm going to change and throw some clothes in a bag."

  She nodded, putting her weapon away. While he was changing, she wandered around the living room, her gaze narrowing as she moved over to his desk. It wasn't the two computers and multiple monitors that surprised her; it was the map on the wall, marked with red pins and tags showing Qadir's known locations over the past two years. There were also photos under the map with men in robes and head wraps, sometimes in fatigues, sometimes in business clothes. Most were of Qadir, revealing how often he changed his look from dark hair to blonde hair to bald with a beard. There were a few other men in the photographs, too; some younger, some older.

  Glancing down at the desktop, she saw intelligence reports, clippings of articles about bombings and terrorist attacks all over the world. He had an entire notebook filled with pattern analyses and predictions.

  It was the work of a smart and thorough agent. It was also the work of someone obsessed. Someone who'd let a single mission consume his entire life.

  When he emerged from the bedroom in a clean shirt and jacket, an overnight bag slung over his good shoulder, she turned to face him. His gaze moved from her to the desk, and then he shrugged. "I've been tracking him for a long time."

  "I can see that."

  "We should go."

  "One second." She drew a breath and let it out, not really sure what she wanted to say. She'd never lost a partner in the field, but she had lost friends, people who were trying to do good, people who shouldn't have died. "I understand why you need to catch Qadir."

  "Great. Then we don't have a problem." He paused. "Or do we?"

  She took a moment to find the right words. "I just want you to think about how all this started: a bomb in a café, a federal prosecutor tied to the Meridien Tower fire, a building inspector with the same connection. Small, targeted explosives not designed to kill a high number of people, small-time players like Jonas Cray hired to spill coffee, a Building Department admin paid to get someone into an electrical closet, a strip club owner and a gym manager tied to poker games, money laundering, maybe drugs…"

  His jaw tightened. "I don't need a recap."

  "I disagree. There is nothing about the two prior explosions that suggests the work of Qadir. You said that yourself."

  "Caleb Azrani's brother, Malik Azrani, works for Qadir. That suggests a connection."

  "But the brothers were estranged. They grew up in different parts of the world. I just don't want us to get lost in this obsession." She waved her hand toward the wall. "And not see what else might be occurring. Maybe Qadir is now involved, but I don't think it started with him."

  "You're going back to the victim's families, to Hartford and Faulkner."

  "Yes. We have today and tomorrow to figure out what's happening before that summit takes place, and while I want to run as fast as you do toward the idea of capturing Qadir, I want to make sure we're not running in the wrong direction for this case. I think I should go to my office, and you should go to your CIA friends, and then we should compare notes."

  "The last thing we should do is split up. I have your back, Kara, and I know you have mine. We don't know about anyone else. I don't need a meeting with my contact right now. In fact, it's probably better that we communicate using a protocol that we've already set up. Let's go to your office, and we'll discuss everything and everyone, not just Qadir."

  She wondered if he could really put his energy and thought anywhere else, but she'd made her point, so she'd just have to see. Taking out her phone, she texted her team saying that one of the world's most wanted terrorists was now in New York City, and they needed to meet.

  Max had been in a lot of briefing rooms over the years—CIA buildings, military command centers, embassy conference rooms, where the air was thick with tension and the stakes were always life or death. But he'd never been in one where he was the outsider, the civilian consultant whose presence was barely tolerated.

  Kara's team had assembled quickly for a Sunday afternoon. The field office was mostly empty except for the essential personnel Jason had called in: Agent Tyler Brennan, who sat across the table studying him with undisguised suspicion; Agent Alina Vokov, a sharp-eyed, beautiful blonde; and Wes Paulson, a tech specialist.

  Jason Colter, the head of the unit, stood at the head of the conference table, his expression determined as he asked Kara to brief them on the situation.

  Kara stood, her voice clear and authoritative as she laid out the situation: the connection between the local bombings, Caleb Azrani and Qadir's organization, ending with the photo that confirmed Qadir's presence in the city.

  "The important thing to remember," she said, "is that this investigation started with specific, targeted attacks against people connected to the Meridien Tower fire seven years ago. Samantha Barkley and James Cooper both had roles in the aftermath of that disaster. We can't lose sight of that pattern just because a bigger fish has entered the water. To catch him, we need to pick up some of the smaller fish first. Unfortunately, some of those fish are dying before we can get to them. Elias Costa was apparently killed in a car crash last night in Maine."

  "I'll look into that," Wes said.

  "Thanks. The infrastructure summit is on Tuesday. If Qadir is planning something spectacular, that's the most likely target. Which gives us approximately thirty-six hours to find him."

  Tyler spoke up. "What about the Azrani brothers? Any leads on their current location?"

  "Malik was spotted in Berlin three days ago, but that could be a misdirection." Kara looked around the table. "Caleb is in the wind."