Burned (Vanessa Pierson series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

in charge of Team Viper.
Good job, Vanessa! Screw it up from the very beginning.
She shook off the momentary doubt. For his part, he should have identified himself immediately.
    “I’m sorry, but why aren’t we lead?” Vanessa asked, not entirely clear on the politics of it all. She always felt like bureaucracy got in the way.
    She glanced down to check the latest feeds on her laptop display—so far, no one claiming responsibility, no identity on the bomber. “This was our op,” she murmured.
    “I just answered that question,” the DDO said sharply. “I hope you do a better job of listening to their head of ops . . .”
    “Sorry to interrupt—” It was Chris, his face and torso wavering into focus on the second large monitor. He did look a bit rumpled, and his silver-framed glasses gave off a glint of light. “I’m waiting to fly out of Athens, should be in Paris by late this afternoon or early evening.”
    Vanessa exhaled, extremely grateful to see him—and almost instantly she could feel his dark eyes assessing, evaluating.
    “Have you both received medical treatment?” he asked.
    “We didn’t need it,” Jack answered. “But the French got a dosimeter reading on both of us, checking for exposure, and we’re clean.”
    “Good.” Chris nodded. Although his response was understated, his relief was evident. “I know it’s too soon to ask, but do we have any analysis yet on the RDD?”
    Out of camera range, Hays shook his head and Jack said, “Nothing yet, except that the danger of contamination is nil because the bomb failed to detonate.”
    Chris asked, “You have any idea what happened out there today?”
    Vanessa knew that was her question to answer. She set her laptop aside and stood; the only woman in the room, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down or be accused of being “too emotional.” She needed to exude confidence she didn’t feel. “We’re running images of the suicide bomber through facial-recognition software to see if we can ID him.” The image of the young bomber flashed in front of her eyes: the walk, the clothes, the look—almost but not quite Farid.
    “Whoever he was, he was not my asset.” She took a quick breath.
    Chris frowned. “We all know what that means: Your asset may be in the hands of whoever sent the suicide bomber.”
    For a moment no one spoke. Vanessa’s stomach lurched.
Again? Another asset?
    Swallowing hard, she said, “Farid’s always given me solid intel, it’s always been corroborated. He was meeting me today at great risk to himself. He works as a courier in Bhoot’s network—specifically, as part of the link from western Europe, through Dubai, to Tehran. Two years ago he ferried transactions between Bhoot and Dieter Schoeman, the South African proliferator who is currently serving fifteen years at London’s super-max, Belmarsh.”
    She shifted weight from foot to foot restlessly. “He was going to give me something to substantiate what our analysts have been piecing together—that Bhoot had a miniaturized nuclear prototype smuggled out of his secret facility in Iran just weeks before the bombing.”
    The DDO spoke up sharply: “So we have no idea what kind of damage this nuclear prototype is capable of?”
    “No,” Vanessa said. “Except Farid was willing to risk his life to get me the intel. And now I need to—we need to do everything we can to find him and to find out who’s behind this and exactly what we’re dealing with.”
    “Do we know why Bhoot smuggled a weapon out of a facility thathe’d funded in cooperation with the Iranians?” The DDO’s frustration turned his voice raw.
    It was Chris who responded first: “Was he double-crossing the Iranians, or did they move the weapon because they had a buyer?” He shrugged. “We don’t know the answers to those questions, but Vanessa has been lead on tracking them down.” His eyes met hers now and he said, “Obviously, Vanessa, much has happened, but it’s clear we