Triple Terror Page 5

  Carrie scrunched her face, ‘But don’t you have to qualify and all that?’

  Nina pressed her lips together and gave a conspiratorial nod.

  Carrie smacked Nina on the arm, ‘How many secrets have you been keeping from us?’

  Nina held her arm and rubbed. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure I’d get through!’

  Lizzie said, ‘Of course you were going to get through!’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us after you did?’

  ‘I didn’t want you worrying about me … and last night, I didn’t want to impede on Lizzie’s thunder.’

  Lizzie replied, ‘You wouldn’t have. But is there anything else you’ve been hiding, because I get the feeling there is?’

  Nina sighed and gave a nod, ‘Training is going to take up most of my spare time, and then there’s the time I’ll be in China—’

  ‘Awesome, I forgot they’re in China this year! You must be so excited?’

  ‘I am.’ With both her sisters giving her excited stares, Nina continued, ‘I was worried about Gabe’s case.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. Carrie and I can work on it while you’re training and away.’

  ‘Actually …’

  Carrie exhaled, ‘Oh, great. What?’

  Nina bit her lip and glanced at each of them, ‘There’s another case.’

  Lizzie rubbed her temples. ‘Nina, I’m not in the right frame of mind for you to be talking in riddles this morning.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m not meaning to.’ She drew in a breath. ‘I was called in to take a place on the team as an undercover agent because there’s been a terrorist threat.’

  Carrie rolled her eyes, ‘Of course there has.’

  ‘What’s this got to do with us?’

  ‘The detective superintendent in charge of the operation has asked me if you’ll both be able to help me with the case from here. Help me out with profiles and any forensic data that comes up.’

  ‘But it’s not a cold case.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And our experience is solely in the post-crime field. We’ve never worked to solve a crime before it’s been committed.’

  ‘I told the AFP all of this.’

  ‘So why us?’

  ‘Because it won’t look suspicious if I go in undercover as a competitor, nor will you two working on a case appear odd. I am the only officer with even a minute ability to pull this off. You two as well.’

  Lizzie relented, ‘Mm. I can see that.’

  ‘So, what you’re saying is, we’ll all be undercover … right in the open!’ Carrie grinned, ‘That’s genius. I’m in.’

  ‘I hoped you’d say that …’ Nina turned and spied uncertainty in Lizzie’s expression. She would be struggling with loyalty between her fiancé and her sister. ‘It’s okay if you can’t do this and you need to focus on Gabe’s case right now. I understand.’

  Lizzie shook her head, ‘Of course I’m going to help you. Sisters first. Always.’

  Nina smiled at the use of the motto they’d used since the arrest of their mother’s best friend. The unexpected betrayal had caught them off guard and shown them they could only rely on each other. ‘Thank you. Both of you.’ She drew them in for a hug.

  When she pulled away, Lizzie asked, ‘What are you going to do about Andrei?’

  ‘I’m not going to be able to avoid him forever. We’re in the same team.’

  Carrie growled, ‘I don’t see why you have to have anything to do with him. He’s not to be trusted.’

  Nina heard something in the way Carrie said the last part and knew Lizzie had too when she reached over and gave Carrie’s hand a pat, ‘One day, you are going to meet someone who wipes away that pessimism.’

  Carrie grunted, ‘Don’t count on it.’

  ‘Oh, I do. Not all men are like Rake.’

  Carrie had been with her former fiancé for three years … when the jerk had cheated with, and left her for, the woman next door. Their little sister had always had a natural pessimism to her personality, but that debacle had cemented the attitude. She’d refused to commit to anything but casual flings from that moment onward.

  ‘I’ll believe that when I experience it.’

  ‘You will. Before the year is out I’ll wager.’

  Carrie rolled her eyes, ‘Here we go again.’

  Nina grinned at Lizzie’s inclination toward romantic idealism and Carrie’s self-proclaimed ‘realistic pessimism’. She had a feeling she’d need both in China … as well as dealing with Andrei Strasinski in the meantime.

  Lizzie chuckled, ‘All right, I’ll stop.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Lizzie smiled and turned to Nina as she asked, ‘Are there any more surprises?’

  Nina nodded. ‘That’s everything. Now, who’s up for brunch?’

  Carrie chirped, ‘I’m in.’

  Lizzie groaned and held a hand to her stomach, ‘As long as it’s not eggs … or something greasy … or anything with sugar in it.’

  Nina grinned. Lizzie’s hangover from the night before was obviously lingering. ‘Coffee it is.’

  ‘That could work. As long as it’s not one of those posh coffee bars you like to drag us to. Can we go to—’

  Knowing what Lizzie was going to say, she cut in, ‘Café Au Lait. Of course. Though strong, posh coffee is the perfect cure for a hangover.’

  Lizzie groaned, making Nina and Carrie chuckle.

  The quaint coffee shop on Cairns esplanade was Lizzie’s favourite and had been the location of Gabe and Lizzie’s unofficial first meeting.

  As they grabbed their bags, Lizzie suddenly gasped. ‘What am I going to tell Gabe? I’m guessing I can’t say anything about the operation?’

  Nina wrapped an arm around her middle sister’s shoulders, ‘Let’s get some coffee into you first. Then we can figure out the rest.’

  * * *

  Andrei yawned and closed the encrypted map of Australia he’d loaded onto his tablet before flying out. He’d scoured the map repeatedly for months, trying to discover every possible smuggling route. He couldn’t concentrate on his mission when he was this tired. The encounter with Nina had plagued him all night. That, and the apology he needed to make.

  It was at times like these he wished he had a brother or sister, or even a best friend, to talk to and get advice from. His job didn’t encourage social connections and ties. Which is precisely why he’d been the perfect candidate. He’d had nobody then and he had nobody now.

  He’d envied that about Nina. Having sisters she was close to. Sisters who loved her ferociously. Carrie’s actions last night had reiterated that.

  The alarm buzzed on his phone, distracting him from the thoughts.

  He reached over and shut it off. Time to get ready for some training. Even though it wasn’t an official training day—the whole team was given Sunday’s off—living at The Snow Globe afforded him the opportunity to use the facilities at his leisure. It was the best day of the week because it was the least crowded and Marcel wasn’t there to bark at him.

  He stripped out of his pyjama pants and into his ski suit. Maybe a few rounds on the slope would clear his head and give him more insight into this apology business.

  Just as he’d zipped up his snowsuit, his mobile rang.

  Picking it up, he saw it was a private number. Which meant it was someone from the FSB calling. He frowned. He wasn’t supposed to be checking in with them yet.

  He answered, ‘This is Strasinski.’

  After going through the requisite security checks, the person who had called—a woman; not his mission leader—said, ‘There has been a new development.’

  His chest fluttered with nerves. This was one of the things he hated most about his job. The changes and adapting he was expected to do at a moment’s notice.

  Calming himself, he asked, ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Terrorists have made a bomb threat against the Western competitors at the upcoming Olympics. That includes you, which involves us.�
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  A cold mixture of panic and resentment tightened his chest. Was he about to be pulled out of the Olympics? Why had he been naïve enough to believe he would be allowed to fulfil his dream of winning another medal? The FSB never cared about what he wanted. It only mattered what the mission needed.

  Resigned, he asked, ‘What do you want me to do?’

  Even as he said the words, part of him whispered, please don’t pull me out.

  ‘Our sources have led us to believe it is one of the competitors making the threat. Investigate, see what you can come up with.’

  He frowned. A competitor was making a terrorist threat, which meant he likely knew the person.

  Ignoring that realisation, he said, ‘Any idea who I should focus on?’

  ‘Our intel at this stage suggests a Western competitor. We’ll be sending you through a list in the next hour, as well as all the available dossiers we’ve been able to compile on each of them. Have a look through, narrow it down, send us back your top suspects before the Olympics start.’

  He felt a lump form in his throat as he asked the question he really didn’t want to, but had to, ‘What do you want me to do once I’m at the Olympics?’

  Don’t pull me out.

  He held his breath as he waited for the answer.

  ‘Stay under the radar and follow orders.’

  He had to mask the excitement from his voice when he replied, ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Don’t let this sidetrack you too much. You still have your other mission to complete.’

  The illegal weapon smuggling.

  ‘I know, ma’am. I’m close.’

  ‘We expect a report of any developments for both missions as soon as possible. Please acknowledge when you’ve received the list of competitors.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  He relaxed as he ended the call.

  Sure, his life had just become more difficult—working on two missions at the same time wasn’t easy, or fun, but it was something he’d done before—and the main thing was he was allowed to stay and compete!

  Reality dawned, stopping him from celebrating too much. The situation with his job was that things could change from hour to hour. One thing he knew for sure was if he didn’t figure out who was smuggling the weapons, or if he didn’t narrow down his yet-to-be received list to a more manageable number, the FSB could pull him off the case.

  Which meant three definite things: no Olympics, no chance at another medal, no pride at being the first person to win for both Australia and Russia in the winter games.

  Determination fired in his belly. He would solve these cases and get to the Olympics, even if he had to take out every person who stood in his way.

  He scrolled through his memory—informants never appreciated you putting their phone number into your contacts list—then punched in a number. Time to see what he could find out about the terrorist and the weapons.

  Chapter 7

  On the way to the coffee shop, she’d discussed the basic details of the case with her sisters. Lizzie had agreed to start work on a profile of the likely terrorist. Carrie had offered to contact a forensic scientist who’d helped them on previous cases. Kerry Caine was a specialist in fire and explosives investigation with an impressive work history. She could help narrow down the most likely bombs used, and even the possible locations. If they knew that information, they could arrange extra surveillance at the locations and put alerts out for people buying specific bomb-making materials.

  At the café, they’d all ordered a coffee and croissant—except Lizzie who’d still been feeling seedy.

  Even though she would have preferred to go for a stroll along the beach with Carrie while Lizzie went to tell Gabe their plans for working on his case had been superseded by ‘a more pressing case’ after their Sunday brunch, Nina trudged her way into the station instead. She needed to print out the email the detective superintendent had sent her, so she could get started on narrowing down the suspect list.

  Besides, it was either focus her mind on work or let a certain Russian do it. The terror plot was a good distraction. There would be literally hundreds of suspects to investigate. A good challenge.

  As she made her way to her cubicle, she went over the information she’d been given already.

  The AFP had insisted the terrorist was a competitor. She and her sisters had to narrow down the list to the top ten most likely suspects before the opening ceremony. The three of them would be expected to get close to the candidates and keep them under surveillance until someone definite was nailed down. Then the AFP would take over. Simple.

  She frowned, knowing operations never were. Especially one with so many known and unknown international police forces, and who knew what else, involved.

  From what she’d been told, the Chinese Secret Service had discovered the plot. They’d shared the information with the International Olympic Committee. The IOC had been given permission to pass it on with one condition attached: the Chinese Secret Service would remain the primary investigators. Any perceived attempt at undermining their position would be dealt with by the immediate expulsion of athletes from the offending country.

  That was why she was going in undercover. Obvious police presence would put the Chinese on their guard. Competitors would be treated with the same suspicion, but they would have an easier time accessing other athletes. They could be subtly questioned and surveyed, without the necessity of having to seek official permission first.

  It was a sneaky move, she knew it, and one that was morally ambiguous, but it had been agreed that it would be the best way to keep Australian competitors safe. They probably weren’t the only country using the tactic. Chinese officials would be smart enough to realise it. They would let it go, so long as no obvious interference occurred. It would be easier to work on the case if she wasn’t a target.

  That’s why she had to make her entrance into the games even more convincing. She wrinkled her nose as she pulled out her office chair and sat down. The computer on her desk was off. With a shake of the mouse, it flicked on. She clicked on her email folder. The email from the AFP was there. She opened it and downloaded the attached file.

  As the printer behind her whirred to life, she caught sight of her boss, Jack Priestley, approaching.

  The balding man frowned as he stopped. ‘You’re not supposed to be in today.’

  ‘I came to start on the AFP case.’

  He nodded, ‘Ah, good, good … what about Elizabeth and Carrie?’

  ‘They’re in.’

  ‘Excellent. I’ll call the detective superintendent and tell him that Operation Triple Terror is in full swing.’

  Operation Triple Terror.

  She cringed. No doubt the creator of the code name had thought it was hilarious. But it was so clichéd, and slightly offensive. Had a teenage intern come up with it? She knew from experience it had probably been someone who should have known better.

  She shook her head. ‘We’re not calling it that.’

  ‘Crikey, Farris. It’s just a flippin’ code name.’

  ‘Change it, or I change my mind. I guarantee my sisters won’t be far behind me.’

  ‘Far—’

  ‘No. I refuse to allow myself and my sisters to be used for other people’s amusement.’

  Would people ever stop treating them like a freak show novelty? Could they even see they were doing it?

  She levelled a look at him that she knew would have killed if she’d had the ability to shoot laser beams from her eyeballs.

  He raised his palms in surrender, ‘Fine, fine. It’s done.’

  ‘Make sure it is.’

  ‘I will.’

  He flashed her a confounded look then turned and left her alone.

  As she rose to retrieve the papers from the printer, she thought if only all my problems with men were that easy to solve.

  Pushing that thought away, she collected the papers and stuffed them into her large handbag. Instead of leaving the office, sh
e turned towards the door labelled ‘Firearms Training’. If she wanted to get away with her charade, her shooting accuracy would need to be just as convincing as her skiing.

  * * *

  The skiing and shooting practice hadn’t helped. If anything, the lack of sleep had caught up to him. Andrei groaned as he lay down on his bed. His vision was fuzzy from the insomnia, so he closed his eyes to get some much-needed rest.

  Instead, his brain filled with a recollection from the night before. When his and Nina’s eyes had locked, and he’d detected the real meaning behind her reaction. Not anger as he’d always assumed, though that was definitely there, but hurt.

  His lack of apology had to sting just as much as what he’d done.

  Though he’d spent his walk from the club going over the ways to apologise, he still hadn’t come to an exact decision about what to say.

  A gurgle of nausea weaved through his belly. He held a hand to it and frowned. It wasn’t nerves that had caused it. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t remember.

  That’s not good.

  He needed to keep his strength up if he was going to be able to fulfil his duty here.

  But first, sleep.

  He felt himself starting to drift off when he was pulled back to consciousness by a loud rap on his door, followed by a gruff voice shouting, ‘Strasinski. You there?’ He groaned, forced himself upright, and made his way to the door.

  Opening it, he spotted Marcel. He was unsure whether the glare coming towards him was caused by the look on the coach’s face or the midday sun.

  Marcel looked him up and down. ‘Are you going to do some training?’

  Andrei glanced down and realised he was still in his ski suit. He focused back on the coach. ‘Oh, I’ve just finished.’

  Marcel nodded. Even though he made no remark, Andrei was sure he spotted the tiniest glimpse of an impressed look on his coach’s face before he said, ‘I’m going to be late to training tomorrow. I have personal issues to deal with. The assistant coach will be here.’

  ‘All right …’

  Andrei crossed his arms, confused. Marcel didn’t go out of his way to tell him anything. There was more to this visit.

  ‘I have something I want you to give Nina.’