When Ronoff arrived at the Capitol Wheel, one of his posse cut to the front. Those waiting in line for the last ride of the night began to shout at him in aggravation. Ben heard Adam’s distinctive chuckle as he walked past.
“We might just solve our problem with crowd sourcing,” Griffin’s voice came over the comm.
“Just be alert,” Adam replied. “It could be a diversion.”
The CAT member operating the Ferris wheel could have won an Academy Award for his performance. No way was he going to let Ronoff just waltz on board the VIP gondola without waiting in line. Not until the Russian body guard greased the skids with a handful of bills.
“Remind me to make sure Becker deposits that in the agency’s sunshine fund,” Adam quipped.
Ben’s face relaxed into a wry smile. No matter what went down in the next few minutes, his friends had his back. Quinn was safe with Caracas. The other agent might be a loudmouth asshole but he would put the mission first and protect her at any cost. And she could certainly protect herself against him.
“They’re letting him aboard,” Griff relayed.
Increasing his pace, Ben stepped around the crowd to the front of the line. Agent Becker gave him a stern look before Ronoff waved Ben into the black gondola marked with the number forty-two. One of Ronoff’s henchmen tried to climb aboard as well, but Ben put his hand out to stop him.
“The agreement was we meet alone,” he said.
“Make up your mind,” Becker prodded from the dock. “This isn’t a private trip. These people in line want their chance, too.”
Ronoff shook his head at his bodyguard and Becker appeared to take great delight in shoving the door closed in his face. The gondola moved forward several feet allowing others to enter the car behind them. Ben took a moment to assess his surroundings. The glass enclosed pod was approximately six feet long, five feet wide, and five feet high. He was about to spend twelve minutes trapped in an airtight glass box suspended one hundred eighty feet in the air with a ruthless killer. Without any option for an escape route. No wonder his pulse was beating to the cadence of the “William Tell Overture.”
“Sit, Agent Segar.”
Ronoff indicated the three empty bucket seats. He was spread out in one closest to the outer window. Ben strategically took the one closer to the door, catty-corner from Ronoff. The Russian smirked at his choice.
“You are wise to not trust me. I am not a man who plays fair.”
“Does that mean you didn’t bring my program?”
The gondola moved forward again.
“I did not,” he replied with a grin. “It turns out it is worth a lot more to someone else.”
Fuck.
The word echoed in his ear when both Adam and Griff parodied his sentiment. The gondola shifted forward again. They’d reached nine o’clock on the wheel and the tip of the Washington Monument came into view.
“Then this little party was for nothing.”
It was going to be a long twelve minutes.
“Easy, Bennett,” Griffin murmured into his earwig. “See if you can get him talking. The plan was to retrieve your AI when we grab him.”
The gondola crawled up to eleven o’clock. The lights on the side of the Ferris wheel were pulsing to the music, touching off a low throbbing in Ben’s temple.
“Don’t be such a party pooper, Agent Segar.” The Russian took a small, silver flask from his pocket. He offered it to Ben who declined it with a shake of his head. “You have a very talented mathematical mind, I think. You are wasting it on artificial intelligence. Cryptocurrency is where you should be using your talents. I have big plans to manipulate the market. I think you and I could work well together.”
“I don’t swing that way.”
Ronoff’s head snapped up. The insolent lazy look he’d been wearing was replaced by a laser-focused expression of equal parts fury and admiration. The admiration seemed to win out because he relaxed back again and grinned at Ben.
“I am very discreet. If I had to guess, our mutual friend told you.”
His fingers clenched along with his gut at the Russian’s reference to Quinn as a friend.
“Nothing is foolproof. Or untraceable. Not even on the dark web.”
The Russian’s flinch was nearly undetectable as he considered Ben’s words. Ben took some solace in the idea he could intimidate the other man.
“I have to wonder why a list that was so important to you, you had to kill an innocent woman is no longer critical?” Ben continued.
“Oh, it is still very important to me. Critical, as you say, in fact.” Ronoff sniffled as he waved his hand. “I have chosen to honor my deal with the original seller. I don’t trust you to give me the actual list, you see. Even better, the seller is very interested in your program. I have offered it in exchange for my final payment for the list.” He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his watery eyes. “I don’t think you understand, Agent Segar. I own you now. I can sell you out to any of the parties you have double-crossed these past few years.”
Ben’s knuckles were white on the arm rest. He’d calculated the risk when he’d initiated his plan, but everything depended on the traitor showing up tonight. The odds were quickly running against him.
The Russian blew his nose. “Ah, but you are angry at me for killing your friend. She was beautiful, no?”
Nausea rose up the back of Ben’s throat. This man had tried to kill the woman he loved and he dared to pretend remorse. He hoped Griffin had enough to put him away forever.
“She was innocent,” Ben protested. “And she didn’t deserve to die.”
Ronoff scoffed at the word innocent. “You loved her. And now she’s gone.”
Ben dug his fingers into the leather armrest in his seat, but he didn’t bother answering. The gondola had reached twelve o’clock. The Jefferson Memorial, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol Dome were all lit up majestically against the inky-black sky. But Ben saw none of this.
Ronoff laughed. “You think your feelings were not obvious the other night at the White House? Or that a man like me cannot know what desire looks like on another man’s face. Trust me, Agent Segar, you wore your desire for Quinn Darby very plainly.”
“Trusting you is not something I plan to do. Not after tonight.”
The Russian swiped at his eyes. “She had nine lives, that one. But only one of them was meant to be spent with you.” He was suddenly overcome with a coughing fit.
“She was the last name on your damn list.”
Ben had shocked him. Ronoff was suddenly flushed.
“You have seen the list.” He coughed the words out. “She said no one else would know that name was on it. It is the Phoenix’s list.”
The conversation was suddenly difficult to follow.
“Who is ‘she’?”
Ronoff was overcome with another coughing fit. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose still ran.
“Is this guy high?” Griff asked.
Ben didn’t know or care. There was something he was missing here. His neck tingled and his pulse raced.
“What she are you talking about, Ronoff?” he demanded.
The wheel passed by the dock and began its assent up to the sky again.
Ronoff began to wheeze. “She knows . . . you are the Mariner,” he managed to get out. “She will . . . use it . . . against you!”