It Takes a Thief Read online

  “Cold fusion would be an incredible breakthrough. Ideally, it would provide inexpensive energy with no pollution.”

  “Sounds like a good thing so far. I’m all for it.”

  “Unless it’s developed by the wrong people.” Shelby stared out the dark-tinted window for a moment. “In the wrong hands, cold fusion would be a powerful weapon. Countries wanting to get out from under the control of the oil cartels would be eager to buy it.”

  “So, they’d be buying cold fusion instead of oil.” That didn’t seem to be a really big issue to her. In fact,considering the price of gas, wouldn’t that be a good thing?

  “It’s complicated. They could quickly amass trillions of dollars.”

  “And with the combination of endless energy and unlimited funds they could become a power to be reckoned with?” Okay, now it wasn’t sounding so good to Zoe.

  “That’s the general idea. Basically, they could hold governments hostage.”

  “You mean they could hold our government hostage. So, that’s what the Order is doing?”

  “We think that’s part of it. We don’t know what their agenda is or who’s in control of the organization. We don’t know a lot about them. We certainly don’t know enough.”

  “Has Ethan sent an agent in? I mean, that’s what he usually does, right?” Zoe asked.

  “This actually isn’t an FSA issue. Well, partly it’s FSA, but the CIA is involved, too. And the CIA sent several agents in. Unfortunately that hasn’t worked.”

  “Hasn’t worked? As in the agents weren’t able to infiltrate the Order, or as in the agents weren’t able to get back to the CIA?”

  “We’ve lost all the agents we’ve sent in but one. He returned in pretty bad shape.”

  Zoe wrapped the uneaten portion of her candy barin the wrapper and tossed it in her bag. “So, what do you know about them?”

  Shelby pulled a photograph from an envelope and handed it to her, flicking on the overhead light. The photo showed three men in business suits walking toward a limo. The black-and-white photo was grainy, and the features of the men weren’t discernible. She certainly couldn’t have picked any of them out of a crowd.

  “We believe those three men are the top echelon of the Order. The Triumvirate. Our intel is that they’re locating and obtaining certain documents from around the world.”

  “Documents that make cold fusion possible?”

  “That’s what we believe.”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

  “It’s a long, complex story.”

  “We’ve got a long drive.” Zoe shrugged.

  “You’re not too tired for a briefing?”

  “No way. I’m always wide awake after a job.”

  Shelby nodded and leaned back. “An Italian physicist, Giovanni Castiglia, has been missing for almost a year. In spite of the fact that he’s been known to disappear into his work before, we believe this is different.”

  “You think the Order took him?”

  “It’s possible. Castiglia is brilliant. He studied with Albert Einstein when he was young. But more important, Castiglia is Forrester’s great-uncle.”

  “What did he do when his uncle disappeared?”

  “Nothing. He didn’t report it to the authorities, never even mentioned it to anyone at all.”

  “So, you think he knows where his uncle is?”

  “Possibly. He might have not reported it because he knew his security clearance would be yanked. The government can’t afford to have an employee with a high security clearance vulnerable to demands from kidnappers.”

  “So, did Forrester leave the NSA to find his uncle or was he in on the disappearance?”

  “We have no idea.”

  “But you still think his disappearance is connected with the Order?”

  “There’s been a rumor about a group of physicists who have worked on different theories for years. These physicists would take on younger scientists and mentor them, eventually passing along all the information they had acquired and developed.”

  “Like an apprenticeship of sorts.”

  “It was never publicized because their theories went against what most physicists believed. They basically worked in secret. A massive amount of information was supposedly developed and hidden.”

  “Where is all this information?” Zoe asked.

  “We don’t know. It could be anywhere.”

  “But if this information is really old, what usewould it be? Cold fusion has only been a concept since the early twentieth century.”

  Shelby raised her eyebrows. “You’ve researched cold fusion?”

  “Not really. I just read a lot. I remember that from somewhere.”

  “We don’t know what’s in the documents. It’s possible that there’s something in the older documents that doesn’t pertain to cold fusion but could lead to a method to make it stable and predictable.”

  “I see. So, this old information combined with newer information, like quantum physics or quantum mechanics, could be a breakthrough?”

  “It’s possible,” Shelby said.

  “So, why hasn’t someone in this secret society of physicists collected all this data before now?”

  “The whole secret society theory is just that. A theory. There’s no proof that it ever existed and if it did, it probably fell apart a long time ago.” Shelby stretched and settled back again. “Which means the documents could be anywhere. And that whoever has them might not have a clue as to what they are.”

  “And you think someone has figured it out?”

  “The little information we’ve gotten indicates that to be true. Castiglia has always been a progressive thinker. He’s worked on some pretty wild theories. He might be just the physicist they need to put it all together.”

  “How do they know where the documents are?”

  “We don’t know that either. If we did, we’d just steal the documents before they did.”

  “So, that’s why the Order is looking for a thief.”

  “We believe the Order has already gotten some of the documents. But it stands to reason that some of them will be in places with security they can’t deal with.”

  “So, who’s been stealing the documents for them?”

  Shelby pulled another photo out of the envelope. “Forrester. His basic training in the CIA would have been enough for him to do some of it.”

  Zoe took the picture and looked at it. Forrester wore a suit and tie along with a stiff expression. Looked like it was probably the photo from his NSA file.

  “That’s him, all right.” She handed the photo back.

  “We arranged for your theft to be discovered shortly after you left tonight. Forrester should put two and two together and come to the conclusion that you were the thief. The fact that he asked about your father is a good sign that he’s on the trail.”

  “And then what do we do?”

  “At this point, we’re just playing it by ear. We need to be really careful.”

  “Maybe, but careful doesn’t always get you what you want. Or need.”

  “You aren’t a real agent, Zoe.”

  “I know. But I’m a real thief. And that’s what they want.”

  “Zoe, you’ve got to play this by the book. You need to do what I tell you to do. No deviations, no winging it, no having any good ideas of your own.”

  “Absolutely. By the book.”

  She didn’t say whose book.

  October 30, Outside Bethesda, Maryland “Halt!”

  Zoe froze in place, one foot lifted off the floor, arms stretched out to her sides for balance. What had she done wrong now? She glanced across the training room at her father. Zeke Alexander leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head in what she assumed to be disappointment at her lackluster performance.

  “You have to be conscious of every part of your body.” He pushed off the wall with a graceful ease a ballerina would have envied. “Use the spray before you trip
one of the lasers.”

  She shouldn’t have had to use the spray again so soon. The idea was to spray the aerosol, which illuminated the otherwise invisible laser beams, then to move around, under, and over the beams from memorizing where they were located. The more she could memorize, the farther she could travel before she had to stop to use the spray again. Zoe hadn’t traveled more than two feet since the last spray.

  She sprayed the aerosol into the air in front of her and grimaced when the fog revealed a laser beam right where she’d been about to step. She concentrated on the pattern of laser beams her father had set up and moved across the rest of the space without hitting any of them, using the aerosol only twice more.

  “You aren’t concentrating, Zoe.” Zeke flipped off the lasers and walked across the floor to take the aerosol can from her. “What’s the problem?”

  She padded over to a table and opened a bottle of water without answering. She knew exactly what the problem was. She couldn’t stop thinking about the Order. She’d have to be at the top of her form in order to steal for them and find out what they were up to at the same time. That meant total concentration. Which was exactly what she hadn’t had during the exercise she’d just completed. Naturally, her father noticed. He noticed everything.

  “You never should have left the business,” her fathersaid, walking across the room. Slender and fit, the only sign of his fifty-six years were a few laugh lines around his eyes and a shock of silver hair. Zoe had no doubt that he’d gone prematurely gray from his occupation.

  “I wanted out.” She turned to look at him. “I didn’t want to live that life anymore.”

  “But you’re doing it now.”

  “I’m working for the government now.” She didn’t have a problem with stealing. Never had. But she knew that’s what her father would assume she meant. He’d never think that she had stopped because she’d realized that she’d never be good enough for him. She wasn’t in the mood to enlighten him.

  Zeke shrugged. “I don’t see that much difference. It’s still stealing.”

  “It’s legal. And it’s not about the stealing. It’s about protecting my country. It’s about doing the right thing.”

  “I don’t like it, Zoe.” He shook his head. “You’re a thief, not a spy. What’s Shelby thinking?”

  “It was my idea, Dad. I volunteered.”

  “They’re lucky. You’re a good thief. Petite, powerful, intelligent.” He grinned at her, then shrugged. “Intelligent most of the time. And look at you. You’re beautiful just like your mother. Except for your eyes. Damn if I know where you got those gold eyes from.”

  “I told you, Dad. It’s a recessive gene.” Why hadshe thought it would be a good idea to have her father train her? Because he’d been the best in his time. There still wasn’t a thief who could do half of what he’d done in his career. Except for her. And Ethan and Shelby thought it would lend credence to her getting back into the business again.

  “Are we done here?” Zoe asked.

  “For today, yes.” He nodded. “But, Zoe, if you’re going to do it, you should put in more time. Practice everything until it’s second nature.”

  He was right. Working for the Order, she’d be stealing from places where Shelby and Ethan couldn’t protect her if she was caught.

  There would be no safety net.

  3

  November 3, New York City, New York

  “IT’S A MISTAKE,” LOGAN SAID after a moment of consideration. “You need the best.” He leaned over the table and thumped the stack of papers. Background information that had been compiled on a variety of thieves. “Those guys aren’t it.”

  “They have assured me they are capable.” Karl Weisbaum stood at the window of the Trump Tower apartment that faced Fifth Avenue.

  Logan considered Weisbaum’s back for a moment. Tall and distinguished in an elegant and expensive suit, he looked like the international businessman he professed to be. But there was an edge to him that Logan interpreted as dangerous. Much more so than the other two members of the Triumvirate who ran the Order. Axel von Bayem and Pierre Simitiere sat across the room watching, their eyes and expressions unreadable. Logan suppressed a shudder at the power these three men wielded.

  “If they were capable thieves, then why have they all done time for burglary? They were caught once; it could happen again.” Logan shook his head. “I thought you were serious about this. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Logan.” Weisbaum turned back from the glass wall that looked out over midtown Manhattan. “We must have the items. You know that.”

  “Indeed I do,” Logan agreed. “Which is why I don’t understand using second-rate help to get them.”

  “What do you suggest, then?” von Bayem asked in a slightly accented rumble as he pushed his bulky frame from the sofa and walked to the small bar. “Is there someone you’d recommend?” He splashed vodka into a cut crystal glass and turned back to Logan.

  “There’s only one person who can do all of these jobs and not get caught.” Logan rose from the leather chair. “Zoe Alexander.”

  “Zeke Alexander has been out of the business for almost five years. Besides, he’s getting too old.” Weisbaum waved a manicured hand in dismissal.

  “He was the first one we thought of,” Simitiere agreed. “Too bad he’s not available.”

  “I’m not talking about Zeke,” Logan corrected them. “His daughter, Zoe.”

  Weisbaum frowned. “I heard that she left the business a while back.”

  “Besides, she’s just a girl,” von Bayem protested.

  “Well, she’s back in it,” Logan said, ignoring von Bayem. “I attended a ball at the German Embassy a couple of days ago. Zoe Alexander was there and shortly after she left, a theft was discovered.”

  “Really? Did she take the silver or something?” von Bayem laughed.

  “More like half a million in jewelry.” Logan kept his eyes on Weisbaum. “From state-of-the-art safes in rooms in the well-protected guest quarters.”

  “So, she was a guest of the embassy.” Weisbaum shrugged. “That doesn’t mean she did the theft.”

  “She wasn’t on the guest list. And none of the guests had ever heard of her, so she didn’t come with anyone.” Logan paused. “She was there for one reason.”

  “She might be worth considering,” Weisbaum said.

  “I don’t know. Can she be trusted?” Simitiere asked.

  Von Bayem snorted. “Can any thief be trusted? Once word gets out what we’re looking for, everyone and his cousin will be after it.” He slugged down a gulp of vodka. “I still think you should be doing this.”

  Logan sighed. “I told you, I’m not good enough. Not for these jobs.”

  “You got the first of the documents without a problem,” von Bayem pointed out.

  “Sure. Those were easy. Breaking into homes with practically no security.” Logan shrugged. “But now we’re looking at museums, laboratories. These are places with sophisticated security systems. It’s far beyond my capabilities.”

  “Come on, Logan. You were trained as a CIA agent. You expect us to believe you can’t do this?” Von Bayem laughed and shook his closely cropped head.

  “I told you. I only went through the general field training at the CIA. I worked at a desk until I moved to the NSA. I’m a much better cryptanalyst than an agent. Or a thief.”

  “You better be a good cryptanalyst. Otherwise, we won’t have any need for you.” Von Bayem grinned and it looked truly evil to Logan.

  “I’m the best. If I can’t decode the documents, no one can,” he assured them and hoped it was true.

  “I’m not worried about her being involved,” Weisbaum said, ignoring the exchange between von Bayem and Logan. “We can keep her in the dark as to the importance of what she’s stealing. Besides, my guess is that she steals purely for monetary gain. I doubt she’d be interested in why we want the items.”

  “Exactly,” Logan agreed.

 
“But will she be willing to do it? After all, shejust pulled a big job. She’s set for a while, I’d think.” Weisbaum turned back to the glass wall.

  “Oh, she’ll want the work. My sources tell me that the jewels were found with a fence. He hadn’t even broken them down yet, so it’s unlikely that she’s gotten any money from them. My guess is that she’s planning another job already.”

  “How do we contact her?” Weisbaum asked.

  “You won’t find her number listed in the phone book.” Logan chuckled, earning frowns from all three men.

  “I assume you have a way of getting in touch with her?” Weisbaum asked.

  “There’s a benefit gala being held this weekend at the Friedlander Museum to celebrate the opening of an exhibit of Japanese artifacts from the Heian period.”

  “The Friedlander has an excellent security system,” Weisbaum said.

  “Yes,” Logan agreed. “But most of it is concentrated on keeping thieves out of the museum. The benefit gala would provide an excellent opportunity for her.”

  “You think she’ll be there?”

  Logan nodded.

  “Then make sure you’re there as well,” Weisbaum instructed. “Find out how much she wants for what we need done.”

  “I’m trying to find her beforehand, but if I don’t,

  I’ll be at the gala. I’ll call you on Sunday.”

  “No.” Weisbaum shook his head. “We’ll be in Europe until Tuesday. I’ll get in touch with you.”

  Logan shrugged, his expression carefully passive. “Whatever.” He wondered where in Europe they would be, because he was certain that’s where they had his uncle, Giovanni Castiglia.

  “I knew he was the one. He had to be. All the signs were there.” Capo stepped out of the shadows of the hallway.

  “Christ! I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Simitiere glared and picked up the cigarette he’d dropped. “Can’t you just enter a room like a normal person?”

  Weisbaum flinched at the sound of Capo’s voice but recovered smoothly. Von Beyam took his drink and sank into the leather sofa.

  Capo was no longer surprised by the three men. He’d worked with them long enough to know their every reaction. Yet they rarely were able to predict his. They should have known that he’d be listening. After all, it was Logan. One of the chosen, an important part of the Legacy. Capo had explained that to them often enough. He spared a brief moment to regret that