Only the extraordinary women of Athena Academy could create Oracleâa covert intelligence organization so secret that not even its members know who else belongs. Now itâs up to three top agents to bring down the enemies who threaten all theyâve sworn to protectâ¦.
Kim Valenti:
An NSA cryptologist, this analytical genius and expert code breaker is the key to stopping a deadly bomb.
COUNTDOWN by Ruth Wind
Diana Lockworth:
With only twenty-four hours until the presidentâs inauguration, can this army intelligence captain thwart an attempt to assassinate him?
TARGET by Cindy Dees
Selena Jones:
Used to ensuring international peace, this legal attaché has her biggest assignment yetâfoiling a terrorist attack abroad.
CHECKMATE by Doranna Durgin
Tuesday, October 5
I t was night and snowing when Kim Valenti parked at FBI headquarters in Chicago. Snow came in through the window of the stolen carâa 1971 gold Buick Skylarkâthat sheâd hot-wired at the parking lot of the UBC television station. Sheâd be glad to get somewhere warmer.
Before she got out, she checked her face in the rearview mirror. If there was blood showing, she would draw attention to herself, and someone would be concerned or alarmed, which would cause more delays. She couldnât risk losing any more time.
There was a bomb ticking away at the airport. Somewhere. Due to detonate in exactlyâshe checked her watchâseventy-nine minutes.
In the mirror, she saw that her lip was swollen. Sheâd have a black eye tomorrow. A few scrapes, but no damage that would make her stand out too much in a law enforcement agency.
She got out of the car and hid the gun sheâd also stolen in the small of her back, tucked into the waistband of her jeans. The weight of it was comforting and cold. Her cell phone was in her hand, the cord around her wrist.
Snow fell more heavily now, and she was half-frozen from the drive through the Chicago streets in a broken-down car with a shattered window.
In spite of the cold, her torn and battered ear throbbed. She wished it would have frozen. At least that would make it stop hurting. Without breaking stride, she scooped a handful of snow from the hood of a nearby car and pressed the icy ball to torn cartilage.
As she approached the front doors of the FBI building, a group of men erupted into the parking lot, rushing toward cars and vans. They shouted directions to one another, pulled on gloves, carted cases and rifles.
All headed, no doubt, for the television station. Kim ducked into the shadow of a truck, watching, her mouth hard. She could tell them that their rush was futile, but they wouldnât listen to her now any more than they had earlier.
No, if she had any chance of success, there was only one man for the jobâLex Tanner, FBI explosives expert and a compatriot sheâd believed in before this morning.
She spied him toward the back of the group, carrying a metal suitcase. His dark hair was cut very short, the nose surprisingly recognizable from the pictures sheâd seen, and he was quite tall. At least six-four. Rangy, lean and muscled, with shoulders big enough to shelter her from the wind.
As he neared her spot, she stepped out of the shadows. âLex Luthor, I presume?â
He started, narrowing his eyes and sizing her up. Recognition washed over his features. âValenti?â He looked more alarmed than pleased. âWhere the hell have you been? Iâve been calling all afternoon.â
âLong story. Right now, I need you to bring your little bomb kit and come with me to the airport.â
âI canât. Iâm on my way to UBC. Thereâs a terroristââ
âYeah, yeahââ she waved a hand âânever mind. Thatâs not the problem.â
âTheyâve stolen a bomb theyâre threatening to detonateââ
âItâs not at the station.â
âTheyâve got hostages.â
âI know.â She took a breath. âLook, I donât have time to explain everything, but the drama at UBC is a smoke screenâthe bomb is at the airport.â
âItâs not there! Donât you get it? Weâve been over it a hundred and forty-seven times.â His exasperation might have been understandable if theyâd been strangers.