Captain's Call of Duty. Cindy Dees

      “Why couldn’t they get some other congressman to do their dirty work for them? Why him?” Alex asked.

      Jim shrugged. “Until he wakes up and can tell us that, your guess is as good as mine. Lord knows, my old man is no saint.”

      That wasn’t news to her. But it was hard to imagine him lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He’d always been so loud and forceful and dynamic. As a kid, she’d been more than a little afraid of him.

      “What do you know about this conspiracy?” she asked.

      “Precious little. We know they recruit rich and powerful people. They probably hide their money behind some corporate shell company.”

      “What do they want?”

      “In a word—power.”

      She sighed. “Them and everyone else in this town.”

      “I’m talking serious power. Way beyond what some elected schmuck can gather in a few terms on the right committees. I’m talking running nations. Taking down world leaders if they feel like it. Starting wars. Or ending them.”

      Whoa. He was talking Power with a capital P. “So we’re looking for links to these guys in Senator Chandler’s computer? Have you got a name? Anything?”

      “Nope. We’re running blind.”

      Good thing he had her, then. Her job was to give eyes and ears—real-time, usable intelligence—to operators in the field. “All right then. Let’s take a look at Chet’s email correspondence. If we don’t find anything there, how about we move on to a list of his biggest donors? Stands to reason if he’s in someone’s back pocket, that person is paying to keep the senator in office.”

      Jim nodded. “The money’s probably coming in privately or through some network of cover corporations.”

      She grinned. “That would be why I’ve got the second computer here. How about I surf the internet and see what I can scare up on his various donors? Maybe I can find connections between some of them.”

      “Have at it. I hate to abandon you, but I’ve got to get back to the office. Delta Company’s about to touch down in Africa and I need to get their initial threat assessment.”

      She sighed. “Rub salt in the wound, will ya?”

      “Get over it, Mendez.”

      Heck, she’d been trying to get over him for the past fifteen years to no avail. What made him think she was going to get over her goal to experience combat up close and personal any time soon? As if.

       Chapter 3

      Jim paused outside the door of the love nest, supper in hand. How weird was this, posing as lover to Alex? Hell, it made him hinky even to think about her being a girl. She’d always been Arturo’s kid sister, and then she’d been the resident tomboy on the ranch. Not to mention she was one of his troops now, too—even if she was only on loan to his unit. She was practically one of the guys, for God’s sake. His Kelley family loyalty was torn—catch Lana’s kidnappers or put Alex in danger. How was he supposed to choose?

      He pushed the door open and, no surprise, Alex was seated in front of the second computer. “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

      She made a rude remark any one of his soldiers might have made to him and kept typing.

      He laughed and went into the tiny kitchen. “I hope you like Chinese. I picked up takeout for us.”

      “Give me the one with beef.”

      “How’d you know I got one with beef?” he challenged.

      “Your family owns a cattle ranch in Montana. It’s your duty to support the beef industry.”

      He grinned and carried the white cardboard box to her. “Beef and broccoli.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Find anything?” he asked from the armchair across the room.

      “Maybe. The senator is going to a fundraiser tomorrow night hosted by some company called the McNaught Group. Ever hear of them?”

      “No. Should I have?”

      She shrugged. “You’d have to run in the right circles to come across them.”

      He frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

      She continued, “They describe themselves as a strategic analysis and investment group. Whatever the heck that is. But what’s interesting is several of their board members are donors to the Chandler campaign. Why would east-coast power brokers give a darn about the junior senator from Nebraska?”

      “Good question.”

      “I did a little digging on McNaught’s finances and ran into a whole bunch of nesting corporations. A dozen or more of them lead back to other Chandler donors.”

      “Any way you can tell if they contributed to my dad’s campaign?”

      “I’d have to get a list of your father’s campaign contributors. I don’t know if that’s readily available public information.”

      He made a face. “I know just the person to get it for us.”

      “Who?”

      “Who else? My mother.”

      “Really. You don’t have to call her. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation with your family.”

      “Just because she’s divorcing Hank, that doesn’t mean she isn’t as interested as I am in catching whoever kidnapped her baby girl. She’ll help me.”

      Alex chose that moment to spill her beef and broccoli all over her shirt. Red-faced, she made a dash for the bathroom. He pulled out his cell phone. “Hi, Mom. How are you doing tonight?”

      Sarah Mistler Kelley sounded as composed as she always did. “I’m fine, dear. Is there any change in his condition?”

      No need to ask who she meant. She might have left Hank because of his mistresses, but she’d loved the man and had had six children with him. Jim answered her regretfully, “No change. They’re still waiting for the brain swelling to come down so they can let him regain consciousness. The doctors said it could be a week or more. We just have to be patient.”

      A sigh came through the line. “Thanks for the update.”

      “Actually, that’s not why I called.”

      “Oh?”

      “I’m looking into who kidnapped Lana. Just poking around informally to make sure the police are doing their job. I was wondering if you have a list of campaign donors from Dad’s last couple of elections.”

      “Of course. I had to put together all the seating charts at the fundraisers and send out the thank-you notes. I can email the lists to you if you like.”

      “That would be great.”

      By the time Alex emerged from the bedroom wearing jeans and a maroon Harvard T-shirt, he was seated at her computer, logged on to his email and printing out the donor list, which had already come through from Sarah. Efficient woman, his mother.

      “Ask and ye shall receive,” he told Alex as he handed over the list.

      She nodded and jerked a thumb at him to get out of her seat. Grinning, he moved aside.

      “Want a beer?” he asked.

      She threw him a strangely hurt look. “No, thank you.”

      What was up with that? He’d seen her hoist a cold one with the guys in the unit plenty of times before. Whatever. He turned on the world news to see if there was any new pirate activity being reported in the Sea of Aden. It was a sad but true fact that he got nearly as much of his intelligence