Special Ops Exclusive

by Elle Kennedy

  Take her, for example: She’d always figured she’d end up with a daredevil like herself, but now, she would give anything to have such a sweet, honorable man like Nick in her life.

  Focus, Becks.

  She shoved all those pesky relationship thoughts from her mind and discovered that McAvoy’s gate was now wide open. A glance at the electronic keypad affixed to the concrete wall showed that the cover had been removed to expose a tangle of wires.

  “You hot-wired the gate?” she whispered in amusement.

  “Yep.”

  They walked right through it, heading up the long driveway leading to McAvoy’s two-story house. Flower beds lined the paved drive, and the late-night summer breeze rustled the stems of colorful flowers and the leaves of the lush green plants filling the beds. McAvoy had a good landscaper, that was for sure.

  Rebecca inhaled the sweet scent in the air, taking a second to admire the array of red, yellow and white roses planted beneath the spacious porch. The second they approached the porch steps, a light flickered on.

  “Motion sensor,” Nick said with a nod.

  She noticed he had one hand positioned slightly behind his hip, ready to draw his weapon in a heartbeat.

  Before they could knock or ring the doorbell, the heavy oak door flew open, which told her that their approach must have triggered an alarm inside the house.

  An angry-looking man in gray wool trousers and a black V-neck sweater appeared in the doorway. “How the hell did you get past the gate—” His jaw fell open as he recognized Rebecca. “Parker? What the hell?”

  “Good to see you again, Deputy McAvoy,” she said coolly. “It’s been, what, two years since we met at that fund-raiser?”

  Fred McAvoy had a pair of blue eyes that were a tad too close together and a long, thin nose that lent him a perpetually birdlike air. He also wasn’t a very tall man, only four or five inches taller than Rebecca, who considered herself tiny.

  “What the hell are you doing here at this hour?” McAvoy demanded. His suspicious gaze shifted to Nick, who hadn’t uttered a word. “Who’s this? And why are the two of you—” The man halted, eyes narrowed, and then his face lost all its color. “Barrett.”

  Nick’s voice was deceptively cordial. “Yes, we’ve met, too, Fred. On at least a couple of occasions. Should I be insulted that you didn’t recognize your own boss’s son?”

  “My boss is the president of the United States,” McAvoy answered curtly. “And I don’t give a damn whose son you are. It’s ten o’clock at night—you don’t show up unannounced at this hour.”

  “Yeah, we’re sorry to barge in on you like this,” Rebecca said, her tone conveying just how not sorry she was, “but we really wanted to give you a chance to respond before I took this story to the network.”

  McAvoy faltered. “What are you talking about? What story?”

  “Well, the copy hasn’t been written yet, but...” She shrugged. “I suppose I could give you a rough idea of what I plan on saying. It’ll go something like this—Some breaking news this morning, folks. Deputy Secretary Fred McAvoy has been implicated in the manufacturing, testing and release of the Meridian virus, which, as you all know, claimed more than a thousand lives in the small town of Dixie only a short time ago.”

  The remaining color drained from McAvoy’s face, leaving him paler than snow.

  “It has been confirmed,” Rebecca went on cheerfully, “that McAvoy was the mastermind behind the—”

  “I’m not the mastermind behind anything!” McAvoy burst out.

  He was practically shouting, and he quickly lowered his voice and glanced in the direction of the gate just in case an evening jogger happened to be passing by.

  “You have no proof of anything, Parker. The department will sue you for libel if you air any of your preposterous allegations.”

  “These aren’t allegations. They’re facts.”

  Nick spoke up. “Paul Waverly is in federal custody, Fred, and he’s more than willing to testify against you. He’s stated on the record that you gave him a sample of the virus to eliminate Sergeant Sebastian Stone.”

  McAvoy’s outraged mask slipped, revealing a flash of uncertainty. “Paul Waverly left town.”

  That earned him a little smirk from Nick. “Yeah, and I found him. So now why don’t you invite us inside, Fred, so we can have some privacy.”

  The other man’s lips tightened with indignation. “Privacy for what?”

  “For you to tell your side of the story to Ms. Parker.” Nick shrugged. “No matter what she says on the air tomorrow, you’re still going to jail, Fred. My father knows what you’ve done—”

  The deputy’s breath hitched in evident fear.

  “—and he’s not going to cover it up to save your ass. So if you want to explain why you did what you did, this may be your only chance before you’re thrown into federal lockdown.”

  It was obvious McAvoy didn’t want to let them in.

  It was also obvious he knew he was beaten.

  With a ragged breath, he opened the door wider and allowed them to step into the spacious front foyer.

  “I need a drink,” he mumbled.

  McAvoy took off walking without checking to see if they were following. Rebecca exchanged a look with Nick, and then the two of them trailed after the deputy secretary, whose shoulders had sagged in defeat.

  They entered a cozy den with wood-paneled walls, leather couches and a wet bar, which McAvoy made a beeline for. He didn’t offer them a drink. Just poured himself a big glass of whiskey and sank onto the sofa as if his legs could no longer support him.

  Rebecca sat down on the couch across from him while Nick stood behind her, watching the other man’s every move.

  “I’m not going to make a run for it,” McAvoy said in a bitter voice. “You think I want to get shot down by the SWAT team that’s probably out on the street, waiting for your word to storm the house?”

  Neither of them corrected him. Might as well let him think there was a team of government agents waiting to arrest him, Rebecca thought.

  “I’m surprised Kirk allowed you to talk to me first,” the deputy said gloomily before raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig. “He’s usually more by the book.”

  Rebecca answered for Nick. “I can be very persuasive, and Secretary Barrett owed me one for helping him track down his son.” She leaned forward and rested her hands on her knees. “Let’s not waste any time, Fred. Tell me what compelled you to believe that testing that virus on innocent people was a good idea.”

  He blanched. “That wasn’t my call. I didn’t make any decisions regarding the testing of the biological agent. I only followed the orders given to me, made a few arrangements and pulled the right strings.”

  She raised a brow. “Orders, huh? And who gave you these orders?”

  McAvoy just shrugged and took another sip.

  “Come on, Fred,” she cajoled, “don’t get all tight-lipped now. You know you have a better chance of saving your own butt if you give up the person responsible for Project Aries. Who gave the order to engineer the virus?”

  Slowly, McAvoy set his glass down on the handsome pine coffee table. “Who the hell do you think? It was Ferguson.”

  Rebecca tried to mask her shock. “You mean...the vice president?”

  “Who the hell else would I mean?” he said irritably.

  “Was he acting on President Howard’s behalf?” She held her breath, slightly afraid of the answer to that.

  “No. Howard has no idea what the veep has been up to.” A fresh dose of bitterness splashed on the deputy’s face.

  Nick finally joined the discussion, his voice laced with incredulity. “You’re saying that Vice President Troy Ferguson went behind the president’s back and sanctioned the development of a biological weapon?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Rebecca was still having a tough time controlling her shock, which was now joined by a pang of doubt. “Ferguson was
all about social reform during both campaigns. He and Howard were in agreement that we needed to cut back on defense spending.”

  “That’s what he wanted Howard to think,” McAvoy said darkly. “Ferguson wanted his name on that ticket, and he lied through his teeth to get it there. His father was a navy admiral, for Chrissake. Of course he’s pro-defense.”

  She had to admit McAvoy raised a good point. She remembered thinking the same thing during that first election—why would the son of a decorated admiral be so gung ho about cutting military spending?

  “The veep loathes our commander in chief,” McAvoy said with a sigh. “He thinks Howard’s attitude is too tolerant, that he should be making decisions with a more high-handed approach. After the terrorist attack on that hospital in California a couple of years ago, Ferguson had enough. He’s a big believer that ten years from now, wars will be fought solely with biological weapons, so he decided to create the deadliest one of all.”

  “And he cut a deal with the San Marquez government to test it in their country,” Rebecca said in disgust.

  “Sometimes extreme measures are necessary.” McAvoy sounded defensive. “Those villagers died so millions of future Americans could live.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Nick muttered.

  “I don’t sleep at night,” McAvoy shot back. “Why? Because any second, a plane could crash into my house, or a nuke could be dropped on my city—the war on terrorism continues to rage, and nobody’s doing a damn thing to stop it. Innocent people are dying for whatever crazy cause these fanatics subscribe to, and nobody is doing—”

  Rebecca cut him off in disbelief. “You’re doing the same thing yourself, Deputy! Killing innocent people for your cause—in this case, the cause is national defense. Those villagers in San Marquez did nothing to harm us. You and Ferguson murdered them, just like you murdered the men in Nick’s unit. And those men, by the way? They were Americans, the very people you’re claiming to protect.”

  “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made,” McAvoy said feebly.

  The disgust rose in her throat once more, and she resisted the urge to clock him right in the face. Taking a breath, she glanced over at Nick, who seemed equally annoyed with McAvoy’s reasoning.

  “So now what?” McAvoy demanded, his wary gaze moving from her to Nick. “Can I at least phone my lawyer before I’m arrested?”

  “Sorry, Fred, but we can’t let you anywhere near a phone,” Nick said.

  He rounded the couch and approached the other man, whose blue eyes filled with panic. “What the hell are you talking about? What are you doing?”

  “You must be jet-lagged,” Nick interrupted pleasantly. “It’s time to take a little nap.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened as Nick executed a lightning-fast karate chop to the back of McAvoy’s head. A moment later, the deputy sagged backward. Unconscious.

  “What the heck did you do that for?” she exclaimed.

  Nick shrugged. “We can’t leave him here and risk him calling Ferguson. And we can’t have him arrested yet or Ferguson might be tipped off.”

  “So what do we do with him, then?”

  Nick bent down and heaved the other man over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “We take him with us.”

  Chapter 16

  When four short knocks sounded on the motel room door an hour later, Nick hastily walked over to let his father in.

  “Were you followed?” was the first question out of his mouth.

  The secretary’s answering laugh resonated with genuine mirth. “Son, what do you take me for, an amateur? I was avoiding tails before you were even born.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “Right. I keep forgetting what an old fogy you are.”

  “Not old. Distinguished.” Barrett’s shrewd eyes examined the room. “Where is he?”

  Without a word, Nick marched over to the narrow closet and turned the doorknob.

  The door opened to reveal an unconscious McAvoy with a gag stuffed in his mouth, and his hands and feet bound.

  Secretary Barrett released an unhappy breath. “I’m damn disappointed in you.”

  It took a second for Nick to realize his father wasn’t talking to him; Kirk’s brown eyes had been focused on his colleague when he’d voiced that bitter remark.

  “How long has he been out?”

  “About an hour,” Nick replied as he shut the closet door. “He should be coming to soon.”

  Rebecca rose from the edge of the twin bed she’d been sitting on. “He gave us a name,” she told Barrett. “The person responsible for authorizing Project Aries.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  Nick shot his father a grim look. “Vice President Ferguson.”

  The secretary looked startled. “Troy? That’s ridiculous. Fred must have been lying. I’ll get the truth out of him when he wakes up.”

  “I think he was telling the truth,” Nick disagreed.

  “No. It’s simply preposterous. Troy has never offered any support for the defense platform. Trust me, I’ve had to fight him tooth and nail on every decision these past six years. Remember the rebuttal he gave on the issue during the reelection debate?”

  “Apparently he’s a secret defense nut,” Rebecca explained. “Which kind of makes sense, seeing how crazy Howard is about social reform. The president might have chosen a different running mate if Ferguson had revealed his fervent support on the matter of national defense. If I was Ferguson and I had my eye on that VP office, I’d second every last idea and endorse every last plan the president proposed.”

  “Yes, that’s a good point, but...” The secretary appeared stricken. “But allowing a virus to be tested on innocent people? I can’t imagine Troy initiating that.” With a sigh, Nick’s father glanced at the closet door. “Then again, I never would have imagined Fred would be embroiled in something like it either, and yet here he is.”

  “So how do we want to handle this?” Nick asked.

  “Clearly Ferguson’s role in this needs to be exposed,” Rebecca said firmly.

  Barrett’s gaze sharpened. “You can’t be planning on putting this on the air without talking to Ferguson first.”

  “Of course not. But with all due respect, Mr. Secretary, if the VP is guilty, I won’t be persuaded to cover it up.”

  His expression grew strained. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. First we need to determine if there’s anything to cover up.”

  Nick’s jaw hardened in fortitude. “I’ll talk to Ferguson.”

  “No,” his father said briskly. “This time it’s my turn.”

  “Dad—”

  “Don’t challenge me on this, son. Everything needs to be handled delicately from this point on. I can’t just accuse my vice president of engineering a virus that killed a thousand Americans after it wound up in the hands of terrorists. Troy deserves the chance to defend himself, to tell his side of the story before we jump to conclusions or make any allegations.”

  “You really want to be the one to confront him?” Nick asked his father, who nodded in response. “Then you’re not doing it alone. I’m coming with you.”

  “I’ll agree to that only if you agree to follow my lead.”

  “Fine. And it has to be somewhere public,” Nick added in a stern voice he’d learned from his father. “If he’s guilty, he might panic and try to take you out right then and there. I don’t want you becoming another casualty in this mess, Dad.”

  “How do you plan on getting Ferguson to meet in public?” Rebecca asked. “The man is surrounded by Secret Service agents 24/7 and whenever he leaves his residence, a thorough security plan is enforced. He can’t just meet you in a park or go for a stroll on the street.”

  “The Veterans Gala,” the secretary said suddenly.

  Nick wrinkled his forehead. “Come again?”

  “Oh, right,” Rebecca spoke up, sounding excited. “I RSVP’d for that months ago.”

  “There’s a dinner and gala at the White House tomorrow eveni
ng to honor our Vietnam vets,” the Secretary informed his son. “President Howard won’t be in attendance, not unless his itinerary has changed, but Ferguson is supposed to attend. As am I.”

  Nick thought it over for a moment. “It’ll be at the White House, so the VP won’t risk making a scene. Which makes me feel a helluva lot more comfortable about exposing myself like that.” He paused, then nodded. “I like it. We’ll attend the event together and find a way to speak to Ferguson in private.”

  “What about Fred? He was scheduled to attend, as well.”

  “Tell everyone he’s sick. And in the meantime, we’ll leave him here in the motel with Rebecca.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Rebecca’s voice was laced with shock, and when he met her green eyes, he saw the anger glittering in them. Knowing he was about to get another argument, he stifled a sigh and said, “Dad and I can handle it. I need you here to keep an eye on McAvoy.”

  “I’ll arrange for one of my guards to keep watch,” the secretary offered. “In fact, I think I’ll do that regardless. Connor can be trusted, and I don’t like the idea of you two staying here without protection.”

  “Hear that?” Rebecca said with a bite to her tone. “Connor will watch McAvoy.”

  The sigh slipped out. “There’s no reason for you to tag along, Red.”

  “You mean other than the fact that I was invited and already RSVP’d?” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

  “Then call and cancel. We don’t know what might be waiting for us there. What if there’s another hit squad lurking around, waiting for another shot at us?”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but Nick cut her off again. “I’m serious, Rebecca. You’re staying here. I can’t split my focus, okay? If you come, I’ll be too busy worrying about your safety.” At her dark scowl, he softened his tone. “You promised to follow orders, remember?”

  Her mouth set in a tight line. “Fine. I’ll stay behind, then.”