“Quinn and Drake were close…apparently like brothers. At the op meeting after Drake’s death, Quinn and the others vowed to continue the investigation. They won’t stop until you go down.”
Turner’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “What do you know about Drake’s vendetta?”
“Enough.”
“If you want to continue doing business with me, Ms. Diamond, I suggest you be a little more forthcoming in your answers. What do you know?”
Thoroughly enjoying herself, Jules drawled, “I know that you were in a meeting with some people in Colombia. A drug cartel attacked the building. You and your meeting attendees escaped by helicopter. Drake and several others were left behind to die. Drake was the only survivor. He’s been working for years trying to find out why you were meeting and the names of the other attendees.”
Jules waited for the denials. Waited for Turner to come up with lies or accusations against Ash.
Instead, Turner waved her hand as if the events Jules had just described were nothing more than a bothersome gnat. “It wasn’t my fault. How was I to know a cartel had taken over that area? I was the one who called for more security. How is it my fault that they failed to protect themselves?”
“What was the meeting for?”
“Careful, Ms. Diamond. I would hate to give you intel that would get you killed.”
Jules shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t have any skin in this game. But if you don’t take care of Quinn and his friends, you’ll never be able to relax.”
“You can’t just kill them off. As much as I would like to see that happen and as good as your skills are, you won’t be able to get away with killing all of them.”
“I could if they all died in the same explosion.”
The doubt disappeared, and a gleam appeared in Turner’s eyes. “And just how do you propose to do that?”
“Simple. Remember, I have infiltrated the organization. I know where the rats sleep.”
“So they have a barracks or some such?”
How much did Turner know about OZ? Since the woman had proved she knew more than the average citizen, Jules could take no chances.
“Not barracks, but when they’ve got a big case, they stay in one place. It’d be easy to arrange a bit of a gas leak during the night. Take out the entire organization in one fell swoop.”
“When?”
Jules wagged her finger at Turner. “Uh-uh. Not till we talk terms.”
“All right. I’ll pay you the same amount I paid for Drake times four.”
“Make it five. There are a couple of other operatives that’ll go up with them. They’ve got to be worth something, too.”
“Very well, but that’s all I’ll authorize.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Senator.”
Turner stood. “Can you do it soon? I have some plans for the future and would like to have this nasty business far behind me before I announce them to my constituents.”
“I’ll take care of it within the next couple of weeks.”
“All right. Text me photos as soon as it’s done. I’ll deposit your fee the same way I did for the Drake job.”
Her eyes as cold as ice, Turner added, “And for the record, Ms. Diamond, let’s not see each other again.”
“Not a problem.”
Jules walked out the door and got into the car waiting a block away. Her expression never changed, but her heart was pounding like a jackhammer in her chest. They had done it. They’d actually done it. Senator Nora Turner had just been recorded ordering the murders of several American citizens.
She was going down, and she was going down hard.
Ash opened the door to the hotel room, and Jules flew into his arms. “We did it. We actually did it.”
“No, baby. You did it. I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my life.”
Pulling from his arms, her eyes twinkling with happiness, she said, “Pretty damn good if I do say so myself.”
“I’d say incredible.” Covering her mouth with his, Ash kissed her. Longing, pride, relief intermixed with a love so profound he couldn’t comprehend his next breath without her.
“I would tell you guys to get a room, but you already have one.”
Laughing, Jules pulled away and peeked around Ash’s shoulder to see her fellow OZ operatives all grinning at her. “Wow, the gang’s all here.”
“We are.” Holding up a glass filled with something sparkling, Eve smiled at her. “You done good, newbie.”
“High praise coming from the queen of undercover,” Jazz called out.
Drinks were poured, and more toasts were made. It occurred to Ash that this was the first time in years they’d actually celebrated anything. Sitting around a local watering hole rehashing an op was a far cry from an actual celebration. The fight wasn’t over, but for this moment, they needed to feel good about what they’d accomplished.
Ash took a swallow of champagne and watched Jules with the rest of the team. When she’d first arrived at OZ, he’d been concerned that she would continue to hold herself separate. He now understood why she had done that. The lies she’d told had driven an invisible wedge between her and the others. But now the secrets were out, and the OZ operatives were all on the same page.
“She’s a natural.”
Ash sent Gideon a small smile. “Remind you of anyone?”
“Yeah. In fact, she might be better than Eve. And if you tell Eve I said that, I’ll shoot you.”
“It’ll never leave my lips.”
“So what now?”
“It’s already in FBI hands. The moment Jules was safe, I sent the recording to a trusted friend there. I’d say Turner has about an hour or so to feel smug. Then life as she knows it is over.”
“Think she’ll give up the names of the others?”
“Doubt it. At least not at first. She’s got too much to lose to admit to anything. Down the road, though, I think she’ll sell out for a deal.”
“You good with that?”
“Am I good with cutting a deal with the woman responsible for letting Clark go so he could kill my wife? Hell no. But I’ve learned to compromise. It’ll be good enough to know her career is over and that she’ll serve some time. Maybe not as long as she deserves, but again, good enough.”
The bitterness in his tone belied his words. No, he wasn’t all right with Turner getting a light sentence. He knew to his soul she was directly involved in arranging Clark’s escape. Meg’s death was on her. Problem was, he couldn’t prove it. What he could prove was her presence in Colombia.
Thanks to Jules, the men who’d died that day would finally get justice. So yeah, it’d have to be good enough.
Chapter Forty-Five
Three Days Later
Alexandria, Virginia
Ash stood before the woman he’d spent years trying to bring down. The satisfaction was still there, but it had been tempered by frustration. Turner wasn’t talking. She knew she had been had, knew she was finished. The allegations, along with the recording of her meeting with Jules, were classified, but soon everyone and their neighbor would know that Senator Nora Turner was both corrupt and evil.
No way would a helicopter come swooping in to save her hide this time.
To avoid a media frenzy for as long as possible, the FBI had placed her under house arrest. So far she’d been closed-mouth and refused to answer any questions. This meeting at her home—one he was surprised she’d agreed to—was to try to change her opinion about talking. There was a ton of intel in her head.
“I must say you look quite healthy for a dead man.”
Ash had to give her credit. Turner was as cool as any cold-blooded killer he’d ever faced. But behind that bravado, there was fear. She looked a full decade older than she had in her meeting with Jules. She knew she was beaten.
“I’m feeling better. I’ll be even better when you’re behind bars where you belong.”
She tilted her head slightly as if trying to figure him out. “I’m as
suming you wanted this meeting for more reasons than to exchange insults with me.”
“You know exactly why I’m here. I want answers.”
“I agreed to this meeting as a courtesy, but I’m under no obligation to tell you anything. In fact, my attorney strongly urged me not to see you.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I guess since we’ve been in each other’s lives so much over the last few years, I thought it only fitting that we have a face-to-face.”
“In each other’s lives? That’s how you’re going to play it? Turner, you not only left a half-dozen men to die that day, you arranged for John Leland Clark to escape and murder my wife.”
“You don’t have proof of any of that.”
“I noticed you didn’t bother to deny your involvement in either incident.”
“What’s the point? You can’t record anything in this room. I fell for that once. I won’t again. It’s your word against mine. And no matter what you might think, mine still holds a lot more weight than yours.”
That wasn’t true, but he didn’t call her on it. He had come for answers, not to gloat. She had resigned her Senate seat, and every reporter in the country wanted to know why. She had given no answers to their questions, and speculation was running rampant. She could keep up the illusion of control if she wanted. He knew what a person who was on the edge of losing everything looked like.
“If it’s just your word against mine, why not tell me the truth?”
“Good try, but no. Ms. Stone got everything you’re going to get from me the other day. You’ll not get anything more.”
Jules’s real name had not been revealed, but Turner had already proved she had connections. Just how far those connections went was something he intended to find out.
“You’ll have to tell the truth at some point.”
She smiled almost pityingly. “So naïve for one of such experience. I will say that no one was supposed to get killed that day. We had no way of knowing we would be attacked.”
“Maybe not, but you worked hard to hide what you were doing. And you’ve spent a boatload of money covering up the aftermath.”
“The meeting was supposed to be a secret. No one, including that cartel, should have known anything about it. The attack caught us all off guard.”
“And you ran like a coward.”
“I’m not trained to fight.”
“Fighting is one thing. You could have sent someone in to save us, but instead, you’ve spent more than a decade trying to bury it.”
She shrugged. “Casualties of war.”
Fury surged, and he ground his teeth to keep from going after her with his hands. That would solve nothing. “This was no war, Turner.”
“Life is a war, Mr. Drake. We’re all fighting for one thing or another. You and those other men lost that day. And now you think you’ve finally beaten me. That you’re going to get what you want. You think you’re going to make me pay. Are you happy about that?”
“Happy? No. Relieved? Yes.”
“You probably don’t agree, but I was a victim, too.”
“You’re right about that…I don’t agree.”
“Look, I wasn’t even in politics then. I was a—”
“You were the CEO of a very successful tech company. Yeah, I know exactly who you were. You think that absolves you somehow? You were a human being abandoning other human beings to die.”
“I didn’t know they were just going to leave you. How could I? We were all in shock.”
“And when did you find out we were left behind?”
Her eyes slipped away from his for just an instant. “It was a couple of days. I assumed you were dead. We all did.”
“And you didn’t give enough of a damn to find out.”
“I just wanted to put it behind me. I don’t see why you can’t do the same. You lived. You should be happy.”
His jaw clenched, Ash ground out, “Yeager Bates, Jeff Mason, Cort Dunley.”
Her frown of confusion was real, and then he saw the recognition in her eyes. She knew those names.
“Yes, those are the names of the men you left to die. The other two were locals. I never knew their names. They got covered up like everything else. Swept under a rug like they never mattered. Each one of them mattered. They had hopes, dreams, aspirations.”
Ash had sworn to himself that if he ever got the chance, she would at least know their names, know them.
“Yeager was twenty-eight years old, still single, but he had a mother who loved him. Neither Cort nor Jeff had families, but they had people who cared about them. They mattered.”
Instead of remorse, he saw something like exasperation in her expression. Hell, had he really expected her to care?
“Again, it’s not like I was the one responsible. I don’t even remember you.”
Of course she didn’t. “I am the one who saved your life.”
Her eyes widened as realization dawned. “I was being trampled, and you picked me up and carried me out. I knew somebody did. It was a horrific experience for me.”
“It was no picnic for the men you and your people left behind.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“I would think that’s obvious.”
“Not really. Do you think I’m going to just sit back and let you ruin my career?”
“Your career is the least of your worries, Senator.”
“Ah, I see. You think I’m going to be indicted and put in jail. My sources told me you’re an intelligent man.”
“How do you think you’re going to get out of this?”
“You really have no idea how big this thing is, do you?”
“You’re a good start.”
“So smug, yet so stupid.”
“You can make it easier on yourself if you tell me who else was involved.”
The self-satisfied smile remained, telling him there was no point in staying any longer. He’d come for answers and wouldn’t be getting any. He had at least reminded her of the men she’d let die. For now, that had to be enough.
“In case you’re thinking about skipping town, be aware that the FBI is right outside your door. No helicopter is going to swoop in and save your ass this time.”
“Get out of my home. Now.”
With a nod, Ash left through the backdoor, the way he’d come. No way was Turner getting away. He hadn’t been able to persuade her to give up names, but she had confirmed something he had known all along. This thing was a whole lot bigger than just one person. Turner would be only the first to fall.
But how many more were there? And who was at the top?
* * *
On legs that were much too shaky, Nora went to the bar in the corner. The brandy and Scotch she served guests were on the counter, but this called for the good stuff. Opening the cabinet, she took down her prized bottle of brandy and poured herself a generous portion. Holding the bottle in one hand and her glass in the other, she headed to the leather recliner she’d bought a few years ago. It was her favorite thinking chair, and she had much to think about.
Easing down into the chair, Nora took a sip and allowed the liquor’s warmth to permeate her body. She took another sip, then another, before the worry pounding within her began to ease.
Drake thought he had her. Believed he had won. And though she could admit things didn’t look good for her, they looked even worse for Drake. He just didn’t know it yet.
As for Jessie Diamond, or rather, Jules Stone, things looked downright deadly.
Nora had to give the other woman credit. She had fooled her, and for a crafty woman like herself, that wasn’t easy to do. But Nora would have the last laugh. While Drake and Stone were scrambling to stay alive, Nora would be on a private beach drinking mojitos.
Yes, her career was trashed. She wouldn’t recover from this debacle. The presidency had been on her radar. She’d been working for that all her life. Others would take up the slack now. This wasn’t the way she wanted things
to end, but that was life—you rolled with the punches. She had learned to roll from the best.
When she’d told Drake there were more powerful people than Nora herself involved, she hadn’t been blowing smoke. No way this man could ever fathom just how high or how far all of this went.
They would be disappointed in her, that was a given. But she had done everything they’d asked of her. She’d given up any kind of life of her own to follow their edicts. They should have protected her better.
Certainly the debacle in Colombia was a black mark on her record, but she had done everything she could do to rectify her mistakes. Was it her fault that Drake had survived? Was it her fault he was as slippery as an eel, escaping death time after time?
No, they were the ones who’d screwed up. If they’d wanted to help, they could have taken Drake out years ago, before she’d started her political career. All of this was on them.
They knew she would never talk. Why would she when she would go to prison? Plus, she knew better than to betray them. They knew she was loyal. They knew they could trust her.
So why was she suddenly terrified?
Nora took another sip of her brandy. They would have to sort it all out without her. She had plans nobody knew about. They thought they knew everything, but there was no way they knew this. Even now, her private plane was being readied. Her luggage had already been transported. She had picked up many skills in her career, and hiding money, huge amounts of money, was one of them. She would never want for anything ever again.
They would never find her. No one would. A private little island in Greece. A couple of loyal staffers who would die before they betrayed her.
Maybe she would have plastic surgery. In a few years, she could be seen in public again. No one would know who she was. Maybe she would start dating. Finally have a social life, have some fun.
She would indeed have the last laugh.
Noting that her glass was empty, she reached for the bottle from the side table. How odd. Why were her fingers numb? Why was her mouth so dry? Why did she feel so dizzy?
Why…?
MERCILESS Page 29