by CW Browning
“Has anyone heard from Lina?” she asked, looking from one to the other. “Is she okay?”
“She came back last night,” Michael said, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “She seemed fine.”
“She’s here?”
“No.” Damon moved over to the bar with his coffee. “She left early this morning.”
Stephanie frowned and turned to put two waffles into the toaster oven on the counter.
“Now where did she go? I swear that woman never sits still for more than ten minutes.” She opened a cabinet door and pulled out a plate, then went back for a mug. “When she gets back, I’m going to put another tracker on her, but this time I’ll stick it in her shoe!”
“Somehow I don’t think that will do much good,” Michael murmured, pulling his coffee out from under the spout and taking a sip. “Remember what happened last time.”
Stephanie made a face and moved past him to put her mug under the machine.
“Lord knows it’s the only way I’ll know what she’s up to anymore,” she said. “It’s not like she’s telling me anything.”
Michael glanced at Damon and moved out of the kitchen, heading for the dining room table.
“I think that’s for your own piece of mind,” he said over his shoulder.
Stephanie snorted. “Nothing’s going to make me feel better about any of this, so she might as well just lay it on me.”
“You wouldn’t like that,” Damon murmured. “Trust me.”
The sliding door opened then, and Buddy came bounding back into the house with Blake close behind.
“It’s a great morning out there,” he announced, closing the door. “I saw the Porsche in the driveway. Alina’s back?”
“She was, but she’s gone out again,” Stephanie said. She looked at Damon. “If the Porsche is there, what did she take?”
“The Range Rover. We switched cars,” he answered. He didn’t tell her it was because Alina needed the space for a large bird of prey in a carrier. What Stephanie didn’t know, she couldn’t worry over. “The Porsche is better for me today.”
“Where are you going?” Blake asked, heading into the kitchen to get a mug. “Need company?”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Stephanie said, pulling her mug out and moving aside so Blake could get to the coffee maker. “If I have to stay stuck in this house, so do you.”
“She’s right. You both have to stay hidden until Harry’s taken care of,” Damon said, finishing his coffee. “Sorry.”
Blake pressed his lips together in displeasure, but remained silent as he set his mug under the coffee spout and pressed the button to brew.
“Any word on the Sea Queen?” Damon asked, standing and walking over to the dishwasher to put his mug in.
“She’s off the coast of Georgia,” Blake said, turning to look at him. “As far as anyone can tell, she’s just coasting in international waters. I want to contact the Coast Guard and work with them to keep an eye on her, but without a good reason, that’s not going to happen. And we don’t have a good reason.”
“We don’t even have a not good reason,” Stephanie muttered, pulling her waffles out of the toaster oven and dropping them onto her plate quickly. “We’ve got nothing except a bunch of circumstantial leads that really point to nothing.”
“I did see something interesting last night before I went to bed,” Blake said, grabbing the box of waffles off the kitchen island and pulling out the sleeve. “Something’s going on in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania.”
Damon closed the dishwasher and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”
“It looks like war is breaking out in the gangs.” Blake put two waffles in the toaster oven and closed the door, turning it on. “Over twenty gang members were killed yesterday alone.”
“How is that interesting?” Michael asked from the dining room. “Gang members are killed all the time.”
“All the ones killed had affiliations with the Casa Reinos,” Blake said. “It’s almost like they’re being targeted, but we’re not sure who would have the balls to do that. Certainly not the other gangs.”
Damon’s lips tightened slightly and he turned to leave the kitchen.
“My bet would be on Solitto’s crew,” he said, moving toward the back door.
“Frankie?” Stephanie repeated, carrying her waffles and coffee to the bar. “I don’t know if he has that kind of reach anymore.”
“He does if he’s gotten the other Families involved,” Blake said slowly. “Between the New York Family and Bobby Reyes’, they have a pretty substantial army. And this wouldn’t be the first time the cartel has threatened Solitto’s business.”
“That’s true,” Stephanie admitted, sipping her coffee before setting the mug down and turning back toward the fridge. “I’ll bet Lina knows something about it. I don’t care what she says, she’s more involved with Frankie than she admits. The head of the Jersey Family doesn’t just call you over for a meeting after he sees you on the casino floor for no reason.”
“When she gets back, we’ll ask her,” Blake said with a shrug, pulling his mug out and lifting it to his lips. He paused in the act of taking a sip. “When is she coming back? And where did she go, anyway?”
Silence greeted that, and Stephanie paused with a container of spreadable butter in her hand, looking across the kitchen and bar at Damon. He had his hand on the back door, but he stopped at Blake’s question. Michael looked up from his coffee and watched as he hesitated, then turned around reluctantly.
“She caught a flight out of Northeast Philly at seven.”
“A flight?” Stephanie’s mouth dropped open. “Is she insane?! Harry’s got people everywhere looking for her and she went to an airport and got on a plane?”
Michael was staring at Damon and he slowly shook his head.
“She’s too smart for that,” he said. “She knows the security at airports will feed her location straight to Colonel Shore. What was it? A private plane?”
Damon’s blue eyes met his and his lips curved faintly. “Well done, gunny,” he murmured.
“A private plane out of Philly International?” Stephanie demanded. “Even so, it’s still too big of a risk.”
“Not Philly International,” Damon corrected her. “Philly Northeast. It’s a smaller airport.”
Michael nodded. “Good choice.”
“Why is she flying anywhere?” Stephanie carried the butter and a knife over to the bar and sank down on a stool. “How far away did she have to go that she couldn’t drive? And when is she coming back?”
When Damon didn’t answer, she turned on the stool to look at him in apprehension. He met her stare impassively and her lips parted on a silent gasp.
“Oh my God. She’s not coming back, is she?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Blake said, looking from Stephanie to Damon. “Of course she’s coming back. She wouldn’t leave you alone here unless...”
He stopped abruptly and stared hard at Damon.
“Why are you still here if she’s out there?” he demanded. “You swore to Stephanie that you would be with her.”
“And I will.”
“That’s where you’re going?!” Stephanie cried, throwing the butter knife down on the bar. “It’s happening? She found Angela?”
Damon nodded. “She’s on the Sea Queen.”
Blake’s eyebrows soared into his forehead and he slowly set his coffee down on the bar.
“How do you know?”
“We got satellite footage of her being carried aboard.”
“Just like that? You pulled satellite footage that quickly?” Michael demanded. “Hell, I can’t even pull satellite images that fast, and I’m Secret Service!”
Damon shot him an amused look. “We’re a little higher up on the food chain.”
Michael snorted. “You mean your mysterious boss is.”
“Then we know Angie’s on the yacht?” Stephanie asked, her voic
e raising an octave.
“Yes.”
“Now we have a good reason to call the Coast Guard in,” Blake pointed out. “We can get her back without risking Alina!”
Damon smiled faintly. “Oh, I wish it were that simple. There’s a reason they’re coasting in international waters.”
Blake waved that away impatiently. “We can still pull jurisdiction. We do it all the time in the Caribbean.”
“Trust me, it won’t work this time,” Damon told him, “not with Harry onboard. Besides, if anyone other than Viper approaches that yacht, Angela is as good as dead.”
Stephanie’s face paled. “What?”
“You don’t know that,” Blake argued.
Damon shrugged.
“If you want to risk it, by all means, go ahead,” he told him. “Keep in mind, though, Harry doesn’t like loose ends, especially ones like Angela.”
Blake’s jaw tightened and he glanced at Stephanie’s white face.
“Then what’s the plan?” he asked after a moment of silence.
Damon looked from one to the other.
“You both stay here and stay out of it,” he said bluntly. “That’s the only plan you need to know.”
Jack glanced at his watch and looked up as his assistant knocked once and then opened his office door.
“Sir?”
“Get Rear Admiral Jessup on the line,” Jack told him briskly, sliding his laptop into a leather briefcase, “and call the car around. Do you keep an overnight bag with you here?”
“Yes, sir.” His assistant glanced at the briefcase. “Where are we going?”
“Scotland.” Jack looked up. “Faslane, to be exact.”
“Yes, sir.” He turned to leave. “I’ll get the Admiral on the line now.”
Jack nodded and watched as the door closed behind the younger man. Jones really was a saint. He didn’t seem even remotely discomposed by the news that they were off to Scotland at a moment’s notice.
Snapping the briefcase closed, he lifted it off his desk and set it on the floor before turning to stride across his office to the large filing cabinet on the opposite wall. He pulled a set of keys out from his pocket and unlocked the second drawer, opening it all the way to pull a file folder from the back.
“Sir, I have the Admiral on line two,” Jones spoke through the intercom.
“Thank you.” Jack closed the drawer and locked it again, carrying the folder back to his desk. He dropped it onto the surface and sat down, reaching for the phone. “Terry, is that you?”
“One and the same,” a cheerful voice answered. “How are you, Jack?”
“Keeping busy. How’s the weather up there?”
“Chilly, but clear and sunny.” Terry paused. “Am I right in assuming that you’re calling in regards to the directive I just received from London?”
“Yes,” Jack said, sitting back in his chair. “This morning I took a call from Washington. They requested our assistance.”
Terry snorted inelegantly. “Requested?”
Jack grinned. Terry’s views on their allies across the pond were very well-known by anyone who had ever come into contact with him.
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve extended my personal guarantee that it will be handled with the utmost speed. Will there be an issue with that?”
Terry sighed heavily.
“No. I have a boat that’s already been alerted and sent the coordinates,” he said. “They can be in position in six hours.”
“Excellent. I’m leaving within the half hour. I’ll be there by tea time.”
“You’re flying up?” Terry was surprised. “It’s that important, then?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Jack glanced at his watch again. “We’ll talk when I get there.”
“Well, my day just became significantly more interesting. Is Jones coming with you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll make reservations for dinner. While you’re here, you really must try this new restaurant that opened. The lamb is outstanding.”
“That just might make up for Jones not having advance notice,” Jack said with a short laugh. “We’ll see you soon.”
Jack hung up and flipped open the folder on his desk. He studied the neat columns of numbers in front of him and turned the pages in the file until he came to the last page of figures. Turning his eyes to the monitor on the desk, he reached for his mouse and clicked open the attachment Charlie had forwarded to him a few minutes before. While he had been expecting a call from Washington after his conversation with the enigmatic Maggie yesterday, he had been surprised when it came from a man whom, until today, he hadn’t known existed. If it weren’t for the other man on the call, whom Jack knew well, he would have been inclined to question the authority of the mysterious Charlie.
The conference call lasted a grand total of nine minutes, but that was ample time for him to realize that Charlie was no fly-by-night desk jockey. Suddenly, Jack had a better idea of just who Maggie worked for, and why her very existence had been impossible to trace since she pulled him out of the ground in Afghanistan last fall.
Staring at his monitor now, Jack skimmed over the excel spreadsheet before looking back to the file on his desk. His lips tightened and he looked more closely at the columns of figures, glancing back to the excel sheet after a moment. Finding the same amounts listed, he sat back in his chair and stared at the screen thoughtfully.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured to himself. “She was right.”
“Sir, the car is downstairs.” Jones interrupted his stunned reverie and Jack glanced at his watch swiftly.
“Thank you.”
He pulled a flash drive from his desk drawer and plugged it into the USB port on his tower, copying the excel sheet onto the external drive before powering down his system. He reached for his briefcase again, sliding the folder and the flash drive into it.
Maggie had certainly delivered. Now, it was his turn to return the favor.
Viper glanced at her watch and took one last look around the nearly deserted cemetery. She was running out of time. There was no sign of surveillance and no indication of anything out of the ordinary. As risky as it was, if she was going to do it, now was the time.
She moved from behind an ancient oak tree and glanced at the park bench a few feet away. Her chest tightened as she remembered a man sitting on it in the rain. It had been a lifetime now, since John sat on that very bench and watched the parade of women come to pay their respects at her brother’s tomb. Pressing her lips together, she moved along the path away from the vantage point overlooking Dave’s final resting place. John had been looking for her, unwilling to let her walk out of their lives forever without a word. Now, he was dead, and she was about to do that very thing to Stephanie and Angela.
Alina made her way through the cemetery and towards Dave’s grave, her eyes alert and watchful behind very large, dark glasses. She was dressed in trendy jeans, a Washington Redskins jacket and a baseball cap. The over-sized glasses covered most of her face and she walked with a faint swagger that decreased her height by a full inch. If she had missed anything in her preliminary sweep of the cemetery, she wasn’t very worried. The likelihood of anyone but Harry himself recognizing her was nonexistent. And she knew he wasn’t watching. He was already aboard the Sea Queen. He had flown out to the yacht on a chartered helicopter just after midnight.
She tucked her hands into her jacket pockets and lowered her head as she walked, her senses tuned for the slightest change in her surroundings that would indicate a threat. It was just past six, and she had landed two hours before. It had been a whirlwind of activity to get here. The private flight out of Philly left precisely at seven, and she was driving through the abandoned wilds of Oklahoma by ten-thirty with Raven’s cage in the back of her rented SUV. After introducing him to his new home and making sure the skylight in Damon’s bedroom was acceptable, Alina ate lunch in Damon’s large and sunny kitchen, watching as Raven surveyed the area from atop one
of the many smaller buildings on the ranch. When she walked out the back door with a cup of coffee in her hand, Raven flew down to land on the banister surrounding the porch. She spent the next twenty minutes with him before reluctantly getting back into the SUV. Her last sight of Raven was him soaring high above the ranch, surveying the new territory.
Landing in Washington, DC a few hours later, Viper went straight to the storage unit she kept in the heart of the city. Everything she needed was there, and it was half an hour later that she’d left and headed for Arlington. Her side trip was reckless, a fact that she acknowledged now as she strode toward the row of uniform grave stones where Dave’s final resting place was located. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have taken the time or the risk to come here.
Stepping off the pavement and onto the perfectly manicured grass, Alina’s lips tightened again. Logically, she shouldn’t be here, but it was a trip she had to make for herself. Approaching Dave’s headstone, she sighed silently, casting one last look around from behind her glasses. No one was in sight. Dropping her eyes to Dave’s grave, she took a deep breath and bent down to crouch before it.
“Hey you,” she murmured softly, staring at his name and rank etched into the marble. “I know it’s been a while. I’ve been busy and haven’t been able to get here. Remember that mess you got yourself tangled up with in Iraq? Now I’m tangled up in it, too. But don’t worry. I’m going to finish it, once and for all.”
Alina paused, then swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Michael will be helping, so rest easy knowing that he held up his end of the promise to you. He’s been a huge help. He’s good people, but I guess you knew that.” She cleared her throat as her vision blurred, and she blinked the tears back impatiently. “A lot of good people have been dragged into this mess, and a lot of them haven’t made it out alive. I know you had no idea what you were starting back then, but holy hell did you open a Pandora’s box.”
Alina paused again and cast a swift glance around once more. Seeing nothing, she turned her gaze back to the silent, cold stone before her. She took a deep, steadying breath and embraced the anger deep inside her, allowing it to force away the pain and sorrow.