Final Stand

by Lisa Phillips

  Dakota shrugged her shoulders. She looked so tense it probably hurt.

  Victoria sighed. “He really told you?”

  “Pin a man down at two in the morning and interrogate him, things tend to come out of his mouth that he wasn’t intending to say.”

  Victoria blinked. “Please tell me this isn’t how you plan on having a good marriage.”

  Dakota actually cracked a smile. It was short lived. “He might not walk.” She blew out a breath. “Josh might be paralyzed.”

  “What did they say?”

  “There’s so much swelling around his spine they literally have no idea. We have to wait and see.”

  Victoria wasn’t going to placate her with some pithy comment that sounded nice but didn’t mean anything. Dakota was processing her fear.

  By coming in here, mad at Victoria.

  Anger was easier to handle than fear.

  “Meanwhile you and Mark are banished to the friend zone because, what? He saved you. You should be grateful.”

  “You think I’m not?”

  “I think you don’t like being vulnerable.” Dakota raised one eyebrow. “Which is why you never told anyone about that. So don’t get all mad because he told me and Talia—”

  “Talia knows?” Never mind the fact that this woman was the epitome of that “pot calling the kettle black” saying, telling Victoria that she didn’t like being vulnerable. Like Dakota ever did herself.

  Dakota’s lips twitched.

  “You shouldn’t find other people’s struggles hilarious. It’s not nice.”

  “You know we didn’t give him any choice. Anyway, now it’s out. You can move on and get together.” Dakota shrugged. “You love his dog, apparently. So what’s the problem?”

  Victoria glanced at the tiny sink in the corner. The blank gray screen of the TV.

  There was so much to say, and yet she was having a hard time voicing any of it. She rested her head back on the pillow and shut her eyes. Maybe she’d be more on her game if she hadn’t been in that hallway right when Langdon had someone fire a grenade at the outside wall. Talia had filled her in on what happened, right before the cops had shown up to take her statement.

  Thankfully, no one except her and Josh were seriously hurt. The suspect and Mark both had minor injuries, not counting the suspect’s gunshot wound.

  Now they just had to heal.

  And find Langdon.

  “Strategic retreat. A classic technique.”

  Victoria shook her head, not opening her eyes yet. Mark had told them. They knew the guilt he lived with, despite the ruling. By the time he’d gotten home that day, the sheriff had been there. A neighbor had come over and found his father dead. Everyone just assumed he was drunk—confirmed by the autopsy—and had fallen and hit his head.

  No one knew she’d have to live with the memory of his hot breath on her neck. His hands.

  Or the realization that Mark had been there. That he’d seen it. That alone was worse than knowing he felt so guilty over his father’s death and knowing he’d only done it for her.

  “I don’t need this.” She’d just been blown up but that attack had hurt Dakota’s fiancé far worse than it did Victoria, so she exercised a little restraint and didn’t say all she wanted to say.

  “Deflecting with an attack. Another classic technique.”

  She glanced at Dakota. “What are you, a shrink?”

  “If I was, I’d stick with one client. You. And you’d be a lifetime case study.”

  Victoria wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. It was all out now. The whole team would know the worst about her, the fact she was to blame for Mark killing his father.

  She vividly remembered the day he told her he would have to explain it all to the FBI. He’d known the secret would come out somehow, and he’d been determined to be upfront about it. Fear like that, she didn’t like it. Never had and never would. Fear for the person she loved most in the world. That he would lose his dream.

  “Things are getting worse, not better.” The words were out before Victoria could pull them back.

  “With Mark, or Langdon?”

  Victoria shrugged one shoulder. “Jakeman should be here soon.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “You should probably go check on Josh.”

  “You think they’re not going to let me know when I can see him again?” She didn’t move from the seat.

  It hadn’t worked.

  Dakota said, “I want to know what Jakeman says. Whatever plan you guys come up with, I want in. This guy hurt the man I’m marrying, and he might not be able to walk down the aisle—” Her voice broke on the last word.

  “Dakota.”

  She lowered her head, then lifted her hand as she shook it. Victoria waited. When she had composed herself, Dakota said, “I have to believe he’ll be okay. And if he’s not, then we’ll deal. It’s not like either of us is going to walk away.”

  “I’ve been doing that, ‘dealing’ for years. It sucks, being stuck in the friend zone. Sometimes I just want to scream. But you can find the strength to carry on.” Victoria shrugged one shoulder. “Because what’s the alternative? You give up on what you want.”

  “I’m going to find somewhere to pray.”

  Victoria nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

  Dakota paused at the door. “Not because it’ll make me feel better, even though it probably will. It also moves the heart of God. Prayer can literally change a situation.”

  Victoria didn’t know what to say.

  “Maybe you should try it.”

  “Subtle.”

  Dakota tipped her head to the side. “It’s a gift.” She turned to leave with a smile, but someone was coming in at the same time. She started, then stepped around them.

  Jakeman walked in, shaking his head. “Nice friends. I think that one’s scared of me.”

  “I doubt it.” She knew Dakota better than that. “Her fiancé is the other one who was injured last night.”

  “And that man of yours…Mark? He didn’t seem happy I was coming in here while he was stuck out in the hallway.” He settled into the chair Dakota had just vacated.

  “I don’t really want to talk about Mark.” There was far too much to talk about, and she needed about a week of quiet time to process everything that had to do with him. She might have asked for him earlier, but that was to call in Jakeman. And now that the story was out, how was she going to face him? Everything was so close to the surface.

  Jakeman said, “Langdon, then.”

  She nodded. He’d tried to kill her. That meant everyone on the committee didn’t make a move without protection until he was behind bars, or dead. It meant the suspect knew something of value. Otherwise, Langdon wouldn’t have waited until she was in there with him to then open fire.

  “I’m shutting you down.” He leaned back in the chair like they were talking about the weather. “I have a team, they’ve been reassigned to get Langdon. You need to stand down now.”

  She sat up in the bed. “You’re benching me?”

  “They’ll find Langdon. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

  “Don’t need…” She sputtered, unable to say anything else when he was stripping away everything she had. Her team all worked for other people now. She couldn’t handle whatever was happening with Mark. At least until she figured out what she was going to do with it. How on earth was she supposed to deal with being taken off the case on top of everything else?

  It niggled at her to admit it, but right now she could kind of appreciate how Allyson must have felt. Victoria had been more than prepared to absorb Allyson’s search for her missing friend into her own FBI corruption case. She’d gotten the result she wanted, regardless.

  Which was exactly what Jakeman was doing right now.

  “Turnabout’s fair play and all that?” Jakeman lifted his chin. “Don’t even worry about it. I have the entire defense department behind me, and I’m going to employ every resource I have to fi
nd this guy before anyone else gets hurt.” He folded his arms. “End of story.”

  Victoria pressed her lips together and shook her head. “This is a federal case.”

  “I’ll clear it with the department of justice. When my guys find Langdon, no one will complain about a military operation on military soil. No one trusts the FBI right now. They can’t be left to bring in one of their own. A man who went unnoticed for years.”

  “Don’t do that. It’s not fair.”

  “You were leading the charge. Now’s not the time to change your tune.”

  Victoria said, “I’m not going to sit back.”

  “You will if you want to come out of this alive.”

  “Let Mark help. He needs to give Langdon to his boss, to make this right for the FBI.”

  “You know, when you told me to push for him as the new assistant director of Seattle FBI, I wasn’t sure. Now I know he’s good. Why else would you keep him around for so long?”

  “It isn’t—”

  “Has there ever been anyone else?”

  Victoria didn’t answer.

  “You know he was married.”

  “I sat in the back row.” That had been one of the worst days of her life. She didn’t count the day of Mark’s divorce on her “best days” list. That wouldn’t be fair. But she could admit she’d been relieved. Now they had each other again.

  What if things between them changed?

  What if Langdon was no longer a threat, she gave up her fear and they both got everything they’d ever wanted?

  “You need protection as much as I do.”

  He spread his hands out, palms facing her. “secretary of defense. Protection comes with the job. You, on the other hand… Is this guy going to keep you safe?”

  “I keep myself safe. Proof, I’m still alive aren’t I?”

  “You’ve got good friends.”

  “I know.” After all, Josh had thrown himself on her, weeks before his wedding, not knowing what would happen to him. Willing to give his life for her.

  “Drop this. Leave Langdon to me and get some rest.”

  Victoria lifted her chin and lied to his face. “Okay.”

  Chapter 22

  Seattle, Washington. Saturday 2.23p.m.

  “Ready?”

  The FBI director looked over, blank-faced from his study of the computer monitor at Mark’s desk.

  “We’re all set.”

  The director stood. He smoothed down his tie and lifted his suit jacket from the hook, shrugging it on. Mark led him to the interrogation room where the suspect had been brought up from Portland for questioning.

  He didn’t like the fact Victoria hadn’t been released, and he’d had to leave. She was due to be checked out of the hospital later today, and Niall had strict orders to bring her up to Seattle to his house when she got out.

  Mark had figured making it sound like a direct order increased the chance they would all do what he said. It was worth a try, at least.

  They stepped into the viewing room. Through the glass, two men were settling into chairs across from their suspect. One was Mason, Talia’s fiancé and the head of the Secret Service in Seattle. The other was the US attorney.

  “Mr. Bakemeister, I’m Assistant Director Mason Anderson with the Secret Service. This is William Zane, he’s the US attorney who will ultimately decide what charges are brought against you.”

  Trevor Bakemeister. That was his name? Mark studied the man they’d found in the art gallery, heading for the safe that had held nothing. He looked considerably more worn than he had last night. Pale-faced, dark circles under his eyes. His arm was now in a sling, taking the weight off the gunshot wound in his arm. Tiny strips of white held the edges of the gash on his temple together.

  He looked like Mark honestly felt, even with the few hours of sleep he’d managed to snatch up before coming here.

  “FBI?”

  Mark shook his head at the director’s question. “The first one we’ve brought in who is connected to Langdon, but not an agent.”

  He made a “huh” sound but went quiet as Mason began the interrogation. Considering all the FBI had gone through recently, they figured it was better to outsource this. They were chasing one of their own. Making it an interagency investigation was better for PR. They weren’t afraid of what shook loose in the course of things. They wanted transparency.

  Trevor shrugged. “Whatcha want from me?”

  “The issue here,” Mason said, “is what you want. To spend your whole life in federal prison for all kinds of conspiracy to commit “this” and attempted “that”? Or the alternative.”

  Mark almost smiled. Mason wasn’t the kind of federal agent who investigated criminal activity. Mark had brushed him up on a few things, as had the US attorney. Mark wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t be able to pull this off. It wasn’t his fault he was only a Secret Service agent.

  The US attorney, William Zane, opened a file on the table. He slid a photo across the surface so Trevor could look at it. “This is Colin Pinton. You might know him as Oscar Langdon. He’s someone we’re very interested in finding.”

  “You think I know him?” Trevor shrugged.

  “This man blew up a hallway you were standing in,” Mason pointed out. “He holds no loyalty to you. It’s in your best interest, here and now, that you return that favor.”

  Trevor’s expression didn’t change. He seemed determined to hold whatever he knew close, as Mark had seen many suspects do for years. Whether that was the right thing to do wasn’t something they usually considered. Nor was the fact that a lawyer was likely a better idea than not. This man would hold his own counsel.

  “I tell you what I know, I go free?”

  Zane shifted in his seat. “The break you receive on these considerable charges you’ve managed to rack up will depend on the extent of the information you give us.”

  The director said, “You think he knows where Langdon is right now?”

  Mark shrugged one shoulder while he watched Trevor think it through. “We got nothing from his phone so far, right?” Talia hadn’t found much of anything that would get them a location on Langdon. The man was the most slippery criminal he’d ever gone after. “We don’t have a lot unless Trevor here gives it to us. Langdon has a nuke, or at least has all the parts to put one together, and we have no idea where he’ll use it or what the time frame might be.”

  A thought occurred to him. Before he could voice it, the director said, “A scientist.”

  Mark pulled out his phone and unlocked it. “Someone who knows how to put it all together and get it set up so Langdon can use it.” He typed out an email to Talia that necessitated he copy several people who needed to be part of the loop. Then he stowed his phone and focused back on what Trevor and Mason were talking about.

  “…idea where he is.”

  “Maybe,” Mason said. “But you might know something you don’t know that you know. So run it all down for us, everything Langdon said and did, and we’ll tell you if we think it’s important.”

  Trevor made a face. “I’m not one of your crooked FBI agents.”

  Zane said, “No, you’re a wanted thief, suspected in the murder of a museum security guard in Washington D.C.”

  Trevor worked his jaw side to side.

  “Didn’t think we knew about that, did you?” Zane probably had a smug look on his face, but Mark could only see the back of his head through the window. “It won’t go well for you, getting tied up with a ten-most-wanted terrorist. You think being associated with Langdon is something you want to leave a jury to wonder about? You’re better off bringing everything out into the light.”

  Mark agreed with that. If Trevor offered conclusive proof he’d done a job for Langdon, but had no ongoing association with him, then it would be hard for the US attorney to make a case over his involvement in the man’s organization, or group of associates and friends. He needed to distance himself from Langdon and the fallout of whatever he had planned.


  Mason said, “You sold Oscar Langdon a chip. He’s going to use that chip to set off a nuclear device that will kill thousands, if not more. Care to be an accessory to a terrorist attack, or you want to stick with the burglary and whatever you get for setting off an explosion at the research facility?”

  Trevor sputtered. “It’s a guidance chip. It’s—” His face washed pale. “Oh, God.”

  “I find in these situations that prayer is an excellent idea.” Mason said, “However, we are running out of time. Where is Langdon, and where is he going to set off that bomb?”

  Trevor leaned back in his chair, head tipped back, and ran his hands down his face. “You can’t think I have something to do with this. I’m not part of it, I have nothing to do with Langdon.”

  “So tell me how to find him,” Mason suggested. “Get this guy out of your life before he ruins it even further.”

  Trevor blew out a breath. “You think I know where he is? I have an email. I get requests, and I respond to what I want. I do the jobs I want.”

  “And you wanted to do Langdon’s?”

  “It was good money.”

  Mason said, “You’re going to destroy the rest of your life over a paycheck?”

  “I’ve got one skill, okay?”

  Zane motioned to the file. “We know. Your rap sheet clearly indicates your drive to steal whatever you want for that paycheck. But it’s not good money, and it never will be.”

  Trevor mashed his lips together.

  Mason said, “There are ways to be one of the good guys, even if this is your skill set.” He paused a moment so that could sink in, then continued, “We need access to your email account.”

  It would be a miracle if Talia could get a location on Langdon, or anything that could lead them to one, from an email address. He’d gone on for this long, active under the radar—he had to have a way to distance himself from communications that could potentially expose him.

  Langdon had been an FBI agent until recently. He knew how they thought. He knew what they looked for, and how they undertook investigations.