Final Stand

by Lisa Phillips

He slipped in the door and sat at the far end of the table. The director glanced over at him, but none of the rest of them understood the significance of him being here. They probably thought he was just observing as the normal course of his job.

  The police captain set a voice recorder in the center of the table and everyone introduced themselves so it would be on record. If Mark hadn’t been the assistant director of this office, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed to stay.

  He looked up from his notepad, resisting the urge to tap his pen on the paper, and looked at the police captain. No way was he going to look at Victoria. Despite the fact she’d glanced at him, he wasn’t going to reassure her. That wasn’t why he was present for her being questioned.

  She of all people understood the fact that being a professional trumped whatever interpersonal thing they had going on. And even though he wanted to talk privately—and probably heatedly—with her right now, this took precedent.

  The captain said, “Ms. Bramlyn, your fingerprints were found in your grandfather’s apartment, along with signs of a struggle. Now he’s missing.”

  Victoria said, “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  Mark pressed his lips together. Being belligerent wasn’t going to get her very far.

  The captain exhaled through his nose, a quick sniff of disapproval.

  “Of course my fingerprints were there. I visit frequently.”

  “There’s no record of you traveling to Florida. Anywhere.”

  Victoria said, “The dictates of my position, as well as my career history, necessitate that I do certain things…under the radar.”

  He glanced at his phone and thumbed the screen. “Is that so? And the struggle?”

  “I left the culprit tied up in a shed. The detectives released him, despite the fact he clearly had information as to my grandfather’s whereabouts.”

  “Clearly.”

  “He told me, himself, a few days later, that Oscar Langdon and my grandfather had gone drinking, after which Langdon likely killed him and then buried his body somewhere.”

  The Captain’s eyebrows rose. “Oscar Langdon.”

  She lifted her chin. “Also known as FBI Special Agent Colin Pinton.”

  “You cannot be—”

  The director cut him off. “She is, in fact, correct. Langdon is an FBI agent, or he was.”

  The captain frowned. “So a known terrorist likely kidnaps and kills your grandfather, and you’re spending your time at a park in Seattle. Enjoying a relaxing Saturday night.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Oscar Langdon is an FBI agent, so I’m going to concede that point.” He blew out a breath.

  The two detectives didn’t look all that impressed, mostly with Mark and his boss. Victoria was an unknown component. Mark figured they had basically no clue who she was. Whether they would eventually get the whole story was something else entirely.

  He prayed they never wound up in a position where she owed them anything. He’d saved her life, and in return? She had manipulated his, gained him a promotion just so she could position him within her committee in order for it to be as effective as it possibly could be. Was he glad that dirty FBI agents had been exposed? Of course. Did he wish she’d used someone else to do that work? Also, of course.

  Mark knew he couldn’t have the good without the bad in anything. It was a trade-off. Always. He just wished Victoria’s actions in his life didn’t feel so much like he’d been a pawn in some game he didn’t have the clearance to know about.

  “Langdon is manipulating all of you,” she said. “He’s orchestrating this because I won’t leave him alone. This is a setup.”

  “Why does he care about you?”

  “Because I’m a thorn in his side.” She stood up, making every cop in the room flinch toward his gun. She lifted one side of her shirt. “And I won’t die.”

  When they’d all gotten a half-decent look at her bandage, she sat back down. “Langdon has a nuke, and we believe he’s going to use it.”

  “Where?” the Captain barked.

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting in a park with the intention of drawing him out so we can arrest him when he tries to kill me.”

  The captain blinked.

  Welcome to my world. Mark said, “Do you have any idea where your grandfather is right now?”

  She turned to him. “No.”

  “What about Langdon, anything you can give us that will help us find him?”

  He saw her flinch, though it was only a slight flex of the skin around her eyes. “No.”

  There was more to that answer, he knew. Mark didn’t wait for her to elaborate. He told the room, “I have people looking into scientists with the know-how to put the components of the nuke together.”

  His director said, “Assuming Langdon didn’t already get it put together.”

  Mark shrugged. “We can assume because he hasn’t used it yet, that it’s either not ready or he’s waiting for something else.”

  The police captain said something. Mark was only half listening, arrested by the look on Victoria’s face. As though she’d just realized something.

  Mark didn’t know what that was. He said, “Ms. Bramlyn needs to be out looking for Langdon, not answering questions about a man who doesn’t deserve the kindness of her looking for him.” He shrugged, realizing he’d revealed his personal knowledge of her grandfather and the kind of man he was. “Especially not when we’re looking at a present threat.”

  The needs of the many outweighed the needs of one man—one who was probably already dead. Yes, Mark would stand beside her if the time came to bury him. But the fact was, he’d never liked the guy, and he never would. He wouldn’t be the one grieving, and it was entirely up to her what she did with the knowledge that he was still missing and presumed dead.

  Victoria wasn’t a bad person. Otherwise their lives would have gone much differently. He never had to wonder if she might turn, or go bad. There was no way. He knew her too well, even before she had all that spy training. She might keep a lot from him, but she never lied.

  What he didn’t know was what she was capable of. No one did, until they were pushed to those circumstances. What extent would she go to in order to stop an attack and bring Langdon in?

  They were learning what Langdon was capable of. The lengths he would go.

  How far would Victoria have to go in the pursuit of stopping him?

  “I appreciate your help on that.” Her soft voice jolted him from his rambling thoughts.

  Mark said, “I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it.” That meant FBI business, and an FBI investigation to find and stop one of their own. Not going off with her old team on missions she deemed were necessary.

  She jerked in her seat. It actually looked like she’d been hit.

  Victoria was the one who lived her life confident in her ability to walk away free at any time. She probably thought the same, even about this situation. Mark, however, was going to be the one who did it—who walked away. They were done. He didn’t want to be manipulated anymore, no matter that he entirely agreed with her aim. One hundred percent, no question. She absolutely should have formed that committee and gone after Langdon. He’d seen in her in that prison, so he wasn’t going to argue.

  And having an ally who worked over at the Seattle office of the FBI was probably invaluable to her cause.

  He just didn’t much like it that he’d been the one maneuvered.

  “One more thing before we call this meeting to an end.” The director of the FBI turned in his chair and pinned Victoria with a stare. “Just one thing, so we can all leave knowing you have nothing to do with Langdon except wanting to stop him.”

  Victoria braced. He saw her do it, like she knew what was coming and needed to prepare.

  “Langdon’s people have a tattoo on their arm. Inside, forearm.”

  She pulled up her sleeve to reveal…nothing. Mark had never seen a tattoo.

  “It�
��s ultraviolet. So we’ll need a special light.” He got up and moved to a table in the corner, coming back with a thing that looked like a cross between a flashlight and a handheld document scanner.

  The director grabbed Victoria’s hand. His knuckles went white with the force of his grip.

  Mark stood. “Sir.”

  Victoria stared hard at his boss as he flipped on the light and moved it over the skin of her arm.

  And stopped.

  “I guess we have our answer.”

  “That’s not—”

  The director interrupted her protest. “I want this woman taken down to holding.”

  Chapter 25

  Seattle, WA. Saturday 10.47p.m.

  Okay, this was just ridiculous. Victoria shot to her feet. “Mark!”

  He was already halfway to the door while the rest of the men in the room stood as though she was the enemy combatant they needed to restrain. Detain. She wasn’t the enemy here. Clearly all of this was nothing but a distraction. Langdon looking for ways to slow them down and get them running around, dealing with other things rather than the search for him.

  “I’ll leave you to this,” the police captain said. “Seems like you have your hands full.” He shot her a disapproving look.

  Fact was, if she’d wanted her grandfather dead, she would probably have done it a long time ago.

  No, that wasn’t true. Even though Mark was right, that he had treated her horribly, she’d also never actually killed anyone on purpose. Neither did she intend to.

  He walked out with his detectives, leaving her with the FBI director and Mark, who had stepped to the side for the cops to leave and now turned to the door again.

  “Mark.”

  He turned back from the door, his face strategically blank and giving nothing away. Least of all any feeling. She hated that look on his face.

  “You know I don’t work with Langdon. He put this on me before South Africa.” She flexed her arm. “That’s what I don’t remember.” She had to take a breath. “I woke up in prison with it.”

  “You were in prison?” The director’s question resonated in her.

  There wasn’t the time to explain it all to him, though she figured she’d be forced to. Probably through hours of questioning. Hours they didn’t have.

  Victoria clenched down on her back teeth. She didn’t care what the director thought of her. All she cared about was Mark’s opinion, and he was giving her nothing. “Langdon is still playing me, hedging his bets, and finding any and every way to take me out. To stop me from ruining his plans by finding that nuke.”

  “But he didn’t kill you years ago, and he could have.”

  “Genevieve asked him not to.” She had considered the woman a friend, and it had been reciprocated. Right up until Genevieve pulled that gun on her and the sergeant had been forced to take her out. Victoria always took the action that would get the result, regardless of her feelings. She couldn’t do what felt good, because that didn’t guarantee success. Nor did comfort.

  She said, “Langdon is out there, and he’s going to use that nuke as soon as he can.”

  Mark nodded. “We’re pushing to find him, but we also need as much information as we can get.”

  What did he mean by that? Did he think she was hiding something?

  The director said, “Obviously you’ve been working with Langdon this whole time. It’s why you have so much sway, from paying off key people and doing whatever you want with no oversight.”

  Maybe he thought Mark was one of the people she’d “paid off.” She might not mind a little discomfort personally, if it got the result she needed, but she didn’t want Mark’s life to be harder because of her. She wouldn’t do that to him.

  Not after what he’d done for her.

  Back when Victoria joined the CIA, she’d told them the whole story as Mark had told the FBI. The police report listed it as an accidental death. But the people who needed to know had the full story. She couldn’t have risked being in a situation she shouldn’t be in—all because she hadn’t disclosed the whole story. Victoria had triggers. She also had hard limits on what she would and wouldn’t do as a spy. It might make her a tough case, but she’d more than made up for that with closures.

  The bad guys she’d brought in.

  The assets she’d found.

  The lives saved.

  “I’m the one who brought Langdon to you.” She turned to face the director. “I’m the one who brought all of this to light. The connection. The corruption in your agency. Langdon is a special agent, and you had no idea. Your people never saw it until I read you in.”

  The director didn’t like that much. Too bad he needed to realize who held the power here. He sniffed. “You can defend yourself all you want, that tattoo says you’re one of Langdon’s people.”

  “It was put on me while I was unconscious. It’s Langdon’s insurance policy that he can do exactly this.” She pointed her finger at the table. “And it comes to light now, when we’re so close to finding him? You don’t find that suspicious?”

  “Are you close?” the director said. “Seems to me like we still have no idea where Langdon is, and no idea when or where he’s going to use the nuke.”

  Like that was the point? Victoria wanted to cry out her frustration. A guy like this would only think her offensive actions were the result of being an emotional woman, who would then dismiss her as being—probably—in love with Oscar Langdon. Because clearly a woman in a relationship couldn’t think objectively.

  “We are close.” Mark waved his phone. “We’ve found a report of a missing scientist with the skills to build a nuke out of the parts Langdon has. Now we need to find out where he’s been taken. A fresh case, with fresh leads. One that will lead us right to Langdon and the weapon he has.”

  The director mushed his lips together.

  “Tell me,” she said, “why you see any advancement of anything Mark Welvern is trying to do as an affront to you, instead of a win for the whole FBI?”

  “We don’t all have powerful people in high positions to put in a good word for us.”

  She glanced at Mark and saw the muscle in his jaw twitch at the director’s statement. He knew. She saw it. He knew what she’d done.

  He knew.

  Mark folded his arms.

  “I needed an ally. Someone I can trust.” She wanted to move closer to him, to touch his elbows and implore him to believe her. To see the truth in her words. “There’s only one of those in the world.”

  “Kind of handy that I’m an FBI agent. Talk about right place at the right time.”

  “You’re the one who believes in God.” She’d even thought about that. Considered it one of those “God things” her team talked about. They all believed now. With Mark having the same faith, she’d felt left out.

  But knowing she was going to go it alone made it easier to focus on the task at hand, catching Langdon.

  He said nothing.

  “I’m going to have a couple of agents escort you down to holding. You’ll be there until we’re ready to question you.”

  A power play by the director. She was used to men like him flexing their muscles. Proving that the woman was clearly emotional enough to betray the oath. Never mind that nearly all of the corrupt FBI agents they’d uncovered thus far had been men.

  And what about the director? Seemed to Victoria that if Langdon wanted the search delayed, then it stood to reason having a key player in a position pull those strings furthered his end.

  She’d have to get Talia to take a deeper look into this man.

  Victoria turned to Mark. “Call Jakeman.” When he didn’t move or change expression, or even say anything, she added, “Please.”

  Finally he nodded. “You’ll need a lawyer.”

  “I don’t want a lawyer. I want to know that he and General Hurst are safe.”

  The director butted in. “Because your actions have put them at risk?”

  “I’ve done nothing but what I wa
s asked to do in order to keep this country safe.” Her hands curled into fists by her sides. Victoria didn’t bother trying to calm down. “Why do you think Langdon has been trying to kill me?”

  The idea she was working with one of their ten most wanted criminals was ridiculous. Mark should know her better than that.

  The director referred back to his file. “In what capacity? All I can see here is that you’ve been employed by the State Department for—”

  “Long enough I should have retired already.”

  “Years working in…records.” As though using that tone was significant in downplaying her role, which the director apparently had no idea about. “Then all of a sudden, you’re promoted to director level. Probably had someone put in a good word for you, right?”

  “I don’t have to explain my resume to someone who doesn’t have the clearance to know. But I’ll tell you this.” She lifted her chin. “The majority of the work I did in records is redacted.”

  The director made a face, as though he’d tasted something sour. “The CIA? Seriously?”

  “For the record, I never said that. I’m a state department director and as such will not be going to one of your holding cells. I’ll be afforded the respect I’ve earned, director. You know nothing about me. But you still insist on being a dog with a bone, gnawing away while the house is on fire.”

  She glanced at Mark and saw a tiny glimmer of humor in his eyes. It didn’t reach his face, though.

  “I’ll step out for a moment,” he said. “I don’t have director-level clearance, and I need to make a call.”

  A breath of fear moved through her, worry over Jakeman. The man wielded a considerable amount of power in his position. He commanded troops and had protection. She still worried whether he was safe.

  Victoria had long ago come to terms with the fact that the fatherly affection he felt for her was similar to the feelings she had for him. She loved his wife, but Mary Anne was all about her role in society and the charities she fundraised for. Victoria was way too boots-on-the-ground. Their daughter, the one she’d rescued, had a fiancé and was doing well, had moved on with her life. Jakeman had become a friend. Then an ally and a colleague. At times he had filled the empty position of father in her life. Something that was about mutual respect.