The Traitor's Pawn

by Lisa Harris

  “So, what happens now?” she asked, stopping at the edge of the pier.

  “We’ll go back to the office and see exactly what kind of deal your father is wanting to make.”

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, there were six officers sitting in the FBI conference room while Bree gave her statement. Someone had brought in a box of donuts, but it was still at the end of the table, unopened. They were all too intent on her story. As far as Jack could tell, none of the agents sitting around the long table were convinced that Charles Ramsey was an innocent victim who instead of being a traitor was really a patriot. The idea was ridiculous.

  “Do you know where he was holding you?” Adam asked.

  “On a boat. I could see the oil rig to the east, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not there anymore.”

  “So you have no idea where he is at this time?”

  “No,” Bree said.

  Agent Brewster leaned forward. “I’m not convinced of his innocence, but his story is worth looking into. I spoke to the reporter who leaked Christiansen’s death. Ramsey’s name was given to him by an anonymous source, not the authorities.”

  “Your father didn’t kill him,” Jack said. “We received the coroner’s report. He’s ruling the death a suicide.”

  “You think it could have been Rachel who leaked to the press?” Bree asked.

  “If she’s trying to frame your father, it would make sense.”

  “The bottom line is that he wants the FBI to raid an exchange between him and his handlers,” Brewster said. “What does he want for that?”

  “He wants to get the Chinese and the Russians off his back. For them to think he’s going to prison for treason while he disappears.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Jack held up his hands and leaned back in his chair. “At this point, we’ve yet to prove he’s innocent. We have no idea what we’d be walking into.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not sure I agree.” Agent Brewster shook his head. “Once we arrest his handlers, we’ll be able to take down two spy rings with one raid. Sounds like a no-brainer to me.”

  “What does he get out of this?” Adam asked.

  “Protection,” Bree said.

  Jack frowned. “He’s got this all worked out. Which is why I don’t believe him. We’ve been investigating him for months and have evidence that he’s been selling government secrets. I can’t ignore that. On top of that, he took a woman hostage last night and kidnapped his own daughter. And now we’re just supposed to trust him.”

  “The FBI would step in and arrest them during the exchange,” Bree said.

  Jack shook his head. “We’re going to need time to investigate his claims.”

  “We don’t have much time.” Bree leaned forward. “He’s already arranged a meeting with both his handlers early tomorrow morning.”

  “He’ll have to postpone it.”

  “He’s lucky they agreed to meet him. Both sides have already made it quite clear they believe he’s betrayed them.”

  “Where is he meeting them?” Brewster asked.

  “Near the port,” Bree said.

  Jack leaned forward and caught her gaze. “You were with him, Bree . . . Do you think he’s playing us?”

  She hesitated before answering. “I think it’s a good possibility.”

  “So you want us to do this, but you don’t even believe your own father.”

  “I’m convinced if we intend to end this, we don’t have a choice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  JACK HEADED OUT of the guest room where he’d been staying, in search of Bree. She’d been extra quiet all evening, though he couldn’t blame her. For the first time in years she’d had to confront her past face-to-face with her father. He knew that even as strong as she was, it wasn’t easy for her. And almost losing her again shook him to the core. It was a reminder—not for the first time—how much he needed her in his life.

  Two of the senator’s grandchildren ran past him, screaming and chasing each other with Nerf guns, their father following a few yards behind. Ryan grabbed the youngest and disarmed him before doing the same to his brother. “It’s bath time for our crew, though if you ask them, you’d think they were about to walk the plank.”

  Jack laughed as Ryan set the boys down.

  “You’ve got exactly two minutes to get undressed and meet me in the bathroom,” Ryan said.

  More squeals followed as they ran into the bedroom.

  “You definitely have your hands full,” Jack said.

  Ryan shook his head and laughed. “Yes, and I’m not sure how I always get volunteered for bath duty.”

  “They seem like good kids.”

  “Energetic, but you’re right. I wouldn’t trade fatherhood for anything.”

  “Any updates on your father?” Jack asked.

  “The doctors are still pleased with his progress, though understandably he’s already feeling restless and ready to come home. It’ll be a few more days.”

  “I’m glad he’s doing better.”

  “Me too.” Ryan started into the bedroom, then turned back around. “There’s pizza out by the pool, by the way, if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said. “I was just going to look for Bree. Maybe I can get her to eat something.”

  “Last time I saw her she was heading into the formal dining room with a stack of files and her computer—”

  “Dad!” One of the boys hollered from inside the bedroom. “Lucas hit me.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Gotta run.”

  Jack headed downstairs, chuckling under his breath. Fatherhood had always been something he wanted to experience. In fact, he’d always assumed he’d have a wife and two or three kids with a dog in the suburbs by now.

  But for whatever reason, that had never happened.

  The formal dining room at the senator’s house held a solid oak dining set long enough for twelve people, and a large buffet table. A glass chandelier hung from a wooden ceiling beam. The room was far too ornate for Jack’s tastes, but the decor was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Bree sat at the large table with piles of papers surrounding her and her laptop.

  “I was told you might be in here,” Jack said.

  “I needed a quiet place to go back through all the intel collected so far on my father. See if I can find something we’ve missed.”

  “I’ve still got a dozen agents trying to prove what he told us, and we have a solid plan in place for tomorrow.”

  “And if he’s lying? If this is another scheme of his?”

  “The bottom line is we’re going to have to let this play out. And in the meantime, there’s pizza if you’re hungry.”

  She glanced up, still looking preoccupied. “Maybe later, but thanks.”

  “Bree . . .” He sat down next to her and shut the laptop. “I want you to forget about all of this for tonight. Stop and go take a bath or read a book. You need a break.”

  “I know you’re right. I need to . . . decompress a bit, but it’s hard to just put all of this aside.”

  “This is not how you decompress after a hard day.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Besides, hopefully tomorrow this time, all of this will be over.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “You’re right.”

  He hesitated. Maybe it was simply seeing Ryan and his boys that had triggered the feelings, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he should push the conversation a step further.

  “I know this question is personal, but I noticed that you haven’t mentioned anyone special,” he said.

  “That’s one way to change the subject.” She shot him a smile. “You mean like a boyfriend?”

  He nodded, wondering why he suddenly felt so awkward. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  She pushed back the computer and rested her hands on the table. “No boyfriend. I date some, but nothing serious. Not for a long time, actually.”

  He sat back in his chair. “I’m surprised. You’re smart, beautiful, funny . .
. I always thought my brother was a fool to let you slip out of his hands.”

  Actually, I was the fool for never telling you how I felt.

  “What about you? You’re a pretty good catch yourself. A bit rough around the edges, but—”

  “Rough around the edges?” he asked. “Really?”

  “I’m kidding.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. Sarcasm always holds a measure of truth.”

  She laughed. “Very funny. Though you haven’t answered my question.”

  “There isn’t anyone.”

  How was he supposed to tell her that the reason he’d never found someone was because no one measured up to her in his eyes? All the others seemed to come up short when compared to her.

  “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if we had gotten together?” he asked. “Romantically involved, I mean.”

  She dropped her hands into her lap as if taken aback by the question. “You and me?”

  “You make it sound . . . improbable.”

  “Not improbable, I suppose.” She hesitated. “Your question just took me by surprise.”

  What would happen if he took things a step further and told her what he felt right now?

  “If you really want to know—”

  “I do,” he said.

  She started gathering up the files she had spread out on the table. “If you had asked me out back then, I probably would have said no.”

  “You wouldn’t have even considered it?” he asked, half teasing, half serious.

  “I guess we’ll never know,” she said. “Because you never asked.”

  He felt a sliver of guilt raise its head.

  “What did happen to us, Jack?” She sat back in the upholstered chair. “You were my best friend, and then one day you were gone. I’ve always wondered if I did something to push you away. But I never heard from you, and eventually . . . eventually life went on, and you weren’t a part of it.”

  Jack shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. Trust me.”

  “But there has to be a reason.”

  The implications of her statement struck hard. In a way, he’d done exactly what her father had done. Walked out because, for some stupid reason, he thought it was the best thing.

  He’d clearly been wrong.

  “I know.”

  “I remember being surprised when you left—I guess I saw your ties to Texas and your family and assumed you’d always be a part of my life. Plus, I wanted what was best for you, and knew how much you wanted to join the FBI. I guess I hoped you would find what you were looking for close by, so I could be a part of your life.”

  He swallowed hard, wondering why it took so much courage to tell her the truth. “My decision to leave was partly because of you, but not for what you think.”

  “Me?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t want this to sound like an excuse, but you’d started dating Adam, and I . . . I didn’t know where I fit into your life anymore.”

  “Why not? We talked about it. You said you were okay about my dating him, and I believed you, because losing our friendship . . . that was something I didn’t want. And if I recall, you were dating—what was her name—”

  “Courtney. That ended up being a royal mess.”

  She picked up the pen she’d been using and tapped it against the table. “I remember.”

  She was right. Their timing had always been off. They kept missing each other. But he’d also never been completely honest with her.

  “What if I told you that I was young and stupid, and I really was in love with you.”

  She looked up at him, surprised. “In love with me?”

  He frowned. So she really hadn’t known. He suddenly regretted all the missed opportunities that now seemed to stare him in the face. How could he have been so stupid?

  “We were friends,” he said. “I was afraid it would ruin things between us if a relationship didn’t work out. I didn’t want that to happen, and then you settled for my brother.”

  She let out an awkward laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly say settled. Your brother’s a great guy.”

  “I have to agree. He is.”

  “But in the end, he wasn’t the right one for me.” Bree dropped the pen back onto the table. “Kristy’s perfect for him. Far more than I’d ever be.”

  “I agree with that as well.” He laughed, trying to lighten the moment. But the reality was, he lost her because he’d never said anything.

  She shook her head. “Seriously. I don’t understand, Jack. I never got the impression that you wanted to change our relationship to something romantic. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “I don’t know. I was sure you’d have shot down the idea of you and me.”

  He tried to read her expression, but all he saw was confusion in her eyes. Maybe he’d made things worse by saying anything. Just like what he’d been afraid would happen all those years ago.

  But now . . . now he wanted to take this second chance he’d somehow just been offered. Though maybe it was nothing more than the emotion of the moment that was dragging him back to those feelings. A lot of time had passed since they’d spent any time together.

  “And this is probably going to sound crazy,” he said, forcing himself to continue, “but those feelings I had for you all those years ago have never completely gone away.”

  “What are you saying, Jack?” She looked at him and tilted her head. “That you’re still in love with me?”

  He nodded. “I know these past few days have been hard and emotional, particularly for you, but I can’t ignore the connection that’s still between us. And I can’t help wondering what might happen if we stop and explore not just a friendship, but something more.”

  He tried to read her expression but couldn’t tell beyond the fatigue in her eyes what she was thinking. What he did know was that he’d pushed her too far. He should have simply enjoyed seeing her again and the few moments they had alone together catching up on old times. Because of course it wasn’t going to last, and he never should have expected it to. The years had changed both of them, and there were no do-overs in life in situations like this. He’d made his decision to leave, and now he had to live with the consequences.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” she asked.

  “Would it have made a difference? You’d fallen for Adam. It seemed like the right time to make my exit.”

  “So you just walked out of my life. And what about after Adam and I broke up? You could have told me then. Instead you pushed me out of your life. I missed you, Jack. You were my best friend, and I felt as if I lost you, and I didn’t even know why.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  She sighed. “If I’m honest, there was a time when I thought about what could happen if we decided to turn our friendship into something more.”

  He sat quiet, waiting for her to continue.

  “But I worried about some of the same things. That it would mess up our friendship. And I guess after watching my parents, relationships in general have always made me run in the opposite direction. But with you, I was always afraid that would have been the end of our friendship. That if things didn’t work out, I’d lose you. The sad thing is, I feel like I lost you anyway.”

  “You never lost me, Bree.”

  “Didn’t I?” She shook her head. “When you left, I felt like my safe place disappeared. You’d always been there for me, and I assumed you always would be. I felt like I lost the one person who was supposed to be there for me.”

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “You stopped communicating. I called, and you never called back.”

  Just like her father had. “I know I can’t justify this, but Bree, I’ve discovered that my feelings for you haven’t changed. And if I’m honest, I was thinking—when this is all over—that we could see what might happen between us. If I’m interpreting things wrong, I’m sorry, but this time . . . this time I
’m not willing to walk away again.”

  “I don’t know, Jack—”

  He turned around as someone stepped into the room. “Agent Brewster.”

  “Sorry . . . am I interrupting something? They told me I’d find you in here.”

  He glanced at Bree, then shook his head. “No. You’re fine.”

  “I know it’s late, but I was just given a few last-minute questions we still need to go over for tomorrow.”

  Jack grabbed her hand as she stood up. “Can we continue this conversation later?”

  She nodded silently, then followed the other agent. Jack hesitated, wondering what he’d just done. He’d walked out on her all those years ago because it had been the easy way to avoid dealing with how he felt.

  And to her, he was no different from her father.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  AUBREY HELD UP A PAIR of binoculars and studied the scene from her concealed position in a warehouse not far from the port. The adjacent abandoned building her father had chosen for the exchange—approved by the FBI—was located at the end of a dirt road that dead-ended into a field. One side of the fence was lined with old car parts and sheets of metal that desperately needed to be cleaned up.

  The countdown to the exchange was still five minutes away, but their team—made up of FBI agents, SWAT, and local law enforcement—had been in place for over an hour. Snipers were hidden on the roof of an adjacent building where she and Jack, along with part of the team, waited in their strategic position for the meet to take place. More agents had surrounded the rest of the property out of sight and were also waiting for the command to move. On top of that, two helicopters were on standby a few hundred yards away.

  She shifted in her spot near the dusty window where she and Jack had taken cover. Even on a mild winter day like today, the bulletproof vest was miserably hot. Perspiration ran down the middle of her back, trying to pull her focus away from her assignment. But she barely noticed. Her attention was fixed on her father, who’d just driven up in an old Jeep, parked in front of the empty building, and was now making his way toward one of four large industrial doors that at one time would have been used for offloading supplies.