Consummate Betrayal

by Yungeberg. Mary

Ainsley spoke decisively. “Let’s get this done. Much as it pains me, the CIA wants the glory. They’ve been extremely upset that you had the ear of the president and were able to transfer custody. In two days, the team of agents that apprehended Hassani in the first place will arrive in Sioux Falls and make the transfer via an Agency jet. That way, they get the media splash they crave, while you and special agent Cantor get to go home for a month’s leave. How’s that sound to you?”

  Suddenly dizzy, he lurched across the room. His mouth went dry, his heart pounded, and he wasn’t sure he could speak. Spying a half glass of water on the bedside table, he tossed it back like scotch and spawned a coughing fit. Sputtering, he wiped his streaming eyes and dripping nose on the back of his hand. “Sorry, sir,” he managed to rasp. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in months. Your assistance in resolving this once and for all is greatly appreciated by both special agent Cantor and me.”

  His boss chuckled. “Great Ralph, you get to work pacifying the doctors. Make them think we’ll be following up with rehab on this end. Keep Hassani secured and you’ll be relieved of the whole mess in a couple days. Bye now, I’ll be in touch.”

  Ralph barely spoke to the deputy standing guard as he stepped out the door. He and Chad needed to act – now. The aroma of fresh coffee got his attention, but when he poured from the pot his hands shook. Feeling dazed, he took a slurp of the hot liquid and wandered back into Rowan’s room. Slouching into his usual spot at the end of the bed, he sat the coffee cup on the floor and bowed his head, covering his face with his hands. How in the hell were they going to stop the CIA from taking Rowan? This time they had the president’s go ahead. The sequence of events he and Chad had discussed over and over again was about to overtake them.

  He heard Rowan stirring and looked up. The nurses had already raised his bed so he was sitting up partway and his eyes were open. “Morning, Rowan, how are you feeling?” His endangered special agent appeared to be thinking it over. Think fast, he wanted to say, because we’re running out of time. Not waiting for an answer, he took a gulp of coffee. “Rowan, we have a big problem. I am going to get dressed and call special agent Cantor. The three of us are going to have a meeting, and we are going to end that meeting with a plan to get you out of here, within the next twenty-four hours. I’ll explain why when he gets here. If you have any ideas son, we need them now, or your world is going to turn to big-time shit. I’m leaving now so your nurses can get you all prettied up for our meeting.” He smiled at Rowan, knew that would piss him off, then turned and walked out.

  * * *

  Rowan watched his boss’s receding back and frowned. Something must have upset Ralph acutely, because he was pale, for God’s sake. They were going to have a meeting. What had Ralph said? His world would turn to big-time shit? Could it get much worse? Running his right foot along his left leg, he nudged the ever present leg irons and the chain, which remained padlocked to the bed frame. He hated the constant reminder that he was a prisoner of his own government, enmeshed in a cleverly woven web of lies, all playing on the subterfuge he’d committed for that same government…enhanced and made believable because of his Iranian heritage.

  During the last month, as he’d reluctantly left the beguiling peace and darkness of unconsciousness and been dragged back into the land of the living, he’d tried to come to terms with his situation. Shifting around on the bed, he wiggled his fingers and wished he could scratch himself. But lifting either of his arms hurt like hell. Giving up on getting comfortable, he sighed and thought about the endless nights. The beating he’d endured had done a number on him. At least once every night he woke up sweating and shaking, the leering faces of the two CIA agents swirling through his mind.

  Sometimes when he woke up he smelled blood and felt it, thick and warm on his arms. And every day he dreaded the humiliating therapy that involved removal of the leg irons so a physical therapist could make him exercise his legs while the guard stood in the room with his pistol drawn. When they finished, Ralph would step forward, heave a deep sigh, and place the shackles back on his legs. The sound of the cold metal clicking closed around his ankles left him panic-stricken, filled with helpless terror.

  Then there were the nurses. Their cheery familiarity grated worse than anything. They had to do everything for him, and goddamn it, they seemed to enjoy it. At first he refused to eat, but they badgered him, wore down his resistance until he gave up and let them feed him, brush his teeth and bathe his body. But it killed him inside.

  Gazing out the window at the grayish brown terrain and still dead trees, he thought about Danielle. He hung his head and closed his eyes as a wave of longing rolled over him. It was time for him to say good-bye, like he’d promised. She wouldn’t want to hear that, but he had to do it. Associating with him was detrimental to her future. His life had come to an abrupt halt, but hers stretched ahead, and hell, maybe she’d learn to love that jerk she lived with. The last thing she needed was him.

  His thoughts turned again to the two CIA thugs and Muusa Shemal, the Egyptian man who seemed to be the linchpin in the organized effort to destroy his life. He had reasoned, during the long nights, that it must be because of the jihadists he’d killed. The canny Egyptian had obviously purchased influence high up in the Intelligence agencies because Ainsley remained convinced that he was a double agent.

  Surely the president knew he would not betray his country. But the president couldn’t intervene, because there were too many sovereign foreign governments involved and too much intelligence that would be compromised. Besides, the world could never know that America’s president had sanctioned all the assassinations he’d carried out on foreign soil in the name of national security.

  Now that he could think with a semblance of clarity, he knew he had to act – and quickly, to get himself out of the FBI’s custody and out of the reach of the CIA. Hopefully he hadn’t waited too long. His two most trusted friends, Gabriel Hernandez and Michael Cristo, former Army Rangers, part of the black ops team sworn to serve along with him, were his only hope for rescue. It was essential that he call them – today.

  Thinking about the two men made him smile. Michael was the taller, stretching north of six feet by several inches, catlike and graceful with black hair, blue eyes and a reckless grin often fatally mistaken for a lack of discipline. Gabriel, by contrast, was a solid six feet of brute strength. Brooding and intense, he was a first generation American from south of the border. Brown-eyed with thick black hair curling beneath his ears and sporting a thin moustache, they called him their Mexican Muscle.

  Two nurses walked in and he sighed. Eyes closed, jaws clenched, he steeled himself for the morning ritual, trying to send his mind elsewhere as they began his care. Without warning he saw Danielle the first time he’d met her, wearing those damned black pants and sweater, looking so sexy it drove him crazy. Swallowing hard, he tried desperately to think of something – anything else. After what seemed like an eternity, the nurses were finished. When he opened his eyes, Chad was walking in, with Ralph on his heels. Looking at his boss, he read the concern and alarm on his face and wondered again what the hell was coming.

  Staring at him, hands on hips, Ralph waited until the nurses had left, shutting the door behind them. “All right, here’s the thing. Ainsley called this morning, and he is handing you back to the CIA. The same agents that abducted you are flying here in two days to transport you to Quantico.”

  Stark terror reared its ugly head. He felt like he’d been sucker punched. Taking a deep breath, he knew it was past time to act. “I do have a way out of this.” He hesitated, looking from Ralph to Chad and back again. “Since shortly after September11, 2001 I’ve worked with two men. We’ve been together in some tough places. We all know how the political winds blow. Times change and because of that, we put a plan in place to deal with a situation like this.” Considering for a moment, he shrugged. “Not exactly like this, but close enough.”

  Ralph looked at him, wav
ing a hand in his direction. “Would you please tell us what this plan entails?”

  The rapidly escalating situation would soon be out of his friend’s purview. Looking at Ralph, he spoke resolutely. “A phone call from me will put an extraction plan into motion. The two men I mentioned will arrange transport to a secure, secret location within forty-eight hours. They will control the scenario. We’ll just play along. Neither you nor Chad will have knowledge of the location or the identities of either man.” Looking from one to the other, he tried to smile. “It’s that simple, problem solved. I can make the call right now.”

  Ralph frowned. “That’s it? You fall off the face of the earth, and we have no contact and no way of knowing where you are or what has happened to you?”

  Frustration rising, he tried to explain what he thought his boss should already understand, that it was imperative he disappear. “Come on Ralph, you know as well as I do, we can’t have it any other way. My colleagues are professionals, they know what to do, how to handle this.”

  Ralph stared at him. “Are you damn certain you trust these two – that they aren’t going to transport you right back into the loving arms of the CIA?”

  Gazing at Ralph, he could see that his plan was tearing his friend apart. “Boss…let’s face reality.” Giving Chad a quick look and then turning back to Ralph, he laid it out for them. “My career as an FBI special agent is over. My name and face have been plastered on every cable station and network on the planet as an international terrorist. Frankly, I don’t see any other solution to the problem. I’ve put my life in the hands of these two men on a continual basis for most of the last ten years. There’s no one I trust more.”

  Immediate hurt appeared in Ralph’s eyes as the older man sat down heavily in his usual chair. Glancing again at Chad, who stood listening silently with arms crossed, Rowan continued. “I would trust either of you with my life. You know that. The two of you saved my life in this godforsaken place, and I owe you both a debt of gratitude I may never be able to repay and will damn sure never forget. But can’t you see? I don’t want to take you two down with me. If there is any whiff of involvement by either of you, your careers are as dead as mine and I won’t let that happen.” He gave each one a grim stare, hoping they’d realize that their reality was the same one in which he’d been so artfully ensnared. “Let me make the call, and I’ll fill you both in on the details.”

  Catching the look on Ralph’s face, he raised a brow, gave his friend an arrogant smirk and loaded his voice with sarcasm. “Boss – well, not anymore. You’re the one who keeps talking about how much you need my fucking input, so take it.”

  His words and tone had the desired effect. Ralph slapped his hands on his knees and jumped up from the chair at the end of the bed. “Come on, special agent Cantor. Let’s find some breakfast while this plan gets put into motion.” Ralph turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Chad shrugged at him, mouthed Thanks a lot, and followed Ralph from the room.

  Heaving a ragged sigh, he let his head sink into the pillow and closed his eyes, weary of the exchange, wondering where Michael and Gabriel would take him and wishing he could somehow escape the never-ending nightmare his life had become. Opening his eyes, looking from the phone on the bedside table to his hands, he managed a bitter laugh. He couldn’t make the call, because he couldn’t pick up the phone. As soon as Ralph quit pouting and came back to the room, he’d put the next chapter of his ruined life into motion.

  The door opened and closed and he looked up, expecting Chad and Ralph, but it was Danielle and his heart sank even further. Her cheeks were pink, and she’d stuffed the long red hair he loved into a ponytail. She carried two covered cups of Starbucks coffee and sat them on the bedside table while she slipped out of her light jacket. “Hi Rowan. It’s a gorgeous spring day and I brought you some coffee… Are you all right?”

  The smile faded as she stared at him and he hated what he had to do. He’d been a fool, or too drugged to figure it out earlier, but now he needed to get her out of danger. “Thanks for bringing coffee.” How could he tell her that after today she’d never see him again?

  Giving him an uneasy smile, Danielle held the cup to his lips while he took a long swallow. It had cooled off, but still tasted great. And now he’d better get on with it. “Ah, I needed that. Danielle…do you remember when you asked me to promise to say good-bye when I had to leave?”

  Pausing mid sip, eyes huge, she nodded and he watched the ponytail bounce up and down. “Yes, of course I remember.”

  Agonizing pain gripped his chest while he gazed into the depths of her worried eyes. “Well, unfortunately, I have to tell you good-bye and I can’t – I mean I don’t know…” God, he was such a coward.

  Danielle’s face paled and her hands shook, holding the coffee. “Rowan, just be honest with me. Please – tell me what’s going on.”

  He swallowed and tried to breathe through the pain in his chest. He owed it to her to be strong. “OK, it’s like this. I need to disappear before the CIA or FBI hauls me out of here for prosecution. Sometime in the next day or so, I’ll just be gone. You’ll hear about it on TV. Even I don’t know where, but it’ll be a safe location.” There, he’d said it. Would she get the finality?

  Instead of talking, Danielle gave him another swallow of coffee. Then she sat down beside him, leaned over and kissed him, lips so tender he forgot, for a couple minutes, about the direness of the situation confronting him. When she pulled away, he wanted to beg her not to stop. She smiled at him, fingers gentle on his cheek. “Rowan, take me with you. I’ll be happy anywhere, as long as I’m with you. There’s nothing to hold me here. I’ve been thinking about leaving the airline industry anyway.”

  That was the very last thing he’d expected her to say. Seeing the despair in her eyes made it damn near impossible for him to keep talking. “The thing is – I can’t. It’ll be dicey at best to get me out of here, and I can’t put you in that kind of danger. The bottom line is this – when you walk out of here today, we’ll most likely never see each other again. And that’s for the best, for you. Trust me, I’ll never forget you. And you’ll be free to move on with your life, whatever you have in mind.” Looking at her face, he knew he’d gotten through, in a big way.

  Danielle sat hunched over on the edge of the bed next to him, her body trembling. When she looked at him, he could see determination mingling with terrible pain. “You can’t tell me I’m never going to see you again. Oh my God – I hate this so much. I know it’s stupid for me to ask you to take me with you. But all I want is to be with you. And someday, I will be. I refuse to believe anything else.” Putting her hands over her face, she slumped over onto his chest. Then she wiggled around until she was snuggled up next to him with her head beneath his shoulder, one arm holding him tight.

  The warmth of her body next to his took his breath away. He wished he could tell her how much she meant to him, but the words wouldn’t come. The lump in his throat hurt, and he could only whisper. “I’m sorry. It’s just…there’s no other way.”

  She sat up, stared at him and spoke in a brittle, emotionless voice. “Let me give you another sip of coffee before I go. Oh – and I brought you something. It’s nothing really, just a gift I wanted you to have.” Her voice cracked, but her sweet lips made a hard line as she continued. “I’ll leave it here for you to open later.”

  He gulped the coffee she held to his lips, unable to think past the pain of losing her. Nodding, he attempted a smile, a mistake. Clenching his jaws to keep from breaking down, he took a deep breath and held it. His eyes were wet, but he couldn’t do anything about that. Letting the breath out slowly, he gazed at her. “Thanks, I’ll have Chad help me with it when he comes back.”

  “OK, that will work out just fine.” All business, she stood up, pulled on her jacket, took a small, wrapped package out of one of the pockets, and placed it on the table. “It isn’t much, but I thought you might like it.” Her face a hard mask,
she looked him in the eye. “Good-bye for now, Rowan. I love you.” Before he could answer, she left, even flinging the curtain closed so he couldn’t watch her leave the room.

  He closed his eyes as the pain and desolation washed over him. “Good-bye, Danielle. I love you too.” Now he didn’t care what happened to him. The CIA or FBI could have him – interrogate him until hell froze over and then execute him and put him out of his misery. He’d never felt more like dying, not since September 11, 2001.

  * * *

  Chad wandered back into Rowan’s room. Tugging the curtain open, he looked at his colleague, and thought he was sleeping. Rowan’s eyes were closed, but when he coughed discreetly, they flew open. They were red-rimmed and he saw deep sadness for an instant, then the cold, distant look took over, and Rowan raised a brow. “Is Ralph still pouting?”

  Chuckling, he took a seat in what he had come to think of as Ralph’s chair. “You hit him damn hard. I thought he was going to break down and cry after we left. But you made him so mad all he could do was cuss.”

  Rowan looked at him and sighed. “He’ll get over it. But hey, Chad, I have a favor to ask.”

  Hands clasped together between his knees, he gazed down the length of the bed. “What do you need? You know I’ll do anything I can.”

  Rowan wiggled his fingers and stared at them while he spoke. “I’d be indebted to you for life if you would dial the phone for me and hold it to my ear so I can talk.”

  He chuckled again. “Shit, Rowan, we walked right out of this room an hour ago, and it never occurred to either of us…” His voice trailed off at the look on his friend’s face. Jumping up, he stepped to the bedside table and grabbed the phone. “What’s the number? Are you sure you want to use this phone?”

  “No one can trace the number or the phone I’m calling.” Rowan recited the number in a monotone voice as Chad punched the key pad. Giving his friend a perfunctory smile, he held the phone and waited silently. Finally Rowan spoke. “Ghost Rider.” An animated voice responded and Rowan frowned with concentration. One brow went up, his mouth opened and closed and he said, “All right, sounds good.”