The Value Of Valor - KJ3

by Lynn Ames

  “Ah, you catch on quickly.”

  “I was not born yesterday, eh, Pietro?”

  “Find me an ATM in Sedona, Arizona. And then find me another one in Flagstaff. The transaction in Sedona should have taken place two hours ago. And the transaction in Flagstaff should have taken place a half hour ago. Is that a problem for you?”

  “No, not at all. Give me a minute.”

  Peter heard the keys on the computer keyboard rattling.

  After a few seconds, Gustav said, “It is done—child’s play.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.”

  The connection was severed.

  Peter stood listening to the dial tone a few seconds more, debating whether to make the next call. The last time he’d seen Kevin had been during an undercover operation just after he’d gotten back from Vietnam.

  It hadn’t ended well for either one of them. Peter had ended up in the intensive care ward of the hospital in Auckland, and Kevin had lost a brother. Although the ops report afterward had clearly stated that Peter had done everything he could to save Alan, he wasn’t sure Kevin would ever forgive him for surviving when Alan had died.

  Finally, he dialed zero for the operator and asked for an international exchange. She made the connection for him.

  Lynn Ames

  When the phone was picked up on the other end, Peter said, “Hey, it’s Skydiver. I need a favor and a complete blackout.”

  There was a momentary silence before a man with a Kiwi accent said,

  “Anything for you, mate.”

  Peter let out the breath he was holding. “Thanks, buddy. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “What’s past is past, mate. You were always like a brother to me and Alan. I know in my heart that you did whatever you could for him.”

  “I wish I could have done more.”

  “I know, brother. And that’s what makes it okay. What can I do for you?”

  “I need the following items: a large knapsack packed with several pairs of jeans, women’s undergarments, socks, a windbreaker, and some T-shirts for a woman about six feet tall and one hundred fifty-five pounds. Also, sneakers and hiking boots, women’s size nine.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll also need a satellite cell phone capable of international use, a compass, some New Zealand dollars, a Sig Sauer, and good road maps for the South and North Islands.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Oh, and, Kevin? I’ll need a set of car keys in there and a car parked outside at the usual drop point.”

  Kevin laughed. “You don’t ask for much, do you, mate?”

  “Thought I’d let you off easy this time.”

  “Okay, here’s the phone number for the satellite cell.” Kevin read off a series of numbers. “And here’s the license plate for the car.”

  “Thanks, buddy, I owe you.”

  “You’ve been saying that for years. I’m still waiting to collect. Does this package need an escort?”

  “No. I can’t ask you for that. But I’d like to know if I can rely on you to get wet if need be.”

  “No worries, mate. I’ll be standing by. This package, is it important to you?”

  “I’d give my life for it in a heartbeat.”

  “Then so would I.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Take care, Skydiver.”

  “You too.”

  Peter disconnected the line, walked back to the car, and slid into the driver’s seat. He turned to Kate, whose knees were jiggling in the passenger seat. “Miss me?”

  Kate shot him a withering glare. “Hardly.”

  The Value of Valor

  “You ought to be nice to me. I just bought you at least four hours with the ATM trick—maybe more.”

  “In that case, thank you,” she said.

  “Okay.” He looked at his watch—3:55 p.m. “We’ve got half an hour to kill before the Commission learns about your bank withdrawals and communicates that information to the goon squad. Let’s get something to eat, I’m starved. ”

  Kate looked at him oddly. “Don’t you think it would be a mistake for me to be seen in a restaurant?”

  Peter laughed. “I didn’t say you were going to be seen. I just said let’s get something to eat.”

  “Don’t split hairs with me, Technowiz.”

  “Okay,” he said with exaggerated slowness. “We’re going to go to a restaurant, where I’m going to pick us up some takeout and you’re going to wait in the car. Then we’re going to find a park somewhere to eat it. Is that better?”

  “I suppose. Just remember, sarcastic boy, you won’t have me to kick around for a while, so get your licks in while you can.”

  “I’ll save some up for when you get back,” he said resolutely. “What kind of food do you want?”

  Kate pointed across the street. “Mexican will do.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were feasting on enchiladas and refried beans in Papago Park.

  “I feel like this is the Last Supper,” Kate said.

  “You’re missing the moustache, beard, and Jesus complex, I think. If, on the other hand, you were intimating that this will be your last good meal for a while, I promise you, the food’s not that bad in New Zealand.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Stay away from the beef—they export all their best stuff.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Speaking of things we need to mention, is there anything I should know about where I’m going once I land on the other side of the world?”

  Kate asked.

  “Like whether you need to speak the language?”

  “You’re just too witty for me.”

  “I thought perhaps you could appreciate a little levity today,” Peter said.

  “Something to remember you by?”

  “That’s not funny, Kate.” For a second, the very real anxiety Peter was feeling came to the surface. Just as quickly, he swallowed it.

  “You’re right. I apologize,” Kate said.

  Lynn Ames

  “Accepted. You’re going to be okay. I’ve made some arrangements for you.”

  “What kind of arrangements?”

  “When you arrive at the Auckland airport, take a taxi downtown to Albert Park. There’s a clock made out of flowers on the university end of the park. There’s a bench at 7:00—sit on it. On the ground directly beneath you, you’ll find a backpack. Take it—it’s yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Yes. A survival kit of sorts.”

  Kate raised an eyebrow. “What’ll be in it?”

  “Clothes, shoes, a gun, maps, a compass, satellite cell phone with international capabilities, and a set of car keys.” He slid a piece of paper across the picnic table to her. “Here’s the license plate number for the car. It’s yours. Your phone number is on there, too.” He pointed to the paper. “I’ve already copied the information down. I’ll call you to let you know what number to use for me.”

  “We’re going to be in communication?”

  “Katherine Ann, you didn’t honestly think I’d ship you to the other side of the world without any backup, did you?”

  Kate felt tears of gratitude prick her eyes. The nagging fear receded just a little bit. “Thank you, friend. I take it we won’t be using your home number?”

  “No. Too risky. I regularly sweep my phones and use anti-bugging equipment at the place in D.C., but I don’t want to take a chance. I’ll call you with the number of another satellite cell phone.”

  “Okay. How did you arrange all this?” She had never doubted Peter’s resourcefulness, but this was beyond impressive.

  He shrugged. “No big deal. I talked to a friend of mine.”

  “No big deal. Right.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I hope whatever favor you called in, it wasn’t too big.”

  “No favors were swapped this time, m’dear. J
ust one buddy helping another one out. The car will be on Wellesley Street. Its location will be marked on the map in your backpack.”

  “Got it.”

  “If you get in over your head, you’ve got local backup. Call this number; tell the guy who answers the phone Skydiver sent you. He’ll know who you are. You can count on him the same way you can count on me.”

  “Who is he?”

  “An old friend.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Kevin.”

  The Value of Valor

  Kate could tell Peter didn’t want to tell her any more about the mysterious Kiwi connection, so she let it drop.

  Peter stood up. “Time to get this show on the road. There’s a flight to L.A. in an hour and a half. You’re going to be on it. You’ll connect in L.A. with a Qantas flight that will take you to Auckland. You’ll have to buy the international ticket in L.A.”

  “You memorized the flight schedules?”

  He nodded. “When I landed at the airport earlier today.”

  “You’re the best, Technowiz, you know that?”

  “I know, but don’t let it get around.”

  “No worries there. I doubt I’ll be meeting anyone to tell any time in the near future.”

  “You never know.” Peter could hear the despair that was creeping into Kate’s voice again. He wished he could get on the plane with her, but that wasn’t the answer and he knew it. He had to stay in the States and find a way to expose the Commission and their scheme. It was the only way.

  They were silent for the rest of the walk to the car.

  As Peter opened the driver’s side door, he said, “I know this won’t be the most comfortable thing for you, but I need you to get on the floor of the passenger seat.”

  “There?” Kate pointed to the small space between the dashboard and the seat front.

  “’Fraid so, my friend. I think you can shove the seat back just a little farther—it’ll give you a bit more space.”

  “Yeah, maybe even a whole quarter of an inch.”

  “We try to be accommodating.”

  “Never mind that, just get us to the airport already before my legs get stuck permanently in this position.”

  “You got it,” he said, moving forward into the traffic heading toward the airport.

  “Stay here,” Peter said as he pulled into the darkness of the parking garage. “I’ll be right back.”

  He ran across the street and into the terminal. He scanned the busy baggage claim area, seeking out the three faces he had committed to memory.

  “Bingo.”

  From a position behind baggage carousel three, he saw them. They were second in line at the nearby Avis car rental counter. He watched as the bigger of the two men extricated a large billfold from his suit jacket pocket, removed a wad of bills, and counted them out for the clerk behind the counter.

  Lynn Ames

  Peter smiled to himself. It was clear the clerk was far too slow and inefficient for the operative. He wondered if the man wouldn’t just reach over the counter and grab the poor woman by the throat and shake her for the keys.

  After another minute or two of wrangling, the big man snatched the keys off the counter and threw them at the other man. The second man took off as though his pants were on fire. Peter assumed he’d been sent to fetch the car. When the big man walked away from the counter, the woman said something to him. Peter couldn’t hear anything from where he was standing, but it was obvious that they were arguing. He imagined that the woman didn’t like the plan. Perhaps she wanted to stay behind in case Kate wasn’t really up north. If so, he would have to give her points for intelligence.

  In the end, the man and woman left, both of them striding angrily out the main doors where the third member of their team had just pulled up with the car. As soon as the car doors closed, the vehicle peeled out into the traffic in front of the terminal. Satisfied that they’d taken the bait, Peter walked back to his car to get Kate and tell her the coast was clear.

  “This is a mistake.”

  “Shut up, Lorraine. We’ve been over this before,” Steven growled.

  “Kyle used her ATM card twice in the past few hours, once in Sedona and a second time in Flagstaff. The timing is consistent with the amount of time she would have had to drive from here to there. We’ve got her.”

  “I thought we agreed that she would never endanger anyone else. I think it’s unlikely she would jeopardize that boy by keeping him with her.”

  “She probably dumped him off somewhere and took the car.”

  “It’s too much of a risk not to leave someone here in case the ATM

  thing is a red herring.”

  “The Viper empowered me to make the decisions, and I have. End of discussion.”

  Lorraine fumed silently in the backseat.

  As she and Peter approached the USAir ticket counter, Kate’s stomach lurched. In a matter of minutes, she would be on her own again, running for her life. She wanted to throw up.

  As if sensing Kate’s emotions, Peter remained close to her side. He stayed with her as she used her false ID to purchase a one-way ticket to Los Angeles; they went through security together, and he sat alongside her as they waited in the boarding area at gate number seven for her flight to be announced.

  The Value of Valor

  “Attention in the terminal, USAir is now boarding Flight 160, non-stop service to Washington, D.C.’s, National Airport. All passengers should now be on board at gate thirteen.”

  Kate turned to Peter. “You could make that flight.”

  He shook his head. “I’m staying here with you. I’ll catch the next one.”

  “The next one isn’t for another three hours.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Kate knew better than to push him. Instead she squeezed his hand.

  “Thanks.”

  “None necessary. I hate sending you off on your own again—you know that, right? I wish I could go with you, but we can’t defeat the Commission that way. We can’t.” He took her hands. “You’ll be back here soon enough. We’ll expose these guys and we can get on with our lives.”

  She nodded, unable to speak around the golf ball-sized lump in her throat. She leaned her head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness they shared and silently hoping his confidence in the outcome would rub off on her. At the moment, she didn’t feel very strong or very certain.

  Jay looked out the window of Flight 160 as the rest of the passengers filtered onto the plane. A lone tear trickled down her cheek. Leaving Terri had been hard; going home would be harder. She felt a complete sense of desolation. In less than two months time, she had lost everything. Her memory, her physical well-being, her love, and her life.

  It simply wasn’t fair. She pounded the armrest with her fist. She’d sat in the boarding area for an hour trying to sort through everything, but the emotions had overwhelmed her. She’d gotten up, walked around, found a pay phone, and tried to call both Peter and Barbara. She’d hung up on both of their answering machines. It was as if everyone and everything in her life had moved on without her.

  Where is my place now? Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do? She thought about going back to New York and Time, but she couldn’t face that yet. She didn’t see how she could simply pick up the thread where she’d left off before she’d left for Arizona.

  Jay closed her eyes tightly and tried to make some sense out of the senseless. Kate was dead. She’d been left for dead on the side of a cliff in the middle of nowhere, she’d broken Trystan’s heart, and Terri was hurting over mistakes she couldn’t change and grieving her absence already. Maybe when the funeral was over, she should just pack up Fred and disappear.

  She shook her head in frustration. Running away wasn’t the answer and she knew it. She knew it just as surely as she knew she couldn’t stay Lynn Ames

  in their house in Albany with memories of Kate crowding her everywhere. It would be too much.

  There
would never be another woman for her—Kate had been the love of a lifetime. Jay buried her face in her hands and wept for what seemed like the millionth time in the past two days.

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  Jay rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes and looked up to see a concerned flight attendant standing over her. “I-I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Just having a tough day.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  Can you get me my life back? She smiled. “Not unless you can do something about time travel.”

  “Sorry, they didn’t teach us that at flight school.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t figure they did.”

  “How about a nice cup of tea instead?”

  Jay’s smile was bittersweet. “I guess that’ll have to do.”

  The Value of Valor

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  hat’ll have to do then,” Peter said into the pay phone outside

  “T the boarding area where he’d gone to make a quick call. He could’ve waited until Kate had left for L.A., but the clock was ticking loudly and he didn’t want to waste any time.

  “You know I’ll do the best I can, but I can’t give you any guarantees.”

  “I’ll take whatever you can give me, Doc. I’ll be in touch soon.” Peter hung up and went back to where Kate was sitting.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “So far. I didn’t want to wait to get the ball rolling.”

  “Who did you call?”

  “You’re a great reporter, how would you go about uncovering this story?”

  Kate didn’t hesitate. “I’d start in the most obvious place—prove the murder. How did the president really die? We have a body to work with; who did the autopsy? What were the results?”

  Peter smiled and nodded. “That’s where I thought we’d find the smoking gun, too.”

  “So back to the original question. Who did you call?”

  “I called a friend who works for the medical examiner at Bethesda Naval Hospital, where the president died.”

  “Did you get anything?”

  “Not yet. She says she never saw the body.”

  “Does she usually?”

  “She’s usually the one doing the autopsy.”

  “Oh. Hmm.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What does she think is going on?”