by Lynn Ames
Jay bit her lip. “What time will we get there?”
“It’ll be tight,” Kevin said.
“Then there’s no time to lose.” Kate was already on her way inside.
The Value of Valor
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
eter and Max quietly, grimly went about readying themselves for P the meeting. Assembled on the living room floor were four Glock Nines, two Sig Sauers, two tiny microphones with transmitters, and two survival knives. There was also one bulletproof Kevlar vest—the only one Peter owned. Peter handed it to Max without comment.
“Boss…”
“Don’t argue with me; this is not negotiable.”
“I don’t feel comfortable…”
“They’re not meant to be comfortable,” Peter broke in.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Either you wear it or I go in alone.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Deadly.”
Max clamped his mouth shut.
Peter looked up from loading ammunition. “Last chance. I can’t ask you to do this, Max. In fact, as glad as I am to have you at my back, I wish you wouldn’t do this.”
Max looked Peter in the eye. “I’m in.”
“Okay. Let’s go over it one more time. We get to the site an hour ahead of time to check out the setup and see what they’re up to. I call five minutes in advance to ensure Barbara is alive.” He ignored the pang in his gut those words caused—this was business now. “We make them give us Barbara before we turn over Englert.” He looked at Max. “You hold Englert back out of sight until I tell you it’s a go. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“As soon as you give me Englert, I’m going to give you Barbara. Get her out of there and to the car as quickly as possible.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll cover you and be right behind you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, boss. I’ve got the vest, I should be the one on cover duty.”
“You’ve got the vest—you’re Barbara’s best chance.”
“I don’t like it.”
Lynn Ames
“You don’t have to like it, Max. That’s the way it’s going to go, okay?”
“Yes, sir. You don’t really intend to give them Englert, do you?”
“I’m going to try to hold on to both of them.”
“We need his testimony to prove all this. Who would believe it otherwise?” Max asked.
“That’s why we made the videotape of him this morning.”
“Just in case.”
“Exactly.”
“Would it be admissible in a court of law?”
“I don’t know—but it’s better than nothing. Okay. It’s time.” Peter squeezed Max’s shoulder. “If I haven’t said so yet, what you’re doing here…well, it means a lot to me. Thanks.”
“Like I said, why would I let you have all the fun? I’ll even buy the beer when we’re done.”
Peter laughed. “You’re on.”
“Let’s roll.”
It was impossible to hear inside the cavernous jet, so Kate and Jay simply snuggled together and tried to sleep. When that failed, Jay took out a pen and a pad of paper and began to sketch the outline for a story she titled, “The Hijacking of America—a Truth Stranger Than Fiction.”
As she wrote, Kate looked over her shoulder, taking the pen and filling in details where required—even adding a couple of quotes. She kissed Jay on the top of the head and yelled in her ear to be heard.
“Planning to send this to Trish?”
Jay nodded. She yelled back, “I’m thinking I’d better deliver it in person, though. Otherwise, she might have a heart attack.”
Kate laughed. “Good point.” Her smiled faded. “She was really torn up about you—thought it was her fault for letting you go.”
“What? That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s what I told her, but…”
“I can’t wait to set her straight.” Jay fell silent, thinking about what it must have been like for her editor to know she died while on assignment.
She and Trish were more than co-workers—they were friends. She would go see her as soon as this was over.
Kate looked down at the paper in Jay’s lap. The story ended for the moment with the conspiracy, leaving the outcome for later. She hoped beyond measure that they’d all have a chance to see that outcome through.
Peter sent Kevin to protect them; that told Kate he truly didn’t expect to survive the encounter. She was not at all surprised that he would go through with the exchange to save Barbara—that was so typically Peter.
The Value of Valor
He’d been in plenty of tight spots in his lifetime. She knew he had never feared death; she imagined that he didn’t fear it now. He was probably more concerned that he would no longer be able to protect her. That, too, was typically Peter.
Well, she thought, it’s my turn to protect you, Technowiz, whether you like it or not. She looked at her watch for what seemed like the thousandth time since they took off from L.A. It was 11:06 p.m. on the East Coast. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, wondering if they could possibly make it in time.
Peter circled around the Lincoln Memorial one more time. So far, he’d counted three operatives. He found it hard to believe there weren’t more, but if there were, they were well hidden. Perhaps this might go better than he expected. He checked his watch—almost time to make the phone call. His stomach flipped—it usually did before a dangerous mission—but this time was different; this was personal.
He walked back to where Max and Englert sat in the car on an adjoining street. Max got out when he saw Peter coming and locked Englert in the car.
“Everything okay here?”
“Yeah, boss. You?”
“Still three confirmed, fanned out like a triangle. I didn’t see Barbara, but I didn’t expect to yet.”
“You still want to go with the revised plan?”
“Yes.” When Peter saw the setup on his first pass, he reconfigured his plan. There was no way in his mind to avoid a head-on confrontation.
“I’ve got to come up the middle, but I’ll try to angle to the south side as much as I can.”
“Right. The Gettysburg Address side.”
“Yes.” Peter shook his head, marveling at how a man with Max’s abilities could be so directionally clueless. “You back me up from the north side—the inaugural address side, behind the second operative—
after they’ve had a chance to see me and scan the area. Wait until they’re fully focused on me. We’ll both have a clear line at the third guy once you get in place.”
“You sure, boss? Without me directly at your back, it leaves you vulnerable.” Max was thinking that it also meant he couldn’t shield Peter from fire with the Kevlar vest.
“Yes. You have the envelope I gave you?”
“Yes. I’m to give it to Barbara in case…”
“Right.” Peter didn’t want to dwell on his note to Barbara. “Time to make the call.”
“Grayson.”
Lynn Ames
“Put her on.”
“Peter?” Barbara asked.
“What color are Jay’s eyes?”
“G-green.”
“Good girl. I’ll have you out of here before you know it,” Peter promised.
“If you’re done, Mr. Enright, we’ll see you in five minutes.”
Barbara was seated, shackled, behind the statue of Abraham Lincoln, emancipator of the slaves. The irony was not lost on her, but her mind was focused elsewhere. Peter had asked her about Jay’s eyes—in the present tense. Peter never said anything by accident. He was telling her that Jay was alive. Could it be? She thought back to Kate’s funeral. She’d been talking to Peter, telling him something, when his attention was suddenly diverted. It was right after that that he gave her the instructions to go to Denver.
That was it! Her heart soared. Peter saw Jay and
knew he had to do something to distract these fools before they saw her, too. That was the point in her leading them on a wild goose chase. Barbara closed her swollen eyes. She felt better knowing the whole story; she only hoped she’d live long enough to see Jay again. Her stomach threatened to revolt.
She knew whoever these people were, they didn’t really intend to make a switch—they were armed to the teeth, and they all wore bulletproof vests. She hoped Peter was wearing one, too.
“It’s time,” Steven said into a tiny microphone transmitter from above Barbara’s head, as he watched Wayne Grayson’s retreating back.
Grayson would not stay for the fireworks. “Are you in position?”
“Affirmative,” Paul answered from his post on the north side of the memorial.
“Ready,” Lorraine answered, from the south side.
“I have a visual,” Paul said. “Approaching the stairs.”
“Affirmative. How many?”
“Two.”
“Affirmative. You know what to do,” Steven said.
Peter brought Dr. Englert to a halt at the base of the second set of stairs. “I know you can see me,” Peter announced loudly. “I can see you, too,” he paused. “All three of you.” It was a gamble, Peter knew. If there were more than three, his bluff would be called. He felt it was a chance he had to take.
The Value of Valor
“In fact, I’ve got someone on each of you right now.” It never hurt to make them think you were bigger than you were, he decided. “I promise you, if you try to fire, you’ll be dead before you can finish squeezing the trigger.”
Next to him, Peter felt Englert shiver. He whispered, “Trust me, Doctor, I want you alive a lot more than they do.”
“Bring Dr. Englert up the stairs slowly,” Steven called.
“Show me Dr. Jones first.”
Steven pulled Barbara roughly to her feet and pushed her out from behind the statue.
“Unshackle her legs,” Peter ordered, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, as he pushed Englert slowly up the steps in front of him. They had reached the top of the second rise. Into his microphone, Peter muttered, “Now, Max.”
“Affirmative, I’m getting into position.”
“You give me Jones first. Then you get Englert,” Peter called.
“No dice. We release them at the same time, they walk across simultaneously.”
Peter had been afraid of that. Barbara and Englert alone in the middle of the floor made them sitting ducks. “We each uncuff them first.”
“Okay,” Steven agreed. Into his microphone, he said, “Lorraine, you take out Englert. I’ve got the good Dr. Jones. Paul, you’ve got Enright.
Don’t miss.”
“Affirmative.”
“Affirmative.”
“You focus on Englert. I’ve got Barbara,” Peter ordered Max quietly.
“Get him down, then get him out of here—we need him—we’ve got a president to revive and a plot to reveal. No looking back, got it? Your country needs you.”
“Yes, sir,” Max answered, plainly still reluctant to leave Peter so exposed.
“Max, don’t fail me now.”
“No, sir,” Max replied.
“Good. Get ready.” Peter shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.
“All right. Uncuff her,” Peter called, uncuffing Englert as he watched Steven do the same to Barbara.
“On the count of three,” Steven said. “One, two, three.”
Peter pushed Englert forward as he saw Barbara begin to walk in his direction. He could see the tears streaming down her battered face. His nostrils flared, but he gave no other outward indication of his rage. He readied one of the Glocks.
As the two captives reached the middle of the floor, Peter saw all three operatives raise their weapons. “Now, Max,” he hissed. Peter flew Lynn Ames
forward, shooting the man who had held Barbara in the head before the man could pull the trigger. Peter was surprised to see a second bloom of red hit his target at virtually the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and realized that the second shot had come from the female operative.
Peter hurtled his body toward Barbara. A bullet ripped through his chest as he lunged desperately for her. He reached out despite the searing blast of pain and cradled Barbara in his arms. He dropped them both to the ground as she let out a frightened scream.
As Peter twisted his body, he saw as if in a dream, the female operative turn and fire at the man who had shot him.
On Peter’s order, Max charged forward and dove for Englert, throwing him to the ground. He was shocked when no shot came. He looked up in time to see the female operative aim and fire twice—once at the man next to the statue and a second time a moment later at the operative on the opposite side.
Seeing Peter go down, Max scrabbled toward him before he remembered his responsibility to keep Englert safe. “Boss!”
Lorraine ran toward Peter. Max raised his gun at her, then lowered it when she lowered her weapon.
“I’m with the Company,” Lorraine shouted. “I’m on your side. Get Englert out of here.”
Max reluctantly obeyed.
“You okay?” Lorraine asked Barbara, who was wedged underneath Peter.
Barbara nodded, too shocked and terrified to speak. Peter’s blood soaked her shirtfront.
Peter’s vision swam. He saw faces and shadows, as he labored to breathe. It felt as if a piano had been dropped on his chest. As the female operative rolled him off Barbara and onto his back, he noticed a blurred figure raise a gun from the shadows a short distance away.
Peter blinked to clear his vision, and for a second, the figure resolved itself into another man—not Max. He tried to warn the woman but couldn’t speak. He felt the weight of the Glock he still held loosely in his right hand, raised his arm with his last ounce of strength, and fired once.
Lorraine spun around to see the Viper collapse, a bullet in the center of his forehead. “Nice shot,” she breathed, her heart pounding wildly.
Peter, already unconscious, with blood dripping from his mouth, never heard her.
The Value of Valor
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
s the taxi pulled up to the Lincoln Memorial, Kate saw two men A running the opposite way. Without thinking, she took off running, pulling the gun from the back of her jeans as she went.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”
“Kate!” Jay screamed, still trying to extricate herself from the back of the cab.
The men stopped dead. The bigger of the two said, “Kate? Kate, it’s Max. It’s okay. Don’t shoot.” He was stunned. He knew Kate was supposed to be safely tucked away in New Zealand. Peter would be furious to know she was here.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Kate said, her voice shaking with tension as she approached the men.
Max groaned. “Kate, there’s no time. I swear to God it’s me. I don’t want to have to save your butt again. Peter will kill me.”
Kate laughed with relief. Kevin came running up alongside her. “It’s okay.” She put her hand on his arm. “He’s with us.”
“Anything you say, mate,” Kevin said, huffing.
Max dragged Englert over to where Kate and Kevin stood. Holding Englert by the collar, he used his other arm to hug Kate.
“God, it’s good to see you,” she said, her voice shaking.
“You too.”
“What’s happening?” Jay said as she halted next to Kate.
Max smiled at her. “I’ve got to get Dr. Englert out of here.” He looked directly at Kate, his eyes red and bloodshot. “It’s a bloodbath, Kate.”
Her heart flipped. “Peter? Barbara?”
Max inclined his head in the direction of the memorial.
Without another word, Kate took off running again.
“She’s going to be the death of me,” Kevin said, as he and Jay turned to follow her.
As Kate reached the
top of the steps, her heart stopped. It was a hideous tableau, with bodies strewn everywhere. She watched in horror as a man emerged from the shadows, his gun pointed at a cluster of three people on the ground, one kneeling, two prone. She recognized the Lynn Ames
emerging man as one of President Hyland’s Secret Service agents. She wondered if he was on their side, too. As she raised her own weapon, unsure what to do, she heard the cough of a silenced pistol, and watched the agent crumple to the ground.
The shot had come from one of the figures on the ground. Looking closer, Kate realized it was Peter. For a brief instant, she was frozen in place, her legs unable to carry her forward, her mouth working but no sound coming out.
Kevin reached her side, realizing right away that she was in shock.
“Don’t move,” he yelled to the woman kneeling over Peter, although he noted that she had no weapon in her hand.
Lorraine, who’d been about to see to Peter’s wound, froze.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked, shielding Jay behind him so she couldn’t see what was going on.
“Lorraine King, I’m on your side.” She hazarded a glance at the man holding the gun on her, gasping with surprise when she saw a woman she recognized as Katherine Kyle standing next to him, a gun held loosely in her fingers. She nodded at Kate. “You’re Katherine Kyle. Boy am I glad to see you. Dr. Jones could sure use a friend right now.” She tipped her head in the direction of the woman to the side of Peter. She was covered in blood and clearly in shock.
“What do you say, love?” Kevin murmured to Kate. “Is she the real deal?”
Kate, still stunned, was momentarily unable to respond.
Before anyone said another word, Jay broke free of Kevin’s restraining arm and ran forward. “Barbara,” she gasped, seeing her friend’s battered face and bloodstained shirt. She reached Barbara’s side, dropping to the floor next to her to cradle her head.
As soon as she did, Kate recovered, running forward herself.
Kevin shrugged, saying to no one in particular, “I guess she’s legit, eh?” He, too, joined the others.
“He’s hit bad,” Lorraine said grimly. “We’ve got to get help.” She noted the small entry wound in his chest and the more significant hole in his back where the bullet had exited.