“I’m out for the rest of the day,” Alex said to her team. “You can reach me on my cell phone and . . .”
Alex dug in her pocket to hold up the phone.
“I even know where it is!”
The team cheered.
“Dusty will keep tabs on me as well. Troy and Colin are with me,” Alex said. “The General’s team might ask for your assistance. Assist at will, but remember that you’re responsible for completing your tasks.”
“Yes, sir,” the team called.
“Sir,” White Boy raised his hand. “Any word on Andy?”
“Taken care of, Captain,” Alex said. “Trece is currently being processed at Pelican Bay Prison.”
“Thank you, sir,” White Boy said. “May I call his wife?”
“You may,” Alex said.
“What should I tell her?” White Boy looked so lost it was all she could do to not hug him.
“Tell her that she can expect me to return him when he’s done,” Alex said. “She’ll know what I mean.”
“You mean, he’s working?” Margaret asked.
“Did you think I’d give him a vacation when we have so much work to do?” Alex smiled.
The team chuckled.
“Don’t worry. He’s in good hands,” Alex said. “I won’t let him or any of you get lost, shoved aside, or caught up in stupid crap. It’s not going to be easy for him, but I’m sure he’ll have plenty of big stories to tell when he gets back.”
“But he will come back?” Leena asked.
“Oh, he’ll be back,” Alex gave a curt nod to show her complete certainty. “He’s a Fey Team member. We don’t leave our teammates behind.”
“So, he’s not alone?” White Boy asked.
“Think about it,” Alex said. “When has Andrew Ramirez ever been alone?”
White Boy looked confused for a moment and then smiled.
“Never,” He nodded.
“Exactly,” Alex said. “If you need me, let me know. I’ll be back tomorrow early.”
She put her hand on Troy’s arm. He nodded and left the room. She followed him out the door. Five minutes later, Ben appeared in the doorway. He looked over the team and walked to the front.
“I need some help,” Ben said to Joseph and Matthew.
“It’s up to Captain Mac Clenaghan,” Joseph said.
“With what?” Matthew’s voice carried his deep distrust of Alex’s former mentor.
Ben gave Matthew his intimidating “need-to-know” spy look.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Matthew said. “We have a full plate today, sir.”
Ben laughed.
“Oh, you were fucking with me?” Matthew’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes held his disdain for the man. “Fine, what are you working on?”
“How ‘bout if I show you?” Ben smiled.
Matthew glanced at Joseph. He nodded. Matthew followed Ben out of the room. They walked down the hallway to one of the smaller conference rooms across from the team’s offices. Ben opened the door. Matthew glanced at Ben and stepped inside.
The walls had been covered with white paper. Raz and Sergeant Dick Mead, Patrick Hargreaves last military assistant, were writing on the paper with sharpies. Matthew walked to the wall next to the door to take a closer look.
“This is Alex’s life,” Matthew said.
“Just the major events,” Raz said. He nodded hello to Matthew.
“What are you doing?” Matthew asked.
“It’s something Alex got from Wyatt,” Ben said. “He told her that it looked like a master plan, but really it was a lot of individual problems solved by the same problem solvers.”
“She told me,” Matthew said.
“I got to thinking,” Ben said. “What if everything was connected?”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to see what was going on in the world when these events happened,” Ben said. “For example, what was going on when Alex finished Special Forces training; or when she was assaulted by the Boy Scout the first time; or when the Boy Scout started working on the Fey Special Forces Team; or they were stuck in the desert by Cee Cee Joiner; or . . .”
Ben shrugged. Matthew touched one event and then another.
“It might be nothing,” Ben said.
“It doesn’t seem that way,” Raz walked toward Matthew. “It’s hard to accept, but for some reason, someone wants Alex out of the way at regular intervals. Look.”
Raz went to the paper.
“The brown markings are Cee Cee Joiner,” Raz said. “They’re easy to document, because we have good data on exactly when they happened and how long Alex was out of the way. You see the brown?”
Matthew nodded.
“Now step to the center of the room,” Raz said. “Dick? He needs a look.”
Sergeant Mead nodded and moved to the door.
Matthew stood near the center of the room. When he looked for the brown he noticed that the color was spaced on the timeline at regular intervals. There was only one gap that was longer than the others.
“What’s that?” Matthew asked.
“That’s when Alex came to get you,” Ben walked to the timeline. “She was working on finding and retrieving Joiner when she received the call about you.”
Ben pointed to a brown “X” on the wall.
“She stayed with you in Costa Rica,” Ben said. “She didn’t pick up Joiner until a month or so after she’d originally planned to collect him.”
“But we’ve been going on the assumption that they took us to get to her,” Matthew said. “Didn’t they attack the Fey Team?”
“They did,” Raz said.
“What if that’s not the reason you were taken?” Ben asked. “What if Joiner was supposed to keep her from discovering you were gone? Maybe they fought so hard to keep you because they didn’t get what they wanted from you.”
“Like what?” Matthew started.
“Exactly,” Ben said.
“Robert Powell assaulted Alexandra at Cheyenne Mountain here,” Sergeant Mead pointed to the red pen. “Step back.”
“His color is red?” Matthew asked.
“Oui,” Ben said.
Matthew sucked in a breath.
“What the hell?” Matthew turned to look at Ben.
“Exactly,” Ben said.
“And why?” Raz asked. “That’s the question we can’t seem to answer. Why Alex? Why is she the one that has to be out of commission?”
“What if it’s not Alex?” Matthew asked. “Maybe it’s John or Max or Master Super Spy here or you, Raz, and they could only get to Alex.”
Ben and Raz stared so long at Matthew that he shifted uncomfortably. Raz broke his stare by glancing at Ben.
“Never thought of it,” Ben said. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“How would I know?” Matthew asked. “Except . . . did you put up the first assault? The one with Trece, White Boy, and Jesse. You know, when they were in Bosnia?”
Ben and Raz looked at each other and then looked at Matthew.
“Do you remember the date?” Raz asked.
“Sure,” Matthew went to the wall and pointed. “It would be right . . . here.”
Raz picked up a green pen and made a mark on the wall.
“Mon Dieu,” Ben said under his breath.
“Why did you ask?” Raz’s hazel-grey eyes flicked to look at Matthew while his face stayed eerily still.
“Because Alex never told anyone about the assault in Bosnia,” Matthew said. “No one, not even Max. And there aren’t any intelligence files, or you guys would have known about what happened. If that assault fits the pattern then . . .”
“They are only after Alexandra,” Sergeant Mead said.
“It’s only about Alex,” Matthew said.
“But why?” Raz asked.
“We’ll find the why when we fill in the rest of this,” Ben said. “Who would you choose to help us?”
“Troy is with Alex,” Matthew said.
“They’re talking with his sons about the drones. Colin is with them too. How about Joseph? We found a notebook in his locker in the vault with the dates, locations, and actions of the Fey Special Forces Team. He has it in his office.”
“Good thinking,” Ben said.
“You know who would be perfect?” Matthew nodded. “Zack.”
“Zack?” Raz’s glance spoke his disbelief. “The pilot?”
“Hear me out,” Matthew said. “Zack is really good at putting things together – locations, times, distances, and stuff like that. He’s good with math too. He has to do it to set up our trips.”
“You’re right,” Raz said. “He’s compulsive about efficient flying. He never wants to fly from here to there unless it uses the least amount of fuel, takes the least amount of time, and is the safest. He has a formula to calculate everything.”
“Comes from flying Dragon Ladies,” Matthew said. “Plus, who knows? Maybe he’ll know something we don’t.”
“Can you spare anyone else?” Ben asked.
“Leena would be helpful,” Raz said. “In fact, if we have time, it might be interesting to track the team’s various incidents and assaults.”
“Like when I was held hostage and Leena’s assault,” Matthew said.
“Vince’s accident,” Raz said. “MJ’s IED.”
“You’re a team of survivors,” Ben nodded. “Almost everyone has been through something.”
“That’s what occurred to me,” Raz said. “If it’s a lot of problems and the same problems solvers, what if we’re a part of the problem, each of us.”
“Why?”
“Because we know Alex?” Raz shrugged.
“Or something about her,” Sergeant Mead said. “That makes good sense. Each of you might know a tiny piece that fits the larger puzzle which means . . .”
“Who knows?” Ben shrugged.
“What if the guys, you know, the Fey Special Forces Team, what if they were killed because they knew something – all of them knew the same thing,” Raz said. “They’d have to be killed.”
Ben shook his head. Raz shrugged.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Matthew said. “I’ll send in Leena, Zack, and Joseph.”
“Thank you,” Ben said.
Matthew nodded and left the room.
“You really don’t have any idea what this is about?” Sergeant Mead asked.
“No,” Ben said.
“None that you’d like to share?” Sergeant Mead asked.
“Actually, I have no idea,” Ben said. “This could be a waste of time or . . . Do you happen to know what Patrick was up to in his last service years?”
“Of course,” Sergeant Mead said.
“We’re going to need more paper,” Ben said.
Raz looked at the men and went back to work.
F
CHAPTER SEVEN
Saturday afternoon
November 6 – 2:34 p.m. MDT
Denver, Colorado
“Max?” Wyatt sat up in bed.
“No, love,” an accented woman’s voice said from the other side of the room.
“Who are you?” Wyatt asked.
“I’m Niamh Kelly Mac Kinney,” the woman said. Her face came into focus. She was older than Cian, but not by much. She had darker eyes and dark hair. She was knitting what looked like a homespun wool sweater. Wyatt realized what she’d said.
“Wait, what?” Wyatt shook his head to clear it. “How can you be a Kelly and Mac Kinney?”
“Can you think of a way?” the woman smiled.
Wyatt shook his head.
“I married a Mac Kinney,” the woman said. “Cian met Eoin through me and my Jack. ‘Course they were the same age, same school, same temperament.”
“Um . . . Mrs. Kelly-Mac Kinney . . .”
“You may call me Neev,” she said. “Cian calls me Neevie; Eoin does, as well. Johnny, well, he’s right proper with his London accent and all; he calls me Niamh.”
“Sounds like Neev,” Wyatt said.
“It would to your American ears, now wouldn’t it?” She smiled.
“Nice to meet you,” Wyatt said. “But . . . I’m naked and woozy from the drugs. Why are you here?”
She smiled at him. Setting down her knitting, she got up and opened the closet where his clothing was hanging. She gestured to his undergarments on the bed.
“You may get dressed,” she said. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Wait,” Wyatt said. “I know you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t here to help. It’s hard to get into our house and you weren’t here at Christmas so . . .”
“Who am I to you?” Neev smiled. “I’m the one who is going to help you become free of what was placed in your head.”
“I thought Alex did that last night,” Wyatt said.
“Yes, she’s talented at debriefing,” Neev said. “Close your eyes for a moment. Are you one hundred percent?”
Wyatt closed his eyes for a moment. He shook his head.
“Exactly,” Neev opened the door.
“But . . . and I mean no disrespect, but how can you help?” Wyatt asked.
“I do more than knit, my dear,” Neev said.
“It looks like you’re unknitting,” Wyatt said.
“Yes, unknitting is, in fact, what I’m best at,” Neev smiled. “Both on the yarn and with people.”
“With people?”
“Deprogramming,” Neev said. “Learned how to do it when I was a lass. I’ve got the same fancy degrees you have, as well. Plus, I’m pretty good at it; do it all over the world; and you’re family.”
“What about Mr. Mac Kinney?” Wyatt smiled.
“Where do you think I learned it?” Neev returned his smile. “Get dressed. We’ll go for a walk.”
Wyatt nodded to her, and she left the room. When she returned, she gave Wyatt a travel mug.
“What’s this?” Wyatt asked.
“Coffee,” she said. “You looked like you could use it. Tea for myself. Oh and . . .”
She held up a bag full of Cian’s lemon drop cookies.
“What about the drugs? I need to be sedated and . . .”
“That was just to keep you quiet until I could get here,” Neev said. “Sorry, we couldn’t think of any other way.”
Wyatt nodded.
“Do you mind that I’m gay?” Wyatt asked. “I assume you’re Catholic and . . .”
“Aren’t you Catholic?” Neev asked.
Wyatt nodded.
“No, I have a brother who’s gay; always has been, always will be,” Neev said. “He’s God’s perfect creature.”
“Cian’s gay?” Wyatt was too muddled to say anything else.
“You haven’t met his girlfriend? He’s quite serious about her,” Neev said. “Lovely girl. Kind of short, but then again, he’s not much bigger. We’ve only talked through the computer. I hope to meet her while I’m here. No, I have lots of brothers, as I understand you do.”
“I do,” Wyatt smiled and pulled on his heavy jacket. “Your gay brother, is he a priest?”
“That he was,” Neev said. Wyatt held her jacket for her. She smiled and let him help. “Moved to the Republic just after we immigrated. They even have a few babes. Adopted out of care. They live in Donegal, across the island from Belfast.”
Wyatt nodded. She stepped into the hallway. He stopped at the door.
“How does it feel to be out of that room?” Neev asked.
“Weird,” Wyatt said. “I feel . . . exposed.”
“Johnny told me there’s a lovely park nearby,” Neev said. “Would you care to show an old gal her way around your park?”
“Love to.” For reasons he couldn’t imagine, Wyatt held his elbow out to her, and she took it.
“I was a nun,” Neev said conspiratorially as they walked toward the stairs. “The love of my life was in prison. I wanted nothing else than to hide among the sisters.”
“What happened?” Wyatt asked.
“He showed up one
day right after vespers,” Neev said. “Since you know Cian and Johnny, I’ll tell you the truth. We Kellys aren’t great at those sacred vows. The chastity thing gets us every time.”
Wyatt laughed and opened the door. They went out into the late fall sunshine.
FFFFFF
Saturday afternoon
November 6 – 4:23 p.m. PDT
Pelican Bay Prison, Crescent City, California
Lined up against the wall, Trece stared straight ahead while the warden gave his “Welcome to Hell” speech. There were two scrawny guys on his left and a fat guy on his right. His entire being screamed at the injustice of his situation. He longed to let loose. He mentally walked through the moves to kill almost all of them before the guards shot him.
But he’d promised Alex he wouldn’t kill anyone.
He almost never broke a promise to Alex.
The closer he got to the eventual clang of the prison cell door, the louder the whisper of his childhood predator became in his head. “You belong right here. Servicing your masters. Don’t bother trying to escape. You’ll always return right here.” The words sent chills up Trece’s spine. He swallowed hard. He’d be lucky to survive this.
The warden stood right in front of him.
Trece had no idea what the man was saying. He looked around the man. As if to emphasize a point, the warden gestured with his right index finger. That man’s finger was getting awfully close to his chest. Trece used his decades of military discipline to not twist off the warden’s finger. Trece sneered and looked directly at the finger.
The warden had a black Vivaldi “F” tattooed on his right wrist.
Trece locked eyes with the man. This man had been rescued by the Fey Special Forces Team. The man gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Alex had talked to the warden.
Trece was not alone.
For the first time since the SWAT team had arrived, Trece took a full breath. The warden finished his speech and stalked off. The guards started moving them into the general population. Pelican Bay had two separate divisions – a solitary confinement called the Secure Housing Unit or SHU and a general population of violent offenders. Trece figured his best bet was to make trouble in the general population and get into the SHU right away. He could deal with twenty-three hours on his own. Frankly, with a two-year-old and an infant, he could use the rest.
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