Blackout

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Blackout Page 36

by Nance, John J. ;


  Kat mustered the willpower to force her eyes away. “Um, I guess we should … you know, find our respective beds and go sleep for eighteen hours,” she said, forcing the words out, but remaining in place.

  “If we must,” he agreed, reluctantly, and slowly got to his feet. He leaned over and extended his hand. She took it, holding on long enough to get to her feet, then pulled her hand away, avoiding his eyes.

  “So I’ll see you in the morning,” he said.

  “Yep,” Kat said, pretending to study the ceiling, the mantle, and the room. “I’ll wake you before going. I need to brief everyone on the care and feeding of the cabin.” She turned toward the bedroom Dallas had labeled the girl’s room.

  “Kat?” he said, his voice low and intense, causing her to turn back and look at him, almost transfixed. She cleared her throat. “Yes, Robert?”

  He smiled. “Good night.”

  She smiled back. “You, too.”

  chapter 36

  IN FLIGHT OVER LAKE CHELAN, WASHINGTON

  NOVEMBER 15—DAY FOUR

  8:25 A.M. LOCAL/1625 ZULU

  Deep shadows still clothed the eastern side of the fjord as the DeHavilland Beaver flew down the right side of Lake Chelan at 500 feet above the water. Kat sat in the copilot’s seat and watched the beauty of the landscape as it passed, changing from alpine slopes to arid hills toward the south end. Her thoughts reverted to the cabin, and the unexpectedly emotional departure.

  She had decided to approach it as a matter-of-fact exercise of logic under fire: They were all targets who should remain hidden, while she went off trying to find the answers that could make them safe.

  But as she briefed them in front of the fire at 7 A.M., the grim and apprehensive looks on every face set off a crushing flash of hopelessness, as if she were kidding herself to think she could guarantee their safety.

  “Look, a few days of safe haven can make all the difference,” she said.

  “Could they track us here, Kat?” Dan asked. “Tell us the truth.”

  She sighed and pursed her lips. “It’s unlikely. It would take an incredible amount of digging to even connect me to this place, let alone assume we’re here. I’m going to use a cash machine in Seattle today on the way out, and that will further confuse the speculation on where I’m hiding you.”

  “But they could still get a lucky break. That pilot could talk. They could find the van,” Dan continued.

  She fought the urge to spout unrealistic assurances. The five people before her had been through too much to be fed anything but the unvarnished truth.

  A wisp of fragrant wood smoke from the fire diverted her thoughts for a second as she searched for a way to spare them the realities of the dangers they still faced.

  “Yes, they could get lucky and find you, or me. We know they’re murderers with zero remorse or compassion, and we’ve gotten in the way of some plan. But that’s why I want you to stay in the cabin and out of sight. Dallas, I want you to drive me to the dock, and I’m going to leave a note for the caretaker so he won’t come by. I’ve shown you the guns and ammunition here, so you’re not defenseless.”

  “What if someone comes claiming to be an FBI agent, Kat?” Steve asked.

  She shook her head. “I … can’t give you a guarantee. I mean, you can’t just shoot anyone who shows up, but … first rule is to keep the shades and curtains drawn and do not answer the door under any circumstances. If someone does come poking around, split up. Someone go for the phone down by the dock and call me on the satellite phone. Steve, that’s you. Dallas, you greet them if they come in, and Graham and Robert can cover you from the back rooms with the guns.”

  “We’ll work out a plan,” Dallas said, her demeanor subdued.

  “But,” Kat continued, “if they flash FBI credentials, get names, ask them to come back in an hour, and meantime get to the dock phone and call me.”

  “That’s pretty weak, Kat,” Dan said.

  “I know it, but it’s the best we can do.”

  “I called my mother,” Steve said without warning.

  There was stunned silence in the room.

  “When, Steve?” Kat asked quietly.

  “I’m sorry if I messed up, but I couldn’t stand her crying over me and all.”

  “When and where did you call, Steve, and what did you tell her?” Kat asked, working hard to control the panic she felt.

  “From that grocery store in Seattle. While you all were buying food.”

  “Damn, boy!” Dallas said, rolling her eyes. “What’d you tell her?”

  “Nothing about where we were going. Honest. I said I was okay and with an FBI woman, but I couldn’t come home for a while because people were chasing us.”

  “Did you give names, Steve?” Kat asked.

  “Yeah. Yours. I’m sorry.”

  “But you did not say anything about heading for a lake, or a mountain cabin, or Chelan, or Stehekin? You’ve got to level with us, Steve.”

  He was shaking his head vigorously. “No. I didn’t say anything about that. She wanted me to tell her, but I said I couldn’t.”

  Kat sat frozen for a few seconds before nodding. “Probably no harm done. But please, whatever you do, all of you, do not try to phone any friends or relatives from that phone near the dock. It will be traced back here in a heartbeat.”

  “We all have lives, Kat,” Dallas said. “I’ve got a few people to reassure, too.”

  “I don’t,” Graham said with no expression in his voice.

  Kat raised her hand. “I know we—you’ve got friends and family who may think you’re dead. If you’re really worried, give me names and phone numbers and I’ll call them from a safe distance.”

  “Do you really think you can solve all this?” Dan asked quietly.

  “Maybe,” she said. “Depending on what Walter Carnegie left us. At least I can arrange to bring all of us in safely where those goons can’t touch us.”

  “Provided they don’t get you.”

  “There’s always that chance.” She took another deep breath as she studied her shoes and listened to the crackling of the freshly stoked fire. “Look, if I don’t come back within five days”—she raised her head and looked at them one by one—“take the ferry to Chelan together, rent a car or take a bus to Spokane, go to the FBI office there, and tell them everything you know.”

  Dan had hugged her unexpectedly at the door, the hug becoming a clench as he broke down and cried. His broad shoulders shook as he tried to speak. “Thank you … for all you’ve done to end this nightmare, Kat. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start bawling like a kid.”

  Kat hugged him back, patting his arm as Dallas massaged his shoulder. “It’s okay, Dan. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “Yeah,” he acknowledged, the tears still flowing from under the bandages on his eyes. He pulled away at last, though reluctantly.

  Graham Tash had tried to shake her hand, but that evolved into tears and another clinging hug, followed by a tentative hug from Steve Delaney.

  Robert was waiting by the door, afraid to hug her but determined not to part with the cold detachment of a handshake. Kat put her arms around him for a quick hug, feeling as awkward as he.

  “So,” she said with a forced smile as she zipped one of the parkas she’d found in the closet. “Ready, Dallas?”

  The DeHavilland Beaver had just arrived when Kat stepped out of the beat-up old Dodge and waved a quick good-bye to Dallas, who got out to give her a sisterly hug. “Stay safe, girl, and get back here,” Dallas said.

  Kat greeted the pilot and handed him her ubiquitous roll-on bag before negotiating the small ladder. The lines were cast off and the engine started when something landed on the rear of the right pontoon.

  “What the hell?” the pilot muttered, trying to look out to the right. “See anything back there?” he asked Kat.

  “Someone’s on the float. I can’t see …”

  The right rear passenger door was flung open, and the interlop
er threw a small duffel bag on the seat before hauling himself in and turning with a grin toward Kat.

  “Robert! What …?”

  “Remember what we talked about last night? Teamwork?”

  “You’re supposed to stay back there and watch the others,” Kat said, consternation competing with surprise in her voice.

  “Dallas is a force of nature. She can handle it alone. I think she could take Saddam and the Republican Guard single-handedly.”

  The pilot had throttled back to idle, but the Beaver still drifted slowly toward the middle of the upper bay. The fragrance of the lake mixed with the scent of pine trees as the water lapped gently at the floats. He looked over his shoulder, waiting for the two of them to resolve it.

  “Robert, dammit …”

  “Want me to leave?”

  “I work alone.”

  “Not what you indicated yesterday.”

  “This could be dangerous, for God’s sake!”

  “I’m the one who ended up in a crash and running through the jungle, evading cutthroats. Besides, I need to get shot at at least once a year to reclaim my combat reporting credentials. It’s a currency requirement.”

  Kat was shaking her head. “No. I’m responsible for—”

  “Not for me, you’re not! We may decide to be responsible for each other as a team, but don’t forget, I’m a damn good investigative reporter. I know how to look under rugs, I’ve got extensive contacts, too, and you’re going to need all that kind of help you can get. And this is too good a story, and I’m in the middle of it. It’s unreasonable to ask a reporter to sit on his tail in a beautiful setting where he might actually enjoy himself, thus pissing off his editor and imperiling his job. Now. Still want me to go back and baby-sit?”

  She looked at the floorboards and shook her head again before meeting his eyes. “Yes … no. All right. You’re deputized.”

  “Now you have that power?” he asked.

  “Not really,” Kat said and looked at the pilot. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  chapter 37

  EN ROUTE TO SEATTLE

  NOVEMBER 15—DAY FOUR

  NOON LOCAL/2000 ZULU

  By noon Snoqualmie Pass was twenty miles behind them and the Seattle area was visible in the distance. Kat glanced over at Robert as she drove. He had been deep in thought, but stirred suddenly and turned toward her.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s find a motel.”

  She gave him a startled look. “Excuse me? I’m not that kind of FBI agent.”

  Robert was smiling. “I thought that would get your attention. No, I’m serious. If we can hole up and have time to work the phones, maybe I can save us a trip to D.C.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve got a friend at the Library of Congress. If he can get me modem access to the computer, there’s no need to go there in person.”

  Kat smiled energetically. “Great! That’s worth a try. Maybe we can get a line on Dr. Thomas as well. We don’t have much time.”

  “Let’s get two connecting rooms, and thus two phones.”

  “Appropriately conservative, Mr. MacCabe. Any hotel preferences?”

  He shook his head. “Something between a Ritz Carlton and a Motel Six.”

  She nibbled her lip for a few seconds. “Robert, about SeaAir, I—”

  He raised his hand. “Kat, please. We’ve been talking about this and racking our brains for hours, and what did we solve? Nothing. All we have is speculation. We know there’s a group out there, we know they’ve got at least one exotic eye-killing weapon, we know that somehow our government is frightened of them, we suspect a mole at the FBI, and other than that, we’re chasing our tails.”

  “There’s a pattern here, Robert, and Carnegie’s message reinforces it.”

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll bite. What pattern?”

  “Official misconduct.”

  “Say again?” he asked.

  “Somehow, this involves something an agency of the U.S. government has done or become involved in that is so wrong, they’re scared to death of exposure.”

  Robert fell silent for a few seconds. “You … aren’t suggesting we’re being chased by an arm of the U.S. government?”

  “Oh, Lord no!” Kat said quickly. “But whoever these vermin are, when we uncover the full story, this administration is going to be terribly embarrassed.”

  “That’s a sobering thought, Kat, but let’s stop talking about it until we get into Walter’s file. My brain is spinning.” Robert reached over and turned on the radio as they continued on I-90 across Lake Washington, tuning across a variety of stations before settling on a newscast reporting the initial response to a major airline accident in Chicago.

  “Turn that up!” Kat said.

  … came down in a residential area approximately four miles from Chicago O’Hare Airport. A massive rescue effort is under way at this moment, but there are no initial reports on how many people may have survived. There are numerous eyewitness reports that the Airbus A-three-twenty was about a thousand feet off the ground after takeoff when it did a slow roll upside down and came down nose-first. Witnesses reported a tremendous noise and an immediate plume of smoke from the site. We talked a few minutes ago with an FAA air traffic control supervisor who confirmed that there were no distress calls or any other indication of trouble before the crash. We’ll continue to …

  Kat turned the radio off and looked at Robert MacCabe, whose face was as pasty-white as hers. She swallowed hard. “Undoubtedly …” Kat began.

  “Yeah. I’m thinking the same thing.”

  “Could be something else, of course. Flight control failure, some sort of massive aerodynamic failure of flaps, or … or a speed brake on one side. Could even be an encounter with the wingtip vortex of another large aircraft.”

  Robert was nodding slowly. “But it probably isn’t. Accidents don’t happen much anymore. Here’s the third inside six weeks. We know now two were from the same cause. You said last night it was going to happen again.”

  Kat hit the dashboard with the heel of her hand, startling Robert. He looked over to see her jaw set, her lips pressed tightly together in anger.

  “Damn! DAMN! Damn, damn, damn, damn!”

  “Kat?”

  “SHIT!” she cried out.

  “You okay?”

  She snapped her head around to look at him. “NO, I am not ‘okay.’ I hate being asked if I’m okay when I’m obviously not.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. This is my agony. God! I can’t believe I let you get on that flight in Hong Kong when I should have known you’d be a target, and then I let the evidence, the weapon, and one of the felons slip away in Honolulu because—”

  “Because you fell victim to a very professional, very well-done charade that would have fooled anyone.”

  “Robert, please don’t try to make me feel better. The one thing my dad drummed into me was personal responsibility. You screw up, you admit it and take the consequences.”

  “So how did you screw up, Agent Bronsky? By not being clairvoyant?”

  “Precisely,” she snapped.

  “Look,” he said, “personal responsibility is appropriate when there’s been a real lapse, but here …”

  Kat let out a long sigh and signaled for a right turn. She braked the minivan hard and steered onto the shoulder of the freeway, coming to a lurching halt in a cloud of dust and rearranged gravel.

  “What are you doing?” Robert asked in alarm.

  “Look at me, Robert.”

  “I’m looking.”

  “I’m thankful you see me clearly as a female, and I know your male instincts are to protect me, but you’re dealing with someone who is as professional and responsible as you are. Do NOT try to protect me from the consequences of being in the profession I’ve chosen.” She hesitated. “This is why I was going to come alone.”

  “Kat, I wasn’t trying to protect
you.”

  “Yes, you were! You were trying to protect the little girl from feeling bad because she screwed up big-time. I can handle my own self-recrimination.”

  “So, if I understand this, I can’t say anything to you that’s supportive?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just don’t need you chasing away my faults.”

  “Oh, okay. You want only faults? Very well, I’ll give you a fault. You’re too focused on the job to pay attention to the underlying feelings of those around you.”

  “What? That’s bull! I’m a psychologist.”

  He hesitated, then waved his hand as if to dismiss the subject. “Let’s drop it.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. You opened the door. Give me an example.” Robert had shifted his gaze to the road ahead, but Kat leaned around to catch his eye. “You can’t, can you? You know very well I’m sensitive to the feelings of those around me.”

  Robert’s eyebrows flared as he turned to meet her gaze. “Really? Then how come you didn’t know how much I wanted to kiss you yesterday?”

  A stunned silence followed, Robert as surprised as she by what he had blurted out. His hand went up instantly as he looked away. “I’m sorry, Kat, I didn’t mean … I mean, that just slipped out.”

  She reached over and turned his face back to hers. “I’m glad. And I did know, because I was feeling precisely the same way. It was just the wrong place and the wrong time.”

  “Wrong time, maybe. Definitely not the wrong place.” He looked at her for several seconds, and a smile slowly spread across his face. “What rotten timing,” he said. “I find a woman who really turns me on, but it’s in the middle of a terrorist crusade.”

  “Was that why you came this morning?” she asked quietly.

  He shook his head no. “That was part of it, but the major reason was precisely what I told you: the story, the chase, and the need for two minds on the same problem.”

  There was a faint electronic warble in the background.

  “Is that your beeper?” Robert asked.

  Kat reached down to her purse and flipped it open, intensifying the warble. “Yes. I guess I was trying to ignore it.” She adjusted the screen and pressed the button, her expression darkening as she read. “It’s Jake, ordering me one last time to contact him and make arrangements to surrender you and the others as material witnesses.”

 

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