The Target

by David Baldacci

  Julie shot a glance at Shepherd and then looked over at Reel. “So where is your real daughter?”

  Reel looked down at her hands. She said quietly, “I don’t know. I had to give her up for adoption a long time ago.”

  “Why?” Julie wanted to know.

  “Because I was really still just a kid myself and I had no job. And then the job that was offered to me didn’t provide for a baby in tow.”

  “Right,” said Julie, both looking and sounding disappointed.

  Reel got to her feet and turned to Shepherd. “Lesley, I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

  Shepherd took Reel’s offered hand and shook it. “Are you kidding? My honor.”

  Reel turned to Vance. “Can I ask a favor?”

  “How can I say no?” said Vance.

  “Can I take a couple of photos?”

  “Of what?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  The two women left. Robie turned to Julie.

  “You sure you’re okay? They didn’t…you know, do anything to you?”

  “Other than smacking me around, the creeps left me alone. But that wouldn’t have lasted. The head guy was a psycho.”

  She drew closer to Robie. “Did you know that Jessica didn’t know where her daughter was?”

  “No. I just recently found out she had a daughter. She’d never talked about it before.”

  “Do you think she regrets it? I mean, giving up her kid?”

  “I don’t know. I guess most mothers regret it, don’t they?”

  Julie shrugged and looked somber. “Some don’t have a choice. Like my mom. But she always wanted me back.” She thought for a few seconds. “I think Jessica regrets it.”

  “I think you’re right.” Robie put an arm around her shoulders. “And I know Jerome will be glad to get you back.”

  “Are you going to make this, like, a habit?”

  “What?”

  “Saving me.”

  She was joking, but Robie frowned. “I hope I never have to again, Julie. Considering it was our screwup that got you involved in the first place.”

  “We got out okay.”

  “No one can count on that to keep happening.” He was about to say something else when a woman appeared in the doorway.

  Robie looked at her in surprise.

  It was DD Amanda Marks. She smiled and came forward.

  “You must be Julie. I’ve heard quite a bit about you from a friend of yours.”

  “Jessica?” asked Julie.

  Marks nodded. “I’ve been told that everything turned out all right.”

  “It did,” said Robie. “And thanks for the assist.”

  “I almost never get an opportunity to give back. It actually felt good.”

  Reel came back into the room, trailed by Vance. Reel looked relieved about something. Vance actually looked pleased. Reel shook her hand.

  “Thanks, this means a lot.”

  “I truly hope it works out for you.”

  “Oh, I think it’ll work out just fine now.” She looked over and saw Marks. “I’d like to finish this now, ma’am, if that’s okay.”

  “With my blessing, Agent Reel. With my blessing.”

  Julie glanced sharply at Robie. “What are they talking about?”

  “I’m not sure,” admitted Robie.

  Reel called out to him. “Hey, Robie? You want to be in on the end of this thing?”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I’d prefer to show rather than tell.”

  Julie whispered to him, “You better go. And you better tell me everything that happens.”

  Robie rose and headed toward Reel. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Not that far away, actually. We can take a car. But I need to make a phone call first and get things set up.”

  “Just one phone call?”

  “One is all it takes, if you call the right person.”

  Chapter

  48

  IT WAS RAINING. EVEN IN here Earl Fontaine could hear the drops colliding against the roof of the prison. He could hear the wind howling too. He snuggled more comfortably in his hospital bed. Now that it was over, he knew he could die a happy man. But then again, he might just hang on a little longer. He had a bed, a roof over his head, meds for the pain, three squares a day, even if they were in the form of liquid shot into his gut via a tube, and a good-looking personal doctor to look after him. Not a bad life, actually.

  He glanced over at the bed once occupied by Junior. He smiled. He had no idea how such a moron had been able to kill so many people and elude capture for as long as Junior had. Earl had only had to call his “friend” and big Albert had been put on the case, first to hide the knife in Junior’s bed. Then it had been up to Earl to get the idiot to pull it out. Well, that had been easy enough. When Junior’s fingers had touched the knife, his fate had been sealed. Albert had been instructed on exactly what to do. Grab Junior, keep the knife clamped in his hand, pretend to struggle and then kill the little son of a bitch, and kill him good.

  And if there was one thing Albert was good at, it was killing. Earl wondered if he had been the one designated to kill Sally. He hoped so. She would be dead as dead could be.

  He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes as the rain continued to pound down. He slept for a while, figuring that a nap before his last round of meds would be good.

  “Earl?” A hand grasped his shoulder. “Earl?” the voice said more urgently.

  Earl slowly opened his eyes. He had been dreaming about the female doctor. It had been a damn fine dream. She had been naked and tied up and he was about to—

  “What?” He blinked and slowly rolled over on his back to stare up into the face of the same male nurse he’d talked to before. “What is it? Time for my meds?”

  He looked at the big clock on the wall. He’d only been asleep an hour. It wasn’t time for his medication. The rain was still falling outside and the wind made the old prison shudder under its assault.

  Earl grimaced. “What’d you wake me up for? Ain’t time for my meds, boy, not by a long shot.” He was upset that his dream had been interrupted. He started to close his eyes once more.

  The nurse shook him once more. “It’s not about your meds, Earl. You got a visitor. Well, visitors.”

  Earl blinked more rapidly. “Visitors? It’s nighttime, boy. Ain’t no visitors allowed after dark. You know that.”

  “Well, they’re here.”

  “Who is?”

  The nurse pointed to his left. “Them.”

  Earl looked over, and when he saw them his heart almost stopped.

  Jessica Reel and Will Robie stood there, their hair slicked down and their clothes dripping from the inclement weather they had just come through.

  Earl sat up so fast one of his IV lines became tangled in his bedsheets.

  The nurse disentangled it and stepped back. He looked at the expression on Earl’s features and then at the one on Reel’s and he said quickly, “I’ll…I’ll just let you folks visit, then.”

  He turned and hurried off.

  Reel stepped forward, with Robie right behind her.

  “Sally?” said Earl. He attempted a grin, but it failed about halfway to his mouth. “What you be doing here, girl?”

  “Just coming to say goodbye, Earl.”

  “Hell, you already done that. Not that I ain’t glad to see you again.”

  Reel ignored this as she stepped closer. “And I have something to show you too.” She slipped from her pocket a picture and held it out to him. “I think you’ll recognize him even if he looks a little pale.”

  Earl put out a shaky hand and took the photo from her. When he gazed down at the picture he immediately gasped.

  “Albert, I think, is his name,” said Reel. “He’s dead, of course, but you should still be able to tell it’s him.”

  “How did he die?” said Earl in a croaky voice.

  “Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that. I killed him. Broke
his neck. For such a big guy he went fast. Which was good for me. I had other pretend-Nazis to deal with.”

  Gaping, Earl looked up at her, his eyes wide. “You done killed him? Him!”

  “I don’t think I ever told you what I do now, Earl. On behalf of the American people I take scum like Albert and make sure they never hurt anyone ever again. Like this bastard.”

  She pulled another picture from her jacket and dropped it on Earl’s belly. He took it with a trembling hand, his face the color of ash.

  “This is one of your buddies too. Leon Dikes. I knew him a long time ago. We recently got together. At his insistence. Apparently he was hanging around the prison and coincidentally saw me when I came to visit you. Talk about a small world.”

  Earl looked up into her face. “Did you kill him too?”’

  Reel made a rough oval with her hands and then ripped them apart. “Highly effective move. Death is instant. Before he died Leon sent his regards and told you he was sorry your plan didn’t work.”

  Earl dropped the photo like it was a snake about to bite him. “Ain’t know what you talkin’ ’bout.”

  “Sure you do, Earl. Don’t back away from the credit for all this now. It really was very clever, and I don’t give compliments easily, I can assure you.”

  “You making no sense. Now, you got nothing else, I’m going back to sleep.”

  “Well, I think your nap will have to wait.”

  “Why’s that?” snapped Earl, his confidence returning. “You got nothing or else you woulda done brought the cops with you. What they gonna do to me anyway? Arrest me? Put me in jail? Shit!” He laughed until he choked.

  “No, no police. No new charges. The old ones will suffice.”

  “So like I said, get your ass gone. I need my rest.”

  “But you’re doing great. A lot healthier than you were.”

  He sat up straighter. “What the hell you talking ’bout? I got terminal cancer. I ain’t getting better.”

  “Yeah, but there’s more to it than that.”

  She pointed to her right. Earl looked that way and saw the female prison doctor striding toward them.

  “Dr. Andrews, thank you for coming in tonight,” said Reel.

  Andrews gave a forced smile. “My pleasure. Wouldn’t have missed it, actually.”

  Reel said to Earl, “I explained to Dr. Andrews her role in getting you and me back together. And also how that led to a very nice visit with your good friend Leon Dikes and his group of merry neo-Nazi freaks.”

  “Yes, it was fascinating, Mr. Fontaine,” said Dr. Andrews, who looked like she wanted to pull a gun and fire a round right into Earl’s brain.

  “I ain’t got no idea what you two gals are jabbering ’bout,” said Earl. “No idea a’tall.”

  “Well, let’s see if I can make it crystal-clear for you,” said Reel. “First, Dr. Andrews has some terrific news for you.”

  Earl looked at Andrews. “What news?”

  “While your cancer is still terminal, it’s been determined that your condition has stabilized.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “That means that you can leave the hospital ward and this prison. You’re being sent back to solitary confinement on death row.”

  Earl’s face collapsed. “But they can’t execute me.”

  Andrews smiled. “Unfortunately, that’s true, but you can be cared for there, although I have to say it won’t be nearly as pleasant as here. And you will have no human contact with anyone other than the prison personnel.”

  “You…you can’t do that,” Earl protested.

  “Well, actually we can,” said another voice.

  A man in a suit walked in with four beefy guards behind him.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” exclaimed Earl.

  Reel looked behind her. “The warden of this fine facility and his men are here to take care of your transfer back to death row at the Holman Correctional Facility.”

  There was a flash of lightning at the barred window, followed by a vicious crack of thunder.

  The warden waved his men forward. “Just roll the bed and all right out. The transport vehicle is waiting.”

  “You can’t do this,” sputtered Earl. “You can’t.”

  “Get him out of here,” ordered the warden. “Now!”

  The guards unhooked Earl’s shackles from the wall and rolled his bed, with him screaming his head off, out of the room. They heard his shouts for another minute before a heavy door clanged shut and then Earl Fontaine was heard no more.

  Reel turned to the warden and Andrews. “Thank you,” she said.

  “No, thank you,” said Andrews. “To think that bastard used me to…to try and accomplish all these horrific things.”

  “Damn right,” said the warden. “We might not be able to execute him. But we can make whatever time he has left as unpleasant as legally possible. And we will.” He marched off.

  Andrews said, “When I got your call I really couldn’t believe it. I thought I was helping a father find his daughter. I should have known that Earl Fontaine was a man who didn’t care about that.”

  “He took a lot of people in, Doc,” said Reel.

  “But never again,” said Robie.

  “No, never again,” added Reel.

  After thanking Andrews again for her help, they turned and left the prison.

  “Feel better?” asked Robie when they climbed into the car after running across the parking lot as the rain continued to pour.

  “Actually, Robie, I don’t feel anything. And maybe that’s for the best.”

  Robie put the car in gear and they left the Alabama prison, and with it Earl Fontaine, behind forever.

  Chapter

  49

  THE NORTH KOREANS HAD NO facility like the Burner Box. They didn’t have the budget for it. No country spent what the Americans did on defense or internal security. But Chung-Cha felt like they made up with effort and dedication what they lacked in funding.

  She ran through the streets of Pyongyang until she could run no more. And then she kept going. The State Security Department had a generic gymnasium facility where she built up her strength. They had shooting ranges deep underground where she worked on her aim, reaction time, and motor skills in the use of all sorts of firearms and other weapons. There, against only men who were far larger and stronger than she was, she drilled on certain close-quarter combat techniques, some of which she had employed to subdue Lloyd Carson in Romania.

  Her training wasn’t only physical. She could speak fluent English as well as three other languages.

  But what she really excelled at, in addition to remaining calm under the most extreme circumstances, was martial arts. There had never been a man to beat her. Not even several of them. She attributed this to her