by Cindy Gerard
“What about the serial numbers I lifted from the weapons?” Luke asked.
Tink glanced up from her laptop. “Dead end there, too. I tried tracking the numbers for their point of origin or to tie them to end-user certificates, but came up blank. CYA well in play.”
“Cover your ass,” B.J. explained when Val’s puzzlement must have shown.
“Tink dumped the SAT phone data last night,” Reed told the room at large. “With luck we’ll be able to back-trace the origin of the call, maybe get a fix on who was on the other end of the line. Should have some results soon.”
“I also convinced the two goons at the airport to give up an e-mail address they had been instructed to use to confirm they’d fulfilled the terms of their contract,” Luke said.
“We’re running that, too.” B.J. glanced at Nate. “But I’m not looking for much on that end.”
“Big effing bingo.” Crystal sat forward in her chair, her excitement drawing everyone’s attention. “I got a hit. And wow. This is interesting. Hold on. I’ll send it to the screen.”
Every pair of eyes in the room focused on the viewing screen, waiting for Crystal to do her magic. Her fingers scrambled across the keys as she manipulated the image of the merc and reduced it to fill only half the screen.
When another photograph popped up beside it, Val felt the blood drain from her face.
She heard Crystal’s voice through a fog. “Meet our North Korean medal recipient’s last known ‘associate.’”
“I’ve seen him before,” Val said breathlessly as she studied the photograph.
“Where?” Luke clasped his hands tightly together on the table.
She shook her head, continuing to squint at the image. “I . . . I’m not sure. I just know I’ve seen him.”
She knew she had seen that face. But try as she might, she couldn’t place where or when.
“Ryang Wong Jeong.” There was a lethal edge in Luke’s voice Val had never heard before.
“You know him?” Her heart drummed like crazy, her frustration growing as the missing piece of information she needed to connect his face to her memory continued to elude her.
“We know him well.” All attention shifted to Nate. “Anyone fluent in illicit international arms dealing knows about Ryang. He’s a big player in the North Korean political arena. Was highly favored by Kim Jong-il, but lost a little of his stock when the youngest son, Kim Jong-chul, took over the reins. Ryang’s been redoubling his dirty dealings ever since to impress the new head honcho.”
“Prince of a guy and a total whack job,” Reed added irreverently. “Jacket on him says his mother was a prostitute who used to pimp him out to her clients who had, shall we say, more exotic tastes. Fought his way out of the slums, joined the army. Started his climb. And now look at him. A self-made rat bastard.”
B.J. leaned back in her chair. “He was a busy boy paving his way to a power position in Dear Leader’s cabinet. Worked into the big time.”
“We figure he’s had a hand in close to a quarter of the international black market arms shipment deals made in the past three years,” Gabe added.
“All in the name of North Korean patriotism,” Crystal said caustically. “Rumor has it, Ryang had actually been considered as a successor to Kim Jong-il because of his ruthless dedication to the cause.”
“And because the oldest son, Kim Jong-nam, is a total fuck-up,” Nate added. “Ryang was counting on the younger son’s lack of experience to keep him out of the position. I’m thinking Ryang was beyond pissed when the kid was tagged for the spot anyway.”
It became very quiet in the room, and all of the team members suddenly seemed to be avoiding eye contact with Val. Sensing a dramatic shift in mood, she felt very ill at ease.
“I don’t understand. Why would this Ryang be after me?”
Nate looked pointedly at Luke, who heaved a troubled breath, then finally met her eyes. “Marcus heads up the House Committee on Armed Services, right?”
She blinked, shook her head. “Yes, but he participates in a lot of committees.”
“But as head of that particular committee, he has access to highly classified information that, if it landed in the wrong hands, could—”
“Wait.” An edgy panic had her hands sweating as she realized what he—what all of them—must be thinking. “You think Marcus is somehow linked to Ryang?”
She stood abruptly, and glared at Luke. “And that somehow he’s gotten me mixed up in some . . . I don’t know. Some arms deal?”
No one would look at her. They were all looking at Luke, waiting for his cue. Yet, their silence was answer enough. That’s exactly what they thought.
“No. You are so off base. Marcus would never do that. In the first place, he would never do anything illegal. In the second, he would never put me at risk. The idea is just ridic—”
She stopped midsentence when her synapses suddenly snapped her elusive memories of Ryang Wong Jeong’s image together.
A sick feeling roiled in her stomach. Heart racing, breath shallow, she jerked her attention back to the photograph. “Oh, God.” She dropped heavily into her chair.
“What is it?” Luke voice was edged with tension.
Wanting to deny what she now knew, but unable to fight the truth, she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “I . . . I just realized where I’d seen Ryang before.”
She forced herself to meet Luke’s eyes. “Several years ago, we were at home. I’d been in the kitchen. Marcus was in his office. I went to tell him that dinner was ready, but his door was closed and I knew he couldn’t hear me. I knocked once . . . then swung the door open. He . . . he whirled around, furious that I had interrupted. He snapped at me to get out and close the door behind me.”
“What had you interrupted?” Crystal asked in an encouraging tone.
“A video conference call.” She looked down at her hands again before meeting Luke’s gaze. “I caught a glimpse of Marcus’s computer monitor over his shoulder. That man . . . I saw his face on the monitor. Ryang was the man Marcus was talking to.”
22
The situation room fell deathly quiet. Val looked like she wanted to curl up and die because she’d just realized that her ex-husband had consorted with a North Korean official—an act that was as good as collaborating with the enemy.
Though Luke wanted to save her from this, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to soften the blow. A long moment passed. “Give us a minute, would you, guys?”
Without a word, everyone stood and walked out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. And even though Crystal squeezed Val’s shoulder in support on her way by, Luke got the very distinct impression that Val had never felt more alone in her life. Or more adrift.
Tears filled her eyes. “I know this looks bad. But there’s got to be some explanation. Marcus couldn’t be involved in any international criminal activity with that man.”
It was the last straw.
“Jesus, Val, Get a clue!” He was pissed at Chamberlin. Pissed for her, and yes, at her because she was still attempting to defend her piece-of-shit ex. “No one in the U.S. government communicates with a North Korean official without a directive from POTUS. And if the president does approve such a dialogue, you can damn well bet it makes international news. It’s not done in secret. Chamberlin is neck deep in something that reeks of espionage and treason. And whether you want to accept it or not, he’s somehow involved you in it, too.”
She looked so heartsick, he made himself back off. “Look . . . maybe he’s been forced into it. Maybe he’s being threatened.”
“Threatened?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Hell, I don’t know. Ryang might have threatened his life. Or yours. Or maybe Chamberlin’s being blackmailed.”
Her face paled, and suddenly she looked away.
And he knew in that instant that she was hiding something from him.
Fuck.
He leaned forward in his chair, clasped his hands together
on top of the table. “Did Marcus have secrets, Val? Secrets that if they got out could kill his career?” And maybe ruin a marriage, he thought as he saw her struggle and her pain.
But he couldn’t back off now. She needed to come clean, and she needed to do it now. So he spelled it out for her. “Consorting with North Koreans is a treasonable offense. Illegal black market gun shipments are violations of not just U.S. but international laws. Still, it happens all the time. Corrupt government officials will act on their own for personal gain. And if they aren’t corruptible, then men like Ryang find one who’s vulnerable and capitalize on it.”
She still wouldn’t look at him. “And you think Marcus was corruptible?”
“I think,” he said, “that it’s time we talked about the reason for your divorce.”
Half an hour later, Luke left Val alone to pull herself back together and deal with some very ugly, sordid truths. He found the team in the kitchen, where Reed and Crystal were rustling up lunch.
Nate leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest when Luke walked in the room. “And?”
Luke cupped a hand behind his nape, where a headache throbbed like a bitch. Then he gave them the nutshell version of the cheating husband story with a nice juicy twist.
“So,” Reed said when Luke finished, “the senator is a total prick. He not only cheated on Valentina, he used her to keep his secret and his closet door closed.”
Luke dropped into a chair, feeling like he’d just kicked a kitten. Repeatedly. “Amazing what old money can buy. Chamberlin managed to keep the lid on his homosexuality for years. If Val hadn’t caught him in a compromising situation, they might still be married.”
“Look, I’ve got no problem with what goes on between consenting adults, but I’ve got a major beef with a cheater. The bastard should be strung up for that alone,” Crystal sputtered, making it clear that she’d already developed an allegiance with Val. “Add on what’s starting to look like fraternization with the enemy, and the counts are stacking up against him.”
“How could a man keep something like that from his wife?” Rafe was clearly confounded. “She really didn’t suspect anything?”
“Yes and no,” Luke said. “They both had busy careers that didn’t allow for a lot of together time. The last few years were particularly grueling. Chamberlin always had a lot of excuses for why they couldn’t have sex, and yes, she was concerned and confused. She even blamed herself, worried that he’d lost interest.”
“Lost interest in a woman like that?” Reed looked flabbergasted. “Does she never look in a mirror?”
“Anyway, it wasn’t until she came home unexpectedly that the proverbial cat jumped out of the bag,” Luke went on. “Chamberlin was ‘entertaining’ in their bedroom. Guess it had been going on since before they were married.”
“I still don’t get it.” B.J. snagged a carrot stick from a veggie tray Crystal set on the table. “So he’s into men. So what? It’s not the fifties, for God’s sake. Why does he think he has to hide it?”
“Family? Political pressure? Who knows? Apparently he’s been in denial his entire life. He thought marrying Val would ‘cure’ him—and yeah, he actually used those words in a teary confession when he begged Val not to leave him or reveal his secret.”
“Like I said,” Crystal spoke up again, “I’ve got no beef with his sexuality and if anyone here does, then you’re not the people I think you are, but this guy sounds like a spineless piece of shit. He used Valentina to enhance what he calculated would be his best image.”
Luke couldn’t have put it better. Yet Val had still defended him.
“He’s a good person. He hates himself for what he did to me. He’s been in agony for years, confused, ashamed, and riddled with guilt.”
“And how do you feel about him?”
“I’m past the anger. I just feel regret. In his own way, he loves me. And a part of me will always love him. I don’t expect you to understand, but Marcus was the first man in my life who treated me like something other than a commodity. He helped me through my mother’s death. We believed in the same things. Championed the same causes. Or so I thought . . .”
Until she’d found out the bastard had been using her.
Luke glanced at Nate. “I think it’s time to have a little chat with Chamberlin. Joe’s in D.C. with Steph, right?”
Joe Green was a charter member of Task Force Mercy and the BOI team. These days he spent a lot of his downtime in D.C., and it was no secret why. Ever since Joe had been tagged for a temporary protection duty assignment for Stephanie Tompkins, the sister of the TFM team member they’d lost in Sierra Leone years ago, Joe and Steph had found as many excuses as possible to spend time together.
Nate confirmed Luke’s assumption. “I’ll give Joe a call. See if he can visit Senator Chamberlin, have a little come-to-Jesus meeting, and get this sorted out.”
B.J. looked troubled. “If Chamberlin is as guilty as he looks, he’s facing treason charges. I can’t see him talking.”
“Then we’ll have to make certain that Joe explains to him that he’s run out of options,” Nate said.
Luke checked his watch. It was an hour earlier in D.C. “Something tells me the senator is going to miss lunch.”
“Or lose it, when Joe’s finished with him,” Gabe said with a grim look as Nate left the room to make the call.
“A word, please, Senator Chamberlin.”
Christ, Marcus thought as he rushed down the steps of the Senate Office Building. Would these reporters just leave me alone?
“Sorry,” he said without turning around. “I’m already late for a meeting.”
“You’re going to want to take time to talk to me.”
The cold calculation in the man’s voice made him stop and turn around—to face a very big man. NFL-de-fensive-line big. He looked hard and mean and not one thing about him told Marcus that this guy was someone he wanted to talk to.
“Do I know you?”
“Not yet. Let’s go back to your office and have a chat. Or would you rather have this conversation about Ryang Wong Jeong in public?”
Marcus’s vision went foggy for a moment. Then fear, heavy and debilitating, roiled through his gut. “Who are you?” he demanded, fighting to keep his voice steady.
“Your office, Senator?” There was more warning than invitation in his tone.
“You’ve got five minutes,” Marcus said, and headed back up the steps.
He snapped at his staffer as they passed his desk.
“Call Senator Helfer and let him know I’ve been delayed.”
He closed his office door behind them and turned to face the stranger with as much authority as he could muster. “All right. I can give you five minutes.”
“You’re going to give me,” the man said, moving in hard and fast, “whatever I want.” Big hands grabbed his lapels and shoved him up against the wall. Hard.
Jesus. Jesus.
Marcus fought back a cry of pain as he was slammed up against the wall again.
“Did . . . did Ryang send you?” He was shit-his-pants scared. He’d been dodging Ryang’s calls, hoping to buy time, to find Val and fix this problem.
“What about Ryang?”
“Look, I know he’s upset. But I’m working on finding her. Tell him . . . tell him—”
“Ryang didn’t send me,” the man snarled, his face mere inches from Marcus’s. He was so close Marcus could feel the rage seeping from his skin, so close he could see the cords and veins in his thick neck bulging. “I’m a friend of a friend of Valentina’s.”
“Valentina? You . . . you have Val?”
“Let’s just say Ryang doesn’t have her—no thanks to you.”
Relief cut through the terror. “She’s okay?” he choked out. “God, please tell me she’s not hurt.”
“She’s fine. Look, I’ll make this easy for you. We don’t like what’s happening to her. And we don’t like the connections we’ve been making wit
h you and Ryang. So why don’t you enlighten me on what your arrangement is with him, and why he sent a squad of goons to Peru after Valentina?”
“I begged him not to do that. Not to hurt her.”
“Save the remorse, you slimy bastard. You’re in this neck deep.”
“No, you have to believe me. I’ve been trying to keep her from getting hurt.” Tears stung his eyes. What a mess. What a fucking disastrous mess.
“And look how well that’s worked for ya. I’m not a patient man, Senator. I want answers and I want them now.”
The man threw him down in his desk chair and leaned over him, wrapping his fingers around Marcus’s throat and squeezing so tight he couldn’t breathe.
“Are you ready to talk to me?”
Marcus felt his eyes bulging, his oxygen supply going south. He nodded jerkily, then gasped for breath and clutched his throat when the pressure let up.
“So talk,” the man demanded again. “And don’t leave anything out.”
23
“Well, you know what they say.” Crystal lifted the pitcher of sangria and refilled Val’s and B.J.’s glasses. Sunshine sparkled through the leafy trees shading their table at an outdoor café on a vibrant Buenos Aires street. “If it has tires, testosterone, or experience with Tomahawk missiles, it’s going to give you trouble.”
“I’ll drink to that,” B.J. said in solidarity.
Val couldn’t believe she was laughing. She’d laughed a lot during the past four hours, since Crystal had taken on the role of social director and personal shopper.
“You need clothes, right?” Crystal had pointed out after dragging her out of the situation room where Luke had forced her to take off her rose-colored glasses.
“We’re on hold until we hear back from Joe and our computer programs finish running, so let’s shop,” Crystal had reasoned with a grin. “Maybe get manis and pedis, too. It’s been a damn long time since I’ve had a girly day.”