“Which leads me to the next problem: where this general has the weapon. We don’t know. Echo and Foxtrot will be in the area in two hours.
“Gentlemen, if that’s not enough, we also think Raider is here, that the lady who drowned was one of his contacts. Raider knew we were deploying to stop the shipment and he sent it another route, turning the recovery mission into an ambush. He is our best lead to General Kerhi and where he stored the weapon, what his intentions are. We need to find out who Raider is.”
“You think he’s still around?” Lincoln’s operational officer asked.
“We don’t know. We’re taking what precautions we can. The only people who know Echo and Foxtrot are responding are in this room; I had the orders cut out of Virginia.”
Is Charles Raider? Joe tensed at the thought.
Iris Wells drowned.
Ryan saw Charles with Iris.
Charles appeared in Kelly’s life just when Echo and Foxtrot were diverted. . . .
Is he Raider? The thought was intense, alarming, and felt all too true. How better to monitor their movements than to be friends with someone very close to the SEALs, the widow of a SEAL? Kelly would never knowingly give any information about them—but to someone who knew her, it would be pretty easy to learn when he was gone.
Joe closed his eyes. Misha.
When someone wanted to know he was gone or when he was back, it would not be that hard. They didn’t have to watch him; they could simply watch Kelly.
Charles. The man was Kelly’s friend. To think he was Raider was stretching to incongruity. Charles passed top-secret security clearances, was trusted by the military establishments of two countries. He was wealthy and had no reason to steal.
Kelly would be appalled at what he was considering.
Joe slipped out of the briefing with a question that had to be answered immediately.
He found Ryan in the visitor’s lounge where he had left him, the teen paging through a golf magazine. He stopped directly in front of his chair. “Ryan, who took the medallion?”
The teen paled. “I did, sir.”
“I don’t think so. Where was it?”
“What?”
“When you took it—where was it located?”
“On the table in her hallway.”
“Try the kitchen counter by the stove. Did Lynnette take it?”
“No!”
“Then who did?” Joe didn’t have time to figure out how to help the teen deal with the truth. “It’s very important that I know. Did your dad take it?”
Ryan looked down, obviously miserable. He nodded. “I found it in his office. It was in the drawer with a picture of my mom,” he whispered.
Ryan had returned the medallion, accepted the blame for having stolen it, and lied to cover for his dad. Joe had to admire his courage.
It made no sense that Charles had taken the medallion.
Charles was Raider. The implications took his breath away. And Kelly was with him.
* * *
“We need to find this boat.”
Joe sketched everything he knew to his boss Lincoln. Kelly was with Charles. It scared Joe to death. Iris had apparently been a contact for Charles; she was dead. Kelly had unknowingly been used for the same purpose. They had to find that boat—and fast. But where were they going? Why had Ryan been left behind?
Lincoln looked over at him. “I’ll get every asset I can pull looking for that boat. In the meantime, get a few of your men and get to Charles’s house. Check his office. Get me anything that might indicate this is our man. Stopping this device is our number-one priority, so use some discretion, but don’t let a locked door stop you. He’s signed military waivers with those security clearances—and he just became a potential military security risk.”
Joe nodded, knowing information this explosive required that they act immediately. He’d get that proof. He was desperate to find some clue as to where Charles was with Kelly. “What about his office downtown?”
“See what you get at the house, and I’ll see about getting us into his downtown office. Hopefully, we’ll have located the boat by then.”
* * *
It wasn’t the best solution, but in the end Joe took Ryan with him and Boomer. Cougar and Wolf came along in another car following them. He limited his explanation to the basics—that they were going to do what was necessary to find Charles. Ryan had picked up the seriousness of what was going on and was nervous. But there was little Joe could do about that because the truth was even harder to deal with. They had sent base MPs in civilian clothes to watch the pier.
Ryan led the way once they reached his home, directing them to Charles’s office.
Joe was impressed with the room. The man loved fighter aircraft and he knew the men who flew them. The photographs and the signatures on the wall were a Hall of Fame from more than one country.
The picture on the corner of the desk of Ryan in a baseball uniform gave him pause. Joe sat down at the desk and started going through the calendars and appointment books.
“Boomer, there has to be a safe here somewhere.”
“It’s behind that painting.” Ryan pointed to one behind the desk. Boomer lifted down the picture to take a look.
Joe glanced at Ryan. “Do you know the combination?”
Ryan shook his head.
“You said you found Kelly’s medallion here in his office. Where?”
Ryan came around the desk and opened the third drawer on the left. “Here.”
Joe picked up a letter and recognized Kelly’s handwriting on the envelope. He opened it and found a thank-you note for the roses Charles had sent her. He picked up the picture beneath it.
“That’s my mom, Amy.”
“She’s very pretty. Any particular reason he keeps this picture in a drawer? There are other pictures of her here in the office.”
“I think it was Dad’s favorite.”
Joe glanced at the back of the frame and opened it to slip out the photo on the chance something was written on the back of it. It was blank. Figuring out the combination to the safe was going to take more time than they had. “Boomer, we need to get into that safe. Just don’t destroy the contents.”
Boomer reached for the case he had brought along. “Consider it done.”
* * *
Joe had come here expecting to prove Charles was behind this. He was still stunned when they found the evidence in the safe to prove it. The cutting charge Boomer had used had sliced into the metal around the lock, and the safe now rested open and accessible. For Kelly’s sake, and Ryan’s, Joe had been hoping he was wrong. There wasn’t much: a telephone number, wire transfer accounts, some handwritten notes, one of which read like a diary page of the deal, and activation codes. Everything else appeared to have been shredded.
He picked up his phone and punched in a code to relay the call through encryption. “Lincoln, we’ve got enough to prove it’s him. The activation codes are here; they may not have been sent yet.”
“Information on the buyer?”
Joe scanned the pages. “Enough the intelligence guys may be able to figure out where General Kerhi has the device.”
“Get everything back here, fast.”
“Sir, the boat.” Joe was acutely aware of the time running out.
“We’re working on locating it. As soon as it’s found, there’s a helicopter waiting with your name on it. The rest of your men are already being briefed.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Thirty-Three
* * *
“There’s the boat,” Cougar shouted. Joe leaned over to his side of the helicopter to watch the boat as they raced toward it. They were miles from shore; it had taken the relayed call from a spotter plane to send them this way. The boat rocked in the waves, apparently dead in the water. No one was above deck. The boat was hit broadside by a wave pushing it east.
Joe coolly ordered the pilot to take them into a hover. He looked across at Wolf. “Get ready!”
>
Members of the platoon took positions on the skids. They fast-roped down to the boat, eight of them touching down on deck within seconds of each other, all of them prepared for trouble.
Joe tagged Cougar and pointed to the steps. They moved to check below.
He froze at the bottom step. In the enclosed area of the boat, the smell of blood was sharp enough to be noticed.
The galley was clear. What had once apparently been a small office had been ransacked, but it was also empty. The cabin door was ajar. Cougar slowly pushed it open and it stuck, something blocking it. The blood on the floor was enough to indicate why. Cougar signaled him back and Joe negated it. If it was Kelly—
His hand on the door, he eased through the opening. He wanted to gag.
Charles was dead. A single shot to the heart.
What was he going to tell Ryan? Flawed or not, Charles and Ryan had been very close.
He hesitated, then moved toward the small bathroom. Kelly had last been seen going below with Charles.
Charles was dead.
Kelly was dead. His heart stopped.
It was just a matter of finding her body.
“Get out of there! The ship is rigged to blow!” The warning tore through his earpiece.
“Kelly!”
“It’s ticking. Move!”
Joe rushed back toward the stairs, up to the deck, obeying Boomer because it was ingrained to trust his men to make the right split-second call.
He barely reached the deck with Cougar before he heard the first part of a detonation, the primer light. Going deep in the water was instinctive.
When they finally resurfaced, there was nothing left of the boat but burning fuel and shattered pieces of wood.
“Kelly!”
* * *
Joe was aboard the Coast Guard cutter Hanson, the vessel coordinating the search. He heard a boat come alongside and shortly thereafter his boss came below. “Let’s find some privacy, Bear.”
Joe followed him. He felt cold . . . and old.
“I’m sorry, Bear.”
“My fault, sir. I didn’t see the signs in front of me. He was using her, and I never put it together.” It destroyed him to put that reality into words. The compassion in Lincoln’s eyes didn’t help. Joe braced his feet. “What happened with the device?”
“We hit the site in Taiwan. The situation is contained. The device was taken out of Taiwan space roughly twenty minutes before their government tried to seize it from us as being on their sovereign territory.”
“Any SEALs hurt?”
“Nothing serious.”
“The general?”
“Arrested by his government.”
Joe felt at least some relief at that news. “I’m glad it went down the right way.”
“We have to suspend this search at sundown and resume in the morning.”
Joe looked at his boss, wanted to plead, but saw so much sympathy that he knew it was all his boss could give him. “She’s alive. I have to believe that.”
“The Coast Guard picked up three men in a speedboat racing for Mexico; the two who were seen near Ryan on Charles’s boat are adamant that they left Kelly with Charles.”
“They also said Charles was alive. There is no way Kelly would have killed him.”
“Even if she found out he was responsible for her husband’s death?”
Joe shook his head. “The cabin door was ajar when Cougar first reached it. The men said it was locked. Another lie. Kelly got off that boat. Either because they took her with them or because she got out of that cabin after they left.”
“The boat was found drifting at sea seven miles from shore. We’ll resume at daybreak. It’s the best I can do, Joe.”
* * *
She wasn’t going to be found before nightfall, and this time it was a relief. Kelly locked her hands into the life vest straps. Her headache was horrible, so horrible it made her nauseous, and the waves made her head bounce against the life jacket when they hit her from behind, adding flaring pain to the equation. Her efforts to swim to shore had ended when she almost hit a jellyfish.
She closed her eyes. She knew she was avoiding the shock of what she had heard, seen, and she wished she could cry.
“We aren’t going to be getting off this boat, Kelly. If I give you an opening, can you get to the top of those stairs and over the side?” They had been moving out to sea for hours now, and with it had gone Charles’s hope that he could get them out of this situation.
“Charles—”
“I’m serious. I know how long a swim it will be back to shore, but you’re going to have to risk it. The odds are better.”
“What about you?”
“I got you into this; I’m going to get you out. Will you take care of Ryan for me?”
“You have to—”
“Please, Kelly. Will you take care of Ryan?”
She could feel his fear. “Yes.”
“I’ve owed you a long time for Nick. Trust me and do what I say. There’s a life jacket down here. Get it on.”
She slipped it on because she didn’t know what else to say, to do.
Charles tightened the straps for her. “Tell Ryan I still remember how to be a reformed thief.” He was trying to lighten the moment, but his humor was hollow. “Just don’t freeze up, Kelly. There will only be one chance.”
Kelly could still hear the sound of the gunshot when she had hit the water. Charles. She didn’t dare wonder. She sobbed now at the terror of what had happened, at the terror of what the last two hours had been like. The men were in a speedboat that had come alongside Charles’s boat looking for her, trying to find her. Twice she had seen the boat in the distance and prayed the sun would set and give her cover.
The sun was finally dropping below the horizon. Finally.
The long night ahead, alone, out here in the cold ocean—she was so grateful she had the life jacket to keep her head above water. She didn’t have enough energy to tread water that long. Lord, You got me this far. I need You to get me through the next long hours.
God is my refuge . . . when I’m in trouble. Kelly decided that prayer would be the best one for the long night ahead. God was her refuge. There was no doubt now about that treasured fact. At least one thing had turned out right. She hoped that this was the last time she was tossed into the sea to find that out. On top of the nausea from the headache, the salt water she was swallowing only made her sicker.
Joe, I need you. Where are you?
She loved him. She wanted a chance to tell him that again. If this hadn’t convinced him that danger went equally both directions, she didn’t know what would. Joe could be stubborn, but what had he said? She was tenacious? It was a good word. She wasn’t going to lose Joe. She only had a very long night to get through first . . . The sea was doing its best to break her will. The water didn’t bother to slap at her as it had the last time; instead it did something more dangerous as it rocked her and eased her toward the cold sleep that would kill her.
Thirty-Four
* * *
Dawn was coloring the sky. Joe set the boat on a westerly course, following the morning tides. Boomer was nearby. Cougar and others from Golf Platoon were out in their own crafts. Most had been out on the water throughout the night, none willing to wait for morning. Fog rose from the water, keeping down the speed they could travel. Joe couldn’t accept the fact Kelly was gone.
Lord, I love her. Please, I need a miracle.
Life without Kelly would be unbearable. If the worst happened, he almost wished God would let her come back as a ghost to haunt him. It would save him the decades of loneliness that would be the alternative.
He changed hands on the outboard motor and blew on his cold fingers. Kelly being cold he could deal with; her being shot was another matter. He knew the slim odds that she was still alive. Charles had been shot. For Kelly to have gotten out of that situation alive—
He wished Charles were still alive so he could bury his fist in the
guy’s face.
Condemning Charles for the death of Nick, of Iris, and the danger to Kelly . . . The anger burned hot inside. But Ryan made it impossible to feel only that. Joe had told the teen what had happened rather than have him learn the truth from a stranger. The incredible anger at what Charles had done slammed starkly into the pain Ryan was experiencing. Charles had at least one redeeming trait: He had loved his son. It would have been much easier to deal with this situation if Joe had only known the bad.
If he could reach out and pull the sun up into the sky he would do it. It had been an intolerably long night. So much time had gone by since the explosion. Charles had paid the ultimate price for what he had done, but at least he had been part of what was going on. Kelly had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The fact Charles had been using her galled him. Maybe if she came out of this alive, forgiveness toward Charles would be easier to find—
He nearly hit her.
From the fog rising on the water’s surface there was a splash of orange suddenly in front of him and Joe slammed the boat to starboard as he killed the engine and swiveled his body around in the chair, whatever he had seen disappearing into the fog behind him.
The boat now dead in the water, he grabbed the satchel beside him and went over the side.
Where was she? He had lost her in the fog, and he found her again as much by accident as sight. His hand clenched the life jacket.
Kelly.
Thank You, God!
She didn’t stir. He lifted her head carefully from the life jacket and a little more out of the water, worried about the pain etched in her face even as she rested unconscious. Was she bleeding? That was his immediate concern.
Her fingers were locked into the life jacket straps so tightly he couldn’t get them to open. She was badly dehydrated, very cold. He was relieved to find there was no other obvious sign of injury. “Hold on, Kelly.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead, feeling the chill of her skin, his arm tightening around her. “I love you. Wake up so I can tell you that.”
True Devotion Page 27