The Escape

by David Baldacci

  “Lethal injection? Bring it on. You murdered Anton. What do I care about living one second longer?”

  “I didn’t murder him. I shot him before he murdered others.”

  “Your version of the truth. I’ll stick with mine. So your leverage is less than zero, Puller. Kill me. Get it over with. And your brother can go back to rotting in jail. Even with all that’s happened now, there is no evidence to overturn his conviction. I’ll think about that when they put the needle in my arm. And I’m sure it will bring a smile to my lips as I say goodbye to this miserable world.”

  “Even though you set him up, framed him? He’s innocent. You know that.”

  She looked bored now. “How many surveillance devices in here, I wonder? Three? Ten?” She said in a raised voice, “For the record, Robert Puller is guilty as sin. He stole classified information. He met with a known Iranian spy. He was working with me to bring down the U.S. government. He is scum. I will testify to this in exchange for a deal that will allow me to live peacefully and quietly in a minimum-security prison with the possibility of parole in five years.”

  She turned back to Puller and smiled tauntingly. “One always has to have a backup plan.” She paused, studying him. “You ever wonder where that text came from telling you not to trust Knox?”

  Now Puller remained silent, waiting.

  “I sent it.”

  “Why, if you believed she was working with you?”

  “Because I didn’t really believe it. I don’t trust anyone. No one. Except Anton. And I’m very much into divide and conquer. If you two killed each other off, so much the better.”

  “What was it like to plan your husband’s murder?”

  She said derisively, “I was in Russia thousands of miles away.”

  “Yeah, Russia, your adopted country. But I wonder where your boyfriend Anton was?”

  “Well, we’ll never know, since you murdered him.”

  “Your son knew you did it. He told me so. He called me after your arrest. Thanked me for bringing him closure.”

  “Poor Danny was always a little slow on the uptake. And he spent too much time in fantasyland. And he was way too much of a daddy’s boy. He has no balls of his own.”

  “He’s an FBI attorney with a very impressive conviction record.”

  “Do you think I really care?”

  “My point is you didn’t fool him.”

  “And my answer would be exactly the same. I don’t give a crap.”

  “Did you orchestrate my kidnapping in Kansas?”

  She nodded. “Whether you told us what you knew or said you would stand down, we would have killed you. We were just toying with you. It’s the style that counts. Anton and I have a lot of that. Other people would have just shot you.”

  “Well, your ‘style’ gave my brother the opportunity to save my life.”

  She shifted in her seat and used her chin to rub at a spot near her injured shoulder. “I would like to know how you pulled it off,” she said. “How did you figure we were going to hit the safe house?”

  “Dan told me you were tight with your daughter. So I went to see Audrey. I knew she’d call you after I phoned to set up the appointment. You would have tailed me back to the safe house.”

  “But I blew it up. Incendiary rounds.”

  “But we weren’t in the house.”

  “I saw you go inside. And you didn’t come back out. Anton was watching the back. He would have seen you.”

  “That safe house has been in the system a long time and consequently has been retrofitted. There’s an escape hatch in the back bedroom that leads to a tunnel that in turn leads to a house four doors down. All the houses around there are empty, so it was easy to do. You hit the right house, but at the wrong time, because there was no one in it. The exterior security took the same path. We didn’t want to have anyone in harm’s way when you opened fire with your Olympian sniper skills.”

  “And your shooting me?”

  “I figured that knoll would provide the best firing line for you. So I waited about a hundred yards away facing that point. When I saw your muzzle flash I waited for you to finish firing and pulled the trigger.”

  “You’re not as good a shot as you think. At a hundred yards I would have nailed my target ten times out of ten.” She indicated her casted arm and shoulder. “You only managed to wound me.”

  “I’ve killed people from farther away than your shot that night, Susan. And they were shooting back at me. But I didn’t kill you because I didn’t want to kill you. I just wanted to injure you. And I did, incapacitating you at the same time.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t believe that.”

  “I’m a soldier. I do this for a living.”

  She barked, “Why the hell would you want to keep me alive? You had no problem killing poor Anton.”

  “I didn’t need poor Anton alive. But I needed you alive.”

  “Why?”

  He glanced down at the piece of paper still resting between them. “Because I need you to sign this.” He slipped a pen from his pocket and held it up. “I even took care to shoot you in your left arm, so you could sign it with your other hand. You’re a righty.”

  “I have no incentive to sign anything. Certainly nothing that would help Robert Puller. He can rot in prison.”

  There was a TV bolted to one corner of the ceiling. Puller picked up a remote from the table and turned on the TV.

  As the picture came on, Reynolds sat up straight.

  “What the hell is this?”

  Puller turned to look at the screen where Audrey Reynolds was sitting in a jail cell, dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, sobbing and looking like she couldn’t believe what had happened.

  “She’s been arrested and is awaiting arraignment,” said Puller.

  “Why?” snapped a stunned Reynolds. “What possible reason could—”

  “As a coconspirator in a terrorist plot against the United States,” interrupted Puller.

  “She had nothing to do with any of this!”

  He looked at her disdainfully. “Come on, Susan. You really expect us to believe that the daughter you were so tight with knew nothing? Even a newbie prosecutor could get a conviction on that. She phoned you right after I called her to set up a face-to-face.”

  “She called me, yes, but she didn’t—”

  Puller slammed his fist down on the table so hard that a part of the wood cracked. “Shut the hell up! And listen!”

  Reynolds froze.

  Puller leaned forward. “Here is how it’s going to play out, Susan. Unless you sign this confession and provide whatever corroborating testimony is required to see that my brother is fully exonerated, you will be tried, convicted, and put to death.” He pointed behind him at the screen. “At the same time your daughter will be tried, convicted, and sent to prison for the rest of her life without the possibility of parole. Not because of anything she did. Because of you. You are right on the edge of destroying your daughter’s life, Susan.”

  “She knew nothing about any of this! I will testify to that.”

  “Do you think the higher-ups care about that?” he said. “And she screwed up big-time.”

  “You mean the phone call? That was nothing.”

  “We listened to the calls. Right, calls. Because she spoke to you again after I left the shop. After I told her you were suspected of being a spy. She not only enabled you to follow me right to the safe house, but it was clear on the phone call that she knew you were involved in something criminal. And your financing her dream business? A jury would easily believe that it was in payment for her helping you to spy on this country. And maybe even to launder funds. Terrorist funds. Because the Pentagon plan was not an act of war, it was an act of terrorism. And that makes everyone associated with it, American citizen or not, a terrorist. And that means many relevant legal rights go right out the window.”

  Reynolds’s jaw tightened and she looked like she might be sick.

  Puller con
tinued, “She might not have known exactly what you and Bok were doing, but that’s clearly enough to get her as an accessory to a terrorist act. Her life is over, Susan. Unless you do the right thing by your little girl.”

  “I…I can’t…”

  Puller slapped the table once more with the palm of his hand. “Let me just give it to you straight, Reynolds. I came in here principally to get my brother exonerated. But I also came in here to give you one last shot at saving Audrey. I believe she’s innocent. And innocent people shouldn’t go to prison. Like my brother! But this is a national security case and they are out for blood. You almost wrecked the military leadership of this country! So they are going after anyone within spitting distance of this thing. And that includes your daughter. The government lawyers are right outside that door waiting for your answer. If you don’t sign this confession right now this deal goes away forever. And your little girl gets to spend the next sixty years of her life in a max federal prison. And it will be your fault and only yours. And you can take that thought to the death chamber with you.”

  Puller placed the pen on top of the confession and sat back watching her.

  Reynolds stared at him for a moment longer before her gaze went back to her daughter on the screen.

  “So you’re going to coerce me, threaten me into a confession?” she said dully.

  “No, I’m encouraging you as best I can to tell the truth. The facts that you will provide to corroborate the statements in the confession will leave no doubt as to your guilt. And if your testimony leads to other spies or traitors being caught, so much the better.”

  “And you think the Russians won’t try to kill me if I do cooperate?” she shot back.

  “Solitary confinement in a federal prison, Susan. We’re the best friends you have right now. That’s the only place they won’t be able to get to you.”

  Slowly, very slowly, her right hand reached out and took up the pen. After she signed the document she looked at him. “You really are a heartless prick.”

  “That must be why we get along so well,” he said back. “Because so are you.”

  He scooped up the paper and pen, rose, and walked out the door without once looking back.

  CHAPTER

  75

  PULLER ADJUSTED HIS tie and then slipped on his jacket. He buttoned it up, made sure every one of his decorations was in the proper place, and then picked up his cover and put it under his arm.

  His brother was waiting for him in the kitchen, also in his dress uniform, his cap riding under his arm too. His other arm was still in a sling from the injury.

  “You ready, Colonel Puller?”

  “I’m still technically a major, Junior. Lieutenant colonel status hasn’t come yet.”

  “Matter of time. Bet you’re one of the youngest one-stars in Air Force history.”

  Robert plucked an errant thread off his brother’s jacket. “We’ll see. I’ve got two years’ worth of catching up to do.”

  “You ready to head out?” asked Puller.

  “Let’s take a minute,” said his brother.

  Puller was surprised by this. “Not having second thoughts, are you?”

  Robert sat down. “No, it’s not that.”

  “What then?”

  “Knox told me you talked to her about Mom.”

  Puller sat down, his features turning angry. “I told her that in confidence.”

  “Blame me, Junior. After that exchange I heard between you before she staged killing me, I asked her about what had happened between you two.”

  “Nothing happened,” snapped Puller.

  “But I take it something could have?”

  Puller didn’t answer right away. “Yes, it could have. But how does that tie into Mom?”

  “Knox told me the most memorable moment from that night was your opening up about our mother. Knox had never seen that side of you. She told me it astonished her how sensitive, how loving you sounded when talking about Mom.”

  Puller said nothing to this. He just stared down at the floor.

  Robert said, “I miss her too, Junior. Think about her every day. Wondering if she’s still alive. And—”

  Puller broke in, speaking forcefully. “And whether it was her choice to leave us?”

  “What do you think?” asked Robert.

  “I think,” began Puller, “that it’s one mystery I’ll never solve.”

  Robert put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Well, now you have me back to talk about it with. To talk about a lot of things. And you don’t have to fly to Leavenworth to do it.”

  “A dream come true, Bobby. To have my big brother back.”

  Robert rose. “I was thinking the very same thing, little brother. Now let’s go do this.”

  They drove north. Puller parked in the lot and the two brothers walked into the facility together, removing their caps as they did so. They walked down the hall. As they drew closer to their destination Robert slowed.

  “Do you really think this is a good idea?” he said.

  “Yes. And you did too, apparently, until about two seconds ago.”

  “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

  “Join the crowd. I’m nervous every time I come here. I’d rather take on a convoy of damn Taliban.”

  Puller nudged his brother’s elbow and they kept walking. Puller nodded at a nurse he knew.

  She said, “He’s up in his chair.”

  “Does he know we’re coming?”

  “I told him. Whether it registered or not, I don’t know.”

  She looked up at Robert. “I’m glad you were able to come, sir.”

  “Finally able to come,” said Robert.

  Both brothers drew deep breaths and Puller opened the door and stepped in. Robert followed.

  The door swung shut behind them and the two stood side by side in their pristine dress uniforms.

  Across the room, in his chair, sat their father.

  John Puller Sr. was dressed differently today. Usually his outfit consisted of a T-shirt and blue hospital scrub pants with slippers on his feet. His white hair was typically in disarray, his face unshaven.

  This morning he had been shaved, his hair was combed, and he was dressed in pants and a collared shirt. Loafers were on his feet.

  Robert looked at Puller, who was staring in amazement at his father.

  “Something different today?” whispered Robert.

  “Definitely,” replied Puller.

  “General,” said Puller. “We’re here reporting in, sir.” He pushed Robert ahead of him. “I brought along a new man today. He’ll be reporting in to you regularly now.”

  Puller Sr. turned to face them, though he didn’t get out of his chair. His gaze moved up and down both men’s uniforms before coming to rest on Robert’s face.

  “Name?” said Puller Sr.

  Robert glanced at his brother and received an encouraging nod before saying, “Major Robert W. Puller, USAF.”

  Puller Sr. stared hard at him for a few moments before looking at his other son.

  In that gaze, for the first time in a long time, Puller saw recognition. Not just seeing something. Recognition. He stepped forward and said softly, “Dad?”

  Robert glanced sharply at Puller. His brother had filled him in on the subterfuge he normally employed with his father. Playing the role of XO to his father’s three stars and head of a corps.

  Puller took another hesitant step toward his father.

  “Dad?”

  Puller Sr. slowly rose from his chair. His legs trembled a bit and his knees creaked, but he finally righted himself and stood tall and firm. His gaze left his younger son and went back to his older boy.

  He took a few halting steps toward Robert.

  The old man’s eyebrows were bunched together, the eyes sharp and penetrating. But at the edges Puller saw something he never had before,