The Jefferson Key cm-7

by Steve Berry

  He punched again, harder.

  Malone pivoted onto his side and sprang to his feet.

  So did he.

  They circled each other, hands empty, arms ready.

  “Just you and me,” he said.

  CASSIOPEIA WAITED IN THE KITCHEN FOR EDWIN DAVIS. THE Secret Service agent had volunteered to get him. What Shirley Kaiser had done may well have jeopardized everything. What was she thinking? The man she was dealing with was every bit a pirate, his only goal to survive, and killing a scorned woman would not be a problem.

  Davis entered, concern on his face. He, too, apparently realized the implications. “That airport in Greenville is the closet one to Bath. She’s nuts to have done this.”

  “I’m going,” she told him.

  “I don’t know if I can allow that.”

  “So it’s okay to drag me into that mess at the White House, but not okay for me to do any more?”

  “That was private. This isn’t. You’re not on the payroll.”

  “Exactly why I’m the one to go. And by the way, me not being on the payroll wasn’t a problem the last time Daniels was in a mess.” He seemed to get her message, so she added, “Give me a few hours, and if you don’t hear from me, then send in the Secret Service.”

  He considered for a moment then nodded. “You’re right. It’s the best move.”

  “What about Cotton? That call you took outside was about him, wasn’t it?”

  “The agents reported in. They’re a few miles away, on shore, but they have telescopic night-vision equipment. One boat left the north shore a short while ago. Lone occupant, heading north, toward shore, away from their location. Lots of gunfire has been occurring, though it’s subsided some now.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I have to give Cotton the time he asked for to play things out.”

  SIXTY-SIX

  MALONE TACKLED WYATT WHO, WITH GREAT AGILITY, REVERSED the situation and pounded the back of Malone’s head into stone.

  Everything winked in and out.

  Nausea swelled in his throat.

  Wyatt slipped off him and he caught the blurred image of a gun in his opponent’s right hand.

  He struggled to one knee.

  His head throbbed with every beat of his heart. He rubbed his scalp and tried to stand. “You do realize there are people high on the food chain who know you and I are here.”

  Wyatt tossed the weapon aside. “Let’s finish this.”

  “Is there an actual purpose here?” The question gave his stomach the few moments it needed to calm. “And what did you want, those New York cops to kill me? Or a Secret Service agent?”

  “Something like that.”

  His eyes surveyed the darkness, but he could not determine much beyond the stacks of collapsed walls and old timbers. The bird stench remained, which didn’t help his queasiness.

  “I have a friend in trouble,” he said to Wyatt. “Stephanie Nelle. The guy you just let walk out of here works for the people who probably have her captive.”

  “That’s not my problem.”

  Anger swelled inside him. He sprang forward, wrapping his arms around Wyatt’s body and allowing momentum to propel them both onto the floor.

  But instead of finding hard stone, a crack signaled that they’d landed on wood, the timbers offering little resistance, their combined weight sending them crashing downward.

  And they kept falling.

  HALE WAS BUYING TIME, TRYING TO FIND A WAY INTO SHIRLEY Kaiser’s psyche. He hoped compassion might be the way.

  “My family,” he said, “has served this nation since before it was formed. Yet now the government wants to prosecute me and my associates as criminals.”

  “Why?”

  The gun continued to be pointed at his crotch, but he told himself to show no fear.

  “My family were first pirates, then privateers. We have lived on this land for nearly three hundred years. We became for the fledgling colonial forces its navy, destroying British shipping during the American Revolution. Without us, there would have been no United States. We’ve performed similar services for many administrations since that time. We are patriots, Shirley. Serving our country.”

  “What does that have to do with me? Tell me why you used me to try to kill Danny Daniels.”

  “Not me,” he made clear. “That was my associates, unbeknownst to me. I was furious when I learned what they did.”

  “So they tapped my phones?”

  Careful. This woman was no dummy. “No. I did that. I was looking for anything I could learn that might help our situation. I knew of your relationship with the First Lady before I made contact with you.”

  “So give me a good reason why I shouldn’t make you a soprano.”

  “You’d miss me as a baritone.”

  “More of that charm. You don’t quit, I’ll give you that.”

  He shifted in the bed.

  Her grip on the gun stiffened.

  “Calm down,” he said. “Just lightening the load on some old muscles.”

  “What did you do with what you heard on the phone?”

  “Most of it? Nothing. But when I heard of the New York trip, I did inform my associates. With the White House not announcing the trip, we thought an opportunity might have opened. We discussed the matter, but decided not to act. Unfortunately, they changed their minds and did not bother to inform me.”

  “Have you always been such a good liar?”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You used me, Quentin.” Her voice carried no anger, no contempt.

  “So you come here, lure me to bed, simply to shoot me?”

  “I decided to use you a little.”

  “Shirley, my wife and I have been apart a long time. You know that. You and I have enjoyed quite the healthy relationship. As we are speaking, right now, men are at your house removing the listening device. That’s over. Can’t we let it be? We can enjoy an even healthier relationship now-”

  “That we know what a liar and cheat you truly are.”

  “Shirley,” he said in gentle voice. “You are not naive. The world is a difficult place, and we all have to do what we can to survive. Suffice it to say that my situation borders on desperate, so I chose the means I thought might achieve results. I did lie to you. At first. But once we came to know each other that changed. You know that I could not fake everything-if only from what just happened. You are an exciting, vibrant woman.”

  The gun stayed aimed. “You destroyed my relationship with the First Lady.”

  “She needs professional help. You know that. Or better yet, allow Mr. Davis to be her confidant. She seems to like him.”

  “It’s not a dirty thing.”

  “I’m sure it is not. But it is still a thing. One they would not want public.”

  “What were you going to do? Blackmail them?”

  “The thought had occurred to me. Luckily, better solutions to the problem may have come along. So their secret is safe.”

  “How comforting.”

  “Why not lower that gun and you and I consummate our new relationship. One built on mutual trust and respect.”

  He liked her eyes, so blue they could at times seem purple. Her angular features barely reflected her age. She possessed the lissome grace of a dancer-curvy, slender-waisted, full-bosomed. And she always wore a peculiar scent of perfume with a citrus aroma that lingered long after they parted.

  “I don’t think any relationship between us is possible,” she finally said.

  And she pulled the trigger.

  KNOX DITCHED THE BOAT ON SHORE AND HUSTLED BACK TO THE vehicle he’d left parked near a small strip of closed shops. He was glad to be away from Paw Island.

  Him dying there was not part of any equation.

  No one was around. He needed to leave Canada, and fast. The stolen boat would be discovered tomorrow by whoever. His two associates would also be found inside Fort Dominion. One was clearly dea
d, the other most likely. None of them carried identification, though they both lived toward Nags Head, on the Atlantic shore. He’d long ago encouraged many of the crew to move out from Bath into the surrounding communities, the farther away the better, though close enough to be on site within two hours. Many were single, like these two, with few attachments. Once the bodies were identified and it was determined that they worked at the estate, law enforcement would appear. There’d be inquiries. But then that was why the Commonwealth employed a bevy of lawyers. It should not be a problem.

  Andrea Carbonell, on the other hand.

  She was a problem.

  He was tired of being scared. Tired of watching his back. Tired of worrying. A good quartermaster would never have placed himself in such jeopardy.

  Yet he had.

  A year ago he might have stayed at Fort Dominion and fought it out with Jonathan Wyatt. But he’d already chosen another course, one that paid no heed to either duty or heritage. He just wanted to get out and not be killed by either the government or the Commonwealth.

  He was a survivor.

  And Jonathan Wyatt was not his enemy. Nor was Quentin Hale, really, or the other three captains.

  They knew nothing.

  Only Andrea Carbonell knew it all.

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  BATH, NORTH CAROLINA

  HALE HEARD THE TRIGGER CLICK BUT NO RETORT.

  Kaiser smiled. “The next one will be live.”

  He did not doubt her prediction.

  “Do you have any idea the situation you’ve placed me in,” she said to him. “Pauline Daniels will probably never speak to me again.”

  “Are they aware of my listening in on your calls?”

  “They found your little device in my backyard.”

  Panic surged through him as he thought about the two men sent to retrieve the equipment. Were agents waiting for them?

  “Shirley, you must listen to me. There is more at stake here than your pride. The entire weight of the U.S. government has been brought to bear on me and my associates. I need allies, not more enemies. It’s long past time for me to divorce my wife. Having you here full time would be most pleasant.” He paused. “For us both, I hope.”

  He had to contact Knox and deal with the situation in Virginia. That had now become even more critical than what was happening in Nova Scotia.

  “You honestly think that would sway me?” she said. “A promise of marriage? I don’t need a husband, Quentin.”

  “What do you need?”

  “How about an answer to a question. Are you holding a woman prisoner here named Stephanie Nelle?”

  He considered lying, but again decided against it. “She is part of that enemy. Sent here to destroy us. I captured her in self-defense.”

  “I’m not asking you to justify it, Quentin. I simply want to know if she’s here.”

  Alarm bells rang in his brain.

  How would she know to ask that question?

  Only one way. Someone told her. Someone in the know. If she wasn’t naked he’d be worried she was wired. Her clothing and overnight bag were not a concern either since they were in the next room, a closed door between here and there.

  “Shirley, you must understand that these are extraordinary times. I did what I had to do. You would have done the same. In fact, is that not what you are doing now? Defending yourself, however you can.”

  CASSIOPEIA WANTED TO ARGUE WITH EDWIN DAVIS BUT KNEW that she had to trust both his and Cotton’s instincts.

  But there was still a problem.

  “We need to contact Kaiser,” she said to Davis.

  “I’m not sure that’s possible. What are we going to do? Call her?”

  “Not us. But there’s someone who could make the call.”

  She saw that he understood.

  Davis found his phone and dialed.

  HALE WAITED FOR SHIRLEY TO ANSWER HIM. SHE SEEMED TO BE

  considering his inquiry.

  “You used me,” she finally said.

  A fresh burst of wind and rain pounded the house.

  Which startled her.

  He used the moment to slam his fist into her face.

  CASSIOPEIA LISTENED AS DAVIS INFORMED PAULINE DANIELS what Shirley Kaiser had done.

  “I can’t believe she went there,” the First Lady said.

  They’d retreated into the dining room to make the call, clearing the house of agents.

  “She feels horrible about this,” the First Lady said. “She was so angry at being used. Still, she should have never gone there.”

  But there was something even more serious to consider. The shooting that had just happened would make the local news. Once Hale learned of the fate of his two men he would know Kaiser had been compromised. Which meant she just became a problem.

  “Pauline,” Davis said. “Call her. Now. See if she answers.”

  “Hold on.”

  “There’s no way to keep what happened here quiet,” Cassiopeia whispered to Davis.

  “I know. The clock’s ticking for Shirley Kaiser.”

  “Edwin,” Pauline said through the speaker. “No answer. It went to her voice mail. I didn’t think you’d want me to leave a message.”

  “We have to go,” Davis said to the phone.

  Cassiopeia caught the frustration in his voice.

  “Edwin, I didn’t-”

  Davis ended the call.

  “That was rude,” she said.

  “She wouldn’t have liked what I would have said next. At some point everyone is going to have stop making stupid mistakes.” He paused. “Myself included.”

  “That woman’s life is in jeopardy,” she said. “Get me down there fast.”

  And he didn’t argue.

  HALE STOOD FROM THE BED.

  Kaiser lay unconscious from the blow to her face.

  His hand hurt. Had he broken her cheekbone? He retrieved the gun and checked. Indeed, the next round would have caused much damage.

  His mind reeled.

  Had his men been caught at Kaiser’s residence? He had to know. Knox remained inaccessible, most likely still on Paw Island.

  He found his robe and slipped it on.

  He glanced at the bedside clock. 9:35 PM. He reached for the phone and punched the house intercom. His secretary answered after the second buzz in his ear.

  “Have two men come to my bedroom immediately. I have a new guest for our prison.”

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  NOVA SCOTIA

  10:20 PM

  MALONE OPENED HIS EYES. HIS BODY ACHED. PAIN RADIATED throughout his legs. He was lying on his back, his gaze shooting upward back through the gaping hole of rotting wood that he and Wyatt had plunged through.

  He tested his limbs and discovered that nothing seemed broken.

  Shafts of moonlight spilled down from above, enough for him to see that they’d fallen about thirty feet. The spongy wood had cushioned the landing. Rock lay beneath him.

  Along with chilly water.

  The walls around him glistened a silvery sheen in the faint light, signaling that they were damp.

  He heard surf and smelled the birds again.

  Where was Wyatt?

  He pushed himself up. A light switched on. Bright, singular, a few feet away. He shielded his eyes with an arm.

  The light moved away from his face.

  In the ambient glow he saw Wyatt holding the flashlight.

  KNOX ARRIVED AT THE PRIVATE AIRSTRIP WHERE HE’D LANDED the Hale Enterprises corporate jet, just south of Halifax, the facility catering to tourists who could afford the luxury of owning their own planes.

  He’d made it out of Mahone Bay and back north without incident.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the display. Hale. Might as well deal with this now.

  He answered, told the captain what had happened, then said, “Carbonell lied to you. Again. There was another person here. Wyatt called him Cotton Malone. He was definitely not on our team. From what Wy
att implied, he was from the government. I can’t be responsible for all of this-”

  “I understand,” Hale said.

  Which surprised him. Hale generally comprehended nothing other than success.

  “Carbonell is a liar,” Hale said, bitterness in his tone. “She’s playing us all. You were right, and I have to now wonder if the information she provided about the cipher was even real.”

  “It still could be true. Wyatt said to tell you that once he had those two pages, he’ll sell them to you. He specifically wanted that message brought back.”

  “So we have to hope that this renegade, whom Carbonell obviously dislikes and distrusts, is right and will cooperate.”

  “We’ve also got two dead crewmen here,” he made clear.

  “And we have an even worse problem.”

  He listened as Hale told him about Shirley Kaiser and what may have gone wrong at her residence.

  He decided to take a chance and said, “Captain Hale, Carbonell is using us. She’s complicating an already complicated problem. She said only she and Wyatt knew about this location, yet this Cotton Malone was there. Did she send him, too? If not, then who the hell else knows about this? How much more risk are we going to take? How much do we gamble?”

  Silence on the other end of the phone signaled that Hale was thinking about that question.

  “I agree,” Hale finally said. “She needs to pay.”

  Excellent. Her death would right all his mistakes. He’d be right back where he started.

  “First,” Hale said. “Find out if we have a problem in Virginia. I need to know. Then, you have my permission to deal with NIA as you see fit.”

  Finally.

  Freedom to act.

  He ended the call and trotted toward the plane. He’d check the weather and receive clearance for takeoff once on board. No tower existed here, Halifax controlled ingress and egress. He popped the hatch on the jet and climbed into its spacious cabin.

  “Leave the light off,” a female voice said.