Operation Sheba

by Evans, Misty

  Securing her rifle, she started down the hillside. The horizon was just beginning to brighten. The clouds had cleared. Tim Buchanan met her at the bottom of the hill. “What the hell was that?” he said, hands on his hips.

  Elaina didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. “I don’t know, sir.” She shrugged. “But it worked.”

  “Goddamn spooks,” Tim muttered as he started jogging toward the house.

  Elaina fell in beside him and laughed under her breath.

  Julia hit the doorway into the study, taking in the scene in the blink of eye. Dead men lay sprawled on the floor. King, Allen and Kinnick lined the couch, talking loudly in the aftermath of the siege.

  In the middle of the room on the floor lay a bruised and bloodied Michael Stone.

  Jumping over one of the dead terrorists, Julia flew to his side, falling on her knees next to Worley. He and Harris were cutting the unconscious man loose from the toppled chair. The left side of Stone’s face sported an irregular purple and black bruise that was splattered with drops of his own blood.

  Raissi’s bullet had torn through his left shoulder, missing his heart and a sheet of Semtex by a mere inch. Pongo shoved his head under Julia’s arm to sniff at the explosive and his master, but Julia stopped him and pushed him back. At her command, he dropped to the floor and whined.

  Julia gently cradled Michael’s face in her hands. “Come on, Michael. Stay with me.”

  Worley grabbed her right hand and pressed it into the gaping wound in Michael’s shoulder, telling her to put pressure on it as he removed the blasting cap from the sheet of explosive and pulled the tape strapping it to Michael’s chest off. Julia rested her other hand on top of her right and continued to whisper encouragement to Michael as she pressed down, trying to stop the flow of warm blood. Michael’s life was draining out between her fingers.

  Harris started an IV. A minute later, EMTs, who had been standing by during the counterassault, were ushered in, snaking a gurney through the crowded room. Someone pulled Julia out of the way and she watched as one medical worker placed an oxygen mask on Michael and began recording his vitals while the other talked to the hospital that would be receiving their patient.

  Worley spoke into his headset microphone. “L.T., we’re going to need that helo to transport Michael Stone. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  Julia couldn’t hear the response but saw Worley nod to the closest EMT. “You’re cleared to use the helo.”

  The man nodded back and the two medics and Harris lifted Michael onto the gurney. He moaned, his eyelashes fluttering. Julia stepped forward and touched his face. “You made it, Michael. You’re going to be okay.”

  His eyes opened and he struggled to keep them that way. He mumbled something incoherent and Julia pulled the oxygen mask away from his mouth. “What?” she asked, leaning close to his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he sighed.

  Julia smiled at him. “Sorry for what? You did great. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “For yelling at you,” he whispered.

  Tears stung her eyes and she brushed his lips with hers. “I deserved it. Now go get yourself fixed up, Stone. We still have some work to do.”

  The medics replaced the oxygen mask and pushed her out of the way. The floor and doorway were cleared to let the gurney pass and Julia followed it until it was out the kitchen door. When she was back in the office, Worley gave her an antiseptic wipe to clean her hands. Lt. Diamond had entered the room and he, Harris and Belcini were releasing the other three men from the couch.

  Brad Kinnick addressed Titus. “Permission to go with Director Stone, sir?”

  Allen pulled duct tape off one of his wrists and rubbed it before slapping Kinnick on the back. “Of course,” the DCI said. “And let me know if anyone, including Susan Richmond, tries to see Michael before I get there. Don’t let anyone in on my orders. I’ll have backup for you within the hour and be there myself as soon as I can.”

  Kinnick gave Julia a nod as he left. She waited for Director Allen to shake hands with the SEALs before approaching him. He smiled at her. “Ms. Torrison,” he said, stepping over Raissi’s body and picking up the iPod from Michael’s desk. “Your calling card, I presume?”

  Julia nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Titus held out a hand to her. “You are definitely Conrad Flynn’s partner. That was the foolhardiest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and I enjoyed every minute of it.”

  Julia saw the questioning glances Worley and the others sent her way, but she nodded and returned his handshake. “Sir,” she said, “we still have a serious breech of CIA security. Did Michael explain everything that’s going on?”

  Elaina Koburn and Tim Buchanan entered the room and Buchanan advanced on her. “You don’t have clearance to be in here, Ms. Quinn.”

  But before he could continue yelling at her, Titus shut him down. “Put a sock in it, Buchanan. She’s one of mine, and I’ll take care of her.”

  Buchanan pulled up short, and Titus turned back to Julia. “I know what’s going on with Susan. Where are Flynn and Smith? I want to talk to all of you.”

  Worley rose from the terrorist body he was examining. “Conrad Flynn and Ryan Smith? We caught them in the woods. They were attempting to follow you”—he pointed at Julia—“into the house. We immobilized them.”

  Lt. Diamond stepped forward. “They handcuffed both men and left them where they found them. I notified Chief Richmond before I came in here of their whereabouts.”

  “Oh no.” Julia exchanged a look with Titus. Daniel King was trying to quietly slip out the door. “Daniel,” Titus barked. King froze in the doorway. “Don’t go too far. We still need to have that talk.”

  Senator King nodded and left with his head down. Then Titus addressed Diamond and Buchanan both. “Those men are in danger from Chief Richmond.” He motioned to Worley. “Show us where you left them.”

  Julia followed on Worley’s heels, Harris running alongside her, Titus behind her and Agents Buchanan and Koburn bringing up the rear. A minute later all six were standing in the woods.

  “They’re gone,” Worley announced.

  “Of course they are,” Titus said, looking around.

  Julia thought she would scream. She clenched her fists and paced a few feet away, her mind trying to think of what to do, but nothing concrete would come. Her brain was as exhausted and overloaded on adrenaline as her body. She felt like running back to the FBI’s operational base, but she knew Susan wasn’t there. She’d taken Con and Smitty, and Julia had no idea where.

  Two more paces and she threw her head back and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Goddammit!” Then she kicked the tree, not once, but three times. “I’m going to kill her. She hurts one hair on their heads, and I will kill her!”

  Pongo jumped and barked at her, pushed his head into her hand.

  Hanging her head, she fell to her knees, grabbing Pongo and hugging him for all he was worth.

  “Yes, siree, you are definitely Conrad Flynn’s partner.” Titus chuckled from behind her.

  Julia turned to find everyone staring at her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Excuse my outburst,” she said, getting back to her feet. “It’s been one very long, crappy night.”

  Everyone smiled at her except for Buchanan. “Where would Chief Richmond take them?”

  Julia shook her head and started to answer, but her cell phone vibrated inside the pocket of the FBI jacket. She pulled it out and heard a familiar voice.

  “Sheba?”

  “Ace? Where are Con and Smitty? Have you seen them?”

  “Yeah, they went by in the backseat of a Caddie a few minutes ago. Connie was in the window yelling something at me when they drove by, but I don’t know what he was sayin’. Me and Cari didn’t know what to do, so we tried to follow the Caddie. We lost sight of it a few minutes ago, but I think it’s headed to the lake I scoped Big Mike out at when he was running that morning. Y’know where I mean?”

>   Julia spoke to Buchanan. “Susan’s kidnapped them and is on her way to the lake northeast of here. It’s about two and half miles if you take the path on the east side of the house. Michael runs that path every morning. If you drive there, it’s twice as far because the road to it frames part of this property and a horse farm adjacent to it.”

  “We can use the other helicopter,” he said to Titus. The smaller aircraft that would have dropped Belcini on the roof was still sitting in a field nearby unused.

  “I can run it before you even get the helicopter in the air,” Worley said. “Just tell me what you want me to do once I get there.”

  Everyone looked at Titus. “Our object is to save Conrad Flynn and Ryan Smith, but I want Susan Richmond alive and well enough to torture.”

  Everyone froze and Titus smiled. “Oh, for crying out loud, get your panties out of a bunch. You don’t really believe I would torture her, do you? But, seriously, I do want her alive. So I can talk to her.”

  Lt. Diamond gave Worley a nod and the SEAL took off. Then he radioed the house and ordered Harris and two more of his SEALs to join Worley.

  “Is that another of my long-lost operators you’re talking to?” Titus asked Julia.

  “No, sir. Just a friend.”

  “I’m the wheelman!” Ace shouted in her ear. “Tell him, I’m the wheelman.”

  “How close are you to the lake?” Julia asked him.

  “We’re bumping closer every minute,” Ace answered. “Wish I had the Jeep. Baby loves this kind of terrain.”

  “Are there any weapons in the van?”

  “This van belong to Conrad Flynn? Sheesh, what a question.”

  Julia sighed. “Right. You and Cari armed?”

  “Cari’s double barreling it right now.”

  Titus motioned for Julia to give him the phone. “Young man,” he said. “Do you know how to create a diversion?”

  Julia could hear Ace’s affirmative reply. Titus motioned for everyone to follow him while he spoke. “Here’s what I want you to do.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Steam was rising off the lake as the sun broke over the hill. The light reflected on the water left from the night’s storm and the leaves of the trees looked fresh and clean. It made a cool picture, Conrad thought, except for the fact he and Smitty were wearing flexi-cuffs and facing the business end of a Magnum .44 with Susan Richmond’s finger on the trigger.

  The partners stood on the lone boat dock, side by side. Conrad’s hands were completely asleep and his arms tingled as his circulation continued to be cut off.

  But even though he and Smitty were about to die, he was glad Julia was safe. She’d pulled off the stupidest, most asinine move he’d ever seen, but she was alive.

  Stone had made it too. With Conrad out of the picture, maybe Julia’d go back to him and live happily ever after.

  Over my dead body.

  “You’re toast, Susan.” He took another step back. Smitty did the same. “Even your backup plan failed. Stone and Allen are alive and they know everything. Why kill us now? You’re only adding murder to your list of crimes.”

  Susan smiled at him. “I’m starting over, Flynn, and you’re the only one who could possibly track me down. It’s time for me to be rid of you once and for all.”

  Behind her, a helicopter rose over the hill and zeroed in on them. Susan looked over her shoulder at it and while she did, Con whispered to Smitty, “You know how to swim with your arms tied behind your back?”

  The look Smitty sent him was total disbelief. “No problem,” Conrad said, even though this was a big fucking problem. “Just jump in the lake when I say.”

  “Looks like our time is up.” Susan tightened her grip on the gun. “Back up another step so when I shoot you, your bodies fall in the water.”

  Conrad took another step, a big step, back. His heel was almost hanging off the edge of the dock. Smitty turned and looked over his shoulder at Con, his face white, his eyes wide. Then he glanced at the water and the mist rising all around them, but he didn’t step back.

  Smitty was scared shitless.

  “Move,” Susan ordered him, but he just stood frozen to the dock.

  Con saw Susan’s cool slip a notch, saw her hand twitch before she pushed the end of the Magnum against Smitty’s forehead. “I said, move back.”

  And then Conrad heard Smitty laugh low in his throat. “No,” he said. “I’m done taking orders from you, Susan. You can’t order me to my death.”

  Holy crap, Smitty had just grown a spine. Conrad cleared his throat and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hallelujah!”

  At that moment, the Forever Flowers van came careening out of the woods, doing, Conrad guessed, about twenty miles an hour more than it should have been. It swerved, righted, swerved again. Ace was driving. Cari was hanging out the passenger window, yelling her head off and shooting at the sky with Conrad’s favorite HK MP5. “Now who has the big gun?” she screamed at him before ripping off another burst of bullets.

  Susan jerked at the distraction and from behind her Cadillac, a SEAL, dressed in camo, rose up, his weapon pointed at her. “Stop!” he called. “Drop your weapon.”

  Two more appeared out of nowhere, one from behind a rock, one from behind a tree. The helicopter swooped over them to land in an open sandy area.

  Susan looked in all directions and lowered her gun.

  But she didn’t drop it.

  The turn she executed was sharp, her gun hand snapping up and pointing at Conrad. As he saw her finger pull the trigger, he pushed off the dock with his toes and dropped like a weight into the water.

  In the helicopter, Julia’s hand was pressed flat on the door. She saw the SEALs emerge from their hiding places. She saw Susan give up.

  And then she saw her turn. Saw Susan raise her gun and heard the gun go off over the sound of the helicopter blades.

  Her hand slammed against the door, and she screamed Conrad’s name as his body dropped off the dock like a dead man.

  Before Buchanan could set the helicopter firmly on the ground, Julia shot out of it, running toward the dock for all she was worth. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Worley jumped into the lake after Conrad as Susan was disarmed by Harris. He was handcuffing her as Julia approached. Without hesitating, Julia pulled out her gun and stiff-armed Susan in the head with it as she ran by. Susan went down on the dock with a heavy thud.

  Passing Smitty, Julia stuck the gun back in her waistband and dove in after Con.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Prague , two weeks later… Susan Richmond admired the beads made of Czech glass hanging in an explosion of iridescent red, electric blue and pale green around her wrist. She had purchased the trinket on Nerudova Street, a winding walkway of designer shops and cafés in Mala Strana, for less than twenty American dollars. It was a nice addition to her collection of jewelry souvenirs from the European cities she had visited so far.

  Making her way past Prague Castle, she continued to survey and enjoy the architecturally stunning capital of the Czech Republic. Stare Mesto, the Old Town, and Mala Strana, the Lesser Town, were equally rich in art, music and culture. A perfect blending of medieval and modern. A mecca for someone with her tastes.

  Out of habit, she stopped several times along the way to check if anyone was following her. It was easy after a few weeks of watching and not seeing a tail to grow careless. She was determined not to. Moving around from one European capital to another kept her alert while providing a multitude of places to blend in amongst the thousands of residents and tourists bustling around. Her trail was growing cold to the CIA and that lessened her anxiety, but she would continue to move around for another year, maybe two, before she settled in one place for any length of time.

  That was all right with her. At first she had been furious both her plans had failed so miserably. After all the planning and strategizing, to have it end with her on the run was ridiculous. But of course she had planned for that outcome, ju
st in case, and it had paid off. The bribe for the convenient mix-up during her booking. The help of a certain CIA administrator she’d been sleeping with for years to get her out of the country. The promise to a certain dictator that she could supply him and his friends with unending information about the United States’ plans for them. All of it had paid off. She had plenty of money to support her travels and plenty of smarts to keep herself alive.

  St. Vitus Cathedral, the final resting place of St. Wenceslas, rose up before her and she stopped. The church’s immense stature alone was mesmerizing, its doors beckoning her inside.

  The smell of Catholicism, burning candles, wood and peace, filled her nostrils as she entered. It had been years since she’d been in any church, but in this place, she fell naturally into the movements and rituals all Catholics learn. She automatically genuflected and made the sign of the cross before entering a pew to sit down.

  She allowed herself to daydream for awhile in the safety and sanctity of the cathedral, enjoying the quiet sounds of priest robes and nun skirts and murmured prayers. Tourists came and went. Others—mothers, fathers, friends—came and bowed their heads, lit candles, prayed in pews. Susan closed her eyes and waited for her lover.

  She heard the man before she saw him. Heard the brush of his coat on the end of the pew. With her eyes still closed, she smiled. Finally, Jurgen had come. He had been promising to catch up with her as soon as he was sure no one was following him. Susan knew today was the day they would be together again.

  Opening her eyes, she took in the brown hair, perfectly trimmed over the collar of the man’s black trench coat and felt a spurt of uncertainty. It wasn’t Jurgen, but the man was familiar. She fingered the bracelet. Something was wrong. Where was Jurgen?

  A second man moved into the pew directly behind her, the lightest touch of his fingers grazing her neck. Cold fear ran down her spine. She glanced around. The church was suddenly too empty.