by Sharon Sala
David’s fingers curled around the small, wooden staff as the kid disappeared. He stared at the colors so long that they began to run together in his mind. When he finally looked up, the glitter in his eyes was no longer moisture and the cut of his jaw was set and firm.
Earned it? He hadn’t earned anything but a heartache and a tombstone in Arlington Cemetery. To become the man he was now, he’d had to die, presumably in the line of duty. But nevertheless, David Wilson was dead. The man he’d become was a solitary man. He had no one he could call friend, no identity that mattered, no ties to a community or church. A faceless man who, some years back had sworn, once again, to give his life for his country.
Now, they called him Jonah and only two people on the face of the earth knew his real identity. As the anonymous director of SPEAR, the most elite counterespionage team ever to be assembled on behalf of the United States of America, Jonah lived life in the shadows, communicating with his operatives when necessary by coded messages, a cassette delivered with an order of pizza, cryptic telegrams, and occasionally, nothing more than a voice on the phone.
SPEAR, first founded by Abraham Lincoln himself during the Civil War, was an acronym for Stealth, Perseverance, Endeavor, Attack and Rescue. It was an organization that existed in the shadows of society, and its existence, the best kept secret in the free world. Headed throughout the years by mysterious men known only as Jonah, the succession of Jonahs who had given their lives to their country were the unrecognized heroes of the past. To the world, they were dead. If they lived long enough to retire, they were given an entirely new identity and left to face their twilight years alone, without benefit of old friends or family.
In a few years, he, too, would retire and another Jonah would step into his shoes. Dying for his country had seemed an odd sort of justice, considering the fact that he’d taken his only brother’s life.
He watched the kid running across the greens, trying to remember if he’d ever been that innocent. He then snorted beneath his breath and shoved the flag into his pocket and started toward his car. There was no place in his life for sentiment or regret.
Those years of retirement were, however, looming closer than he might have liked. Someone was trying to ruin him. Someone wanted him branded a traitor in the very worst way, and despite his access to even the most classified of records, he had been unable to find even a trace of a guilty party. It was, without doubt, the worst thing that had happened to him since Vietnam. It could be anyone, even a disgruntled operative at SPEAR who, by some stroke of fate, had discovered his identity. He was at the point of admitting he needed help, that doing this alone was no longer an option. But there was a problem. He didn’t know who to trust.
Chapter 1
One week later: The Northern California coast.
A pair of seagulls perched on the railing surrounding the large, flagstone terrace of the Condor Mountain Resort and Spa. The view, like the resort, was a magnificent complement to the area overlooking the Pacific. The gulls gave an occasional flap of their wings as they squawked between themselves in bird speak while keeping watch for a dropped bit of someone’s breakfast pastry. Waiters moved among the tables serving coffee and juice, while others carried freshly made foods to the hot-and-cold buffet that was set up near the door. The idle chatter of the guests as they breakfasted was diluted by the soft breeze and the wide open spaces.
It was an idyllic scene, typical for the resort, but there was nothing typical about Easton Kirby, the man who ran it. Tall and powerfully built, he looked more like a professional athlete than a business man. His shoulders strained against the soft knit texture of his white Polo shirt while navy slacks accentuated the length of leg and muscle. His hair was a shade lighter than his tan, and more than one female guest at the hotel had commented about his resemblance to the actor, Kevin Costner, although his nose had more of a Roman shape to it after having twice been broken. He often smiled, but there were shadows within the glitter of his eyes that congeniality could not disguise. He was a man who lived with secrets he would never be able to share and being a former operative for SPEAR was secondary to the fact that he considered himself a murderer.
That it had happened in the line of duty during a high-speed chase had not cleared his conscience. The teenager who’d come out of nowhere on a bicycle and right into the path of East’s oncoming car had been a boy in his prime, having just won a four-year scholarship to a prestigious college, and an honor student throughout his high school years. The headphones he’d been wearing had blocked out the sound of the oncoming cars, and according to the police who’d investigated the accident, he had also bicycled across the highway from the hill above without even trying to stop, obviously trying to beat the traffic. Despite East having been cleared of wrongdoing, the guilt of the act was a hair shirt on his soul. What was done, was done. The kid was dead. End of story.
Afterward, it had been all East could do not to put a gun to his own head. Night after night he kept reliving the sight of the young man’s face spotlighted in his headlights, then the impact of flesh against metal and the scent of burning rubber as he’d tried to stop.
SPEAR had sent him through counseling, then to Condor Mountain to rehabilitate. But it didn’t take. For three months he had lived in the room that they’d given him, refusing to interact with anyone except on a need- to basis, hiking the mountains at night and trying to purge his soul. And then one dark night during one of his nightly forays, he met Jeff. Fourteen years old and a professional runaway from the welfare system, the kid was as hard and wild as they came. East was drawn to the youth in spite of himself, recognizing the boy’s sullen anger as a result of fear rather than meanness. The bond they formed was slow, but it surprised them both. Within a year, Easton Kirby had a whole new role in life. At the age of twenty-five, he became a father to a fourteen-year-old boy, and Jeff was no longer homeless.
A short while later, SPEAR named East manager of the hotel where he’d been sent to recuperate. His file at SPEAR was purged and his days as a counterespionage agent were over. But that hadn’t ended his ties with the organization. Condor Mountain Resort and Spa was a part of the Monarch Hotel Chain—a legitimate corporation owned and operated by SPEAR, and available to agents on the verge of burnout.
Occasionally East saw acquaintances from his days of active duty, but only if they were sent to the Condor Resort for some R and R after the close of a particularly grueling case. Yet the tie that had bound them together before had been severed by time and distance. That part of his life was over. He existed in a come-and-go world with his adopted son as his only family and it was just the way he liked it. Only now and then was he haunted by nightmares, and when he was, he focused instead on the doctor Jeff was studying to become, rather than the horrors of his own past. It should have been enough, but the absence of a woman in his life often left him with a rootless, empty feeling. Yet how could he live his own life to the fullest when he’d taken the life of an innocent man?
The two seagulls which been sitting on the railing took flight as a waiter walked past. A few moments later, Easton Kirby walked out on the patio, causing more than a few female hearts to flutter, as well. He nodded and smiled as he moved through the area, but his focus was on the couple at the far table. They’d checked in last night after he’d gone to bed, but his staff had informed him they were here. He made it a habit to personally greet all honeymooners, and from the way the pair was cuddling through their morning meal, their stay at Condor Mountain was off to a good start. He couldn’t help thinking how blessed they were. Their whole lives were ahead of them, while his was stalled in a guilt-ridden limbo.
Before he reached their table, his cell phone rang. He moved to a guest-free area of the patio to take the call.
“Hello.”
“Kirby.”
It had been years since East had heard that voice, but there was no mistaking it. Instinctively, he moved off the terrace and down the steps toward the beach, putting distance
between himself and the rest of the world.
“Jonah?”
“Yes.”
East reached the first landing, and sat. Something told him he needed to be immobile when he took this call.
“How have you been?” Jonah asked.
East’s belly knotted. “Fine, but I’m assuming you know that, sir, or you wouldn’t be calling.”
A slow intake of breath was all East heard. He waited for Jonah to continue. Chit-chat was not something one did with this man. Finally, Jonah spoke.
“I need to ask a favor of you,”
East’s eyes widened. Favor? Jonah didn’t ask favors, he gave orders.
“Sir?”
“I have a problem—a big problem,” Jonah said. “Someone is trying to destroy me.”
East’s heart skipped a beat and he stood abruptly, as if bracing himself for an unspeakable blow.
“Destroy you?”
“It’s complicated,” Jonah said. “Suffice it to say that things are surfacing within high places that make it look as if I’m a war criminal, as well as a traitor to my country.” There was a moment of hesitation before he continued. “It’s not true.”
East’s eyes narrowed. “Telling me that was unnecessary. That much I know.”
Again, there was a hesitation, then Jonah spoke. “I thank you for that. But the problem still exists and despite my unlimited…uh, shall we say access…to confidential material, I have been unable to trace the source. For all I know, it could be within SPEAR itself.”
East was incredulous. “No sir! I don’t believe that’s possible.”
“I would like to think so, too,” Jonah said. “But at this point, nothing or no one can be ruled out.”
East frowned. “If that’s so, then why call me?”
“Because, technically, you are inactive. It’s been ten years since you’ve been in the field. We have no axes to grind and no issues that could be a possible basis for these actions. I have to trust someone. You’re it.”
East’s gut knotted tighter. “Sir…don’t ask this of me.”
Jonah’s sigh whispered through East’s conscience like a knife.
“It’s been ten years since that incident with the kid,” Jonah said.
East swallowed harshly, then closed his eyes against the glare of sunlight upon the water.
“Tell that to my psyche,” he growled. “Besides, I have a family to consider.”
“Yes…Jeff, isn’t it? Studying to be a doctor?”
“Yes, sir. He’s interning now in L.A.”
“He’s a man, Kirby, not a kid.”
A noise on the beach below caught Kirby’s attention, he opened his eyes and turned. It was a pair of sea lions sunning themselves on an outcropping of rock. For a moment, he lost himself in the spray of surf hammering against the rocks and the seabirds doing a little two-step upon the sand. The urge to take the phone and toss it into the water, disconnecting himself from both Jonah and the world was overwhelming, but it was a futile thought. He’d learned long ago that no matter how hard he’d tried, he had not been able to get away from his past.
“Kirby…are you there?”
East sighed. “Yes, sir. I was just thinking.”
There was a note of eagerness in Jonah’s voice. “And?”
“I have to ask you a question,” East said.
“Ask.”
“Is this an order?”
This time, there was no mistaking the sigh in Jonah’s voice. “I can’t order you to do a personal favor for me.”
“I’m not the man I used to be. I’ve been out of the business too long. I’ve lost the edge needed to survive.”
There was a long moment of silence, then Jonah spoke. “So…you’re turning me down.”
“Yes.”
Again Jonah hesitated, but this time his voice was void of emotion.
“I understand. Oh, and Kirby, this call never happened.”
“What call, sir?”
The line went dead and Kirby knew there would never be a traceable record of the call ever happening. A fresh wave of guilt hit him head-on.
“Damn it to hell.”
He spun on his heels and headed back to the hotel.
Chapter 2
Sweat slipped from the sweatband around Alicia Corbin’s head and into her right eye as she focused on a spot upon the wall in front of her, rather than the pain of burning muscles in her legs. Gripping the handlebars of the workout bike a little tighter, she glanced at the digital readout on the machine and grimaced. Only another mile to go and she could quit.
Although she was a health club regular, she hated working out. Her preference would have been to take a long, leisurely walk in a deeply wooded area with only squirrels and deer for companions rather than some of these perspiring males who kept strutting from one machine to the other, and whose sole intent was for a perfect body and some female adulation. But then Ally would be the first to admit that she was uncomfortable with her own sexuality. She didn’t see herself as others saw her. She looked in a mirror and saw a woman on the verge of being too thin, whereas most women would have been overjoyed to be built in her image. Of average height, Ally’s slim, finely toned body was strong and high-breasted with hips that would never spread. The striking combination of auburn hair and green eyes gave her youthful features a pixie appearance, rather than that of a sultry vixen. But there was nothing fey about Ally. No one would ever have guessed that she was a highly-trained operative within a secret branch of the government, or that her IQ was off the scale. She’d entered high school at the age of ten, graduating two years later. By the time she had turned seventeen, she had a Ph.D. in physics, another in criminology, and was considering another round of classes when she’d been recruited by SPEAR. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Her parents, intellectuals who were more concerned with their life paths than with hers, had left most of her upbringing to hired help and higher education, so it was no jolt for Ally to go from a college campus to the training ground of SPEAR.
But being so much younger than her fellow students at college had been a drawback socially. She had made no close friends. If anyone had happened to notice that the quiet little genius was no longer on campus, it was so much the better. At least she wouldn’t be ruining the grading curve for anyone else.
And for Ally, joining SPEAR was all a matter of readjusting priorities. There wasn’t much SPEAR’s instructors could teach her in the way of technology, but learning about covert activities and enduring the intense physical training put her in an entirely different world. There had been days when she wasn’t sure she would survive, yet she had. Now it was so much a part of her life, she rarely thought about the way it had been before.
Today was only the second day of a much needed vacation and making the decision to go to the gym had come in a weak moment. Now, as she neared the end of her workout, the muscles in her legs were weak and burning. She gritted her teeth and bared down on the pedals, giving up her last bit of energy. Just as the digital readout clicked over to read twenty miles, she began to ease off, letting her muscles adjust to stopping. Finally, as she let her feet slip out of the pedals, she slumped over the handlebars with sweat pouring down her neck and between her breasts, her heart thundering in her ears.
As she sat, her cell phone began to ring. Wearily, she slid off the bicycle seat and walked toward the bench where she’d left a fresh towel and her phone, wondering as she did, who could have possibly known she was here. As she picked it up to answer, she remembered she’d left Call Forwarding on her phone.
“Hello?”
“Alicia, we haven’t heard from you in a while.”
The cool, almost impersonal tone in her mother’s voice had long since ceased to hurt her. She draped the fresh towel around her neck and began mopping perspiration as she dropped onto the bench.
“I’ve been…gone,” Ally said, hesitating on the last word. There was never any option about discussing the cases she worked on with a
nyone, parent or no. In fact, discussion about SPEAR was nonexistent, because to the general public, SPEAR did not even exist.
“We assumed as much.” Then, as if it was no big deal, Mavis Corbin added, “Next week is your birthday, but your father and I are going to be out of the country. So, Happy Birthday, Alicia and many more.”
Ally ignored a quick surge of disappointment. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. It wouldn’t be the last.
“Thank you, Mother,” Ally said. “Where are you going this time?”
“Egypt. A whole new burial ground has been discovered. Your father is so excited. This is very important to us, you know.”
Ally grinned bitterly. She knew all too well what was important to her parents and she was low on the list. “Yes, Mother, I know. Have a good trip and thanks for calling.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Take care.”
Before Ally could respond, the line went dead. She hung up the receiver and headed for the showers. She had a sudden urge for a milkshake and a chocolate doughnut. Instead, a half hour later she was standing in line, waiting for her order of black coffee and a plain bagel to be filled.
“Four-fifty,” the clerk said, handing her a white sack with the top neatly folded and a steaming cup of coffee.
She paid, stuffed her change in the pocket of her sweatpants and headed for the door. It wasn’t until she was unlocking her car and the sack bumped against the door that she realized there was something more than a bagel inside. The hair crawled on the back of her neck as she slid behind the steering wheel and locked herself in. Then she set her coffee cup in the holder on the dash and opened the sack.
The small black cassette in the bottom of the sack could only mean one thing.
“Well, hell,” Ally muttered, as she slid the cassette into the stereo on the dash. Jonah’s deep, gravelly voice was familiar, as was the unusual way in which she’d been contacted. It was typical of the anonymity of SPEAR. Ordinarily she would have been excited about a new assignment, but she hadn’t even been home long enough to do laundry or have an all-night session watching her favorite movies.