by Lynn Ames
The president jumped up to pace again. “It seems inconceivable to me that one or more of my direct reports wouldn’t know something about this. And since none of them has indicated an awareness of any activity at all in the area…”
“You’re worried about an internal, covert operation being driven or sanctioned by some of your own people,” Kate said.
The president’s expression was grim. “I think we have to consider it as a possibility. That’s why I need a team that’s above reproach to investigate.”
“You’re looking for someone outside the normal chain of command.”
“I’m looking for someone who’s off the grid entirely,” the president corrected. “Kate, I believe you’re acquainted with former CIA agent Vaughn Elliott?”
Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “How did you—”
“I’m the president.”
“Of course, sir. Yes, sir. I know Vaughn, but she retired.”
“I’m aware, Kate. And, officially, I’d like her to stay that way…”
“Yes, sir.”
“She’s proved herself many times over, and I know she’s someone who gets results and who can be trusted implicitly. And, I imagine she still has other members of her band of merry men and women who would follow her into a burning building without asking a question.”
“I wouldn’t know about that, sir. Vaughn and I are social friends, not business colleagues.”
“I know that too. That’s why I’m banking on you being able to persuade her to take this assignment.”
“Sir?”
“She knows you respect her privacy and her choices. If you ask her, she’ll understand how imperative her participation is to the success of this mission.”
“I don’t know about that, sir, but I can try.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” The president pulled a manila envelope from a drawer and handed it to Kate. “Give this to her. It contains a detailed mission briefing, along with other items she’ll need.”
“I’m assuming you’ve got something planned for me, sir?”
“Peter, over the years you’ve been an invaluable asset and a true patriot. Not just one, but many presidents have trusted you with their lives.”
Peter shifted uncomfortably, and the president hurried on. “I know you’ve taken yourself out of the game.”
“Not entirely, sir. I’m a consultant.”
The president shook his head. “Not this time. I need you to get back on the field for this one. Elliott will require a lot of help. I want her to have the best. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what’s at stake. We’re talking about potential weapons of mass destruction here and I need the utmost discretion. I have no idea who are the good guys, and who are the bad guys, so I’m not taking any chances.”
“Yes, sir,” both Peter and Kate answered.
“There are instructions in the packet for communicating from the field. You’re answerable only to me, and you’ll have direct access to me, any time, night or day.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I understand Ms. Elliott has picked herself a nice, secluded retirement spot.”
“That’s a nice way to say she’s in the middle of nowhere, sir.” Kate laughed.
“I’ve arranged transportation for you. You’ll find the rest of what you’ll need on board the bird.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The president picked up his private phone. “Now let’s see if I can convince the last member of your team to officially come on board.” He dialed a number from a slip of paper he pulled from his pocket. “Ms. Ramos? This is the president. I’m glad you didn’t throw away the phone. I know you think it best to stay away, but I’ve put together a very special, very unofficial team to look into Tuwaitha. I trust them with my life and I hope you’ll trust them with yours.”
Kate and Peter watched as the president listened and nodded.
“Yes, I understand. But we really need your expertise. You know Iraq and you know Tuwaitha. Ms. Ramos, your country needs you.”
The president paused again to listen and waved dismissively. “The target on your back is all the more reason I want you involved in this on the inside. Believe me, we have the means to deflect any unwanted attention and to send these folks on a wild goose chase that will have them running in circles for a very long time…
“Where are you? Very well…I’m sending a small, private plane to pick you up. It will be completely off the radar. There won’t be anyone official or anything at all to tie the plane to me or to any government agency. For all intents and purposes, it’ll look like a private jet picking up a businesswoman on the way to a meeting. On board will be two people, Katherine Kyle and Peter Enright, both winners of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. They earned that by saving the life of former President Hyland. I’ve selected them and the other member of the team both because they’re the best, and because they have no ties to any of the players who might have anything to do with the goings-on at Tuwaitha. They’ll brief you on the rest of the details…
“The plane will pick you up in less than two hours. Thank you, Ms. Ramos. I’ll look forward to meeting you on a more formal basis when this is all over. Goodbye.”
The president hung up the phone and faced Kate and Peter. “Okay. She’s on board, albeit reluctantly. Here’s her contact information.” He handed Kate the piece of paper from which he’d dialed her number, and then consulted his watch. “Better get going. The helicopter will take you back to Andrews, where a small plane will be waiting to take you to Albany, New York.”
Kate and Peter raised eyebrows simultaneously. “Looks like we’re making a stop in our old stomping grounds,” Kate said.
“Looks like it.”
“From there, you’ll be taken to Elliott’s compound. I’ll leave it to you to figure out the best approach to use to convince her how important this matter is and how much we need her participation and expertise.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Keep Ms. Ramos safe. I don’t know who’s behind this, but it’s obvious they mean business.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Godspeed to both of you.”
The plane bounced twice, then taxied smoothly toward the private terminal at Albany International Airport.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” Jamison Parker, New York Times best-selling author and Kate’s wife, shifted self-consciously in her seat.
Kate raised an eyebrow. “First, I cleared bringing you along with the president’s people. Second, I paid for your flight to avoid any appearance of impropriety. Third, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. We’ve never spent it apart and we’re jetting off to an island paradise. What part of that makes you uncomfortable?”
Jay patted Kate’s cheek. “The part where you picked up a passenger at Andrews who hasn’t been cleared to hear the details of this mission.”
“We’ve got that covered, right Peter?”
“Yes, dear.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” Jay said.
“It’s simple. Peter and I will brief our passenger on the plane, away from your sensitive ears. Once we arrive at our destination and get the social niceties out of the way with Vaughn, you’ll politely excuse yourself. I’ll come get you when we’re done talking business and you and I will start our vacation. Alone. Together. On a semi-deserted island.” Kate waggled her eyebrows. “Did I mention alone?”
Jay laughed. “You might have said it in passing.”
“Okay, folks. We’re clear to disembark,” the pilot said.
“This’ll only take a few minutes,” Kate said to the pilot. She trotted down the stairs, across the tarmac, and into the terminal, leaving Peter and Jay behind.
Kate spotted Sedona right away. She was standing in one of the airport concessions pretending to read a magazine. She was well positioned with her back to the wall so that she could see the foot traffic in all directions. For someone who was being hunted, she looked remarkably composed.
Kate took stock of the people milling about and judged that likely none of them were paying undue attention to Sedona, so she approached casually, as if she were meeting a business colleague.
“Sorry it took me so long to get here,” Kate said. She noted that although Sedona shifted so that her weight was on the balls of her feet, she made no move to run. “The boss wanted to make sure we had the most up-to-date information available.”
Sedona made a non-committal sound.
Kate pointed to the briefcase she held in her hand, then to the magazine Sedona was holding with the president’s picture on the cover. “I think he’s much more handsome in person.”
“I agree, although he’s a little taller than I expected.” Sedona put the magazine back on the rack, pushed off the wall, picked up her bag, and started to walk toward the door leading to the tarmac.
Kate, who expected Sedona to be more wary than she apparently was, took a second to catch up. When she did, she said, “I’m Katherine Kyle and this,” Kate handed Sedona an envelope with the raised seal of the president’s office on it, “is for you.”
“Thanks.”
Kate watched Sedona’s profile as she tucked the envelope in her coat pocket and continued to walk. She furrowed her brow. “Don’t you want to have a look at that?”
“Don’t need to.”
“Why is that?”
“I believe you are who you say you are, and that the president sent you.”
Kate was positive the president hadn’t provided Sedona with her picture. “And you know that because…?”
“Your energy,” Sedona said, without breaking stride.
“My energy?”
“Yep.” Sedona glanced at her quickly and continued to scan the terminal as they approached the exit. “Your energy is very clean and positive and there are many angels surrounding you. That wouldn’t be true if you wanted to do me harm. Plus, Archangel Michael told me to trust you.”
Kate nearly stumbled. Was this woman, a decorated NSA operative presently being hunted by people who clearly wanted to kill her, talking to her about metaphysical stuff? “Unbelievable,” she muttered.
“Oh, and I googled you as soon as the president told me whom I’d be meeting.” Sedona winked and pointed to the exit. “You coming?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sedona bounded up the stairs and stepped inside the plane, pausing just long enough to let her eyes adjust to the change in lighting. She blinked as her gaze settled on a stunning blonde sitting in the front row. She was gesticulating with her hands and talking animatedly to a ruggedly distinguished man in the seat opposite her. The blonde looked up and smiled.
“Hi,” she said as she jumped to her feet. “You must be Sedona. I’m Jamison Parker—Jay to my friends. Don’t mind me, I’m not really here.”
Sedona smiled in return—really, it was hard not to in the face of such vivaciousness. She noted that the numerous pictures she’d seen of Kate and Jay hardly did them justice. Sedona shook the outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, or not, since you’re not really here.” She turned toward the gentleman. “Peter Enright, I presume?”
“Excellent powers of deductive reasoning.”
Sedona noted his handshake was firm, but not overpowering. While she had no trouble finding plenty of information all over the Internet on Kate and Jay, she found precious little about Peter Enright. She found that intriguing, but not alarming. If he was CIA, as Sedona suspected he was, it would’ve been more surprising than not if her cursory search turned up much.
“We’re good to go,” Kate said to the pilot as she came up behind Sedona.
Sedona stowed her bag, took the seat next to Peter, and prepared for takeoff.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” he said. “Sounds like you’ve had a pretty harrowing time of it.”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Sedona shifted in her seat so she could see Peter’s eyes. In them she saw intelligence and compassion. A quick peek at his aura revealed a man with a huge heart who likely trusted his gut hunches rather than any material information he received. There was a significant amount of purple in his field, so he clearly was allied closely with Archangel Michael as a fierce warrior. Yet, that compassion she saw indicated that he chose his battles carefully and only when provoked. And battle he must have done, judging from the cloudy area in his chest near his heart chakra. Sedona wondered what had happened to cause that.
“Sedona,” Jay said as the plane taxied down the runway. “That’s a pretty name. Any relation to the town?”
“Mmm. It’s where I was conceived.”
“Kate and I love that place. It’s so beautiful. Magical, really.”
“I think so too.” The loving look that passed between Kate and Jay as their fingers interlaced wasn’t lost on Sedona. She suffered a brief pang for something she once had, but knew she never would have again. Her back pressed into the seat as the plane left the runway and began its ascent. The increase in engine noise precluded any further conversation.
When the plane reached altitude and leveled off, Kate said, “Shall we get the briefing out of the way? It’s a long flight. I’m sure Sedona would like to catch some shuteye.”
“Sure,” Peter said.
Jay held up a hand. “That’s my cue to exit stage right.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, kissed Kate on the forehead, and stepped over her and into the aisle. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m glad you’re okay,” she said to Sedona. To the group she said, “Let me know when it’s all clear for me to come back.” She walked to the back of the plane, lay down across two seats, and closed her eyes.
Sedona waited until Kate’s eyes stopped tracking Jay. “First, it would help if I knew where, exactly, this long flight is taking us.” Sedona looked at Kate, then at Peter.
“The team leader is a former CIA officer,” Kate said. “Her name is Vaughn Elliott. She lives on a remote island in the Caribbean. We’re going to see her now.”
Sedona absorbed this information, pleased that the president chose a woman to spearhead the mission. She turned to Peter. “I like to know who I’m working with. Are you Company as well?”
Kate answered for him. “Peter worked for the New York State Department of Correctional Services for years and is an independent consultant with an expertise in weapons and technology.”
“And?” Sedona allowed her skepticism to show. She looked pointedly at Peter. She watched as he made up his mind how much to share.
“And I was”—he emphasized the last word—“Company. Deep cover.”
“I thought the credo was, once a Company man, always a Company man.”
“I haven’t been active or in the field for a long time.”
Sedona wondered if that fact and the faraway look in his eyes had anything to do with the cloudy area in his aura, but his tone indicated he had shared as much as he intended.
“The president tells us you have some familiarity with Tuwaitha.”
Sedona accepted the change in topic with equanimity. “I was there when we cleared the place out and shut it down. That’s why I knew what I was looking at so quickly when the images came up on my monitor. It’s also how I knew that something was very wrong.”
“About that,” Kate said. “If someone was trying to do something surreptitious, why put it in the NSA system where someone like you could find it?”
Sedona nodded, appreciating that Kate cut to the heart of the most vexing thing about the situation. She’d been wondering about that also. “I don’t know, yet. On the face of it, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“How did you happen across the file?” Peter asked.
“I was working late at my desk in the NSOC.” Noting their blank stares, Sedona clarified, “the National Security Operations Center. Nothing unusual there. My assignment was to review the latest batch of Arabic-language intercepts from Iraq. We were looking for evidence of an impending action the CIA got wind of a while back. So I was double-checking the translation of the c
hatter from our front-line analysts. As you can imagine, the stream of information is constant.”
Kate and Peter nodded.
“I plowed through all of one set of files pretty quickly and I had nowhere to be, so I thought I’d help out and tackle the next set to give the late shift a head start. I got down to the last electronic file folder in the next batch. That’s when it got hinky.”
The co-pilot emerged from the cockpit with four bottles of water, and Sedona stopped talking.
“Anybody thirsty?”
Once he was gone, Sedona resumed her story. “Every file that comes through is identified both by the analyst that captured the information and by the person who requested it. There are no exceptions to this—it’s standard protocol and required in order to upload the file and have it included in the folder.”
“How are the contents of each folder determined?” Kate asked.
“Files are sorted first by conversation thread and secondarily by target, then by timeframe. Everything pertinent within a given period of time would be included in the folder.” Sedona took a sip of water. “So if separate phone calls or meetings involve say, a total of eight people, all of those individual discussions would be their own file and would be included in one folder, prioritized by primary target of interest, then secondary target and on down the line.”
“How many files were in the folder you were reviewing?” Peter asked.
“There were seven. But, as I started to say, the thing that made the last file in the folder unusual was that it identified neither the field agent nor the translator—where that information should have been, there was a series of numbers. In the middle of several pages of seemingly innocuous text were the images of Tuwaitha.”
“Interesting,” Peter said. “What were the other files in the folder?”
“Nothing special. Routine discussions about plans for minor incursions and actions. Some tough talk and bragging about stuff these guys were never going to do but that made them feel like big men.”