by Lynn Ames
“Sedona,” Kate whispered.
“Complete with a picture,” the president confirmed. “Of course, I was briefed immediately by my communications staff.”
“Not by Secretary Hart, dear?”
“Apparently, he didn’t think the matter warranted my attention.”
“What?”
The president held up a hand to ward off his wife’s impending tirade. “He said he was waiting to fill me in until he had more information.”
“Bullshit. Pardon my English,” the First Lady said.
“So where are we now, Mr. President?” Kate asked.
“I let him sweat for a while. I wanted to know whether or not he would tell me where the report came from.”
“Did he?”
“No. He hemmed and hawed and said he would get back to me about that.”
“Do you think he knows this Deputy Director Niger, sir?” Jay asked.
“I’m not sure.” The president sighed. “I wish Sabastien was here to do a little digging. I get the feeling that Hart knows a lot more than he’s saying. But, since the report originated with Niger and not Hart, I have no way of knowing whether or not he shares any culpability.”
“Or whether he’s just a dupe,” the First Lady said.
“Exactly.”
Jay dabbed her mouth with a napkin and put it on the table. “Sir? I know I’m not a computer geek, but if you’ll pardon my saying so, I think what you could use right now is a really good reporter.”
“How so?” the president asked.
“You want to know whether there’s any connection between Hart and Niger.”
The president nodded.
“You don’t need a computer geek for that, although I’m sure he could find you the answer.”
Kate translated. “Sir, what Jay is saying is, she can help you get to the bottom of this.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but before her career as a novelist, my wife was a top reporter at Time magazine.”
Jay blushed.
“You know, I think I did know that, but I’d totally forgotten about it.”
“If you want someone who can dig and do in-depth research, Jay’s your answer, sir.”
“I’m sold,” the First Lady said.
“Okay,” the president agreed. “How long do you think it will take you?”
“I guess it depends what kind of resources I’ll have to work with,” Jay answered.
“Whatever you need.”
“Is there a way to get Deputy Director Niger’s employment records, sir? There are a lot of things I can discover just looking around the web, but the NSA is the most secretive agency we have. Although Sabastien no doubt could get you that information, hacking into secure databases isn’t in my repertoire.”
“As a matter of fact, Sabastien sent me a report on Niger just before they left Kuwait. Vaughn wanted to be sure I had the incriminating evidence in case…” The president stopped short of saying what none of them wanted to consider.
“Well,” Jay said hoarsely, “that’ll make my job a lot easier.”
“Do we have her yet?” Orlando Niger asked. Today he and Daniel Hart were jogging in the chill Washington, D.C. morning air.
“Not yet. I told you, it’s just a matter of time. I’m guessing by tonight or tomorrow I’ll have a report of her demise on my desk and the president can take credit for another win in the war on terror.”
“You looked good on Fox last night, by the way, Daniel. Very important. That reporter’s a good-looking piece of ass too.”
“Hell-fire in bed, but a pain-in-the-ass. Too high maintenance.”
“You’re screwing her?” Niger whistled. “Nice.”
“Like I said, a good fuck, but she’s always wanting me to give her scoops.”
“You saying she’s not worth it?” They turned the corner toward the Washington Monument.
“Nah. I’ll keep banging her until we’ve got what we need on this story, then I’ll dump her ass.”
“That’s a shame. She’s smoking.”
“You can have her when I’m done with her.”
“No thanks.” Niger picked up the pace as they neared their usual stopping point. “I don’t take sloppy seconds.” They sprinted across the imaginary finish line and both bent over, gasping for air.
When they recovered, Hart started walking. Niger caught up to him after a second.
“Listen, Orlando. There’s something we need to talk about.”
“Okay.”
“The president called me on the carpet last night after the story ran.”
Niger’s head jerked up. “And?”
“And he was pissed that he was out of the loop.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“I told him it was an oversight—that I was waiting to report to him until I had more solid intelligence on her whereabouts.”
“Did he buy it?”
“I don’t know. He asked a lot of questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“He wanted to know where I got the information. He wanted a name at the NSA. He wanted the person who was suspicious enough of Ramos to have her watched.”
Niger pulled them up short by grabbing Hart’s elbow. “What the hell did you say?”
“Relax.” Hart yanked his arm away. “I told him I’d have to get back to him on that.”
“He bought it?”
“For now.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We need a story.” Hart started walking again in the direction of his car. “I need a name—someone that would’ve authorized surveillance on Ramos.”
“Shit, Daniel.”
“Make it up.”
“What if he follows up?”
“He’s not going to. You think the president has time to fuck around with stuff like that?”
“I think we need to be very careful about this.”
“If I give him your name, you look like a hero for identifying a dangerous terrorist.”
“I don’t want my fingerprints on this.”
“If the president asks your boss, your boss is going to tell him you were the one who brought it to his attention.”
“Yeah, but somebody had to bring it to my attention. There’s no way the deputy director is aware of some agent’s activities on that level.”
“Well, give me somebody!” Hart thundered. “You want to keep your little hands clean, give me someone else.”
Niger furrowed his brow in thought. “Jesus… Jesus.”
“I don’t think the president will buy that this was Jesus’s doing,” Hart deadpanned.
“Very funny. It’s not your ass on the line.”
“Oh no? Who has to give the president hourly updates on the situation?”
“Hourly?” Niger squeaked.
“Welcome to my world.”
Niger bit his lip in concentration. “Okay… Okay. How about if we tell him it was the Internal Affairs Department that ordered the investigation? They brought it to the attention of the Inspector General, and he told me about it.”
“How did Internal Affairs know to look at Ramos?”
“Anonymous tip.”
“Seriously? You think that’ll fly?”
“It does happen. It really is possible that no one would know the original source.”
Hart considered. “Okay. I’ll try to keep your name out of it. I’ll go straight for the Internal Affairs angle and try to shift the subject off that as quickly as possible.”
“When do you have to see the president again?”
“Whenever he says so.” Hart pressed the button on his key fob to unlock his car. “See you at the gym tomorrow?”
“Do you think that’s such a good idea?” Niger asked. “Us being seen together?”
“Relax. As far as anybody knows, we’re just a couple of old friends working out together. We’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Jay’s hair wa
s sticking up at odd angles. She was deeply engrossed in something on her computer screen and pieces of paper were strewn all over the desk.
Kate came over and kissed her on the forehead. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going.”
“Are you hungry?”
Jay looked up at Kate. “When have you ever known me not to be hungry?”
“Good point.” Kate sat on the edge of the desk and held out a spoon.
“What’s this?”
“I thought you could use a little brain food.” From behind her back, Kate produced a carton of hand-packed ice cream.
“Cookie-dough ice cream? You brought me ice cream?”
“I did.”
Jay grabbed the spoon. She pushed herself up out of the chair and kissed Kate on the cheek. “I think I love you.”
“That’s a good thing,” Kate said. “Otherwise, why would you have married me?”
“So I could have someone who could retrieve items off the top shelf, of course.”
“You are in so much trouble, Jamison Parker.”
“Tell me about it.” Jay took a huge spoonful of ice cream.
“So, what do you have?”
Jay swallowed and took another generous spoonful. “There’s nothing while Niger is at the NSA, but did you know Hart and Niger knew each other twenty years ago?”
“What?”
Jay pointed to the screen and a picture of an army unit in battle fatigues. “See this guy here?” She pointed at a figure in the middle row. “That’s Niger.” She moved her finger to the upper right corner of the picture. “That’s his company commander—Daniel Hart.”
“No kidding.”
“No kidding.”
Kate kissed Jay hard on the lips. “I think I love you too.”
“Good to know,” Jay said, and stole another, longer kiss. “Good to know.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Two hundred yards to the starboard side, Sedona could see the outline of a large ship. She tapped Peter on the shoulder and pointed. “Is that our ride?”
Peter handed her the night scope. “See for yourself.”
Sedona adjusted the sight and focused in on the ship’s markings. “Looks like our ship just came in,” she said. The Red Cross flag was clearly visible through the scope. They’d been on the water for nearly three hours, moving slowly so as not to attract unwanted attention with the engine noise.
“Okay,” Vaughn said. “Let’s get a little closer before we give the signal.” She maneuvered the boat towards the ship’s wake. “Justine?”
“Yeah?”
“What was the pre-arranged signal? You do have one, right?”
“No. I thought we’d just waltz right up to the ship and ask permission to board.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yes, Vaughn, I worked out a series of signals with the security chief.”
“How are we doing on time?” Lorraine asked.
Justine consulted her dive watch. “We’re within the half hour window I gave him.”
“So far, so good,” Peter said. He tapped Sedona’s leg and she raised an eyebrow in question. “How does it feel to you?” he mouthed.
Sedona smiled. It felt odd, and yet somehow natural, that he would ask her to use her abilities to suss out the situation. She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Archangels, angels, ascended masters, guides, I need crystal clear guidance and information here. Is meeting up with this Red Cross ship safe for us? Will we be okay?
“You are fine but limit your exposure.”
Sedona nodded in acknowledgment. When she opened her eyes again, Peter was smiling at her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his eyes were twinkling. She gave him a thumbs-up.
That’s when she noticed that Vaughn was watching her too. She swallowed hard. Vaughn had already questioned her once about her behavior on the plane when she hadn’t realized her lips moved as she talked to the angels. Now this. She hoped Vaughn would be too preoccupied with the impending rendezvous to think much about it. Somehow, though, she imagined that Vaughn had a long memory. Just her luck.
“Welcome,” the chief of security said as he gave Sedona a hand as she stepped into the hull of the ship.
Vaughn followed immediately behind. She wanted to say she was professional enough not to stare at Sedona’s ass directly in front of her, but she would’ve been lying. When her eyes finally tracked upward, she saw the way the chief of security looked at Sedona’s face and she had an irrational urge to cold-cock the man.
“Hi,” she said, stepping between the two of them. “Thanks for helping us out.”
“Thank my boss—he’s the one that set this up.” He gestured toward the passageway. “You’re welcome to get cleaned up in the crew’s quarters. Everyone’s asleep, but there are a few extra bunks if you want to catch some shuteye.”
“Thanks—” Vaughn started to say. Sedona gripped her forearm and squeezed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sedona’s barely perceptible shake of the head. Puzzled, Vaughn nonetheless altered her intended answer. “If you just have a head somewhere down here, that’ll be good. We’ll get cleaned up there and stay out of everybody’s way.”
Sedona gave an equally imperceptible nod. The rest of the team simply went about arranging their gear so that they would have a makeshift place to sit.
“As you wish,” the chief of security said. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather get more comfortable in actual berths?”
“No, thanks. We’re fine,” Vaughn answered.
“In that case, there’s a head over here.” He led the way between rows of wooden crates to a narrow door with a unisex bathroom sign.
“Excellent. Thanks.”
“If you’re sure you don’t need anything else…”
“No, we’re good, thanks.”
“Very well.”
“When we arrive in Baghdad,” Vaughn said, “we’ll wait for your signal that all is clear, then we’ll disembark.”
“Fine. See you a little later, then.”
When he was gone, Vaughn turned to Sedona. “Want to tell me what that was all about?”
Sedona shrugged. “Call it a hunch. I just think we really need to limit our exposure. After all, I’m a wanted fugitive, and we don’t know who we can trust.”
Vaughn frowned. The explanation was logical and sound, but somehow, she felt there was more Sedona wasn’t telling her. She stowed her own gear and settled in for the ride up the Persian Gulf and through the mouth of the Tigris River to Baghdad.
Wayne Grayson scowled at his nephew through the scarred Plexiglas and picked up the phone to talk to him. “I know what Daniel’s been up to—I can see his efforts are paying off by watching the news. I know what Quinn is up to because I’ve got sources in here that keep me up to date. I know Kincaid got the pipeline through her committee and in position for a floor vote, because I read it in the newspaper.” Grayson cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder and examined his fingernails. “The question, Astin, is what the hell have you been doing while everyone else is doing something relevant?”
Astin stared at a point over his uncle’s head. “I got us actionable information that the Ramos woman would be on a flight from JFK to Istanbul via Frankfurt this morning.”
“But she wasn’t on that flight, now was she?” Grayson kept his voice quiet. In his experience, this outwardly calm demeanor made him more feared than any blustering could do.
Astin adjusted his tie. “No, sir. B-but that doesn’t mean she’s not still going to Istanbul.”
“How many men did we waste cooling their heels at JFK watching for Ramos?”
“It wasn’t a waste.” Astin pouted. “It was good intel and it was worth the expenditure of manpower.”
A vein throbbed in Grayson’s forehead. He sat forward in his chair and grabbed the phone from between his neck and shoulder with his handcuffed hand. “Really? And you’re qualified to judge that because…?”
“What do you mean?” Astin
leaned back to create more space between them.
“What qualifies you to make strategic decisions, Astin?”
“I’m in charge—”
“No, Astin.” Grayson leaned closer still and fixed his nephew with a withering look. “I’m in charge.” He poked himself in the chest with his thumb. “I’ve let you play in the sandbox, hoping that you would grow into the role and bring honor to this family.”
Astin’s face reddened. “I am a successful businessman in my own right. I run a huge oil company. People cower before me!”
“No, Astin. You’re a pissant little nobody. I let you make crappy business decisions as head of one of my smallest, most inconsequential companies because I knew it didn’t matter if you fucked things up there. And people cower because you’re a sadistic son-of-a-bitch—a completely irresponsible loose cannon.”
Astin stared, slack-jawed.
“You’re done.” Grayson sat back and stretched his legs out.
“W-what do you mean, done?”
“I mean you’re relieved of any ‘command’ responsibilities beyond your little oil company. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
When Astin simply sat there, unmoving, Grayson stood up and leaned on the table on his side of the partition. “I’m making Hart my second-in-command. You’ll keep your precious place as one of ‘The Four.’” The last he said derisively. “But if I find out you’ve interfered in any way, I’ll make sure you’ll be peeing through a straw for the rest of your life. Now do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Astin nodded dumbly and Grayson started to put the phone down. Then he thought better of it. “Oh, and Astin? If anything happens to Steven Ochs or his pitiful cat—”
“Who?”
“The computer geek that told you about the JFK flight. If so much as a hair on his head is out of place, or if so much as a whisker is missing from his cat, your pecker won’t be the only thing you have to worry about.”
“Well, Daniel? What’s the situation with our imminent terrorist threat? Do you have her in custody yet?” The president put Hart on speakerphone so that Kate and Jay, who were sitting on a sofa in the president’s office in the residence, could listen in.