by Lynn Ames
“See? I’m in great hands.” Peter took the GPS tracker Sabastien handed him so he could keep a fix on his location. “By the way,” Peter said as the rest of the group headed off, “In the picture they’re using of you, your hair is long. I like the new hairdo better.”
Sedona looked back and smiled. “Me too.”
Vaughn led the way with Lorraine walking alongside Sedona and Justine and Sabastien trailing behind. For all intents and purposes, the group looked like a squad on patrol. Given what they’d already encountered, this would allow them to blend with their environment.
In the twelve blocks they’d traveled since leaving the ship, they avoided four American patrols and two more checkpoints. The checkpoints, according to what they could pick up from their vantage points in the shadows of alleys and side streets, were set up specifically to hunt for Sedona, and the patrols were on high alert.
For nearly a block, the only sound was the crunching of their boots on the dirt and gravel. Sedona kept herself on high alert. She prayed to Archangel Michael to surround the group with purple light for protection. She asked Archangels Metatron, Zadkiel, and Jeramiel to keep her ear chakras and her third eye clear and open so that she could hear and see Divine guidance with crystal clarity. She surrounded all of them with a cadre of guardian angels to act as sentries on their journey. When she could think of nothing else to do or ask for to keep them safe, she prayed for Peter’s safety.
“Hey.”
Sedona jumped when Vaughn appeared by her side. Lorraine was now taking point. “You’re not nervous, are you?” Vaughn chuckled.
“No. I was just lost in thought.”
“I bet you were. Me too, as a matter of fact.”
“Oh?”
“Yep.” Vaughn lowered her voice so only Sedona could hear her. “I was thinking about what happened back there at the checkpoint. You know, where the soldier said he randomly asked crew members if any of them recognized you?”
Sedona swallowed hard. She could see where this was going, and she wasn’t entirely sure how to get around it this time. Vaughn seemed determined to unmask Sedona’s psychic abilities.
When Sedona said nothing, Vaughn pushed on. “So, it turns out you were right about limiting our exposure to the crew. If we had ventured into their quarters, it is quite possible that one or more of them could’ve gotten a look at you or at least wondered what we all were doing there.”
“That was just sound strategy.”
“Maybe…or maybe you knew something you weren’t sharing.”
“How would I know something like that?” Sedona kept her voice light and hoped that Vaughn would let it go.
“Honestly? I don’t know. But I am wondering. When something happens once, I chalk it up to chance. Twice? Coincidence. But that’s the third or fourth time you’ve suggested or known something and it’s turned out to be accurate. I can’t chalk that up to coincidence.”
“You’re trained to be suspicious of everything.”
“I’m also trained to watch for synchronicities, cause and effect, and patterns.”
“But mostly, you’re trained to be suspicious.” Sedona wagged a finger at Vaughn. “Over-active imagination as a child? Or just plain old adult paranoia?”
“Shh,” Lorraine said. She motioned for the group to stop and move back against the wall of the nearest building. “Patrol at twelve o’clock, headed directly this way—thirty feet at most. What do you want to do?” She asked Vaughn.
Sedona looked around. There was no escape. Archangel Michael, what would you have us do?
“I will shield you. Walk as a unit and act as if you have just checked this street.”
“Keep walking,” Sedona said to the group. “Lorraine, greet them as they go by. I’ll walk behind Vaughn, since she’s the tallest, and stay closest to the wall to avoid a head-on look. Justine, walk to my right and just slightly in front of me so your shoulder shields me from view. If they say anything, we just did a sweep of this street and can save them the trouble.”
Vaughn looked at her oddly. The rest of the group looked at Vaughn. The patrol was less than twenty feet away. Vaughn narrowed her eyes at Sedona one more time, but Sedona steadily held her gaze.
“Do what she says.”
Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Sedona concentrated on her breath. Archangel Michael, please take away any fear I might have about being discovered. Five feet.
“Hey,” said the lead soldier of the approaching unit. “What are you doing here? This is our sector.”
“Is it?” Lorraine asked. “I must’ve heard the staff sergeant wrong.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we just swept this street, so we can save you the trouble. It’s clear.”
“Thanks, but we have to head that way as part of the grid search for that American terror suspect.”
Sedona’s heart jumped. She could feel similar reactions all around her in the group. She fought to maintain her composure.
The soldier continued, “The instructions were pretty clear. I can’t understand how your staff sergeant could’ve screwed that up.”
Again, Lorraine shrugged. “Bad sense of direction, I guess. I’ll radio in and find out where we’re supposed to be. You guys be safe out here.”
“Same to you. Hope you figure out where the heck you’re supposed to be.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Lorraine waved them away as the group continued forward.
When they were a safe distance away, Sedona closed her eyes and blew out an explosive breath. Her legs felt like rubber.
“How did you know that would work?” Vaughn asked.
Sedona sighed. She wondered what it would take to get Vaughn to let the subject go. “I didn’t. We just got lucky.”
“Again,” Vaughn pointed out. “Boy, we sure are lucky these days.”
“Yep. We sure are.”
Max Kingston sat in a plain white van on Constitution Avenue and turned up the volume on the ear bud he was using to monitor Department of Homeland Security Secretary Daniel Hart. It was simple to gain access to Hart’s phone when he put it on the sink in the men’s room at the Capitol and simpler still to use it as a receiver to pick up all of his conversations. The man was almost never without that phone. It certainly made Max’s job easy.
So far, Max was having trouble piecing together anything that made sense about his movements. He made a round of visits to Capitol Hill to meet with various congressmen and senators on a variety of topics. Then he sat down for coffee with a high-priced defense attorney best known for representing white-collar criminals. At the moment, he was having lunch at an exclusive club for the rich and powerful.
None of it seemed particularly interesting or important to Max, but he took pictures of every person with whom Hart came in contact just the same. Maybe Kate and Jay could find a pattern in it.
Max did notice that the pretty senator whom Hart met in the Capitol rotunda was the same woman he was having lunch with now. Max wondered if they were having an affair. He didn’t have audio on the Capitol conversation because it took place before Hart went to the men’s room. And there was so much ambient noise in the club it was hard to get a clear fix on a conversation.
When Hart came out with the woman, they were engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation with another man.
“It’s settled, Astin. End of conversation.”
“You’re making a big mistake, Daniel.”
“The mistake was ever giving you as much leeway as we did.”
“You can’t talk to me like that.”
“The hell I can’t.”
“Stop it,” the senator said, literally stepping between them. Max thought she looked weary. “We’re not getting anywhere fighting amongst ourselves. What’s done is done. We’ll just have to see how this plays out.”
“Since when did you grow a set of balls?” the man called Astin asked the senator.
As he watched through the long camera lens, Max could see the redness creep up the woman’s neck. “I don’t
know who you are anymore,” she said to the man. Now Max clearly could see that she was sad as she turned her collar up and walked away.
Hart walked in the opposite direction towards his waiting car.
The third man simply stood on the steps looking morose.
“I do hope the news is good, Stanley,” Wayne Grayson said to his lawyer. “I grow weary of the incompetence of those I’ve tasked with important jobs.”
“At the moment, there is not much to tell, sir. Hart is warming up to his role as de facto head—”
“Don’t call him that,” Grayson snapped. “I am the head of this organization. There is no other. Hart is simply a caretaker.”
“Yes, sir.” The lawyer pulled on the French cuffs of his expensive shirt. “In that case, let me say that the search for the very dangerous American terrorist goes on. The thinking continues to be that she either is headed for Iraq or she is already there. Senator Kincaid is poised to act on the pipeline legislation as soon as you give the word.”
“Good.”
“Hart tells me the president has become very interested in our terrorist.”
“Oh?” Grayson sat up a little straighter. “Explain.”
“It seems he is very anxious to know everything about this woman’s background at the NSA, how she came under suspicion, and exactly what she was up to. He’s requested the full internal affairs report.”
“What internal affairs report?”
“The one Hart told the president existed when he asked what led the NSA to suspect her of nefarious activities.”
“He told the president what?” The vein stood out in Grayson’s forehead and his face was nearly purple.
“Apparently, the president called Hart on the carpet for not informing him directly of the Ramos woman’s terrorist designation. He demanded hourly updates from here on out and the name of the person who was savvy enough to suspect her of being a jihadist. Hart told him the tip came from an anonymous source directly to Internal Affairs, and that Internal Affairs then conducted an investigation. Now the president wants to see that report.”
“Of all the asinine…” Grayson pointed a bony finger at his lawyer. “We can’t get sidetracked now. What is Hart doing about it?”
“He’s having his man dummy up an internal affairs report to give the president.”
Grayson stroked his chin. “It might work. But it’s a hell of a chance.”
“If the president is as interested as he seems to be in this Ramos woman, it might work to your advantage, sir. After all, he might order more resources to search for her and take her out.”
“That’s one possibility,” Grayson said. “Let’s just hope you’re right.”
Still, he didn’t like that there were so many variables in play at once. Too many balls were up in the air and he could only hope that all of them were caught safely.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The café where Sedona arranged to meet Ahmed and Umar was within sight. If they could make it another two hundred yards, they finally could get off the street and she could stop feeling so completely exposed. In the three miles they walked, they saw close to a dozen patrols and narrowly escaped detection three times.
“That’s the place, up ahead on the right.”
“Okay,” Vaughn said. She surveyed their surroundings. The street was teeming with people. Merchants hawked their wares and beat up jalopies crawled along at a snail’s pace, dodging the pedestrians.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Lorraine commented, “the naked exposure of the deserted streets or the number of potential threats in a crowd like this.”
“I’ll take the empty streets any day,” Justine replied. Like the others, her head swiveled from side to side watching for anyone who might be dangerous.
“I wish Peter was here,” Sabastien said. “I do not like being the only male.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust us girls to protect you?” Sedona asked.
“No, no. It is not that. I have seen Vaughn Elliott in action. I am in good hands. It’s just—”
“Umar!” Sedona called. He was standing out on the curb, obviously waiting for her. She took a step forward, her hand raised in greeting. As she did, she heard the sound of hundreds of angels’ wings beating loudly in her ears. They sounded agitated. She had less than a fraction of a second to wonder why before a searing pain slammed her in the chest, knocking her off her feet. She blinked once, twice. The world spun in slow motion. She felt the weight of Vaughn’s body as she landed on top of her, covering her like a blanket. Vaughn was gesturing, saying something. Sedona tried but failed to make out the words. Then everything went silent.
Vaughn saw the muzzle flash as Sedona stepped forward. She pinpointed the location—just behind the very frightened looking man pointing in Sedona’s direction. Although her head told her to take out the shooter, her heart had her lunging for Sedona, to get her out of harm’s way. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the shooter’s head snap back. She registered the fact that the shot came from a different vantage point. Then she saw Peter running toward the frightened man, whose shirt and face were covered with blood.
Sedona’s eyes rolled back in her head and Vaughn’s heart stuttered. “No. Damn it, you are not going to die on me here.” Her voice shook with emotion. She put her hand over Sedona’s chest. When she pulled it away, it was free of blood. “Thank you, God. Thank you.”
She turned her head. Lorraine was to her right, covering her with an M4. “Get Peter. We have to get out of here. Now!”
Justine kneeled to Vaughn’s left. “Let me have a look.”
“I think her vest caught it,” Vaughn said. “We’re sitting ducks out here. We have to go.”
Justine gestured toward the street with her head. “I think Peter’s commandeering our ride.” A vehicle came screeching to a halt next to them a second later.
“Help me load her,” Vaughn said to Justine. “Lorraine, cover us.”
“Got it.” Lorraine’s weapon was in the ready position, her finger poised over the trigger.
Vaughn grabbed Sedona’s unconscious form under the arms while Justine took her ankles. Together they lifted her into the back of a Hummer. “Everybody in,” she yelled. “Sabastien?”
“Here,” he squeaked.
“Justine, Lorraine, Peter?”
“Everyone’s accounted for,” Peter said.
“Step on it.” Vaughn said, as Lorraine closed her and Sedona in. Vaughn was lying on her side, her hand stroking Sedona’s cheek. “Hang in there, baby,” she whispered in her ear, although she knew Sedona couldn’t hear her.
“Let me evaluate her,” Justine said, climbing over the seat and into the back with Vaughn.
Vaughn closed her eyes. She didn’t want to let go. She felt Justine’s hand cover hers and squeeze.
“I promise, I’ll take good care of her, Vaughn. Please, let me have a look. We need to be sure she isn’t hit anywhere else.”
Vaughn nodded. She leaned over one last time, her lips hovering over Sedona’s. “I’m right here. Don’t you get any funny ideas…”
Vaughn yielded her place to Justine and, as she did so, she noticed the two extra passengers. One of them was the frightened man from in front of the café—the man who pointed out Sedona to the shooter. She vaulted over the seat and grabbed him by the throat. His eyes bulged out of his head. “Who the fuck are you?” She shook him.
“Easy,” Lorraine said, tapping her arm. “Looks like he wasn’t a willing participant.” She tilted her head in the direction of the other Iraqi. “This is Sedona’s friend Ahmed. The man you’re choking is his cousin, Umar.”
Vaughn looked from one of them to the other. Ahmed was crying. In very broken English, he asked, “Is will Sedona go good?” He rocked back and forth in his seat.
Vaughn struggled against the urge to squeeze the life out of Umar. He was making gurgling noises in his throat. Just a little more pressure…
“Vaughn!” Lorraine comma
nded. “That won’t change anything.”
A tear leaked out of Vaughn’s eye and trickled down her cheek. She loosened her grip and let her hand drop into her lap.
From the driver’s seat, Peter said, “The shooter was American. Private contractor from what I could tell. Military-trained, though.”
“I want to know—” Vaughn paused to get the shakiness out of her voice. “I want to know why these two are here. He”—she indicated Umar—“sold her out.” Vaughn glanced over the seat to see what Justine was doing. She could see that Justine had removed Sedona’s vest and her shirt was open. Vaughn’s breath caught. She turned back around.
Peter addressed Ahmed and Umar in Arabic. “Explain yourselves. Because right now, I’m the only thing standing between you and that woman who wants to kill you.”
“We meant Sedona no harm,” Ahmed said. The words tumbled out over each other. “She is our friend. These men—they are very bad. They overheard us rejoicing about seeing our good friend Sedona again. They pointed guns at us and threatened us with death if we did not talk. They wanted to know what we knew about Sedona. When they found out that we were meeting her, they took Umar hostage and forced him to identify her.”
“What are they saying?” Vaughn asked.
Peter relayed the conversation.
“Are they telling the truth?”
Ahmed and Umar nodded vigorously in unison.
“You understand English?”
“A little.”
“What did those men tell you about why they were looking for Sedona?”
“Money,” Ahmed said. “B-Boun…” He let his hand fall in a helpless gesture.
“Bounty?” Lorraine supplied.
Ahmed nodded. He looked miserable.
“They put a price on her head?” Vaughn asked. The anger flashed red-hot in her.
Umar reached into his pocket. As he did so, Vaughn pointed her pistol in his face. He screamed, his fingers frozen halfway out of his pants.
Vaughn reached in for him and pulled out a piece of paper. She lowered her weapon and scanned the writing.