Foreign and Domestic_A Jack Cameron Novel

by Scott Blade

  Graine said, “He isn’t really going to go through with it. Rowley knows they’ll kill her anyway.”

  Cord said, “No. He will.”

  Graine looked over at Cord’s profile for a brief second and then back down his sights at Lane. He said, “What do you mean?”

  “He’ll do it. If he thinks it’ll save Raggie, he’ll do it.”

  Lucas said, “Enough. Where da hell is she?”

  Lane said, “Shoot me. I won’t tell you. And you won’t get out of here alive.”

  Lucas walked forward, farther from Cord and Graine. And farther from the protection of the SUV. There was no going back now. If there were guys stationed in the house, they had Lucas dead to rights. Cameron looked up at the windows and the second level where the roof was missing. He squinted his eyes and searched for any sign of a gun or movement. There was nothing. Either these guys were really, really good, or there was no one in the house.

  He focused his vision on one hole in the upper wall. It was the perfect position for a sniper—up higher than the street, good cover. A sniper could snap out of cover and take a shot and then snap right back in.

  He glanced back at the agents. Cord was moving forward now as well. He followed closer to Lucas’s position, but he stepped further out to the left. He kept his position wide from Lucas. This seemed logical to Cameron and was most likely some kind of Secret Service tactic.

  The only one who seemed out of place was Graine. He trailed behind Lucas like a shadow, staying ten feet back from him. Cameron closed his eyes and imagined the different ways this could play out if they started shooting. He calculated two ways, then three, then four—and in none of them did Graine’s positioning make any sense.

  He thought back to Li and then to Cord. Weston had told him that Cord was looking for him. What were the odds that Cameron would check his email in that very same twenty-four-hour period? The rain had caused him to go indoors. Seattle’s less than lenient position on loitering had forced him to go into an Internet café. Opportunity had forced him to check his email. John Lane’s history with Jack Reacher had caused Cord to seek him out.

  One thing led to another. Cause and effect.

  But what had caused Cord to know about Jack Reacher?

  Cameron looked back at Cord and said, “How did you know to find me?”

  Cord said, “What?”

  “How did you know to find me? How did you even know about me?”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  Cameron turned back and stared at them, his hands down by his sides. He said, “How did you find me? You see, Jack doesn’t even know about me. He doesn’t know to look for me. How’d you know?”

  Cord said, “We searched for Jack’s family when we couldn’t find him. And in his records, there was a file on your mother.”

  Cameron said, “Even so. How did you know about me? I’m not in those files. I know that. My mother never told anyone who my father was. Not until she died. So how did you find me?”

  “This isn’t the time!” said Lucas.

  Cord said, “I told you. We looked for Jack and then found you by accident.”

  “But how did you know to look for Jack?”

  “Graine.”

  “He’s the one who found me, right?” Cameron asked.

  Cord nodded and said, “Yeah. He’s the cop.”

  Cameron looked at Graine and said, “How did you know to look for Jack?”

  Graine said, “Because Lane revealed himself. Simple background checks of his suspected activities since he got out of prison showed he’d been searching for his brother’s killer.”

  “And how’d you find me?”

  “I stumbled upon you. Your mother was involved with Jack. Her records showed that she’d died, and you were left alone. You had no father. Then I saw your picture. You’re the spitting image of him. So I put two and two together.”

  Lucas asked, “What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

  “So you stumbled upon Lane’s obsession with finding Jack?” Cameron asked.

  Graine nodded from behind the stock of his MP5.

  “And then you stumbled upon my mother?”

  Graine nodded.

  Cameron asked, “And then you stumbled upon me?”

  This time, Graine said nothing.

  Cord said, “What’re you implying?” He began to lower his weapon just enough for Cameron to see his whole face uncovered.

  Cameron said, “I’ve known two types of people my whole life more than any other—soldiers and cops. I grew up with cops. And I never met a cop who was that lucky.”

  Graine stayed quiet and looked through his thick glasses at Cameron.

  Cord said, “And?”

  Cameron said, “So either you’re the luckiest cop that ever lived, or you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes. But I don’t think it’s either. Because if you were so good or so lucky, then why’re you on the sidelines, babysitting the mother? Why not be out there looking?

  “You found me. You told Cord about me in less than twenty-four hours of even knowing I existed. Of even knowing that Jack existed. I bet you told them within an hour. Less even. I bet you all found out about Raggie at the same time and then all of a sudden you came up with this harebrained scheme.”

  Cord looked back over his shoulder at Graine. Lucas remained trained on Lane.

  Cameron said, “These guys definitely didn’t have any faith in you. If they did, then why not let you off the leash? Why not go out there and find Raggie yourself?”

  Graine stayed quiet.

  Cameron said, “Because I think you aren’t a good cop. I think you weren’t good enough for Rowley to put you on his Secret Service detail. And those glasses…I don’t know much about glasses, but I’ve never seen glasses that thick on a person before unless he was virtually blind. Yet you were just driving, which isn’t a big deal in itself because plenty of people with strong prescription glasses drive. But right now, you’re looking down your MP5 the right way. You’re aimed at Lane, who’s a good thirty yards away from you. And you made it as detective in some department in Missouri. I don’t doubt that there are cops with bad vision, especially in some small town out in Missouri, but they don’t make detective very easy. To be a detective, you must be able to detect.

  “And I doubt your bad eyesight came on overnight. No way. They test you before letting you have a gun. And the Army would’ve tested you before that. So your vision might be bad, but I don’t think it’s that bad. And I don’t think you were so unlucky for your whole career and then, all of a sudden, lucky enough to stumble upon all of those clues. Not by yourself.”

  Cord said, “Graine, what the hell is this?”

  Cameron said, “And one more thing. How did Raggie get taken in the first place?”

  Lucas started to shift his footing. His face twitched, and his eyes closed tightly. An expression that Cameron had never seen before came over his face. It must’ve been utter betrayal or intense disappointment or both. Cameron wasn’t sure. Lucas swiveled and spun one hundred and eighty degrees faster than most young men could have. His MP5 was now trained on Graine.

  Lucas said, “How could you?”

  “Guys! I don’t know what he’s talking about! Come on!” Graine said.

  Cameron said, “A fourteen-year-old girl who surfs and was attacked by a shark is a girl with a lot caution and street smarts. She’s not going to be very trusting. No way would she have been tricked into getting into the car of a stranger. No way. Everyone knows it—even her mother, a distrustful person by nature. I don’t think she let her Raggie go out alone to meet her friends. I think she thought that you would go after her. That you’d watch over her like you always had. But this time, Raggie didn’t come back. So what’d you tell Mrs. Rowley?”

  Graine stayed quiet.

  Cameron asked again, “What did you tell her? Did you tell her you were sorry? Did you blame it on your bad eyes? On your incompetence? These people trusted you with the
ir lives, but you aren’t obligated to protect them, are you? Because you’re not Secret Service. You aren’t good enough to be an agent. You’re not like Cord. And you’re not like Lucas. That’s why you betrayed them, isn’t it?”

  Graine kept his gun pointed straight ahead. He didn’t shift the target from Lane. He let go of the underside of the barrel with his left hand and lifted his hand slowly back to his face. Not too fast—he didn’t want Cord or Lucas to pull their triggers. He touched the frame of his glasses and blinked a few times as if straining to stare through the thick lenses. Then he jerked them off and tossed the glasses into the grass. They landed three yards from Cameron.

  Cameron looked at Graine. He thought, Stop! Drop! and Roll!

  Graine said, “You guys always got all the good shit. Better ranks! Better pay! Better lives! I was always the odd man out.”

  “No! Why?” Cord said.

  “Listen to me! I’m telling you!”

  Lucas said, “But you’re one of us!”

  “Do you know how much I make a year?”

  Cord asked, “So this is about money?”

  “It’s a lot of money. A huge bonus with you included.”

  Cord said, “You were never going to let us get her back?”

  “Of course I was. I’m not a monster. It had to be believable, but Raggie will be fine. But not that bastard president!”

  “Why? What did he do?” Cord asked.

  “He’s out there campaigning and giving speeches while guys like us are dying and doing the heavy lifting. Isn’t that a good enough reason? Does that satisfy you?”

  Cord said nothing.

  Graine said, “But really, for me, I guess it’s the money—or maybe the chance to do something. I don’t care about the politics. Just the money. I’m old, and an old man deserves at least a taste of the life that should’ve been his when he was young.”

  Lucas couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the trigger on his gun, but nothing happened. It wasn’t like in the movies where a guy pulled a trigger and there was an audible click. There was no click.

  The MP5s that Graine had handed over to them had been fully loaded. That wasn’t the issue. If you wanted to trick someone into thinking their gun was loaded and operable, you didn’t take the bullets out. As anyone with gun experience knows, a gun without bullets is easily detectable. An unloaded gun is much lighter.

  Graine said, “Sorry, old friend. I took out the firing pin.”

  Cord lowered his MP5 and tossed it to the ground.

  Graine pointed his gun at both of them, waving it back and forth between the two.

  Cameron had no idea what feelings or thoughts were going through Lucas’s head, but he imagined they weren’t good. And he felt stupid for not seeing this earlier.

  Lucas said, “Let Raggie go. She’s not a part of this.”

  Graine said, “That’s not up to me.” He set the selector on the MP5 to semi-auto and pulled the trigger in two quick successions. Pop! Pop! Two bullets fired from the gun. The first hit Lucas in the neck.

  Cameron watched as a red mist burst from the back of his neck, a cloud of blood and tissue and veins.

  The second bullet would’ve been a dead on headshot, but because Lucas’s head whipped back as it hit, and it ended up hitting the right side of his face. Another misty red explosion burst into the air.

  Cameron didn’t Stop! Drop, or Roll!

  Chapter 35

  INSTEAD OF REACTING LIKE HE WAS ON FIRE, as Cameron had been trained to do as a kid, he bent his knees and glanced quickly at Cord.

  Cord was a good agent with excellent training. He was prepared to die for his leader. That was a reality hammered into each Secret Service agent long before they were allowed within a hundred yards of the president. And maybe Graine had been rejected because of his unwillingness to do just that. Cameron remembered how much Li had wanted to become an agent. He remembered how important it was to her—like life or death. Missing the test had been the end of her world. No question about it.

  The only conflict of interest that would ever affect Cord’s judgment was deciding between whether to take a bullet for the president or for a member of his old Special Forces team. Taking a bullet for Rowley wasn’t a question. And taking a bullet for Rowley’s daughter wasn’t a question. But would Cord take a bullet for Cameron? That was something Cameron didn’t want to learn the answer to, but he got the answer anyway when Cord did take a bullet.

  Graine shot Lucas, who was now on the ground fifteen feet from Cameron. His body twitched, and he gagged. Blood pooled under his body like a spilled pot of tomato soup. After the two shots at Lucas, Graine swiveled and aimed in Cord’s direction. Graine had fooled both of his friends, and he’d faked his intentions and his abilities.

  Cord didn’t use his mind to make his split-second decision—he did it instinctively. His reaction had a mind of its own. It was probably a maneuver he had tucked away in the large deck of maneuvers he’d trained his body to do in all likely scenarios that he might encounter protecting the president. He knew that his MP5 was most likely as useless as Lucas’s had been, so he went for the SIG Sauer holstered on his hip. But rather than drawing it quickly and firing at Graine, he turned toward Cameron and threw the gun at him.

  Graine had left the MP5 in semi-auto function so he had to pull the trigger every time to fire a bullet. He pulled three times in rapid succession. Pop! Pop! Pop! The spent brass flew out of the ejection port and bounced off the ground. The bullets flew in Cord’s direction.

  Cameron made a dive toward the gun as it overshot him and flew past toward the tree stump.

  The first bullet caught Cord in the shoulder. The second one missed him. And the third nailed him in the chest. His vest caught it, but it still hurt like hell. He grabbed his chest as soon as he hit the ground, forgetting at first about the first one that had actually penetrated his upper shoulder until the pain hit him.

  Cameron rolled, grabbed the SIG Sauer, and scrambled to the tree.

  Graine fired after him but missed on purpose. He didn’t want to damage him. He hadn’t been paid yet for his capture.

  Lane shouted, “Don’t shoot him!”

  Graine said, “I know! I know!”

  Cameron knew that Lane hadn’t brought his guys, or at least they weren’t in the house. The whole thing had been a setup to make it look like they were going to be ambushed from the front when the actual plan had been for Graine to ambush them from behind. If there had been guys in the house, they would’ve come out blasting by this point. Of course, this didn’t mean that Lane’s backup wasn’t somewhere nearby. If so, they’d certainly heard the gunshots. If Cameron was going to get away, he’d better not wait any longer.

  He hugged close to the back of the large tree stump. He didn’t look back but wondered if Cord had survived Graine’s bullets.

  Graine said, “Cameron! Come out!”

  Cameron stayed quiet and released the clip from the SIG Sauer, checked it. It was fully loaded—thirteen rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. Fourteen rounds from a handgun versus an MP5 plus Graine’s sidearm. He didn’t know what the second weapon was, but he was sure it was something reliable. Probably a Glock. And Lane probably had a gun somewhere within reaching distance. And then there were Lane’s guys, who were probably on their way and carrying who knows what kind of guns.

  The odds were not good, and they’d only get worse.

  Graine said, “Come out, Cameron! There’s nowhere to go!”

  Lane said, “Wait!”

  Cameron couldn’t see what they were doing, but he knew.

  Graine said, “Come out! You’ve got ten seconds.” And then he started to count out loud. “Three. Four. Five.”

  Cameron slid down the tree and peeked out over his right shoulder, a quick glance at the drive up to the house and then back. He saw Lane holding a gun about forty yards away, moving parallel to Cameron’s position and trying to get a look at him from the north. Graine was exactly where
Cameron had feared he’d be. He stood over Cord, his MP5 pointed down at him.

  “Seven. Eight. Nine.”

  On ten, Graine did nothing. He paused and waited till what would’ve been eleven, and then on twelve, he pulled the trigger. Just once. One quick gunshot. He didn’t even look down at Cord. He kept his eyes on Cameron’s position.

  The bullet plugged another area on Cord’s bulletproof vest, and Cord screamed in agony. He didn’t speak, just wailed in pain.

  Graine said, “Okay! Five seconds this time!”

  Cameron closed his eyes. Thought about what he’d have to do to get to Cord.

  Lean out over his right side. Take aim. Fire two shots. Hit Graine.

  Two rounds to the center mass was what he wanted because that was the most likely target he could hit with only one second of aiming. Then he’d pull back to the tree, wait one second longer for Lane to return fire. Maybe a second and a half, depending on how good Lane was with a gun. And Cameron was pretty sure he was plenty good. If Rowley’s description of Lane was any indicator of his ability, then the best case scenario was that Lane had been an average special ops shooter ten years ago. If he was out of practice, it meant that now he’d most likely be slightly better than poor because shooting is a perishable skill. However, even with deteriorated skills, he’d still be able to hit a target as big as Cameron at that range.

  Worst-case scenario was that Lane had picked up right where he left off after prison and had spent the last year practicing. Maybe he’d even improved. That meant Cameron could be in real trouble getting into a firefight with an ex-Special Forces soldier hell-bent on killing Cameron’s father, someone he just happened to look like.

  Graine started to count again. “Five. Four.”

  And suddenly, Cameron’s odds got significantly worse because a Range Rover came barreling around the corner and down the street, its high beams bright and pointed straight at Cameron. He reached up with his hand to block out the light. He was sure that the occupants in the truck weren’t on his side. Lowering his gun, he stayed tucked behind the tree.