Red Cell Seven

by Stephen Frey

  Dorn didn’t give a damn about Wilson Travers. That was obvious. He probably didn’t even remember who Travers was. “What are you going to do about that other original of the Executive Order?” It was the first time Baxter could remember intentionally leaving off the word “sir” at the end of a question addressed to Dorn. Maybe taking this job had been a mistake after all.

  “You’re going to find it for me, Stewart, and you’re going to find it for me quickly.” Dorn raised an eyebrow as he stared steadily at Baxter. “If you don’t, I’ll fire you.” He pointed at his chief of staff. “One way or the other I will crush Red Cell Seven. Do you understand me?”

  “ROGER AND I shouldn’t have cut you loose the way we did, Shane. I’m sorry for that.”

  Maddux nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Bill, very glad. But why’d you do it? Why’d you tell the president I was behind the assassination attempt?” Maddux had explained to Bill his connection to Stewart Baxter, and therefore how he knew what Bill had divulged to Dorn. “I understand the cover story internally, for the rest of Red Cell Seven, but why give me away to the president? Why make me public enemy number one in the Oval Office?”

  “When Roger found out you were the one behind sailing those LNG tankers at Boston and Virginia, he lost it. In the forty years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him that angry before at anyone. He hated it that you’d gone outside the chain of command. He felt you’d put Red Cell Seven in a terrible position. And he believed that killing half a million people to make a point was wrong, even if your intention was strategically correct. He felt we had to cut you loose, because if it ever came out that you were the one behind those plots, RCS might have been finished despite Nixon’s Executive Order. He figured the chief justice of the United States might not care about an Executive Order at that point. But he thought if we could prove you’d gone rogue, we’d be okay.” Bill paused. “Red Cell Seven and the safety of the United States was everything to him, Shane. I think you were second, even in front of Nancy on some level. But it was a distant second.”

  “I know. And it should have been that way. For us, loyalty to country must come before any personal fidelity. But why did you give me away to Dorn?” Maddux asked.

  “I had to trade something sensitive in order to smoke the president out. He was making all this noise about getting behind Red Cell Seven. I was trying to build a bridge to get at the truth. The same way you were doing with Stewart Baxter. As it turns out, we were right for trying to assassinate Dorn. He was lying about his change of heart. He really was trying to shut down RCS. As far as I know, he still is.”

  “Fine. But you had people looking for me,” Maddux said. “You had agents who were ordered to shoot me on sight. You weren’t just trading information. You were trying to eliminate me.”

  Bill swallowed hard. For all he knew, Maddux was considering the ultimate punishment here. Admitting that he’d put agents on Maddux’s trail might hammer that last nail in the coffin and push Maddux over the edge. On the other hand, Maddux respected the truth.

  “Did you really think they’d find me?” Maddux demanded.

  “No.” It seemed like the thing to say. And they probably wouldn’t have. “What happened to Roger?” Bill asked quickly, trying to change the subject.

  “I killed him. Then I drove his body back to Georgetown.” Maddux’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Did Dorn have Roger’s wife killed?”

  “I don’t know for sure. All I do know is that Nancy’s still missing, and I doubt she’ll ever be found.”

  “Bastard,” Maddux whispered. “That’s as good a reason as any to try again.”

  Bill understood exactly what Maddux meant by that. He wanted to try again to assassinate Dorn. “What now, Shane? Where do we go from here?”

  “You take Roger’s place,” Maddux said firmly. “You’re the natural choice to become the next leader of Red Cell Seven. And I become RCS’s Number Two.” He laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.” He laughed a little louder. “Not yet, anyway.”

  A wave of relief surged through Bill’s body. Not until now did he realize how much he’d been worried about exactly that possibility. “We’ve never had a Number Two before.”

  “Well, we do now.” Maddux gestured at Bill. “You’ll have to resign from First Manhattan. You won’t have time to lead it and RCS. Besides, you basically have to go underground at this point. Dorn and Baxter will be trying to find you. They know we’ll be coming after them, so they’ll try to get us first. Us and the Order,” Maddux added. “Bottom line, you would have had to resign from First Manhattan anyway. They would have made certain of that, I’m sure.”

  Maddux was probably right, Bill figured ruefully. “Have you spoken to Baxter again?”

  “Only long enough to tell him that I have the Executive Order and that he and Dorn will never get it.”

  Another wave of relief rolled through Bill. “Thank God,” he whispered. Maddux wouldn’t lie about having the Order.

  “I want this to work,” Maddux said evenly. “We’ve had our differences, Bill, but I think we’re the only ones who can completely trust each other in the long run. Now, anyway. I think we finally get each other.”

  Strangely, Bill understood exactly what Maddux meant.

  “The safety and security of the United States is the most important thing to both of us,” Maddux continued. “Not many men can say that and truly mean it.”

  “It’s true,” Bill agreed. “So what do we do with the last Executive Order, Shane? The physical document, I mean. Dorn will be using every means available to him to find it. If he does, he’ll have the ability to destroy us.”

  “I’ll keep it,” Maddux said firmly.

  “I’ll need to know where it is.”

  Maddux nodded. “Okay, but only on one condition.”

  “What?”

  Maddux pushed open the metal door of the cell they were standing in front of. Its rusty hinges squeaked. “You prove to me you’re strong enough to be the leader of Red Cell Seven.”

  “How?” Bill asked, following Maddux inside the cell. “What do I have to do?”

  “This is Kaashif,” Maddux said, pointing at the young man who was hanging from the ceiling of the stone-walled room by his wrists.

  “This is the one?”

  “Yes,” Maddux confirmed.

  Bill and Kaashif stared at each other for several moments before Bill finally spoke up. “We stopped you, you little bastard, you and all of those people who worked for you. They’re all in custody or dead now. I want you to know that.”

  “There are more,” Kaashif replied, “many more. There will always be more. I want you to know that.”

  Maddux pulled out the Winchester pistol he’d shot Karen with. “I want you to carry out Kaashif’s execution,” he said, holding the gun out for Bill, handle first. “The sentence has been passed. He must die.”

  Bill gazed down at the gun for a long time. Finally, he reached out, took it from Maddux, pressed the barrel to Kaashif’s head as the young man began to scream—and fired. “There,” he said calmly when it was over and Kaashif hung limply from the rope.

  Maddux nodded appreciatively. “I need to ask you one more question.”

  “Go.”

  “What did you think about me sailing those LNG tankers at Boston and Virginia?”

  I think you were out of your mind. “I understood.” Of course there was no way he could say what he was thinking. That would have been suicide. “It was a great act of patriotism.” He had to play the game.

  Maddux nodded again. “Good. Now we get to work.” He glanced at Kaashif then back at Bill. “I have information that indicates that there is a plot in process that will make the Holiday Mall Attacks seem minor. Obviously, we need to get on it.”

  Bill shut his eyes tightly. Would the bloodshed never end?
>
  TRAVERS STOOD on the very top of Mount Gannett’s narrow peak, a thousand feet above Bonny Pass. The weather had been good the last few days, and he’d made the climb with relative ease. It was frigid up here, but the view was incredible. It felt like he was literally on top of the world—which was far from the truth. He’d never been lower.

  He’d trusted his instincts. He’d allied himself with Stewart Baxter and President Dorn because that was what his instincts had told him to do. But he’d been wrong. Hadn’t he?

  He’d come up here to get away from everyone and everything and try to decide. And he’d come up here to conquer the mountain. He hated being so close to a great challenge and not completing it. At this point he’d conquered the challenge—but not the decision.

  His cell phone rang, and he chuckled wryly as he pulled it out. He had reception all the way up here. In a way, that was kind of disappointing.

  He gazed at the number flashing on the tiny screen. What choice did he have at this point? “Hello.”

  “Hello, Major. You know who this is, don’t you?”

  It was Stewart Baxter. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Come in from the cold, Major.”

  Travers thought about the irony of the remark as he looked out over the snow-laden landscape from the top of the mountain. Baxter couldn’t know where Travers was. No one did. Baxter was referring to “cold” in the sense of a spy coming home.

  “This is silly, Major. You did the right thing. And there’s still more to do.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t come in,” Baxter sputtered angrily, “I’ll assume you’re staying with them, and then you’ll be an outlaw. We’re going to destroy that organization, Major. It won’t be good to be on their side when we do.”

  Travers glanced at the screen on his phone. It was ringing again. “I’ll call you back.” He switched lines quickly. “Hello.”

  “Major.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who this is?”

  It was Bill Jensen. “Yes.”

  “Have you made your decision yet?”

  “MR. JENSEN.”

  Troy and Jack looked up at the same time, but Troy quickly realized that the doctor was speaking to Jack.

  “Yes?” Jack asked.

  “You’d better come with me.”

  Jack rose unsteadily from the couch. “Is she…I mean, should I—”

  “Just come with me,” the doctor said gently but firmly. “And please hurry.”

  Troy watched as Jack followed the doctor into Karen’s room and the door shut behind him. That hadn’t sounded good. He kissed Little Jack on the forehead and carefully handed the baby back to Cheryl. “Could you take him for a few minutes, Mom?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ve got to make a phone call.”

  “Fine, but I think you better hurry, son. I’m afraid your brother’s going to need you in a few minutes.”

  Troy quickly found a quiet corner of the floor not too far away, pressed the digits on his cell phone, and listened impatiently to the ring. Watching Jack go into Karen’s room had been awful. Life was too good and short not to live it to the fullest every day with the people you wanted to live it with.

  “Hello.”

  “Jennie?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Troy.”

  “Hey there, I’m so glad you called. I was worried you weren’t going to when—”

  “Can we have that lunch we talked about?”

  She laughed softly in his ear. “Of course, but let’s make it dinner instead.”

  “Great, I—” Troy stopped when he happened to look up. Jack was standing right in front of him. “I’ll call you right back, Jennie.” He couldn’t tell from Jack’s expression what was going on. He hoped it wasn’t what he feared. “What happened, Jack?”

  Jack swallowed hard and then broke into a relieved smile. “Karen’s gonna be all right. She just opened her eyes. The doctors wanted a few minutes with her.”

  The brothers grabbed each other and hugged hard.

  “That’s awesome,” Troy murmured when they finally stepped back from the embrace. “Just awesome.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Jack agreed, shutting his eyes for a few moments as the relief washed over him. “Thanks for being here, Troy. I can’t tell you how much it helped me to know you were.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m going to marry her as soon as she’s well.”

  Troy smiled. “Good for you, Jack. Good for her, too. She’s a lucky young woman.”

  Jack grabbed Troy and hugged him again, even harder this time. “You’re going to be my best man.”

  “I’d better.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  TO THE PEOPLE who have helped so much with my writing career and have always been willing to listen: Cynthia Manson, Kevin Smith, Kevin “Big Sky” Erdman, Matt Malone, Pat Lynch, Andy and Chris Brusman, Barbara Fertig, Steve Watson, Jeff Faville, Walter Frey, Mike Pocalyko, Jack Wallace, James Abt, Jeanette Follo, Louise Burke, Peter Borland, Mark Tavani, Marvin Bush, Scott Andrews, Dr. Kurt Butler, and Baron Stewart.

  Specifically, to the Amazon team that I’ve worked with very closely over the past few years, I couldn’t possibly have asked for more. It has been a tremendous experience. Thank you again: Andy Bartlett, Jeff Belle, Jacque Ben-Zekry, Daphne Durham, Terry Goodman, Victoria Griffith, Larry Kirshbaum, Danielle Marshall, and Alan Turkus.

  And to my daughters, Christina, Ashley, and Gabriella—I love all three of you so much.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo by Diana Frey, 2008

  STEPHEN FREY has spent twenty-five years working in investment banking and private equity at firms including J.P. Morgan & Company in New York City and Winston Partners in Arlington, Virginia. He is the author of eighteen novels, including the first book about Red Cell Seven, Arctic Fire. He lives in Leesburg, Virginia, where he writes full-time.