by Rebecca York
Most of them were only there to confuse anyone who managed to break into the room. Only one held anything of importance.
Make that of vital importance. He walked to the row of boxes, touching them lovingly in the ritual he’d developed. He thought of it as a way of insuring the success of his mission, but he had another purpose as well. If anyone was going to try and find his treasure by checking for traces of the oil from his fingers, they still wouldn’t know which drawer was the right one.
But he did.
It was the one labeled number twenty-one. Three times seven. A magic number. Third row down, first on the left.
Not that he believed in magic, of course, but he knew there must be something to the old ways. And he was willing to use anything he could to insure his success.
He opened the drawer and peered in at the metal box. A vessel that held the seeds of destruction of the U.S. Congress and much of Washington, D.C. Chosen men would deliver it. They would die, but they would be martyrs in the cause of righteousness.
He murmured a few lines from the Twenty-third Psalm. Of course God wouldn’t protect those men on earth, but he would give them a special place in heaven for their sacrifice.
And when Wade made the ultimate sacrifice himself, they would be waiting to greet him. And they would thank him for what he had done for them.
***
Morgan turned to Jack, her mouth so dry that she could barely speak. “Are you saying you’re sorry you made love to me?”
She saw a quick succession of expressions cross his face. Denial. Doubt. Regret.
He dragged in a breath and let it out. “Part of me is angry at myself for giving in to temptation.”
“And the other part?”
“We needed something from each other.”
She’d had her own doubts. Now she wanted to say that making love had been the beginning of something, not the end. But she wasn’t sure how to make him believe it.
Jack shifted toward her. “I’m not prime relationship material.”
“What are you?”
“A hard-bitten former Navy SEAL who’s lost his edge.”
She’d been angry with him when she came upstairs. Now she was quick to defend him. “Lost your edge? Of course not.”
“I let Wade Trainer figure out I was a ringer.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“Whose fault would it be? I was the man who infiltrated his camp.”
“Why don’t you blame that Deep Throat guy for dishing out an assignment you couldn’t possibly fulfill?”
He ignored the first part of the question and focused on the second part. “I could have done it if I’d had more time.”
“You looked through his computer?”
He hesitated.
“Did you or didn’t you?”
“I’m not sure.” He swallowed hard. “I think someone hit me over the head, and I lost a piece of my memory.”
“What piece?”
“Whatever happened just before I woke up in the interrogation room.”
That was interesting information that she wanted to pursue, but Jack didn’t let her.
“The point is, I got caught. And in the process I put you in great danger.”
“And you got me out of it.”
“With help from Shane and Max. And as we pointed out downstairs, you’re not safe until we find out what he’s doing and end his operation.”
Before she could answer, he plowed ahead. “And there’s something else you don’t know about me. My SEAL team was on a mission in Afghanistan, looking for insurgents in a village in the hills. I’m the only man who came back.”
She felt a shudder go through her. Maybe he misinterpreted the reaction, because his face darkened. Rolling toward him, she slung her arm across his chest and held tight to him.
“I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible for you.”
He lay without moving as she stroked her hands through his hair and over his back.
“What happened to them wasn’t your fault.”
“I try to tell myself that.”
The explanation helped her understand him better. Coming back alive from Afghanistan was probably the reason he’d taken that risky assignment, infiltrating Wade Trainer’s militia.
“I understand better than you think,” she murmured.
“Oh yeah?”
“Something similar happened to me. It didn’t come out as badly—no fault of my own.”
He was staring intensely at her as she sat up, dragging the sheet with her to cover her breasts.
“A lot of people who teach psychology are also in clinical practice,” she said, almost wishing she hadn’t introduced the subject. “I’m not.”
“And you’re going to tell me why.”
“I was doing an internship at Springfield State Hospital. One of my patients was a severely depressed man. I thought I was handling him correctly. He hanged himself in the shower.”
Jack winced. “That must have been hard to deal with. But you said it came out okay. I guess he didn’t die.”
“That’s right. But not because I saved him. An orderly found him and cut him down in time.” She kept her gaze fixed on him. “After that I didn’t take a chance on working with patients again.”
He nodded.
She’d wanted him to understand that she “got it” about Afghanistan. Message sent, she changed the subject.
“What are your plans for Trainer?”
He breathed out a little sigh, probably relieved that she’d switched back to business. “We have to find his moneyman and make him tell us what Trainer’s up to.”
“Then let’s work together to find the guy.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “You?”
“Yes. I’m trained in research. There’s no reason I can’t apply my research methods to helping find your guy.”
He thought about that, then nodded. “Okay. We could use the extra help.”
Was he going to give her real work? Or was he trying to keep her busy while she was confined here? She guessed she’d find out soon enough. And find out where the two of them really stood. She felt like Jack could walk away from her at any time. At least anytime after they solved the Wade Trainer problem. Meanwhile, she knew they were stuck with each other. Maybe that gave her an advantage—force him to deal with her.
She wanted to ask what he was thinking; instead she made another suggestion. “You said you didn’t remember what had happened before you ended up in Trainer’s torture chamber. Maybe I could help you recover those memories.”
“How?”
Before she could answer, a car pulled up outside the house, and they both jumped.
Jack reached for the gun he’d set on the bedside table. Naked, he leaped out of bed and ran to the window.
***
Wade knew he had to solve the Jack Barnes problem as soon as possible. Immediately after hanging up with Mr. Money he picked up the phone to call the Park Police guy, Davenport.
He was prepared to leave a message, but he got the man on his cell phone.
“This is Wade Trainer.”
“Long time no see.”
“I’ve been busy with that home security business I told you about.”
“Right. How’s it going?”
“I’ve got a little problem. A guy I hired might be stealing from me. I’m hoping you can run his prints for me.”
Davenport hesitated for a moment.
“I’m willing to pay for the service,” Wade said. “How does five hundred sound?”
“Sounds pretty good,” Davenport allowed.
“I can bring you some stuff with his prints. Where do you want to meet?”
“At that bar we used to go to up on Capitol Hill.”
“Perfect. Can we do it tonight?”
“Yeah.”
***
Jack turned from the window, raising his arm against the glare of the setting sun.
“Nothing to worry about,�
� he reported. “It’s Shane and Max coming back. With groceries.”
After returning to the center of the room, he found his clothing where they’d dropped it and started getting dressed.
“I’ll go down,” he said.
And pretend this never even happened? She didn’t say that out loud, of course.
She wasn’t quite so comfortable walking around in front of him with no clothes on, and he must have realized that because he turned away from her as he pulled on his pants. She scooped up her clothing and carried it into the bathroom where she could look at her face in the mirror the way she had when she’d woken up. Did her eyes look brighter? She hoped not, because she didn’t want any comments from Shane or Max.
Well, they probably weren’t going to make any teasing remarks, even if they realized what she and Jack had been doing.
She heard him descend the stairs and was grateful that they weren’t going to show up together like they’d just climbed out of the same bed. While she was alone she took the time for a quick wash, then dressed, brushed her hair, and put on a little bit of blusher that she found in the bathroom.
As she dealt with her appearance, she thought about her emotional temperature.
The question was, had making love with Jack changed her in some fundamental way? After eighteen months of widowhood, she’d thought she would never get over the loss of her husband. But Jack Brandt had swept into her life and changed everything. She could imagine a future with him. The trouble was, he didn’t see it that way. Or to be more clear, he didn’t think he deserved a future with anyone. And if she wanted him, she’d have to change his mind about that.
With a show of confidence, she walked out of the bathroom and downstairs.
Jack was in the front hall. “There you are,” he said, like they hadn’t been together a few minutes earlier. “I should show you how the alarm system works.”
“Okay.”
He led her down the hall to a small office. “The control panel is in here. It’s not just for the house. There’s no fence around the place because that would be conspicuous, but we have sensors set up all around the property. If anyone approaches, we know.”
“What about animals?”
“We do have a deer fence. A low voltage system that keeps them away. Anything smaller could get under, but we figure anything smaller isn’t going to be a threat.”
“Unless someone sends in a cat with a bomb strapped to its back,” Max said as he entered the room.
“Very funny.”
When he gave her a studied look, she fought to keep her features neutral.
“I see you’re feeling better.”
“Maybe you can call it adjusting to reality,” she answered.
“Okay,” Max said.
Jack went back to showing her how to arm the system and how to disarm it.
“If you have to disarm it, how did you get inside?” she asked Max.
“We all have a remote.”
“And we all go armed here. That includes you, unless you’re not willing to do it.”
“I’m willing.”
“Jack told us you know how to use a gun. We have a firing range set up on the property. You can have some sessions with the rest of us.”
Before she could answer, the alarm on the console went off, and they all froze.
Chapter 21
The three men pulled out their weapons and turned toward the driveway.
“I want you in the safe room,” Jack said to Morgan, his voice low and urgent.
As he had done upstairs, he went to the window and looked out. Just visible in the fading light, a dark Mercedes was pulling up in front of the house. It stopped abruptly, and a man got out.
In the illumination from the security lights, Jack saw a man in his mid-fifties, with straight blond hair that was shot with gray, a broad face, and light eyes.
“Who is it?” Morgan asked.
“Cunningham,” Jack answered as he put his weapon away. “Turn off the alarm,” he said to Max.
As the other agent hurried out of the room, Jack turned to Morgan. “He’s the guy who hired Rockfort to infiltrate Trainer’s organization.”
He saw her face contort. “The man who gave you an impossible assignment?”
Jack shrugged. “We’ll meet him in the great room.”
He and Morgan went down the hall while Shane hurried to answer the door.
They heard Cunningham barrel inside. Shane and Max trailed behind him.
As soon as they all stopped walking, he rounded on the two agents. “I gave you direct orders not to interfere in this situation, and it looks like you ignored me.”
“We weren’t going to leave Jack twisting in the wind.”
“Tell me how you got there. How you found him. And what you did,” he growled.
“Tell me how you know about it,” Jack shot back.
“Satellite photography.”
Was that plausible? Maybe, if you were using the resources of the CIA.
“We might as well sit down.” Jack sighed.
Cunningham glared at Jack as he sat.
The others followed suit until the newcomer was the only one standing. Finally he sat, his expression stony.
Shane began to tell what had happened, starting with their idea of outfitting themselves for a fake fishing trip, through their conversation with the motel clerk and their arriving at the burned house as the militiamen were leaving to look for Jack and Morgan.
“And you engaged them?” Cunningham demanded.
“Jack and Ms. Rains had taken refuge in a cave and were under attack. We did what we could to help them escape alive.”
“Let’s hear the rest of it.”
Max continued with the remainder of the story.
When he was finished, Cunningham made a snorting sound and flapped his arm. “And now Trainer knows that Jack is working with well-trained men capable of pulling off that operation.”
Max nodded.
“Which is going to make him jumpy.” His head swung toward Jack. “Did you figure out what kind of attack he’s planning on Washington?”
“He confides his plans to no one. And as far as I could tell, there’s nothing written down.”
Morgan’s head jerked toward him. Apparently he no longer trusted this guy, and he wasn’t going to talk about his memory gap in front of him.
“Just great,” Cunningham muttered. “But there’s one thing we can be sure of. Trainer’s moving up his timetable. And he’s going to have guards patrolling the compound.”
“There’s no point in attacking the compound,” Jack said. “He’s not doing anything illegal in there.”
“Wasn’t it illegal to burn down my house?” Morgan asked. “Or to chase us to that cave and try to kill us?”
“We don’t have any proof that it was him,” Jack answered. “Our word against his.”
“Exactly,” Cunningham agreed. “Someone’s backing him. My guess is it’s someone in the private sector with power. We need proof of his activities. I want to capture him on the move toward Washington with a bomb or something in his van.”
“Risky,” Morgan murmured.
“It’s the only way we can nail him, which is why I wanted to know when he made his move.”
“We’re going to attack the problem from another angle,” Jack said.
Cunningham’s gaze swung toward him.
Morgan waited for him to talk about her plan to dig out his memories.
Instead he said, “We’re going to see if we can figure out who’s funding him. That might give us a clue.”
The government man looked thoughtful. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”
“We can monitor traffic in and out of there,” Shane said.
“If you can do it from a location where he won’t know he’s being watched.” Cunningham stood. “I want daily reports of your progress.”
“Fine,” Jack said.
“And if I want to have a face-to-face, I’d like to be
able to get in here without setting off an alarm. Do you have a spare remote?”
Max also stood. “I’ll get you one.”
Jack and Morgan remained in the living room. When they heard the front door close, she turned to him. “I don’t like him.”
“He’s not very likable.”
“Do you trust him?”
“We did at first.”
“But you didn’t tell him about your memory loss.”
“That wouldn’t have been productive,” Jack answered.
Morgan had offered him a technique that might or might not work to get those memories back, but he wanted time to think about it before he committed himself. And they did have other business that he considered urgent after Cunningham’s surprise visit.
Standing up, he said, “Before we do anything else, let me show you the safe room, in case there’s any real trouble around here.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s in the basement.” He led her over to a bookcase near the entrance to the kitchen area and pressed about halfway up along one of the vertical supports. A click sounded, and the shelves glided open, revealing a set of stairs.
“Like something out of a spy movie,” she murmured.
“But this is for real.” He turned on a light, then descended a few steps. She followed.
“You close the bookcase here,” he said, like a real estate agent giving a house tour. When he flipped another switch, the shelves swung back into place, sealing them off.
He led Morgan the rest of the way down the steps into an unfinished basement. Pointing toward a shelf of canned goods, he said, “There’s another hidden entrance over here.”
“If someone gets this far, won’t they suspect the shelves?” she asked.
“We did this one first, then thought the ones on top would be more effective.”
He pushed a switch on the wall and the shelves swung aside to reveal a metal door, where he turned a handle to swing the barrier open.
“It’s not locked?” she asked.
“You lock it from the inside.” He walked in, and she followed. The basement had been cold. It was several degrees warmer in the little room where she found herself. It was furnished with two sets of bunk beds, a small table and four chairs, and shelves with rows of supplies.
“It’s bulletproof and fireproof,” Jack said, struggling to be matter-of-fact. He didn’t like to think about Morgan having to lock herself in here.