Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7

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Retribution - A Special Agent Dylan Kane Thriller Book #7 Page 14

by J. Robert Kennedy


  “I’m fully aware of that. It was a mistake. I got caught up in the moment. I was thinking about Angela…” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

  Davis rose then rounded the desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I forgive you. Now how about we make things right?”

  He stared up at her, his eyes burning. “How?”

  “We call a press conference, tonight. Put out a statement where you apologize for what you said, tell everyone it was a moment of weakness caused by your grief for your murdered daughter, and that you still want those responsible brought to justice, but not through vigilantism.”

  He reached up and squeezed her hand on his shoulder. “What would I do without you?”

  “Go to prison, apparently.”

  He laughed, letting go of her hand. “You’re probably right.” He pointed toward the door. “Now go organize that press conference. I want to get this over with before we hear back from Simmons.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  38

  Bureau 121—Moscow Station

  Embassy of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea

  Mosfilmovskaya Street, Moscow, Russian Federation

  Colonel Park cursed, slamming a fist on his desk, causing the contents to rattle, and Captain Tann to flinch. “That bastard! I can’t believe he has Agent K!”

  Tann nodded as he tried to relax. “It is indeed unfortunate. Mr. Temple’s resourcefulness continues to impress.”

  Park ignored his underling’s obvious observations. “We need Agent K back before he talks.”

  “What if he already has?”

  Park paused, pursing his lips. “You don’t think he would crack so easily, do you?”

  Tann stared about the room, at anything but his superior.

  “Speak!”

  Tann flinched again. “Yes, sir. Well, sir, I believe we lost Agent K years ago.”

  Park’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? He delivered us the ToolKit only two years ago.”

  “Yes, this is true, but, well, he took a wife, sir! Without sanction. Then he left the NSA—”

  “Out of necessity. His career had been stalled because of the botched”—he delivered air quotes—“Hummel investigation. We put him on ice until we could figure out what to do next.”

  “Yes, and I said we should have brought him in right then.”

  “And I said that would be unwise, as a former NSA agent suddenly disappearing, married with a child, would cause too many questions to be asked. It could start a mole hunt within the American government, and we couldn’t risk that.”

  “Yes, and at the time, that sounded like the right thing to do. But now, here we stand, with Agent K in the hands of mercenaries hired by a madman, who don’t have to follow any laws. They could be torturing him as we speak, and he could be confessing to everything.”

  Park couldn’t deny Tann’s logic. In retrospect, he should have terminated Agent K the moment he broke protocol and took a wife without permission. It created ties that couldn’t easily be broken, making extraction almost impossible. Without a family, Agent K would have simply resigned then moved without leaving a forwarding address beyond a mailbox. He would be back in North Korea, and none of this would be happening.

  Yet that wasn’t true, was it?

  If they had extracted him after the Hummel operation, he still would have come under investigation, and when he was found missing, the Americans might have figured out he was a spy regardless.

  But at least he wouldn’t be in the hands of Temple.

  “We need to get him back, or at the very least terminate him.”

  Tann nodded. “But how?”

  “We need leverage over Temple.”

  “What could we possibly do? He has no family left, he’s worth billions, and recent actions suggest he couldn’t care less if he dies or goes to prison.”

  Park jabbed a finger at the computer, the listening device he had a team plant in Temple’s office after his press conference, proving invaluable. “Haven’t you been listening?”

  “Sir?”

  “There’s one thing he still cares about.”

  Tann’s eyes narrowed. “Himself?”

  Park chuckled then stared out the window for a moment before sucking in a deep breath, committing to something that might just seal his fate. “Send the West Coast team in immediately. We can’t leave Agent K in Temple’s hands any longer.”

  Tann’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir! But what’s the mission?”

  Park shook his head. “You really haven’t been paying attention, have you?”

  39

  Albany, New York

  Kane now sat in the driver’s seat of the SUV Bravo Team had abandoned him in. Thankfully, Niner had left the keys in the ignition, which had surprised him a little, the bastard known for playing pranks, and what better one than to leave him stranded with two vehicles wanted in relation to an assault on an NSA convoy?

  He had already relocated, now in a restaurant parking lot about five miles away, with little chance of anyone stumbling upon him. A new vehicle was already on its way, its ETA less than five minutes. Once it arrived, he’d inform Graf that he had woken up on the side of the road, apparently dumped by those who had kidnapped Penn.

  At least then they wouldn’t be searching for him, though he knew she had questions he couldn’t answer. At least not now.

  A car backed in beside him and he glanced over as the door opened and a long, smooth leg appeared. He smiled in appreciation, then followed the lithe figure to the mockingly judgmental face of Sherrie White.

  “Do you stare at all women like that?”

  He grinned. “Only the ones I know.”

  “Uh-huh.” She jerked her head toward the car. “Come on, let’s go.”

  She climbed back in, closing the door as he stepped out and rounded the rear of the vehicle, sitting in the passenger seat. Sherrie pulled out, quickly putting distance between them and the Bravo Team’s vehicle.

  Kane glanced at Sherrie. “So what are you doing here?”

  She shrugged. “You needed off the books backup, and I was available.”

  “And this dress you’re wearing?”

  She gave him a quick look. “It was girls’ night, and you interrupted.”

  He gave her another once over. “Now that’s something I’d like to have seen.”

  “Hey, you’ve already got a girl. And I’m your best friend’s girlfriend!”

  He laughed. “Which one upsets you more?”

  She paused. “I’m not sure.” She harrumphed, a decision made. “Both.”

  He laughed again. “Your buttons are too easy to press sometimes.”

  “Uh-huh. So where to?”

  “Let’s just keep driving.” He pulled out his phone, dialing Leroux, putting it on speaker.

  “Control Actual here.”

  “Hey, buddy, it’s me. Guess who just picked me up for a night on the town?”

  Sherrie leaned toward the phone. “Hey, sweetie, love you!”

  “Umm, you’re on comms with, like, the entire Ops Center.”

  Sherrie grinned at Kane. “Okay, I love you all!”

  Laughter could be heard.

  “That’s very nice to hear, Agent White, as I’m certain the NSA and White House representatives on this call will concur.”

  Sherrie slapped a hand over her mouth and gave Kane a mortified look at the voice of Director Morrison. Kane deflected some of the attention from her.

  “Well, Director, you already know I love you, and I don’t care who knows it. I assume you’re aware of what just happened?”

  “Yes. The Delta team has Penn in custody and are bringing him in for a formal debriefing by NSA personnel. Right now, we have two concerns. One is the fact Franklin Temple has called open season on anyone who owns a computer, and second and more important, is that Bureau 121 has been operating out of Moscow with impunity.”

  “Are we confident they had nothing to do with the ransomware attack?


  “No. We do know that the Shadow Collective has been used by the Russians before, and are operating on the Russian side of the Ukraine conflict, essentially under their protection.”

  Sherrie slowed for a stop sign. “What about the North Koreans? Have they used them?”

  “We have no information to suggest they have, but there’s so much overlap in these groups, anything is possible.”

  Kane pinched his chin, thinking. “Sir, I think we have to assume the North Koreans didn’t know Penn had sold the data, otherwise they would have extracted or eliminated him long ago.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We have to assume they’re going to make another play for him.”

  “Agreed.”

  “How long before he’s secure?”

  “Any minute. Delta is inbound with him on a chopper as we speak.”

  Kane sighed with relief. If Delta had him in a helicopter, there was little chance of interception. He winked at Sherrie. “Sir, I’d make sure you keep Niner away from him. He is, after all, Korean. Who knows where his loyalties lie?”

  Somebody coughed.

  “I’ll take that under advisement, Special Agent.”

  Kane grinned at Sherrie who punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

  “Sir, with Penn secure here, I’d like to request permission to visit Moscow.”

  “To what end?”

  “I haven’t seen Red Square in a while, and it might be nice to plant the American flag there in case we need it.”

  “You’ve got a girlfriend. You better not be planting anything over there,” muttered Sherrie.

  Somebody laughed on the other end, Sherrie slapping her hand over her mouth.

  “Very well. We’ll arrange it,” replied Morrison.

  Kane glanced at Sherrie. “I’d like to suggest Agent White accompany me.” She grinned eagerly. “It would be a good opportunity for her to practice her Russian.”

  “Agreed. She can act as chaperone. I’d hate to have to train a new agent after Fang gets through with you should anything get planted in the wrong place.”

  Well done, sir!

  “Good thinking, sir.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, I’m good. Can I pick you up anything while I’m there? Borscht? Vodka?”

  The line went dead.

  Kane looked at Sherrie. “Do you think I went too far?”

  She eyed him. “Umm, yeah?”

  He grinned. “Good. Though I do think your flag planting joke was the highlight of the conversation.”

  She stared at him, aghast. “I really need to find new friends. Hanging around with you is making me do stupid things.”

  40

  Director Morrison’s Office, CIA Headquarters

  Langley, Virginia

  “The domestic side of this is no longer our concern, and officially, it never was.”

  Leroux nodded at Morrison. “Understood. Did you catch any flak from Washington for Dylan being involved?”

  Morrison chuckled. “No more than usual when it comes to him. If it wasn’t for the fact he saved Special Agent Graf’s life, and kept Penn alive, the story might have been different. Right now, Washington is happy with his cover as a Homeland agent should anything go public about his involvement, and Homeland is happy to have a hero on their payroll, though his name and picture will never be released.”

  “Good to hear.” Leroux shifted in his chair. “Umm, I know you don’t like me being Control when Sherrie—I mean Agent White—is involved, but, umm, well, I was wondering, who did you have in mind?”

  Morrison regarded him for a moment, his steepled fingers bouncing off his chin. “I need my best on this, and you and your team fit the bill.” He held up a finger before Leroux’s smile spread too far. “But! And it’s a big but! Sonya takes over the moment she feels it’s necessary. Understood?”

  Leroux nodded. “I agree completely, but it won’t.”

  “Good. I’ve already spoken to her, and I’ve made it clear that despite any feelings she might have for you personally, she must not hesitate to take over. If she does, I’ll have her transferred off your team.”

  Leroux blushed. “Umm, I’m, umm, sure that won’t be necessary.”

  Morrison chuckled. “Two gorgeous women after you.” He shook his head. “Ahh, to be young.”

  Leroux burned hot, staring at the floor. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.”

  Morrison leaned back in his chair, laughing. “Son, one day you’ll be sitting in this chair, looking at the young whipper-snapper you’ve been mentoring for years, and give everything to be that young just for one more day.”

  Leroux smiled shyly, glancing at Morrison. “Yeah, I guess it’s not so bad.”

  Morrison pointed at the door. “Go, before I get too jealous.” He leaned forward, picking up his phone. “And see what you’ve done?”

  Leroux rose, his eyes narrowing. “What?”

  “You’ve made me feel guilty. Now I have to call my wife and prove I’m still a good husband.”

  41

  Temple Technologies Corporate Head Office

  Mountain View, California

  “So to reiterate, I apologize for anything I might have said that some misinterpreted as a call to action to kill hackers. Those were the words of a grieving father. Yes, when I said them, I did want them dead, but I didn’t mean that they should actually be killed. If I said I wished every pedophile in the world were dead, I would mean it, but it wouldn’t mean that people like you and me should go out and kill them. Let’s leave the justice system to do its job.”

  “Mr. Temple, Kate Enright, KPLA. What do you say to the families of the dozens who have already died? We have reports that scores have been murdered, mostly in the Ukraine. What about those people who have already fallen victim to your call for vigilante justice?”

  “To them, I say I’m sorry for their loss.”

  “But aren’t you responsible?”

  Davis stepped forward, leaning toward the array of microphones. “Mr. Temple in no way accepts responsibility for the actions of those who felt taking the law into their own hands was somehow justified by what he said. Next question.”

  Temple gave her a slight smile, Davis once again saving the day.

  “Is your company responsible for the Internet outages in the Ukraine and Belarus?”

  Temple shook his head. “No, we’re not. Once again, we’re the victim here. As you are aware, since my previous press conference, Temple Technologies has been the target of near constant cyberattacks. This has spread to our subsidiaries and subcontractors as well. In this case, my company has provided much of the backbone hardware in these countries, and hackers have targeted the Internet Service Providers, the ISPs, in these countries to try and embarrass our firm. We’re confident they will be back up and running in short order. Last question.”

  “Sir, my sources in Washington tell me that former NSA Special Agent Donald Penn has been arrested and is now being questioned for his involvement with the ransomware attacks. Will you be testifying should he go to trial?”

  Temple’s heart slammed as he processed the words. If Simmons had Penn, then how the hell could he be in custody? Was Simmons lying to him? He hadn’t seen any proof that Penn had been captured, so it was possible. He glanced over his shoulder at his security chief, who appeared slightly flushed and was avoiding eye contact.

  Could Simmons be government?

  Had he been betrayed?

  He looked at Davis who appeared as shocked as he was by the statement, though she was covering it well, probably better than he was.

  He turned back to the cameras. “I’m sorry, but you caught me off guard with that piece of good news. If progress is being made in the case, then I applaud the government’s efforts, and should Agent Penn prove to be guilty, I hope our courts deliver a long, punishing sentence. Good night.”

  He turned, striding toward the doors of the office tower, dozens of questions s
houted at his back. He cleared the revolving doors, heading for his private elevator. He glanced over his shoulder at his security chief, Bill Garvin. “Come with me.”

  Garvin nodded, stepping onto the elevator with Temple and Davis. They rode in silence, then exited at the top floor, Temple leading the way into his office. Davis closed the door as Temple turned on Garvin.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Garvin stared at him, wide-eyed. “Umm, I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “I just spoke to Simmons, not two hours ago, and he told me they had Penn in custody.”

  Garvin raised his hands slightly. “Sir, I have no idea. I haven’t spoken to Simmons since I arranged the initial meeting. I thought it was best I keep out of it, just in case something went wrong.”

  Temple stared at him, his chest heaving as he sucked in each enraged breath. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Sir, I don’t know what to say, except before we go any further, can we at least confirm this reporter’s story? You know how the press are these days.”

  Davis stepped forward, the voice of reason. “He’s right, sir. We need confirmation. I suggest we call Simmons, and demand proof that they have Penn.”

  “But I told him to kill him.”

  “Then he can send us a photo of the body.”

  Temple sighed. “Very well. Make the call. Now.”

  42

  FBI Field Office

  Albany, New York

  Command Sergeant Major Dawson watched through the two-way mirror as Penn was grilled by two NSA interrogators, the floodgates opened after their brief ride together. It appeared Mr. Penn would be a veritable fountain of information.

  Atlas’ impossibly deep voice rumbled. “I get the sense he doesn’t want to return to Korea.”

  Niner held his hand up, making a show of squeezing his thumb and forefinger together, as if squishing Penn’s head between them. He glanced at Atlas. “North Korea.”

 

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