He stared into her eyes, eyes that were glistening, smiling at him as much as her mouth was.
And he couldn’t look away.
He drew a deep breath.
And took a leap.
“When did things change between us?”
Her smile spread, and she leaned in closer. “I don’t know, but it has, hasn’t it?”
He nodded, and he raised his head from the pillow. She pushed him back, lowering herself closer to him, then gently kissed him on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled as she drew away. He opened them and gazed at this woman he finally realized he loved.
“How about when I get out of here, I take you out for dinner?”
“I’d like that, sir.”
He reached up and caressed her face. “How about you call me Franklin?”
She smiled, pressing her cheek into his hand and closing her eyes. “I’d like that too.”
66
Kane/Fang Residence
Falls Church, Virginia
“Do you think the couch is good here, or would it look better over by the window?”
Kane wagged a finger at Fang. “Sorry, darlin’, but you’ve got this all back-asswards. First, you figure out where you’re putting the TV, then you arrange all the furniture around that.”
Fang stared at him, her hands on her hips. “Ah, I’m the one who has to live here for 365 days of the year. You will rarely be around.”
Kane felt butterflies and reached out, pulling this incredible woman closer. He wrapped his arms around her. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. You choose where the couch goes.”
She smiled at him and popped up on her toes to give him a peck. “Good boy.”
He let her go. “We can always rearrange things when I’m back.”
A sidekick lashed out, stopping an inch from his nose.
He kissed her foot, then made to suck on her toe when she bent her knee, denying him.
“Don’t start something we don’t have time for you to finish.”
He grinned. “I can be quick.”
There was a knock at the door and Kane’s eyes narrowed. “Expecting someone?”
Fang gave him a look. “Do you have any clue who you’re living with? Your girlfriend has no friends, no colleagues, and no family she can ever see again.”
Kane tried to smile, but couldn’t, her words breaking his heart. She had no one except him, which was one of the reasons he had wanted to move.
He headed for the door and peered through the peephole.
And smiled at two of the reasons for picking this location.
He opened the door. “Hey, buddy! Good to see you!”
“Sorry, I would have called, but Sherrie insisted we surprise you.”
Sherrie lifted a pizza over her head with one hand, a bottle of wine with the other. “We come bearing gifts.”
“Come on in, come on in!”
Leroux followed Sherrie inside, and Fang rushed over, taking the pizza from Sherrie’s hand. “It’s so good to see you two.”
Sherrie gave Fang a hug, the two having been through hell and back together, a bond like that hard to break or replicate. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, not at all.” Fang glanced at the wine. “But we haven’t unpacked any dishes yet!”
Leroux held up several grocery bags. “Plastic plates, cutlery, and glasses.” He leaned toward Kane, whispering loudly. “And a bottle of Glen Breton Ice.”
Kane grinned, slapping his friend on the back. “A man after my own heart.” He pointed at the couch. “Grab a seat, but don’t be surprised if Fang moves it with you in it.”
Fang swatted him. “Dylan! Don’t be silly. Let’s eat, get them drunk, then get them to do all the moving for us.”
Kane roared with laughter as he emptied a love seat of several boxes stacked atop it, then hauled it over to where the food and drinks had been laid out. He sat beside Fang and goose bumps washed over his body at the smile on her face.
She was happy.
Truly happy.
And he realized at this very moment, that Leroux and Sherrie were probably the first houseguests she had entertained since her exile in America.
That was exactly why they had moved into the same building his best friends lived in.
He wanted her to have someone she could turn to if she were bored or lonely. Leroux lived at the office, and Sherrie was on assignment often as well, but just knowing they were close, he hoped would be enough to make her feel a little more at home than the isolation of Philly had.
At least Leroux and Sherrie knew who she really was, and she could be herself around them.
He sighed.
“What?” asked Fang, staring at him.
Kane waved at the gathered friends. “This. This is good. This is what I’ve always wanted.”
“What’s that?” asked Sherrie.
“Good friends. Good friends that you don’t have to lie to all the time.” He looked about the apartment. “A sanctuary from the craziness out there.” He put an arm around Fang and squeezed her tight. “A place where we can all feel at home.”
Fang smiled at him. “I feel at home already.”
Kane sucked in a breath then pushed her away. “Somebody pour me a scotch before I start getting all teary eyed.”
Fang patted his shoulder, smiling at Sherrie. “He’s really just a big teddy bear at heart.”
Leroux snorted as he handed a scotch to Kane. “Now that’s something I have never heard him called.”
Kane sipped his scotch, enjoying the bite. “Okay, I’m starving. Let’s break out the ’za.”
Sherrie flipped open the lid, revealing sixteen inches of cheesy goodness.
“It’s a thing of beauty,” sighed Kane, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eye.
Sherrie rolled her eyes. “This you get emotional over.”
“Hey, Russia, Japan, Korea, and how many other places have we been the past two weeks? I haven’t had a good pizza in I don’t know how long.”
Fang handed him a piece. “Enjoy, my little pooh bear.”
Kane eyed her. “We’re going to have to have a discussion about boundaries when friends are over.”
“Eat your pizza, dear.”
“Yes’m.”
Fang turned to Leroux as she took a piece for herself. “Any luck tracking down Tann?”
Leroux swallowed, holding a hand in front of his mouth. “No. He’s gone to ground. But I don’t think it really matters anymore. Park is dead, Bureau 121 is dismantled in Moscow, the North Korean rocket program has been hammered back into the Stone Age, for a little while at least, and the world has moved onto its next problem.”
Fang smiled at Sherrie. “I’m just glad you’re all back in one piece.” She took a sip of her wine. “It must have been fun, though, going undercover together.”
Kane grinned at Sherrie. “It was.”
Leroux jabbed a finger at him. “That reminds me. I’ve gotta bone to pick with you.”
Kane leaned back, putting some distance between him and his friend. “Umm, what?”
“If I ever see you kiss my girlfriend like that again, I’ll put a hit out on you.”
Kane roared with laughter, Sherrie joining in. He glanced at Fang, who wasn’t laughing, instead staring at him, giving him a look.
“Umm, I guess I better explain that, otherwise this is going to be a very short cohabitation.”
67
Boulangerie Klara
Luhansk, Ukraine
Pro-Russian Militia Controlled Territory
Captain Tann knocked on the door buried at the rear of a humble bakery, the aromas intoxicating, yet not enough to distract him from his mission. A Judas hole slid open, a pair of eyes staring at him.
“Agent K?”
“Yes.”
For today.
The hole slid closed, the sound of bolts on the other side echoing through the thick metal door. It swung inward, and he stepped through,
the door closing behind him. He was patted down, Tann not worried—there was no way he’d be foolish enough to bring a weapon.
“Is everyone here?”
“Yes.”
He stepped further inside, navigating a cramped hallway before coming out into an equally cramped room, half a dozen young men and two women sitting behind computers, turning to stare at him.
His eyes narrowed. “So few?”
“The Shadow Collective is the best. We only need a few.”
Tann nodded, putting his briefcase by the wall and removing his gloves. He smiled at those gathered. “And this is everyone? My employers want all who have helped us to hear what I have to say.”
“Yes, everyone is here.”
“Even those of us who are sick,” said a nasally voice from the corner.
Tann smiled. “I will be brief, then.” He handed a USB key to the man clearly in charge. “First, you will transfer my share.”
The man took the key, handing it to one of the others who plugged it into his terminal. The display updated, and millions of dollars’ worth of Bitcoins were transferred into his account, his private key on the memory stick ensuring only he could ever access his share of the ransomware attack’s proceeds.
The USB key was removed and handed back to him. He placed it in his pocket and smiled at the total on the screen.
Enough to disappear forever.
He had planned this for most of his life. The only means of escaping the tyranny of North Korea was through foreign service, and that was usually only given to family men. His parents had died young, so he had taken a wife he didn’t love, and had two children in rapid succession.
It had taken years of hard work, studying at the University of Automation, and finally getting his assignment to Bureau 121, a branch he knew out of necessity would deploy him in theater.
Yet he couldn’t simply defect.
He was of no value to anyone. He was too junior. But when the ToolKit had been stolen, by an agent he had direct access to, an agent that had already broken the rules by taking a foreign wife, he realized there was an opportunity here to fulfill his dreams.
He had approached Agent K, Donald Penn, and together, they set the plan in motion.
Only Penn hadn’t known the endgame.
Selling the ToolKit wouldn’t be enough. Not for what he wanted. But using it to hold the world ransom? That was an entirely different level of money.
Tens of millions at least.
Enough to disappear and never be found, and to enjoy that new life to the fullest.
He looked at the criminals who had helped him achieve his dreams, and smiled. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you all, people who truly appreciate the value of discretion. My employer hopes to once again make use of your talents.”
Their leader bowed slightly. “Thank you, sir. We look forward to that day as well.”
Tann smiled. “I, of course, don’t need to remind you that I was never here, and you have never heard of me or my employer.”
“Of course. We are all professionals here.”
“Yes, absolutely.” Tann bowed to the room. “I shall take my leave of you.”
He was led down the hallway, and the door was unlocked. He stepped through and into the bakery, eyeing fresh rolls being placed on a cooling rack. He bought a dozen, unable to resist.
He stepped out into the cool evening air and strolled down the street, chewing on one of the still piping hot concoctions as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He hit number 9 on the speed dial as he stepped into an alleyway.
The massive explosion from his briefcase bomb tore apart the bakery and its secret backroom operation, sending debris and a fireball in all directions, ending the Shadow Collective once and for all.
And leaving him a very rich man.
68
Janine Graf Residence
Odenton, Maryland
Graf plunked onto her couch, exhausted. It had been a good day. Several weeks had passed since the excitement surrounding her former partner, and now that anyone who mattered knew he was a North Korean spy, and the source of the leak, she had been completely cleared.
In fact, she had been told by her supervisor she was already up for promotion.
A good day.
She had toughed it out, never giving up hope, despite the whispers and dead-end assignments.
And it had paid off.
She was no longer persona non grata, smiles now greeting her at the office, invites to after-work gatherings extended once again.
It was as if the past two years had never happened.
And she wouldn’t want it any other way.
Except for one thing.
She wanted to share her happiness with someone, anyone. Someone she could be herself with.
And she could think of only one person.
But it was idiotic.
Insane.
She stared at her iPad sitting beside her on the couch.
Don’t do it.
She closed her eyes and reached out for the tablet, then sighed.
What’s the worst that can happen?
She had a hole in her life that she hadn’t been able to fill. But there was someone else out there with the same hole.
Perhaps they could help each other.
She opened her eyes and logged in.
69
Clayton Hummel Residence
Annapolis, Maryland
Hummel stared at the television, his favorite Battlestar Galactica episode, 33, about to finish. He loved the first couple of seasons of this show, though he felt it dropped off a bit in the last two. Still fantastic television, but 33, the first regular season episode, was incredibly entertaining, and he never tired of watching it.
His laptop beeped, and he glanced at it.
His chest ached and his stomach flipped.
He pressed pause on the remote, staring at the screen as his jaw dropped.
A rush of emotions swept over him as he read the short, simple message from someone he had never thought he’d hear from again, someone he had tried to forget, yet couldn’t.
Someone he didn’t even really know.
The past few weeks had been horrible, but nothing like two years ago when his heart had been shattered, permanently. The press had finally stopped hounding him, government officials were no longer questioning him, and the delivery guys had tired of asking what had happened.
Life, such as it was, was returning to normal.
He stared at the message, unsure of what to do, though as he read it, over and over, he realized there was only one thing he could do.
Take a chance.
He read the message one last time.
I miss my friend.
He closed his eyes, then hit Reply.
So do I.
THE END
Acknowledgements
Those of you who followed the WannaCry story, and dug a little deeper into the backstory of the NSA leak, will recognize a lot of elements from that reality embedded in this work of fiction. If you’re not familiar with what happened, and how close we came to it being far worse than it actually was, it’s worth digging into.
This book is dedicated to a man named Dave Camp. He was a colleague of my father’s, and a good friend to the family. When I was younger, we traveled to Switzerland with his family, and I have fond memories of that trip, and some great photos hidden away somewhere.
Dave’s name came up when I was discussing who I should dedicate this book to. I decided to go ahead, because there is an interesting story to tell with him.
When I started out writing, my father used to send copies of my books (in eBook form) to friends that he thought might enjoy them. As time went on, many of them became fans, and told him they had already bought the books. Dave was one of them.
Little did I know, he was a huge fan of my writing. A couple of years after I really got into this business, he sent me an email, out of the blue, through my website
. I had never heard from him in my life, as he was my father’s friend, not mine, and he addressed me as “Robbie,” which was what I was called when I was a kid.
He mentioned who he was, that he enjoyed the books, then asked about The Arab Fall and when it would be coming out.
It was a heartwarming email to receive, and I replied back right away.
That was June 29, 2013.
He died July 5th.
It was almost surreal to receive this email from someone from my past, making him a topic of conversation for the first time in probably decades, then to find out less than a week later he was dead.
A fitting dedication, I believe.
As usual, there are people to thank. My dad for the research, Chris Holder and the real Chris Leroux for some hacking info, Ian Kennedy for some explosives info, Brent Richards for some weapons info, the proofing team, and of course my wife, daughter, mother, and friends.
To those who have not already done so, please visit my website at www.jrobertkennedy.com then sign up for the Insider’s Club to be notified of new book releases. Your email address will never be shared or sold, and you’ll only receive the occasional email from me, as I don’t have time to spam you!
Thank you once again for reading.
DYLAN KANE WILL RETURN!
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