by L. T. Ryan
Jack rose with her. He finished off his beer and set it on the table along with his cut of the bill. He jutted his chin toward the exit and they walked out together. They found the middle of the aisle, that place where no one knows quite what to do. Who was meant to walk there? Their pace was slowed. Others stepped aside for them. Sadie wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what. She stole a glance at Jack and thought she read the same feelings on his face.
He opened his mouth as though to speak.
She cut him off. “It’s been interesting.”
He nodded. “It has, hasn’t it.”
“I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” She bit her bottom lip.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to think that’s the only foot I have anymore.”
She glanced over and smiled at him, then went back to staring at the floor in front of them. “I just want to say, thank you.”
“For what?”
“When you’re under so long, the world around you warps to fit your new perspective. They talk about how character actors get so involved in their projects that they take on the persona in real life. If their character is depressed or demented, they become that way as well. It affects them so badly they sometimes need therapy afterward.”
“Are you saying you’re gonna need a therapist? Or that I acted as one?”
She forced a laugh and smile. “Trust me, Jack. No one is ever going to mistake you for a therapist.”
He shrugged, smiled, said nothing.
She took his hand in hers. He didn’t pull away. Their fingers interlaced and he squeezed her hand. “You, both you and Bear, you guys pulled me back in.”
He led them to a deserted gate where the lights were off and the seats empty. They stopped in front of a large bank of windows. A 747 taxied to the runway. Was it Bear’s? Jack let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What is it?” she asked.
“What did they to do you?”
“Who? The Agency?”
“Goddard and Nicolás?”
Sadie blew a wayward strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She faced the window, crossing her arms to mirror Jack’s stance. “Goddard was good to me. It was Mateo that I was afraid of. I started off like anyone else, at the bottom. But I was smart about it. I knew what they wanted from me and what it would take. I had to work my way up quickly so I didn’t always do that in the most moral of ways.”
“You did what you had to do to get the job done.”
She stared at her reflection in the glass as she nodded. The dull image of herself couldn’t hide the guilt and remorse she felt over her actions. “Somewhere along the way the line between Michelle and Sadie blurred. I think I’m always going to have to live with what I, what she did.” She tucked her chin to her chest and shook her head.
“Maybe you should see a therapist.”
She looked up and returned his smile. “That’s the best you can do?”
“We’re always learning,” he said. “In our line of work, we have to do some terrible things to define the line between right and wrong for others.”
She leaned back against the glass and watched the steady stream of travelers wandering through the terminal. Much like in life, they were coming or going and had no idea that the covert underworld was only steps away from them.
“You know, when Goddard took me under his wing, he knew what Mateo had requested of me.”
“But he didn’t stop him?”
She pulled her hair over her shoulder and leaned back into the glass. It felt cool against her neck and upper back. “It was happening to other women, too. Goddard didn’t stop it, but he saved me from it. He saw something different in me, I guess.”
“And Nicolás?”
She shook her head. “He was an idiot.”
“Did you have feelings for him?” Jack turned sideways, crossed one foot over the other, leaned with his shoulder against the glass.
“I don’t think I did.” She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Definitely not at first. But as Sadie and Michelle melded into one, I think I developed hope for him. Does that make sense?” She paused a beat. “I never forgot what I was doing there, but I saw something in Nicolás that made him different from the others. Did you notice the way he settled down after he realized there was no escape?”
“Different guy there at the end. I mean, he was cracking jokes with us.”
She smiled as a dozen memories ran through her mind’s eye in the span of a second or two. “He never wanted this life. His dream was to be an artist. A painter, actually. There’s a locked room in that house that only he can enter. It’s full of his paintings. But his uncle adopted him, toughened him up, turned him into a mad dog killer. Every once in a while I saw the artist inside him, but he pushed it back down so deep that it almost never came out anymore.”
“Most people don’t change.”
“That’s the thing,” she said. “I believe they can. They just need to want to change for themselves, not for someone else. Nicolás was just trying to survive. Same as me. The only difference was I was able to hold onto myself.”
“And here you are.” Jack swept his hand in front of them.
“And here I am.” Sadie checked her phone and felt her stomach knot and a wave of sadness pass through her. There were only a few minutes left. “Do you think we’ll run into each other again?”
Jack didn’t hesitate. “Definitely. We’re gonna become best friends, you and me. You’re gonna get sick of seeing my ugly mug and dealing with the fleas Bear leaves behind at my place.”
Sadie laughed. “Doubtful.” She looked up at him and bit her lip. She didn’t want to say goodbye. “Walk me to my gate?”
Jack took her bag from her. It was probably like carrying a roll of paper towels to him. Very few possessions from her days as one of Goddard’s underlings meant anything to her. She hadn’t checked any luggage. The items in the small black duffel would help transition her back to her old new life.
“So what’ll happen after you’re debriefed?” Jack said. “After this they probably can’t keep you in covert ops, can they?”
“Doubtful,” she said. “At least not any time soon, or without some major reconstructive surgery.” She looked over and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t that be something? I could stalk you and you’d never know it was me.”
He leaned over and sniffed her hair. “Got your scent now. You won’t be able to fool me.”
“Ah, the wolf. I guess we’ll see.” She slowed to a stop in front of her gate as the woman behind the counter called the final group for boarding. Jack handed over her bag. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, deliberately missing her mark by an inch so that the corners of their lips met. They were sweet and salty with a hint of hops. She had more she wanted to say, but the words would be lost here in Costa Rica. The ripple effect wouldn’t carry them back to Langley, or D.C., or New York City.
And perhaps that was for the best.
She gave him a smile and a wink and turned away. She passed the counter and entered the jetway where she was met with hot, humid air. She never looked back at the man named Noble.
Not once.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Calm washed over Jack as he turned away from Sadie. It felt as though this chapter had been closed. He knew it hadn’t, though.
He checked his watch, a Rolex Submariner knock off he’d purchased outside the airport entrance. It looked real enough for the time being. Once back in New York he could put on the real thing if he wanted to. He usually didn’t.
He had an hour until his flight would start boarding, so he wandered to his terminal and found an empty bank of seats and laid down on them. His thoughts traveled back over what had happened.
The op had been complicated and convoluted. Nothing new there. They had to trust enemies and watch their backs when friends were around. Nothing new there, either. But the consequences of his actions and inactions were far from over. S
ure Goddard was dead, and Camila was safe, and he and Bear were alive. In many ways, that was all that mattered.
But there were other factors now. Sadie, for one. She’d only been gone from his life for a few minutes but the effect had already taken hold of him. He wondered if he had missed on something with her. As to what that was, well he wasn’t so sure he wanted to explore that yet. His life was complicated and convoluted and he routinely paid for his actions and inactions. He wasn’t meant for anything deeper than something superficial. Sadie deserved better than that.
His zen-like state dissipated as his thoughts traveled to the other factor left to deal with.
Thorne.
Jack pulled the wayfarer sunglasses from his pocket and pulled them down over his eyes. He didn’t care for being kept in the dark, and Thorne was as mysterious as anyone he’d met in recent years. And that was saying a lot. The thing that bothered him was the fact that neither he or Bear detected anything when they first encountered the guy. He was Frank’s new lackey. So what. How had they not picked up on it?
He debated whether he should call Frank now. Instinct told him Frank had nothing to do with the double cross. Could Frank do something like that? Yes. Would he? Not without good reason, and Jack made it a point not to give the SIS chief a reason. The goal of the op had been to terminate Goddard. As far as Frank would be concerned, the quicker the better. It wouldn’t make sense for Frank to cause so much trouble for them.
He sat up and watched a young family, clearly from the States. The wife had a distinct mid-western accent. Wisconsin, maybe. The kid was wearing a Vikings t-shirt, so Jack changed his mind and pegged them from Minnesota. They smiled as they read a book together, completely unaware of the political change Jack had caused.
Would it be for the better? They’d just have to wait to find out.
He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head.
The woman at the counter announced they’d start boarding in ten minutes.
He’d allow himself his flight back to D.C. to rest and catch up on some sleep while trying to clear his mind of the events of the past few days.
Once his feet touched American soil, it was game on. He’d gauge what Frank knew and then go after the turncoat.
Thorne had no idea what the hell he had unleashed upon himself when he’d decided to play puppet master with Jack and Bear.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
April 1, 2006
I stepped into the dive off Reeves feeling as though I’d walked into a vat of grease. The smell of beer and pizza and smoke mixed to form an odd aroma that left me starving and gagging at the same time.
Jack sat in a corner booth with a half-full beer and an empty plate stained red in front of him. A mug was perched next to a plate across from him on the table. I passed the row of barstools, all of which were occupied by the kind of people who enjoyed a beer and a slice at ten in the morning.
Jack nodded at me and gestured for me to sit.
“How was your flight?” I slid into the booth.
“Long.”
“I hear you, partner.” I tried to rub the crick out of my neck. “Turbulence damn near brought my stone shack down around me.”
“Any trouble when you got in? Anyone at the airport?”
“Nah. You?”
Jack shook his head. His gaze slid toward the entrance. His face tightened. I didn’t have to look back to know that Frank had arrived.
I downed half my beer in a couple gulps and grabbed a slice of pizza off the plate. It was still hot. I breathed in the steam and then took a large bite.
“Now that’s good pizza,” Jack said. “Thick, cheesy, and greasy. All you need, man.”
“You can’t make bad pizza.” I turned to Frank as he dragged a chair from a nearby table and parked it between us. “Tell him, Frank. You can’t make bad pizza.”
“There’s good pizza and then there’s better pizza.” Frank shrugged as he looked around the room. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a beer around here?”
“Order it yourself.” Jack took a long swig of his drink, wiped the head off his upper lip.
Frank stared over at the bar. “Any chance the waitress will actually make it over here any time soon?”
Jack said, “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
Frank resigned himself to going up to the crowded bar to order his drink. I leaned forward over the table and kept my voice as low as I could. “What’s the plan here? We gonna tell him?”
Jack kept his gaze on the man. “Depends on him. If he acts shady, I ain’t sharing shit. Follow my lead, OK?”
I nodded and grabbed the last slice off my plate. Jack knew Frank better than I did. He’d know if Skinner was keeping something from us, even if we weren’t sure what that was.
Frank returned and eyed our empty plates and patted his stomach, then stretched one leg over his seat and plopped down. “So what’s this about? We could’ve met in my office. The booze is better there.”
“No pizza, though,” I said.
“No pizza here either,” he said.
“Speak for yourself.” I shoved the remainder of the crust in my mouth.
Jack leaned forward over his arms and spoke softly. “Why did you want the senator taken out?”
Frank stiffened, paused, glanced around the room. The bar wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. We had some distance from the others in our little corner. Springsteen belted out from the jukebox, probably providing enough cover for us to speak openly. It was the kind of place people didn’t give a care about others in, and a place that wouldn’t be bugged. It’s why Jack picked it. Frank should’ve known that. He just had to be dramatic about his paranoia.
“You don’t need me to answer that.” Frank smiled, shaking his head. “You telling me you didn’t see the evidence plain as day? Come on. Is that even a question?”
Jack glanced at me, back at Frank, nodded. “There were complications.”
“What kind of complications?” Frank drew nearer.
“Unaccounted for players,” Jack said.
Frank set his glass down with a loud clunk. “I don’t like unaccounted for players.”
“Neither do we,” I said. “And yet here we are.”
“Who?” Frank glanced between the two of us.
Jack clenched his jaw. The muscles at the corner of his mouth worked in and out. “I don’t feel comfortable telling you that just yet.”
“You don’t trust me?” Frank leaned back, pointed at himself.
“Never have.”
“After all this time, Jack?”
“Do you trust me, Frank?”
Frank deadpanned. “Fair point.”
We fell silent for a moment. I spoke up. “Have you heard anything?”
“About what?” Frank crossed his arms and expelled a heavy breath. “You haven’t told me anything.”
“We will, in time,” Jack said. “For now, let us know if you’ve had any suspicions.”
“Suspicions?” Frank leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “You think it’s one of my men, don’t you?’
“Never said that.”
“You’re not denying it.”
“We’re keeping all options on the table.”
Frank drained the rest of his drink. “You know my vetting process. You know how hard it is to get something past me. It’s damn near impossible.”
“Near is not absolute,” Jack said. “We need to know if it’s a possibility.”
Frank crumpled up one of the napkins in his fist and threw it down on the table. “It’s always a possibility. But if that’s the case, someone else is in on this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’d have to have pretty strong resources to throw me off your path.”
“What kind of resources?”
Frank rubbed his chin. “NSA? CIA? Maybe one of five people in the Pentagon. Someone way up there. And I mean way, way up there.”
Jack straightened. “
We were working with the CIA down there.”
Frank waved his hand. “The girl is a nobody.” Frank missed the way Jack’s gaze sharpened on him. “Her boss is pretty low level, considering what you’re alleging. It’d be way above their pay grade.”
I looked over at Jack and said, “Makes sense if it was the CIA, though. They were already entrenched with Goddard way before we got there. Sadie recognized you the day before the hit was supposed to go down. If she reported back to her handler and word got around, there’d be enough time to set up the kidnapping.”
“Still trying to figure that one out,” Frank said. “No one should’ve known Javier was involved.”
“Well someone did.” Jack finished off his drink and caught the eye of a waitress swinging by with an armful of nachos and wings.
“One minute, hon.” We all waited until she stopped and grabbed our refill orders before resuming the conversation.
I kept one eye out for her return as I spoke. “If it was the CIA, they’d know, wouldn’t they? Sadie and Javier appeared to have formed some kind of working relationship over the years.”
“He’s assisted her once or twice. It’s possible. More than possible. But if that’s the case—”
“Then we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands than we originally thought,” Jack said.
The waitress returned with three beers and a complimentary slice of pizza for Frank. He took a bite and downed half of his drink. “Look, you need to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you unless you tell me.”
Jack looked at me and raised an eyebrow as if to say it was my call.
I shrugged and said, “We need the info.”
Frank looked to Jack and waited a beat.
“Camila’s kidnapping wasn’t Nicolás Garcia’s idea. By the time we caught up with him, he pretty much admitted she was dropped in his lap.”
“By who?”
Jack ignored the question. “When Vasquez got involved, things got a bit more complicated. But as far as I could tell, he wasn’t in on the rest of the plan. He wanted the senator dead from the get-go, and when things started to go sideways, he turned the tables in his favor.”