by Vicki Hinze
“You were neck-deep in it not a bystander, and almost losing you still knocks me to my knees,” he corrected her. “We need to be on our toes—all of us. So let’s focus on now, okay?”
Mandy heard a cease and desist order in that statement. “Well, obviously they failed. You are all still here.” She pulled at her memory, recalling what she knew of Lisa’s abduction and that whole human-trafficking mess. She focused on Mark. “You think Jackal went after my mother to get to you? You think he killed her because he figured out she had insisted on the breakup between Tim and me. But why would he do that? He wanted us apart.”
“Did he? We can’t prove that. I hope he didn’t kill your mother.”
Joe lifted a finger. “He said he did, in the phone call.”
Nick agreed. “Historically, when NINA claims responsibility, it’s responsible.”
“But historically, that’s on mass cases involving innocent civilians,” Tim reminded Nick. “This case is personal to us. We don’t have a history to guide us. So did Jackal really do what he said? Did he kill Liv?” Tim lifted his hands. “We don’t know.”
“Tim’s right,” Mark interjected. “Jackal could have been manipulating her to get to us. Whether he wanted Tim and Mandy together or apart is debatable.” Mark looked at Mandy. “People often say or do the opposite of what they mean. It is possible Jackal wanted you two apart, or he didn’t like what your mother did to bring about the split.”
“You think he might have objected to the way she did it, even though he got what he wanted?” Mandy tried to wrap her mind around this. When Mark nodded, Mandy asked, “Why would he wait nine months to come after her, then?”
“Astute question.” Mark nodded.
“Simple answer,” Tim told her. “NINA is notorious for its regimented actions. It demands obedience. If you’re with them or against them, you do what it says, when it says, the way it says or you pay the consequences—and they’re always steep.”
So Jackal had interjected himself into her mother’s life to get to Tim and Mandy. He took exception to how she and her mother had handled the breakup. “Okay, but if Jackal is NINA—“
“It is,” Tim told her.
No doubt there. “Accepted. If NINA tried and failed twice recently to get you guys, would they really try again so soon through Jackal?”
“They would.” Mark answered her.
“Dang straight.”
Nick frowned at Sam. “Think pepper tea.”
“They definitely would,” Sam quickly amended.
Tim explained. “The failed attempts cost them a fortune in business. Their criminal activity funds their political objectives, so they’ve been off licking their wounds, waiting for things to cool off a little before their next strike. We all knew there would be a next strike. With NINA, there’s always a next strike. They might be patient for a couple months before striking again, but they never give up or forget people who’ve disrupted their business and cost them money.”
“I see.” Her worst fears confirmed. “They’ve got you in a holding pattern, then I call Tim and they turn on the attack spigot again.” Boy, did she see. With that one phone call, she’d put all of them in lethal jeopardy—again. Guilt slammed through her, and her heart sank. “I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t called—“
“No, Mandy,” Tim said. “It’s not your fault. NINA would attack us again anyway.”
“Not if they couldn’t find you. My phone call could have been just the break they needed to pinpoint your location.” She’d be shivering in her bed for a month. Mom, what were you thinking? Getting involved with people like that and trying to face them on your own? How were you involved with them? Was it because of Tim and me? Or was it because of Charles Travest?
Oh, how Mandy wished she could answer those questions. But she couldn’t; she had no idea. Not the first clue.
“So what do you consider our odds?” Tim asked Mark. “They wanted our wedding stopped enough to threaten. Does it follow that they’ll try to stop our wedding from taking place?”
That was what he’d meant? Mandy’s heart nose-dived. “You want to use a wedding between us as bait for terrorists?”
Joe sighed and sent Tim a flat look. “Bad delivery, bro.”
“I see that it is.” Tim agreed.
Lisa touched Mark’s shirtsleeve. “Shall I call Nora and Annie to plan the wedding?”
“Not just yet. It’s barely six in the morning.”
“Of course.”
Mandy just stared at them, all engaged in different conversations.
“We’ll only do this if you agree, Mandy.” Tim assured her, speaking over the rest.
The others fell silent.
Tim continued. “Before you decide, you should be aware that we know nothing about Jackal except his name. Until you told us, we weren’t certain if he was male or female. We still can’t identify him. But he can identify us, so he has a huge advantage. If we know when and where to expect him, then we increase our chances of getting him before he gets us. It’s safest for us all.”
Safety for the team and their families was a masterful touch. True, and a masterful touch, and from Joe’s easing expression, he agreed.
“I see the wisdom of it,” Mandy told Tim. Give Jackal what he doesn’t want to flush him out. “The wedding plan has merit.”
Of course, it had merit. But what did a wedding mean to them on a personal level? Would it be real or fake? It could be real. Tim had asked if she still loved him, though he hadn’t said if he still loved her.
Still, he didn’t need for her to love him or to be in love with him for a fake wedding. Well, not unless he thought it was essential to the success of the mission. Then, he might. Bottom line, she didn’t know what to make of this for them.
Mark lifted the phone, and Lisa stopped him. “Who are you calling at six in the morning?”
“Crossroads. We need a meeting with Jeff Meyers and Peggy, Nora and Annie.”
Mandy looked at Tim. “Who are all these people?” More and more being called into this circle. That made her nervous.
“Jeff’s law enforcement. Successful working with us against NINA in the past. Peggy runs the crisis center. Annie is Lisa’s mom, and Nora mothers everyone in the village. The two—Annie and Nora—are the local wedding planners.”
Tim’s slotting them jarred Mandy’s memory. He had talked about Annie being attacked during Lisa’s ordeal. And Nora was elderly and nearly blind. “They work together now?” A wedding. Mandy was going to marry Tim. Real or faked, it’d be a memory she’d treasure the rest of her life—for however long she had a life.
A wedding. Her wedding. And no one who knew her would attend. Not her mother, her father, not a friend, not even an employee from the store.
You’ve lived your life nearly alone. You can do this alone.
She could. But she didn’t want to do it. She wanted someone . . . There was no one, and she had to just accept it. She and Tim would be there. That most mattered.
He’d be present, but would he really be there? What about after the real or fake wedding? What about the marriage? Would he really be there then?
A real or fake wedding followed by a real or fake marriage that could be just an essential pretense required for their pursuit of NINA and Jackal.
This was not the kind of wedding and marriage women dream about all their lives.
The questions about her life and future ran through her mind and made her uneasy, but those thoughts tumbled and churned and raised another question, and it haunted her. If, as Tim and his team hoped, Jackal showed up at the wedding, would either of them—any of them—survive long enough for the wedding or the marriage to be either real or faked?
That she didn’t know the answer worried her most of all.
Chapter 6
Henry, the actor known to NINA as Jackal, sat on a park bench facing the ocean and tossed bits of bread to the seagulls. “You called this meeting, Johnson.” The real Jackal was no doubt clos
e by and, while not wired to communicate, Henry had no doubt the bench upon which he sat was bugged so that he wouldn’t miss a word. Jackal would never admit to bugging him, of course, but Henry knew the man’s ways, having taken on this role for him multiple times before. Jackal left as little as possible to chance, and went to extreme lengths to protect his true identity. Dealing with NINA required it, if one wanted to live. “What do you want?”
That Paul Johnson was in Jacksonville at all irritated. It was an unnecessary risk. Why had NINA taken it? True, few would recognize the ex-convict who once had been the personal assistant to Gregory Chessman, a senior-level NINA operative now in prison, and Johnson had been highly trusted in the upper echelon of the NINA chain of command. But why chance using him now? Since his release, Homeland Security and half a dozen other agencies had to be tracking his every move.
Henry needed to relax. Anyone who might recognize Johnson wouldn’t recognize the man on the bench beside him, though the two meeting could arouse curiosity and result in a probe of his own identity. He didn’t much like that, but precautions to protect himself had been taken. Any investigation would lead to nothing but dead-ends. Good money was being paid to others to see to it, and to take on those risks for him. Still, at least from what he’d been told about operations, the breach of protocol wasn’t warranted.
NINA never breached protocol unwarranted.
That concerned him.
“Actually, Phoenix called for the meeting. I’m working for him now.” On the other end of the bench, Johnson let his gaze sweep the water.
“Doing what? I’d think for any of his activities he’d need more anonymity than you can provide.”
He swept his gaze. “Whatever he asks.” Johnson shrugged. “You know how it is.”
Actually, he didn’t. Not firsthand, and Henry intended to keep it that way. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he waited for Johnson to get on with the reason for the meeting. He didn’t seem in any hurry, though only a fool wouldn’t realize he was monitoring everything going on around him.
Fortunately, this early in the morning, that wasn’t much. Dawn was just breaking. The beach stood deserted, aside from a few early-bird walkers out strolling. The seaside park remained still and quiet; not yet fully awake, which made it perfect for his purposes. Later today, thanks to unseasonably high temperatures for October, it’d been teeming with children and adults in swimsuits, crossing the path to and from the ocean. “You haven’t yet explained why Phoenix sent you here. What’s so important it couldn’t be covered in a phone call?”
“Phoenix does things the way he wants to do them.”
“I know that, and I’m not questioning his judgment.” He didn’t dare. That was a sure-fire way to wake up dead. “Has something happened?”
Johnson nodded. “Tim Branson took Mandy to Seagrove Village last night.” The left side of Johnson’s face twitched. “Phoenix wants to know if you plan to interdict.”
Grateful that topic had been anticipated, Henry inhaled deeply, relishing the salty tang heavy in the air. He’d been warned long ago by his NINA recruiter that, regardless of how high-level one happened to be, being caught unaware was a red flag rewarded with a death sentence. The organization tolerated no errors, accepted no excuses, granted no second chances, and left no loose ends. “Not at this time. I’m just observing.” He spared Johnson a look laced with condescension. “Since you were directly involved, you know the Shadow Watchers have interfaced with NINA three times in the past year—I know, they consider only two clashes but we know it has been three—and three times, they have destroyed lucrative operations that will take NINA years to rebuild.”
“I’m aware of that, yes.” Johnson’s jaw snapped tight. “As you pointed out, I was directly involved in segments of all three failed missions. My segments were successful or I wouldn’t be sitting here.”
“True, but segments of success is not success. Three expensive failures are more than enough. I don’t want the Shadow Watchers interfacing on future operations, causing more failures. For that reason, observation alone seems prudent . . . for now.”
“Additional complications were Phoenix’s concern as well. Since Mandy is involved, he wanted your personal assurance.”
“He has it.” That woman had been a thorn in his side since her first breath. “For now, we’re staying away from their forsaken village. Let them congregate. Our organization and its current operations should be insulated.” This all could have been discussed on the phone. That it hadn’t been and Phoenix had flown Johnson in from Europe to ask these questions personally, warned that he had not yet revealed the real reason for this personal visit. “Is there anything else?” The sun was getting brighter now—dawn quickly fading to morning. He glanced up and squinted. Only traces of pink left in the sky.
“Just one thing.” Johnson retrieved his sunglasses, put them on, and then tapped them higher on the bridge of his nose. “How much does Mandy Dixon know?”
“About?”
“Us.”
Ah, there it was, the real reason for the visit. “Next to nothing, we think. We intercepted the phone call between her and her mother. Olivia intended to disclose everything to Mandy during dinner. Of course, we took swift action and prevented that meal and any disclosure from ever taking place.”
“How did you do that? Exactly?” Johnson probed, clearly already knowing the answer.
Phoenix had been closely monitoring. If he knew Mandy was in Seagrove Village with the Shadow Watchers, then he knew Olivia was dead. “We silenced her,” he said, noting Johnson didn’t flinch. He showed no emotion. Oh, yeah. He and Phoenix knew exactly what had happened. Still, Henry continued so that the real Jackal couldn’t be accused of withholding information. “By the time Mandy showed up at Olivia’s house, the police were on-scene and the investigation was underway. They have no leads, of course. For practical purposes, the investigation has already wound down. Her funeral was yesterday.”
“Did you attend?”
“With the authorities looking for her murderer? Of course not.” He and others had witnessed it from a distance, naturally. The images had burned into his mind. Mandy, standing alone at her mother’s grave, holding the umbrella over herself and the minister, placing a rose atop Olivia’s casket and then walking away. She hadn’t looked back. Oh, grief had ravaged her. No denying that. But she’d done a respectable job of doing what she had to do. She’d always been strong and self-reliant like her mother.
“So you’re confident Mandy knows nothing of NINA.”
“Next to nothing, I said,” he corrected Johnson. “She knows nothing of NINA and only the name Jackal. That’s it.” Precision and full disclosure was essential to his own well-being. One didn’t withhold anything from Phoenix and live to tell it. And anything but certainty about Mandy would leave Phoenix no choice. He’d obtain an authorization code and order that she be executed immediately. Honestly, if Phoenix had to issue a death warrant on her, he’d issue two: One on Mandy, and one on Jackal.
Johnson dabbed at his throat and the back of his neck with a pristine white handkerchief. It remained precisely folded. “Nothing else to report?”
“No,” he said. “Nothing else.”
“Very well.” Johnson stood up. “I’ll brief Phoenix. He’ll take it from there.”
“Take what from there?” While accustomed to being told only the portions of overall plans that fell under Jackal’s responsibility to execute, he currently had no portions of any plans to execute. Was there an ongoing operation from which he’d been excluded? If so, that was the worst possible news—for him and for Henry.
“Whatever he chooses.”
“Is there an active mission?” Henry asked Johnson. “Have I been cut out?”
“If you had been black-listed from the organization, we wouldn’t be talking, Jackal. You’d be dead.” Paul Johnson stood up and then walked away.
Like Mandy, he didn’t look back.
Still seated on the
bench, Henry watched Johnson cross the small park and keep walking until he reached the parking lot and then his black Lexus. He got inside and then leisurely drove away.
When the car disappeared from sight, Henry breathed his first easy breath, knowing Jackal hoped but remained uncertain he had stopped Olivia Dixon in time to spare Mandy’s life and his own. If she had shared anything with the Shadow Watchers, Jackal would have no choice but to kill her.
For his own protection and Henry’s, Jackal should order her hit now. As much as Henry would like to deny it, the woman was problematic; headstrong and bitter. She had been a potential powder keg for years. Now, with her mother gone and nothing to coerce her into keeping her mouth shut, she’d be even more dangerous.
Still, Jackal hadn’t killed her, and Henry suspected he wouldn’t unless she gave him no choice. Why? Henry had his suspicions—and they had nothing to do with protecting Henry—but no proof, and he didn’t dare to rely on speculation. That would surely get him and Mandy killed.
He remained silently relieved she was still alive and breathing. Jackal didn’t know it, but Henry had ties of his own to the girl, and he didn’t want them exposed. His life, and hers, depended on it.
Jackal approached and stopped at the bench. Henry squinted and looked up at him. Lean face; masked, of course; expensive shoes and a quality gray suit that cost more than most earned in a year. His age was anyone’s guess. Henry had never seen him without the mask, and he hoped he never did or he too could become a statistic. Neither NINA nor Jackal left witnesses.
“Yes, sir.” Henry focused on the face of the masked man. The glare all but obliterated his face.
Jackal didn’t sit down. “Everything go all right? Johnson have any surprises?”
“No surprises. Everything went fine.” Considering the circumstances, Henry understood being questioned. “I’m a professional, Jackal. It never occurred to the man that I wasn’t you. It’s never occurred to any of them.”
“What did he want?” Jackal already knew, of course. He’d planted a listening device on the bench and had overheard the entire conversation. But Henry had proven to be astute, an excellent observer, in the past and, this time, those skills could prevent nasty consequences from striking close to home.