“Where’s Fergus?” Jack asked.
“I do believe he might be outside with Avery, securing the money from Mr. Delgado’s vehicle. As you know, Ms. Sanders’s cut is in the bottom of this basket of flowers. I . . . ah . . . removed her portion and handed it off to Fergus the minute I got backstage,” Charles whispered, so that only Jack could hear him.
“I’ll take those flowers, sir,” a DEA agent said.
“Of course you will, my dear. They’re almost as pretty as you are,” Charles said gallantly. The agent scowled at him and walked off, carrying the basket of flowers.
“Well, from the looks of things, our work here is finished. Oh, there are Fergus and Avery. They look quite happy, so I assume our coffers are once again robust,” Charles said.
“How about calling the airport so we can be wheels up as soon as the officials cut us loose?” Jack said. “Where is Harry?”
“The last time I saw him, he was trying to negotiate a deal to buy all the videos and not having much luck.”
Jack looked around at his dance companions. All wore happy smiles. He mouthed the words, “We did good, guys. Real good.”
Cyrus threw back his head and howled.
“I know, I know. Okay, the guy in the handcuffs. Go on. Bite his ass and get right back here,” Jack said.
Cyrus always followed orders.
Epilogue
Two days before Christmas . . .
The armory that Myra and Annie had rented for the veterans’ first annual Christmas party was a winter wonderland, with wall-to-wall fresh Christmas trees with colored lights, hanging garlands, mountains of presents lined up under the wall-to-wall trees, just waiting for the vets and their families to open them. Christmas carols could be heard playing in the background, putting a happy smile on everyone’s face, especially the vets’, who wore the happiest smiles that people were finally doing something for them. Not to them. All were dressed in their finest, even the children, who waited with stars in their eyes to see Santa, aka Charles, make his appearance. Not a thing had been overlooked—even Lady and her pups, Cyrus, and Murphy posed as reindeer, to the children’s delight.
Tables of food were everywhere, most of it donated thanks to Annie’s relentless hounding of the local businesses and the promise of free advertising in the Post.
Myra tactfully nudged Annie toward the door. “Something is bothering you, Annie, I can tell. Want to talk about it? By the way, everyone is here but Dennis. Isn’t he coming?”
“He said he was coming, but he had the week off, said he had some business to take care of before Christmas. I don’t think he would miss this party. Something is bothering me, but it can wait till later. Oh, look. There’s Dennis now! Great. Everyone is here!”
Dennis waved and headed in their direction, weaving his way through the crowd, but stopped when he got to Harry. They watched him smile and hand Harry a slip of paper. They looked at one another when they saw Harry hug the young reporter. Harry Wong was not a touchy-feely kind of person. Not ever.
“How did you do it, Dennis?” The relief in the martial-arts expert’s voice convinced Dennis he would walk through fire for his friend Harry, if need be.
“After we got back, I went to that supper club and met with Carlie Fisher. I asked for the videos, and she just handed them over. They only had time to burn sixty-four of them. All you have to do is go to the Post, turn in this ticket, and Lost and Found will turn them over to you. I offered to pay for the videos, but she said no, that there was enough money in the business account to pay back all the people who had ordered them. She’s hired people to help her close up the Sanderses’ Supper Clubs. She told me that when she went to the office after she got back, there was a letter for her and a check for a million dollars for her years of loyal service. She was crying.”
“She had no idea what was going on behind the scenes,” Harry said. “The Sanderses ran a tight ship in that respect. It’s over now, and we’re on to our next mission as soon as Jack tells us what it is.” He jerked his head in Jack’s direction.
“Wonder what he and Mr. Sparrow are talking about. They look . . . intense. Harry, did Snowden ever find out what happened to Ms. Sanders? The last thing I heard, his associate was at the airport outside San Francisco when the private plane she had hired landed. And that when no one other than the pilot got off, he went looking for her. But she was nowhere to be found. And the pilot said that he had no idea what Mr. Snowden’s man was talking about, that he had just flown the plane in from a small airfield near Denver, and there was no passenger on the plane when he got to the plane.”
“Well, Dennis, that’s what you get for taking a vacation and going off the grid. Two days after you left, Avery caught up with the pilot who had flown the plane to Colorado. And here is what he learned. About two hours into the flight from Miami, a message came, telling the pilot to land at that small airfield outside Denver and saying that Ms. Sanders and the pilot were to get off. Another pilot would take the plane to San Francisco. There was also a message for Ms. Sanders, to be given to her if she balked at the change in plans, which, the pilot said, she did most vociferously.”
“What,” Dennis asked, really interested now, “did the message say?”
“Here’s what’s interesting. According to the pilot, what it said was that going to San Francisco was as good as going back to that trailer in Alabama. And when she heard that, Ms. Sanders looked like she had seen a ghost. And then she started to bawl like a baby. And when she calmed down, he heard her mutter to herself something that sounded like, ‘Maybe I’ll get that conveyer belt yet,’ which left him shaking his head and thinking she must be nuts. And, no, I have no idea what she could have been talking about.
“Anyway, the pilot landed outside Denver, he and Ms. Sanders got off, and he was given ten thousand dollars in cash and told to take a nice vacation somewhere for ten days or two weeks, preferably in South America or the Caribbean. Seems the guy had always wanted to go to Rio, so that’s where he went. And Snowden’s people had no idea where to look for him, so it was not until he returned home that they found him.”
“Holy cow,” Dennis said. “That must mean—”
“Yeah, that’s what we figured, too. Somehow, someway, Gabe Sanders learned what was going on and figured that if Toby had ratted them out, there was no way that Pilar could get away by flying to San Francisco from Miami. So he set up this diversion, and, we think, the two of them probably flew off into the sunset. I guess maybe he really did love her. So, we may not have caught the Sanderses. But the mission is over. It’s done, finished. We took a ton of drugs off the street. Hopefully, we managed to keep a lot of kids safer.”
“I know, I know, but in the end, I think she was trying to make up for it. She could have just walked away and not paid anyone anything. Instead, she gives Carlie Fisher a cool million. She takes care of all the dancers. She forgives Toby and did not even appear to have any hard feelings. Like you said, it’s over and done with. The DEA is happy, that’s for sure. Man, those two look like thunderclouds. This is supposed to be a party. I’m going over there to see what Jack and Mr. Sparrow are looking so hyper about.”
“Who is the present for?” Harry asked as he pointed to the gaily wrapped gift in Dennis’s hands.
“It’s for all these people,” Dennis said, waving his arms about.
“You bought it, didn’t you? You sly son of a gun! You went back to Florida. You bought the Pink Pelican!”
“Shhhh. Yeah. I did. Got it for a good price. My plan is . . . keep half for use by the public to bring in revenue and the other half for the veterans to enjoy free of charge. No one will get turned away. That’s Annie’s mantra these days. Lots and lots of job openings, in case any of them are looking for jobs. It’s a work in progress.”
“That’s a great thing you did, kid. Really great. The big question is, who are you going to get to run it?”
“That’s all taken care of. But until the deal is signed, I can’t say
a word. You’re smart, Harry. Figure it out. Who isn’t here tonight? Look over at Annie and Myra. Then look at Sparrow and Jack.”
Harry turned statue still as he looked at Annie and Myra and read Annie’s lips.
“Let’s take this outside, Myra, and have a cigarette,” she said.
“We don’t smoke, Annie, and we don’t have any cigarettes.” Nonetheless, Myra followed Annie to the great doors that would lead them outside into the blustery December coldness.
“I know, but Sparrow does, and Jack does once in awhile. They’re going outside, too. We can bum one off them. Pick up your feet, Myra. Something is going down, or it already went down.”
Outside, the foursome fired up cigarettes, with Annie and Myra coughing and sputtering while Sparrow and Jack drew smoke into their lungs.
“Okay. What is it?” Annie snapped. “We heard about your mission and how both Mr. and Ms. Sanders outwitted you. It happens. Remember, we lost Hank Jellicoe twice. Sooner or later, you’ll catch them, just like eventually we’ll get Jellicoe. You can run, but you can’t hide forever. Now spit it out. What’s going on?”
“Like you don’t know,” Jack muttered.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking. So . . .”
“Why didn’t you tell us Bert Navarro resigned?” Sparrow asked.
“Because I just found out this morning, and as you can see, I’ve been rather busy with this party and all. He sent me an e-mail. It’s not the end of the world. Hong Kong is up and running, and his replacement is first rate. No worries. I told him he could name his price and continue to run Babylon, but he turned me down. Why does this concern you two? It’s business. No one, not even Bert, is indispensable.”
“He’s in town,” Sparrow said. “He went by the Hoover Building this morning to see me, and my old secretary told him where to find me. He came out to the clinic. The thing is, he wasn’t alone.”
“You gonna make me pull it out of you, Mr. Sparrow?” Annie said.
“He had his . . . there was . . . His . . . fiancée was with him. You don’t know this yet, but Dennis bought the Pink Pelican in Miami. He’s turning it over to you this evening, the deed, that is. He hired Bert to run it. Bert said yes. That’s all I know, and I wish I didn’t know that.”
They all asked the same question at the same time. “Does Kathryn know?”
Four cigarettes dropped to the ground. Four shoes stomped on them. Four people picked them up and dropped them into a trash bin by the massive doors.
“I didn’t ask, but I’d say from observing Kathryn this evening that the answer is, no, she does not know,” Sparrow said, holding the door open for the women to go through first.
“Just in time. Santa is about to take center stage. The military chaplains are all lined up to give their blessing. We all need to say a prayer,” Annie said, a catch in her voice.
Once the prayer was over, the portly Santa waved his arms. “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
All the reindeer barked.
“Merry Christmas,” everyone shouted at the same time.
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1
Kristine Kelly propped her chin on her elbow to better observe her husband’s slick, naked body. She felt a second burst of passion but knew she had to squelch it. Instead, she stared boldly at Logan’s hard, wet body, aware that he was staring just as boldly at her. How was it, she wondered, that after twenty years of making love to the same man, she could feel exactly the same as she had felt on her wedding night? She was about to voice the question aloud when Logan said, “Was it as good for you as it was for me?” She squirmed closer, savoring the slickness of their two bodies meshed together. Was it her imagination or did Logan’s words sound practiced, rehearsed, even flat? Where was the light teasing banter that was always present after one of their marathon lovemaking sessions? Why wasn’t Logan lighting a cigarette the way he usually did? A cigarette they both puffed on. According to Logan, a cigarette was the ultimate conclusion to a satisfying session of lovemaking. She didn’t know if she agreed or not. If the choice was hers, she would opt for serious pillow talk and a second round of lovemaking. The cigarette was always better the second time around. She waited.
“Well?”
“Of course,” she said, offering up her standard response. “I feel like crying,” she blurted.
“Are you going to cave in on me now, Kris? We’ve been over this a hundred times. You said you were okay with it. The kids said they were okay with it. Thirty days is not an eternity. You’ve been a model military wife, so don’t go all wimpy on me now and screw it up. We’ve always gone by the book. It is not the end of the world. When you return to the States you will be so busy you won’t have time to miss me. You need to register the kids for school, get the farmhouse ready, buy a car, get ready for the holidays. It’s the way it is, Kris. What is your problem?”
Kristine picked up on the impatience in her husband’s voice. So it wasn’t her imagination after all. Logan was annoyed with her, and he wasn’t bothering to hide his feelings. She felt the urge to cry again and didn’t know why. No matter what she said or how she said it, her voice was going to be defensive-sounding. She struggled for a light tone. “I guess it has something to do with your long career coming to such an abrupt end. Twenty years is a long time, Logan. I think we handled it well. Like you said, we went by the book and never complained. We were a family of good little soldiers. I wish for your sake that you could have gone all the way and made general because I know it’s what you wanted. I have to take issue with the medical board. Why does having just one kidney prevent you from getting promoted and staying in for thirty years? You never faltered, you did your job, you went by the book, and we all played by the rules. It’s not fair. I know it’s bothering you because it’s bothering me. I don’t like it when you pretend, Logan.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kris. It is what it is. I’ll muster out in two weeks and two weeks later you’ll see me driving up the road. Make sure you have a big, four-layer chocolate cake and a very large pan of your lasagna waiting for me. Two bottles of wine. Good stuff now. One for you and one for me. After that, if we’re still standing, we’ll make love all night long. How do you feel about that?”
“It sounds wonderful, Logan. I wish I could turn off my emotions the way you can, but I can’t. The truth is, I’m going to miss you terribly because you’re going to be half a world away. Figure it out, Logan, how many miles is it from Leesburg, Virginia, to Bremen, Germany?”
This time the impatience in her husband’s voice was more noticeable. “The mileage isn’t important. I’ll call and write. I’ve never let you down, so where are these negative feelings coming from? Are you telling me now that you aren’t capable of taking the kids back to the States and getting the house ready? I’ve always admired the fact that you were your own person. There isn’t anything you can’t do if you set your mind to it. It’s just thirty days! We’ve been separated before, and you never acted like this. I need to know what it is, specifically, that’s bothering you.”
Kristine looked her husband in the eye. He was almost snarling now, and she hated it when he got like this. “It’s the end of a chapter for us. The end of our lives in the military. The kids don’t know anything else. Nor do I. I guess being a civilian again scares me. I try not to think about it, but most times I lose the battle. It’s all going to be so new. The kids are scared, too, even though they’ve been managing to bluff their way through the days these past few weeks. Furthermore, I just don’t understand why we can’t stay and go home together. Why do we need to go first and you follow thirty days later? We should be here with you when you walk out those doors for the last time. I put in my twenty years, too, Logan.”
“Kris, we settled this months ago. Our belongings are en route. Major Tattersol is ready to move in here the moment we move out. You sai
d you could handle this.” Logan swung his legs over the side of the bed and stomped to the bathroom. “You do realize you just ruined what was supposed to be a perfect evening, don’t you?” Logan shot over his shoulder before he slammed the door shut. Kristine cringed when she heard the lock snick into place.
Kristine buried her face in the pillow. Damn, I can’t do anything right. Perfect evening, my foot. What is wrong with saying how I feel? Doesn’t he understand how much I love him, how much I’m going to miss him? Thirty days could be an eternity when one has to cope with three teenagers who have a hate on for everything in the world, including their parents. Shit! She hadn’t even mentioned their finances. Her eyes filled. I’m sick and tired of being a good little soldier. I never wanted to be a soldier. All I ever wanted was to be a good wife and a good mother. She moved then to curl into a fetal position, at the same time noticing the two rolls of extra flesh that moved upward to press against her breasts. She yanked at the sheet as she wiped at her tears with the hem of the pillowcase. The evening was not going the way she had planned. In four short hours she would be herding the children out the door to a waiting car for the ride to the airport. She needed to do something, but had no idea what it was.
Kristine squeezed her eyes shut as she ran the scene over in her mind. The kids would be cranky, mouthy, and hateful because they were leaving their friends, enduring the long plane ride home, and taking up residence in a place they could barely remember. The worst thing of all for the three of them was the prospect of starting over in a new school. She’d spent whole days trying to reassure her children things would be wonderful if they would just open up to the move. Nothing had worked, probably because they sensed her own anxieties and fears, something a good soldier should never reveal.
Kristine jerked upright when the bathroom door opened. She stared at her husband, who was fully dressed. “Where . . . where are you going at this time of night, Logan?” she whispered. She hated the sound of fear in her voice.
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