The door opened and CJ forgot about the bottle.
Sam and the gun holder came in followed by two other men, one of whom was Rory Pickens, the other being Gabe. They split, two to each side of the door. A few seconds later, the woman entered.
She didn't waste any time. "In seven hours you'll be departing with these gentlemen, in two vehicles." She pointed to CJ. "You in one." Pointing to Stella she added, "You in the other."
"Where are we going?" CJ said.
She ignored the question. "While you are in the company of these men you will do exactly as you're told; nothing more; nothing less. Stella will be with Sam and Miles. You, Clinton, will be with Rory and Gabe. If either of you fail to do your assigned task, the other will be killed... immediately. They will always be in communications with each other."
"What is our assigned task?" CJ asked.
"You will be given that information on the way to your destination."
"Why us?"
She smiled. "Wrong place, wrong time. You became convenient for our plans."
"And your plans are...?"
"You will be briefed in the vans. Get some sleep." With that she turned and walked out. The men followed, turning off the light and closing the door.
"Seven hours," CJ said to Stella, "Puts it at about three-thirty in the morning. A bit early if we're only going to Tampa, wouldn't you say?"
Stella didn't say anything for a long time. And then, "I think they're wanting us to kill someone."
"Yeah. That's what I'm thinking, too."
Ten minutes went by without either of them saying a word.
Stella said, "Let's go to Hawaii for our honeymoon."
"Sure."
"I'm serious, Clint."
"Okay. You're serious. We'll go to Hawaii."
"Or Alaska. How about we fly to Australia or New Zealand."
"We could do it all. Hawaii, Alaska, Australia and New Zealand."
"I've always wanted to see the blue penguins of New Zealand."
"Blue penguins?" CJ said.
"Yeah. They're just little guys, only a little bigger than this." She held up her water bottle even though CJ could barely see it in the dark. "They're also called fairy penguins. New Zealand is beautiful and I've always wanted to go there. You can ask Sara. We both dreamed of going to New Zealand when we were teenagers. Promise me we'll go to New Zealand for our honeymoon, to Stewart Island."
CJ didn't even want to think about anything but the predicament they were in and what was to take place in the morning. He sort of understood, though, what she was doing. She was trying to shift her mind onto something pleasant, away from what was scaring the hell out of her. It was scaring the hell out of him, too. "Where's Stewart Island?"
"It's off the southern most point of the main island. Promise me we'll go."
"Yes," CJ said, reaching his hand out to her. "We'll go to Stewart Island of New Zealand and walk among the blue penguins."
She took his hand. "Don't even say that to humor me."
"Wouldn't think of it. When we get home let's get it all planned, the wedding and the trip to the bottom of the world."
"Thank you." She went silent for a time and then said, "And before we leave Florida, let's go sailing."
CJ looked in her direction, surprised. "Really?"
"Yes, really. I want to go sailing with you."
He squeezed her hand. "Okay, then. It's a date."
Chapter 39
CJ felt the minutes tick by, all 420 of them he was sure. If anyone ever asked, if he survived that is, he was certain he would be able to honestly tell them that he counted each and every minute. The thought of sleep at no time ever crossed his mind. Occasionally he'd hear a noise and hope that it was Josh and a massive FBI team storming the house. He'd play out the entire scenario in his head and then sigh and listen to the silence.
Stella did sleep, or at least had a dozen or so short naps, snorting herself awake from what appeared to be bad dreams. He wanted so much to hold and comfort her. The way she curled up he often times couldn't even reach her; in the dark he could barely see her.
But who was he trying to kid? He needed her to comfort him.
At 3:10 the lights came on. Sam stood in the doorway.
"Time for potty runs and then we're heading out."
Again the gun holder, Miles, stood at the ready while Sam unlocked Stella from the chain. When she returned from the bathroom he grabbed the handcuff still dangling from her wrist and started to lead her out. She resisted. He turned and looked at her. "Don't even try to get feisty with me, woman. You're outnumbered."
"I don't want to leave my purse."
"It's quite safe here." He gave her a yank.
She allowed two steps and then dug in again. "I have to have it," she whined. "It has..."
"It has what?"
She dropped her head as though embarrassed. CJ had no idea where she was going with her demand, praying she wasn't going to inadvertently reveal that her purse contained a gun.
"I'm... it feels like I'm... starting my period. My... tampons are in there."
"Jesus Christ!" Sam shook his head.
"You don't even want to know what it's like if..."
"Fine," Sam said, holding up his hand. "Miles, grab the purse."
Miles looked down at it as though a tampon was going to suddenly jump out and grab him by the throat.
"It's just a damned purse. Grab it and let's go. And it wouldn't be a bad idea if you took a look in it first."
Miles picked up the purse by the strap and carried it over to the chair where Stella had been sitting. He put his gun away and with thumb and forefinger proceeded to open the flap. CJ held his breath. Stella had demonstrated the purse while they'd stood outside Danohough's apartment the day Eveleen was killed. The gun and holster resided in a secret compartment, accessible only from the side, not the top. It allowed a woman to slip her hand in and slide the SIG Sauer from its holster. He hoped that Miles wasn't smart enough to look anywhere but in the top.
The flap fell back and the iPad appeared. Miles moved it back and forth, revealing her credit cards and driver's license, a change pouch and bill pouch as well as a bunch of receipts. Behind that section was another zippered area where lived her cosmetics and various personal affects. Miles carefully unzipped it, reached in and pulled out a Ziploc bag.
"What's this?" Miles said, holding it up to CJ.
"I believe that's her tampons."
Miles dropped them back in and wiped his hand on his pants.
"She carries only as much as she thinks she might need, thus the Ziploc."
"Glad I'm not a woman." Mile closed the purse and followed after Sam and Stella.
CJ grinned after them until he got to thinking about where they were heading and the fact that he was left wallowing in his darkest fears.
CJ's wallowing was cut short only a few minutes later when Rory and Gabe came in. The procedure was the same as with Stella, except he was allowed to proceed out and down the stairs without being led by the handcuffs. The fact that Stella's purse was accompanying her gave him little comfort. As he got to thinking about it, he was afraid she'd try to make use of it and get herself killed, or someone had already discovered the gun and removed it.
He was led out the front door and down the walk to one of the paneled vans. The other van was already gone. Rory pushed him in and hooked the handcuff to the suicide handle. Interior lights were extinguished, as well as the house exterior lights, so CJ was not able to see what was in the cargo area, if anything at all. Rory climbed into the passenger's seat while Gabe took the wheel.
Gabe guided them out of the residential area to Pinellas Point Drive which took them west and then onto I-275 northbound. After a time CJ recognized the bridge over Old Tampa Bay, the same route on which the FBI agents took him the first night he was here. As they passed back onto dry land, CJ looked off to the left toward the area where he knew Tampa's FBI headquarters resided. He called in his mind. "Hey. Lo
ok here. We're heading somewhere to do some dastardly deed. Are you paying attention?"
With each approaching exit CJ anticipated that Gabe would slow and then direct the van into the city of Tampa and toward wherever the World Center lived. But he never slowed. The only exit he took was a merge onto eastbound I-4, toward Orlando, Tampa city lights receding behind them. At no time did he use excessive speed, often five to ten miles-per-hour below the posted speed limit.
"Where are we going?" CJ asked.
They didn't respond.
"The boss did say I'd be briefed while in route."
Still nothing.
"For some reason I thought that the G8 summit was in Tampa?" CJ watched as the two men turned their heads toward each other. Are they surprised that he knows about the G8 summit? "It's in Orlando then, I assume, or somewhere in that direction."
"We'll be stopping for food soon," Rory said. "You will be told then what you're to do. Don't want you to have to perform on an empty stomach."
"That's very thoughtful. You do know that security at something like this will be extremely high. With presidents and prime ministers attending it'll be crawling with Secret Service and every law enforcement agency within a hundred miles. The chances of getting anywhere close to any of the people attending will be nil to none."
"That's where you're wrong, Mister Washburn," Rory said. "Presidents are not attending this one because it is not a regular summit. Each country is sending an unimportant representative to discuss midyear issues."
"What are they discussing?" CJ asked. "What's on their agenda?"
"Other than next summer's regular summit, their agenda holds no importance."
"Next summer the G8 is meeting in Fermanagh, Northern Ireland. Why not wait until then to do whatever it is you're planning?"
"You're better informed than we thought. Yes, the G8 will be in Fermanagh next year and because it will be attended by heads-of-state, security will indeed be too high. Also, discussions about the future of Northern Ireland may be on the agenda next summer. Now is the time to get our voice heard."
"Do you think anyone will be sympathetic to your cause if you keep killing people?"
"Killing people?" Rory actually sounded shocked. "What gives you the idea that we're going to kill anyone?"
"You're going to a G8 summit with weapons and possibly a chemical agent of some kind. You've already killed two people to protect your mission."
"In a sense, Mister Washburn, this is a war and in war there are going to be casualties. Those two deaths were unfortunate, but necessary."
"I can understand Douglas," CJ said, "but Eveleen Danohough? She's a founder of the United Irish Republican Army."
"Humph! In a weak sense of the word she might have been a founder. She didn't stick around very long, went off on her little coffee business. She talked a big game but to be truthful with you she's always preferred being on the outskirts of things. That would have still been well, but then Douglas O'Reilly showed up, an FBI plant claiming to be her son, and she started going squirrely in the head. Women are just too damned unpredictable."
CJ sat back for a bit thinking about that statement. "So is Eddie Hall Douglas' father?"
"I don't know about that," Rory said. "Don't even know for sure that Douglas was actually Danohough's son. He was undercover. Could have all been lies."
"But Eddie is also a founder of UIRA, isn't he?"
Rory turned forward. "Ten minutes we'll be stopping for food. You'll be briefed then."
So Eddie Hall buffaloed them all, or almost did, CJ thought. He and Stella saw the look on Eddie's face when they talked about Douglas... that of a confused or distraught father, it seemed at the time, or is that what they wanted to see. Could it really be Eddie didn't know that he'd become a father back in 1969 until just recently, maybe only within the last few days? Or maybe he never knew, his distress being over Eveleen's death. Was their relationship not at all new, but rekindled after forty-three years? She had recently asked Eddie to marry her. She'd just gotten her son back and she wanted to reunite the entire family, even if she never told Eddie the truth as to why.
But what if Rory was right? What if Douglas had created the entire "I'm your long lost son" scenario to get on the inside, even going as far as marrying Rebecca to seal the ruse? CJ considered his conversations with Gianna and her sister and decided that most likely, that part of the story was true, the adoption and name change and all.
Still, what if Douglas was chosen by the FBI only because he could fit the part?
And then CJ thought about Stella. Where was she and what was she thinking? If he went crazy right now he could probably cause the van to wreck. If they all died in the wreck there'd be no reason for the others to believe anything more than that Gabe had an accident and they'd have to release Stella and walk away, the mission to kill anyone at the G8 summit terminated. He looked up at the suicide handle, took a grip and calculated how he'd reach Gabe and the steering wheel with his feet in order to send the van into a tumble at seventy miles per hour. But what if instead of letting Stella go before walking away, they kill her first? He was considering the pros and cons when he noticed the van slowing and taking an exit, and then it was too late.
As they swung around an all night McDonald's drive-thru, CJ spotted the other van parked off in a nearby plaza parking lot.
"You say a word you get a bullet," Rory said. "Understood?"
"Yeah," CJ said, relieved to know that Stella was nearby. He sat quietly while Gabe ordered what CJ was sure was his last meal. He wasn't even given a choice.
CJ and Stella sat within view of each other, eating Sausage McMuffins and drinking coffee. They were still inside their respective vans which were parked side by side facing in opposite directions, the side doors open, handcuffs removed. CJ could see her purse on the floor, sandwiched tight between her foot and the wall of the van.
Their captors were able to easily step across the gap between the vans, doing what they needed to do without being viewed by the outside world. CJ sipped his coffee and wondered who would be paying attention to a couple of vans in a parking lot near an all-night McDonalds well before sunrise.
Nobody.
"We're rigging up now," Rory said after hitting speed dial on his cell phone. "Right," he added and then ended the call.
Stella finished her sandwich and picked up her coffee. CJ mouthed "I love you." She mouthed the same back and then turned her head to where Miles had gone, toward the back of her van, out of CJ's view. Suddenly her eyes got big, followed by a look that CJ had never seen on her before, that of pure terror. She nearly dropped the coffee before she got it put into a cup holder. She looked across at CJ, horror still in her eyes.
"What?" he mouthed.
And then Miles appeared with a vest in his hands. CJ didn't know too much about such things, having attended only a basic introduction class while a police officer, but from his point of view it appeared to be outfitted with C4 explosives and wires.
A suicide vest!
Chapter 40
"Here's what we're going to do," Rory said after a second identical vest was pulled out and placed on the floor in front of CJ. "You're going to put these on and do exactly what we tell you."
"Or what?" CJ said.
"Or your fiancée will get a bullet to the head. Having two wearing vests is ideal for the mission, but it can be done with just one."
"After I refuse and you shoot her, I'll still refuse."
"That just means that after this is all over, a couple of us will be taking a road trip out west to Arizona and New Mexico. I'd love to meet your daughter and extend my sympathies as to your untimely death." Rory looked across at Stella. "Same with your sister and her family just outside Albuquerque. Lucas, your nephew, is a cute kid."
For a second CJ thought that Stella was leaning over to reach her purse and envisioned a shootout between her and four well armed men. And then he realized that she was only putting her head between her knees to keep
from getting sick. She lifted her head for a second and looked across to CJ, her face white.
Rory turned back to CJ, who was now glaring at him. "As I was saying, the two of you will put on these vests and do what we tell you. To keep either of you from forming thoughts about doing something crazy, I'll give you one assurance."
"What's that?"
"If everything goes off as planned, there will be no reason to detonate these devices; nor will there be a reason to visit your families."
"Why should we believe you?"
"We're only making a statement today. We have no desire to kill representatives from the seven countries that have nothing to do with the United Kingdom's dirty laundry."
"What's the statement?"
"Not your concern. Put on the vest, Mister Washburn. After yours is on and secured, Ms. Summers will do the same."
CJ carefully slipped on his and then watched as Stella struggled with hers.
"All of this just to make a statement?" he said.
"Sometimes before one makes a statement, one has to make sure he has everyone's attention."
"You don't want your statement swept under the rug."
"Now you're getting the idea, Mister Washburn."
Rory extracted a device from his pocket. It was smaller than a cell phone and had a pull-out antenna. Miles made a final connection on both vests, pushing together a pair of what appeared to be simple audio cables. Then Rory held up his device.
"I need you both to pay attention now," Rory said. "It's hard to see your own, but if you look across at your partner, you'll see a small bulb just under the left breast, like those small Christmas tree bulbs. It's red." He held the device out between them. "When I push this button like this..." he did so, "the bulb lights up." He made a point of looking closely at both vests. "Very good. Your vests are now armed. If I were to push this other button," he showed it to them, "the vests would detonate at the same time. It's good from a thousand yards." The device went into his pocket. "As long as everything goes as it should, this will not come out of my pocket. Just in case, though, should some smart ass get lucky and shoot me in the head, my compatriot, Sam, has an identical device. Either one can do the job."
Sailing into Death (CJ Washburn, PI Book 2) Page 26