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The Distant Chase

Page 5

by Cap Daniels


  My phone became a bottomless pit of utter silence for several seconds, or perhaps minutes. I couldn’t tell the difference.

  “I’ll be there in four hours,” he said, and the line went dead.

  * * *

  I felt Aegis move slightly under Clark’s boot when he stepped aboard.

  “Okay, let’s hear it,” he said.

  I didn’t expect “Hi, honey, I’m home,” but I also didn’t think he’d instantly jump to the point.

  “Remember the morning in Birmingham?” I began. “We were in the rental car on that bizarre quest for scotch, and you were asleep in the back seat.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I remember. Penny scored a bottle from a restaurant bar while the sun was still coming up.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “When we made it back to the hospital and parked, we saw Anya through the window in Dr. Richter’s hospital room, but by the time we could get to the room, she was gone, and he was dead.”

  Clark settled onto the settee without a word, and Penny put a tumbler of whiskey in each of our hands.

  He studied the honey-colored liquid. “Why would she kill him? I mean, what does she have to gain by him being dead?”

  Penny beat me to the punch. “Over two million dollars.”

  Clark wrinkled his brow and stared at me.

  “Richter had over two million bucks, and he left it all to me.”

  “I’m not following,” he said. “What does that have to do with Anya?”

  “She’s his only heir,” I said.

  Clark dropped his chin and swirled his drink. “I’m not buying it. What would she do with that much money? Run back home to Mother Russia and live a life of luxury?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t think she wants to go back to Russia. I think she wants to live here in America or maybe the Caribbean. With that kind of money, she could vanish from everyone’s radar and live out the rest of her life almost anywhere she wanted.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. I’m still not buying it. You tried to give her that option, and she didn’t take it. What’s changed?”

  “A lot has changed. First, she’s underground now, living on the run. She has no support, no home, no income. She’s completely rogue.”

  “How do you know?” said Penny. “How do you know she’s not getting paid? Maybe she’s still on somebody’s payroll. Maybe she’s not rogue at all. If you go at this thing with the wrong assumptions up front, and if she’s as dangerous as you say, this could turn into—as you like to say—a train wreck in a swamp.”

  Penny had a knack for seeing through bullshit, and I was learning to listen when her BS alarm started going off.

  “What do we know?” I said. “Let’s list the things we’re sure of.”

  Clark began. “We know she escaped a CIA safe house in Virginia after killing her highly trained team of babysitters, and we know she killed Michael Anderson on Cumberland Island.”

  Penny said, “It’s starting to sound like killing people is all she does. I think the two of you are pretty lucky to have escaped her web unscathed.”

  “We didn’t,” said Clark. “She cut your boyfriend’s tongue in half, and she would’ve cut his hand off if it hadn’t been for the spare parts in his wrist that aren’t so easy to slice with a fighting knife.”

  Penny glared at me and pursed her lips. I couldn’t tell if she was angry because I hadn’t told her, or if she was just thankful I was alive.

  “It wasn’t as dramatic as he makes it sound,” I said in a poorly executed attempt to change the subject. “I’m not so sure you’re right about what happened in Virginia. We believe that was her, but we don’t know for sure. All we know for sure is that there was a pile of dead bodies in the attic and a missing chopper.”

  Clark nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, but the thing on Cumberland Island had to be her.”

  “I think so, too. Skipper got a good look at her, and there’s no question that was Anya’s knife sticking out of Michael Anderson’s back.”

  “We also know she was in Birmingham and that she was the last person to see Dr. Richter alive,” said Penny. “And how did she end up in a CIA safe house? I didn’t even know they were real. I thought they were only in movies.”

  Once again, I was impressed. Penny was asking all the right questions.

  I said, “That’s a giant piece of the puzzle we don’t have. We have no idea how or why she ended up in that safe house…if that was actually her. Oh, and safe houses are very real, by the way.”

  “I have so much to learn,” she said, “but don’t you think that might be a pretty important piece of the puzzle?”

  I locked eyes with Clark. “If anybody knows, it’s Michael Pennant.”

  Clark scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t think they’ll be rolling out the red carpet for you at Langley after your last visit with DDO Pennant.”

  I had made an ass of myself at a security checkpoint in CIA headquarters to get in to see Michael Pennant, the Deputy Director of Operations. Pennant had worked his way up through the ranks at the CIA, starting as an operative in the clandestine services. He’d been legendary as a field agent, but as a deputy director, I believed he’d become little more than a bureaucrat. Regardless, he was a bureaucrat with vaults full of secrets, and I needed to peek inside.

  “Maybe I should take him flowers and chocolates this time,” I said.

  Penny slugged my arm. “Hey, I like chocolates and flowers.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I laughed, “but you’re not part of the CIA hierarchy.”

  “Are you sure?” she hissed.

  “At this point, nothing about you could surprise me.”

  I sipped my cocktail and started devising a plan. Plans are important, but in my experience, the ability to make decisions on the fly and adapt to ever-changing environments was more important. Pennant would never tell me the truth about Anya. He wasn’t in the truth business. Even though he wore a suit and tie and sat behind a mahogany desk, he was still a clandestine services operative when it came to divulging secrets. I had to come up with a way to get the information I needed out of him.

  As the ice in my glass rattled with the whiskey long gone, my phone chirped.

  “Hello, this is Chase.”

  “Mr. Fulton, what have you done?”

  “I’m sorry?” I said. “Who is this?”

  “This is Sister Mary Robicheaux, and I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but thank you, thank you, thank you and God bless you.”

  “Sister Mary, I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Mr. Fulton, Congresswoman D’Angelo delivered a check for one million dollars from the D’Angelo Family Foundation to Saint Francis School today. Whatever you did, you’re an angel!”

  “I’m no angel, Sister.”

  “Well, whatever you are, you’re a godsend, Mr. Fulton. The million-dollar donation isn’t the best part. That demon son of hers is gone, too.”

  “What are you saying, Sister?”

  “When the Congresswoman made the announcement about donating to my school, she also stated that her son would be going to work for the family foundation in Italy. I’ll never be able to thank you enough, Mr. Fulton. I want to know what you did, but you’ll never tell me, will you?”

  “I’m just a sailboat bum, Sister. I live on my boat and stay out of people’s business. I’m glad your situation has worked itself out.”

  “You’re an angel,” she said as I hung up the phone.

  “What was that about?” asked Penny.

  “That was some nun from Saint Francis going on about a million-dollar donation and some congresswoman announcing that her son was going to work for the family foundation in Italy. It must’ve been a wrong number.”

  The first things I ever found beautiful about Penny were her infectious smile and enthusiasm for everything. Both came flooding back, yanking her from the drudgery of our conversation. She sprang to her feet and leapt onto my lap. I
could feel the excitement and energy in her body as she flung her arms around me and pressed her lips to mine. Her innocence and joy were irresistible.

  “Is this how it always feels for you?” she squealed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is it always this exciting when you finish a mission and you know the good guys have won?”

  I glanced at Clark. He was shaking his head again.

  “No,” I said. “It’s almost never like this. We go in, do a job, and get out. No one ever really knows what we’ve done. The world just continues to turn, and people are none the wiser.”

  “But what you do is important. I mean, you’re like saving the world and stuff, right?”

  “No,” I said, “we just do our job and move on to the next one.”

  “So, this must feel great to you then—getting to see how you’ve made such a difference.”

  “Actually, it makes me a little nervous. I’d rather be anonymous.”

  “Me, too,” echoed Clark. “In our business, publicity is a bad thing.”

  Penny furrowed her brow. “But it has to feel good knowing you’ve done so much good for so many people.”

  “It does feel good,” I admitted, “but the things we do aren’t the kinds of things that should end up on the evening news.”

  “I get that, but I’m really proud of you for this one.”

  I smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I just drove the boat. That’s all.”

  “Oh, you did far more than just drive the boat, but as I’m sure you already know, we can’t talk about what we did with anyone other than the three of us.”

  “Of course, I know that,” she said.

  Clark cleared his throat. “I hate to break up this little Spies Like Us party, but we need to get back on track.”

  Penny sighed. “Oh, yeah. Her.”

  “Yes, her,” I said. “If we can get in to see Pennant, maybe we’ll be able to get some answers out of him.”

  “Before we go running off to Washington to stir the pot, I think it would be a good idea to get my dad in the loop, don’t you?”

  Clark’s father, Dominic Fontana, was my handler. My mission assignments came through him, and I was supposed to coordinate almost everything I did with him, but I’d never been good at asking permission.

  “Yeah, you’re right, but I don’t think he’ll be too supportive of what I have in mind.”

  Clark lifted his eyebrows. “You might be surprised.”

  “Don’t you think a face-to-face would be better than a phone call?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Can I come?” asked Penny.

  The thought of inviting her further into my professional world terrified me. Everyone inside the circle eventually gets hurt…or worse. Penny was quickly becoming more than just the girl I was sharing a bunk with. I still wasn’t sold on the whole two-kids-and-a-black-lab idea, but the initial desire and fascination I had for her had morphed into respect, and I couldn’t deny the fact that I had fallen completely in love with her.

  “Sure, you can come, but you’ll have to spend the day on the beach or shopping in Miami while Clark and I meet with Dominic. Are you okay with that?”

  She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed. “Oh, my. How’s a girl ever supposed to cope with the horrible prospect of sunning on South Beach and shopping on the Miracle Mile? When do we leave?”

  Clark and I simultaneously said, “Ten minutes.”

  Penny vanished into the interior and soon emerged with her hair in a ponytail and a duffle bag across her shoulder.

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Get ready to go so quickly?”

  “South Beach, shopping, trip with two hot guys. How could I not be ready lickety-split?”

  “That reminds me,” Clark said. “Do you remember Lieutenant Joanna Grayson from D.C.?”

  A former army captain for whom Clark had worked while he was on active duty had hooked us up with a pair of photo analysts while we were on a mission in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. One of the analysts was a stunning beauty who had left Clark stumbling over his tongue.

  I laughed. “Yeah, I remember Duchess. She’s the only woman I’ve ever seen turn you into a blabbering teenager.”

  He blushed. “Yeah, whatever. I see what Penny does to you, Romeo, so don’t go making fun of me.”

  “Penny’s never made me forget my name.”

  Before Clark could defend himself further, Penny whispered, “I’ll make you forget more than just your name next time I get you alone.”

  It was my turn to blush.

  “Anyway,” he said. “She came down to Virginia Beach for a couple of days while I was home, and I sort of may have invited her to come down to St. Augustine and hang out on the boat. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Of course it’s okay,” I said. “That’s great.”

  “Ooh”—Penny pinched Clark’s cheeks—“I look forward to meeting the girl who can turn the great playboy Clark Johnson into mush.”

  Chapter 8

  Did You Hit a Bus?

  We ran through the preflight inspection and soon had my Cessna 182 headed south along the eastern coast of Florida. Penny asked if she could ride up front, and Clark quickly agreed.

  “I’ll catch a nap in the back seat on the way down,” he said. “I stayed up all night worrying about what kind of trouble you two had gotten into.”

  I’d come to think of Clark as part cat. He rarely missed an opportunity to enjoy a nap, even though he liked to brag about how little sleep Green Berets needed.

  It turned out that I’d been wrong when I’d made the statement that nothing more about Penny could surprise me.

  “Can I fly?” she asked somewhere south of Daytona.

  “Sure,” I said. “Just hold the yoke with one hand, and keep your eyes on the horizon. Turn left to go left and right to go right. If the horizon appears to be falling, that means you’re pulling on the yoke. Simply push it back forward to lower the nose. Okay?”

  She smiled and placed a gentle hand on the yoke. I kept my feet on the rudder pedals to help coordinate any turns she might make, but as it turned out, that wasn’t necessary. She handled the plane like an old pro.

  “You’ve done this before,” I said.

  She moved the microphone boom away from her lips, leaned toward me, and kissed me on the cheek. “I love surprising you.”

  “When did you learn to fly?”

  “In high school,” she said. “I told you my dad was a salesman for a liquor distributor. He and I took flying lessons together, and then he bought a Mooney. His sales territory was huge, so the plane made it easier for him to get to his customers without driving all over Texas every week. He got his instrument rating, but I just got my private license and only flew a couple hundred hours.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve flown?”

  “Oh, maybe ten years. It’s been so long, I don’t even know where my logbook is anymore.”

  “Well, you clearly haven’t lost your touch.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe it’s like riding a bike.”

  I motioned toward the back seat. “You know, Sleeping Beauty back there is an instructor, so he can get you current again. It’ll be nice to have another pilot in the family.”

  Her radiant smile reappeared. “I like that.”

  “What? Getting back in the air?”

  “No, silly. I like that you think of me as part of the family.”

  * * *

  Just over three hours after taking off from St. Augustine, we put the gear down and turned onto the final approach leg into the airport. Clark slept almost the entire time, but Penny bounced her landing just enough to get his attention.

  Clark sprang from his fetal position on the back seat. “Did you hit a bus?”

  “No, it was just a little bounce,” I said. “That was her first landing in ten years or so.�
��

  He wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, this is Key Largo. I thought we were going to Miami.”

  “We are,” I said, “but it’s been a while since I’ve seen my car. I’d like to take it back to St. Augustine with us.”

  “Good idea.”

  Penny taxied us to the parking apron, and my old friend, Hank, came strolling onto the ramp in his typical laid-back style.

  “Chase! How’s it goin’, young man? It’s been too long!”

  I shook Hank’s hand and introduced him to Penny. His eyes met mine with inquisition.

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  Hank had adored Anya…and every other beautiful Eastern European woman he’d ever seen.

  “I’ve come to pick up my car, if it’s still here.”

  “Sure, sure. It’s right where you left it. I crank it every couple of weeks to make sure the battery isn’t going dead. It should be ready to go.”

  “Is there a bathroom inside?” Penny asked.

  “Yeah.” Hank pointed the way. “Just right in there on the left. Make yourself at home.”

  As Penny walked away, Hank said, “What happened to Anya? You didn’t run her off, did you?”

  “No, nothing like that. She wasn’t who I thought she was, so she moved on.”

  Hank raised his eyebrows. “They’re all more than they appear on the surface, son.”

  “Yeah, well, in Anya’s case, the surface pretended to be red, white, and blue, but there was still a pretty big emphasis on the red, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ah, she still had some love for the motherland.”

  “To put it mildly,” I said.

  “Well, in that case, I’d say you’ve upgraded. That one going there sounds as Southern as grits and gravy. I doubt you’ll have to worry about her waving a hammer and sickle.”

  “I think you’re right, Hank. She’s quite a catch.”

  He patted me on the back. “You go check on your car, and I’ll get the fuel truck. You want me to top her off?”

  “You don’t fool me, old man,” I said. “You’re going in there to flirt with my girl. You keep your hands to yourself.”

  He raised his hands in mock innocence. “Why, I never!”

  My car was just as I had left it beneath two enormous palm trees. I pulled off the fitted cover as Clark and Penny showed up.

 

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