by Cap Daniels
Again, over the rim of the glasses. “A living? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Our job is not conducive to family life. Your dad is the perfect example.”
“You’re right about that, but you don’t do this for a living. How much money do you have in the bank?”
He’d never asked about my bank accounts before then, and I’d never volunteered.
“Come on,” he said. “I’m serious. How much? Give me the number.”
I didn’t know where he was going with the conversation, but I had nothing to hide from him. “With the cash Dr. Richter left me, somewhere shy of ten million. Why?”
“Somewhere shy of ten million?” he said. “I also have somewhere shy of ten million in my bank account, but mine is over nine million shy.”
“So, what’s your point?”
“My point is that you don’t do this for a living. You do this for some other reason. Your living is already made, Uggah. You can walk away anytime you want, but you’re planning to sneak into Russia and cut some crazy deal to get your former girlfriend out of prison.”
“It’s not that simple,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “It is that simple.”
We flew the rest of the trip in silence, and I made a textbook landing back in St. Augustine. We pushed the plane into the hangar, and I began mentally measuring the space not occupied by my 182.
“Have you ever flown a P-51?” I asked.
“No, but I’d like to.”
“Dr. Richter left me his Mustang, and I think it’ll fit in here.”
He froze with a look of utter disbelief.
“I know,” I said. “I feel the same.”
“Ten million dollars in the bank and a Mustang,” he said, shaking his head.
“Shy of ten million.”
“I know a guy at the Museum of Aviation in Tennessee who has a couple thousand hours in Mustangs. I’m sure I can get him to come down and give us the instruction we’ll need in your new toy.”
“Great,” I said. “Let’s give him a call when we get back.”
* * *
When we made it back to the boat, I called Skipper. “Hey, there. How’s the analyst training going?”
“Oh, my gosh, Chase. It’s amazing! You can’t imagine all there is to learn. It’s so much, but Ginger is an awesome teacher.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I said.
“Oh, it’s the best. I’m going to rock at this.”
“That’s fantastic. Listen, I need to talk with Ginger. Is she there?”
“Sure. She’s writing some code to task satellites without their operators knowing we’re borrowing them. It’s so cool. Hang on.”
Ginger came on the line. “Hey, Chase. How’s it going?”
“I’m great. Skipper tells me she’s enjoying what you’re teaching her.”
“Yeah, she’s eating it up, and she’s really good at it. She’s got all the right stuff to be better than me before long.”
“That’s high praise coming from you,” I said.
“She deserves it. You’re going to have one hell of an analyst on your hands when I’m done with her.”
“I have no doubt, but I need a favor before then.”
“Sure. Name it.”
“I can’t discuss it on the phone. Is there any chance you could come to St. Augustine?”
Her keystrokes sounded like machine-gun fire. “Yep, sure can. We’re booked on the six o’clock flight into Jax tonight. Can you pick us up?”
“Thanks, Ginger. I’ll send a car for you, and I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, and bring your laptop.”
* * *
Skipper and Ginger stepped from the blacked-out Chevy Suburban in Old Town St. Augustine and headed for Aegis. Skipper’s nearly six-foot frame towered over Ginger, who was barely five feet tall. Had her genetics given her the height, she would have been a supermodel to rival anyone who’d ever worn Victoria Secret angel wings. Ginger was one of the most incredibly beautiful redheads who’d ever walked the Earth. But neither her tiny stature nor her beauty was the most incredible thing about her—she had the intellect of Einstein and a set of computer skills that was far deadlier than I’d ever be with a rifle.
Skipper came bouncing onto the boat and leapt into my arms. She gave Clark the same treatment and couldn’t stop talking about how much she loved learning from Ginger.
When the excitement of the homecoming had waned, it was time to get down to business.
“So, what’s this top-secret favor you can’t discuss on the phone?” asked Ginger.
I began laying out my plan. “It’s pretty simple. We’re going to pick up a Russian SVR officer from the Israelis and fly her to Helsinki. Then we’re going to smuggle her into Latvia aboard a fishing boat.”
Ginger stuck out her bottom lip. “I hope this gets better. So far, a ten-year-old could support that mission.”
“Oh, it gets better,” I said. “We’re going to stuff the SVR officer in a safe house in Riga and take the train to Moscow.”
She held up her hand. “Whoa. You’re just going to hop on the train and ride it into Moscow? You and Clark? American spies?”
I was tired of denying being a spy, so I let it go. “Well, we don’t plan to let anyone know we’re on the train.”
“Oh, okay. That’s reasonable. Go on.”
“This is where it gets interesting. We’re going to break into Gregor Norikov’s house. He’s a former Communist Party bigwig who happens to be the father of the SVR officer we’re going to stash in Riga.” Ginger nodded as I kept talking. “We’re going to convince him to release Anya from the Black Dolphin Prison in return for his daughter’s safe return to Moscow.”
“Sounds reasonable,” she said, “but who’s Anya?”
I wasn’t sure where to start, but I finally made it through a twenty-minute explanation about who Anya was and how she ended up in the prison.
Ginger narrowed her eyes. “Does Penny know what you’re doing?”
“She does.”
“And is she okay with it?”
I pursed my lips. “I’m not sure if she’s okay with the whole thing, but she does understand.”
“Hmm.”
“So, will you help us?”
Her eyes narrowed even more. “Yeah, I’ll help you, but only on one condition.”
“Name it,” I said.
“When this is done, you put a ring on it.”
“Put a ring on what?”
“Penny’s left hand.”
Clark shrugged. “I told you, Uggah.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He laughed. “Just be glad you didn’t go to South Carolina, ’cause then I’d be calling you Cocky.”
I ignored him. “So, here’s what we need. A safe house with a dependable team in or near Riga, Norikov’s address in Moscow, and a ride home when this is over.”
Ginger pulled a spiral notepad from her pocket and scribbled inside. “How about an airplane for the ride from Tel-Aviv to Helsinki?”
“Yeah,” I said, “we’ll need that, too.”
She made another note. “How about a boat from Helsinki to Riga? Do you have that lined up yet?”
“Well, not exactly,” I admitted.
She made another note and tossed the pad to Skipper. “Do you have any more questions?”
“No,” I said. “That’s all.”
Ginger shook her head. “No, Chase. I wasn’t talking to you. I want to know if Skipper has any questions. This one’s hers. I’m just going to look over her shoulder.”
Skipper grinned. “I do have one question. Do the Israelis know you’re coming to get their prisoner?”
I cocked my head. “I never said she was a prisoner.”
“Come on, Chase. I may be new at this, but even I know Mossad doesn’t run a bed-and-breakfast. If they have this chick and you’re gonna trade her for Anya, she’s a prisoner. So, do they know you’re coming for her, or not?”
“Okay, then,” she said. “That’s one more thing you need: a note from mommy to check Little Miss SVR out of school early.”
I smiled. “You are learning. How much time do you need?”
“I’ll need forty-eight hours”—Skipper glanced at Ginger—“but she could do it in, like, eighteen.”
“How about we do it together, and you give us twenty-four?” Ginger said.
“Perfect. Twenty-four hours, it is,” I said. “We’ll book a flight to Tel-Aviv and—”
Skipper cut me off. “No, dummy. Don’t book a flight to Tel-Aviv. I’ll book you a flight to Cyprus, and then you can catch a local flight into Tel-Aviv.”
She was definitely a quick study.
“So, how about some dinner?” I suggested.
Skipper shook her head, “No, we don’t have time for that. Just get us a pizza and get out of our way. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
I ordered the pizza and motioned for Clark to join me on the upper deck, where we made ourselves comfortable.
“How do you feel?”
“I’m good,” Clark said. “I think your plan is solid, and it’ll be a great learning opportunity for Elizabeth.”
“I’ll never be able to stop calling her Skipper,” I said.
“I know, but she asked me to call her Elizabeth, so that’s what I’ll do.”
I motioned toward a bottle of scotch on the counter, but Clark shook his head. I could almost hear Anya saying, “You drink too much, Chase Fulton.” I scratched at my chin. “What do you think the chances are of this working?”
He held up his hands. “Maybe twenty percent. There’s a lot that can go wrong.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need a plan B.”
“We’re going to need a plan Z,” he said.
We discussed the operation and finally decided a good night’s sleep would be the best option. On our way through the main salon, we found Ginger and Skipper poring over plans and devouring the pizza.
“Good night, guys. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Neither woman acknowledged me, and I thought that was a great sign. We would be in good hands.
* * *
Sleep didn’t come as I’d hoped it would. I lay in bed, and the thousands of things that could go wrong flooded my mind.
What if we get caught operating inside Russia—in Moscow, no less? Will we end up sharing a cell with Anya?
There were too many bad what-ifs that ended with both Clark and me in a Russian prison. I wondered whether the operation was worth the risk.
* * *
My brain must’ve endured all the self-torture it could stand, because I obviously drifted off at some point. The sun was coming up. I crawled from my bunk and headed for the galley to start a pot of coffee and found Skipper and Ginger still parked at the table in the main salon. Their laptops hummed, and spiral-bound notebooks were scattered everywhere. Maps of Eastern Europe were taped to the windows, with hastily drawn arcs in yellow highlighter spanning the width of the paper. I wondered where they’d come up with such maps overnight. When I reached the coffee, I was pleased to see a fresh pot had just been brewed, and I morphed into a waiter.
“Good morning, guys. Would you like some coffee?”
Without a word, they shoved empty mugs toward the edge of the table. I took that to mean yes and filled both cups.
“What are those yellow lines on the maps?” I asked.
“Satellite tracks,” came their dual response.
“It’s going to be yucky. Overcast and snowing for the next two weeks,” Skipper said, “so there won’t be any live satellite photography. We’ll be supporting you blind.”
“How about a drone?”
Ginger looked at Skipper as if to say “Why didn’t you think of that?” and then typed feverishly on her keyboard.
“That could work,” she whispered, “but you’ll have to hump it in with you.”
“How big is it, and how much does it weigh?” I asked.
She pulled up a data sheet and scanned it. “Less than five pounds, but the batteries weigh almost a pound each. It’ll break down no bigger than a shoebox, but that’s still a lot of extra cargo.”
Clark came stumbling up the stairs and headed straight for the coffee pot.
“You look like you got as much sleep as I did,” I said.
“Yeah, it was a tough night. I couldn’t stop thinking about what could go wrong.”
I laughed. “Great minds think alike.”
“Yeah, I guess we’re like peas and carrots, but I’m not sure my mind qualifies as great.”
“Which one of us is the pea, and which is the carrot?” I asked.
“Does it matter?” he said. “They both turn to crap after they get swallowed up.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” I admitted.
“Can you guys take your act somewhere else? We’ve still got a lot of work to do here,” Ginger said.
We silently obeyed, refilled our mugs, and headed for the upper deck.
It was a glorious October morning on the Matanzas River. The Bridge of Lions drawbridge was on its way up as a tugboat headed north. A pair of sailboats took advantage of the open bridge and followed the tug. I wondered whether the sailors had a destination in mind or if they were simply enjoying the freedom of living on the wind.
My phone chirped, and I pulled it from my pocket to discover a voicemail from Penny. I hadn’t heard it ring. I pushed the button and listened. “Hey, it’s me. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and what you’re doing is important, so I want you to know that even though I don’t understand what you’re doing or why you’re doing it, I’m still proud of you for being the man you are. I also want you to know that I’m lucky to be your girlfriend, and I can’t wait for you to get home. I really love you, Chase. Okay. Bye.”
“That must’ve been Penny,” said Clark.
“How did you know?”
“She’s the only person who makes you smile like that.”
I thought about what he’d said and wondered how difficult it was for her to stick with me, especially when I was heading to Russia to negotiate the release of my former girlfriend.
“Yeah, it was her,” I admitted. “I’m just not sure what I did to deserve her, you know?”
Clark sipped his coffee. “You don’t deserve her. She’s way too good for you. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“It has to be done,” I said, “but I’ve given what you said a lot of thought.”
“I say a lot of stuff,” he said. “Which thing are we talking about?”
I looked out over the river as the claxon rang, signaling the drawbridge was on its way back down. “About quitting.”
He put on that crooked, knowing smile of his and raised his mug in an unspoken salute.
“I’m thinking about taking a break when we get back,” I said.
“A break? You live on a break. Your whole life is a vacation that’s occasionally interrupted by work, you playboy. What kind of break are you planning?”
I finished my last drink of coffee. “I thought I might go back to school.”
He scoffed. “School, indeed. What are you going to do, become a professor and fill young minds full of wisdom and insight?”
I reached for his mug and stood. “Maybe.”
* * *
When I returned from the galley, he asked, “How are they coming along down there?”
“I’m afraid to ask, but they seem to be tidying up the rat’s nest they built overnight.”
“Good. I’m going to grab a shower, and then we need to get the ball rolling.”
He descended the ladder, leaving me alone with my thoughts on the upper deck. It didn’t surprise me that my brain went immediately to Penny. I pulled my phone from my pocket and pressed the speed-dial key.
“Good morning,” she answered in her sleepy voice. “Have you guys left yet?”
>
“No, we’re still on the boat, but we’ll be leaving later today.”
“Promise me you’ll come back.” The helplessness in her voice made her sound like a frightened child.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I said. “We’re just going to have a conversation with a Russian bureaucrat. There’s nothing dangerous about this one.”
“You promised you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. We’re simply going to talk with the guy. I’m sure he can be rational.”
“I’m not worried about the guy,” she said, “and I’m not worried that you’ll get hurt.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
“I’m worried that you won’t come back to me,” she whispered. “I know what effect she has on you.”
“Not anymore,” I said confidently.
“That’s easy to say when you’re sitting on your boat and talking with me, but will it still be true when she runs into your arms after you spring her from that prison?”
“I’ll never see her,” I said. “I’ll negotiate the trade—Norikov’s daughter for Anya’s release. Once that’s done, I’ll be on a plane and headed back home to you.”
“Things always go wrong. Isn’t that what you said? No mission ever goes precisely as planned.”
“Yes,” I admitted, “I did say that, but I can’t imagine a scenario that could result in me ever seeing Anya again. And even if I did, I could never trust her. I’m not going to risk what you and I have for anything. I’m in love with you, and I’ll always come home to you.”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I love you, too, Chase.”
We were both silent, unsure of what to say next, until she broke the pause.
“Teri and Kip are coming to Miami this afternoon to meet with a yacht broker. It’ll be great to see them.”
“That’s fantastic news,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time. Give them my best, and I’ll call you before I leave this afternoon.”
As soon as I hung up, a cry came from down below. “Chase, get down here! We’ve got a plan!”
Chapter 12
Bulldog
Skipper briefed the plan, with Ginger occasionally jumping in with a detail or two. Clark and I sat in silence, listening to Skipper’s first real-world mission brief. Her plan was solid, and after an hour of Q&A, we were headed for the airport. Aegis would become the tactical operations center for the mission that I hoped would be a quick in and out. The plan was clean, and I had every reason to believe the execution would be just as tidy.