Kill Devil

by Mike Dellosso

  Lilly looked at her father. This time she would see only sincerity emanating from his eyes.

  “You said at the end of all our questions, we need to trust God. So let’s do just that. Don’t try to carry any of this yourself. We both need to let God be strong for us. We’ll be together as a family again soon. Okay? I promise.”

  She released him and smiled. “Okay. I can’t wait.”

  He forced a smile even as a tear slipped down his cheek. “Me too.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  • • •

  Jed was led to yet another room where Murphy awaited him. This room was more comfortably furnished. It had carpeting covering the entire floor, a gray metal office desk in one corner, and a row of three narrow bookshelves in another corner, all made of the same gray metal. There was also a wooden table and three chairs against the far wall.

  Murphy sat in one of the chairs, his legs crossed. He wore gray slacks and a white shirt, no tie.

  “All set, Patrick?” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For your mission.”

  “What’s the mission?”

  “We’ll get to the details later.” Murphy uncrossed his legs and stood. He moved across the room and passed Jed. By the door, two armed men stood guard. Murphy waved them off and shut the door behind them. “Have a seat.”

  “I’ll stand, thanks.” Jed rarely sat in these situations. Sitting made him vulnerable, small, and put him at a disadvantage.

  “Very well. We need you to take a little trip with us.”

  “A trip.”

  “Yes. Across the country. North Carolina’s Outer Banks.”

  “What’s there?”

  “The Wright brothers.”

  Jed stared at Murphy. He had no idea where the man was going with this and didn’t appreciate him being so cryptic about it.

  Murphy paced the room, hands in his pockets, as he spoke. “In 1903, December 17, the Wright brothers made the first flight in their powered airplane. That moment changed the course of human history. You understand why, of course. It changed travel. Opened up all kinds of new doors for moving people from one place to another. It changed the world as it had been known for thousands of years. That happened along the beaches of the Outer Banks. Do you know where we’re going?”

  Jed said nothing. Best just to let the man talk.

  “Kill Devil,” Murphy said. He stopped pacing and faced Jed. “Don’t you just love the name? It’s actually Kill Devil Hills. Did you know the name has nothing to do with the devil? Kill Devil is what the English called rum. Scavengers used to take the rum from grounded ships and hide it in the tall sand dunes. Hence the name Kill Devil Hills.” Murphy waved his hand and began pacing again. “But you didn’t ask for a history lesson. The point is, Kill Devil Hills is where the Wright Brothers Memorial is located. Have you ever been there?”

  Jed shook his head.

  “It’s a beautiful place. The Atlantic on one side, the Albemarle Sound on the other. Wind’s always blowing. It’s where the course of human history will change once again.” He stopped and stared at Jed. “And you, Jedidiah Patrick, will be the one to change it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  “It has to do with Connelly.”

  Murphy smiled. “From now on, everything has to do with Connelly.”

  “And if I refuse to go along with any of this?” Jed was bluffing and knew Murphy saw right through it.

  “You won’t,” Murphy said.

  “You seem sure about that.”

  “I am sure about it. You love your daughter and wife too much.”

  Jed took a step toward Murphy. “If you do anything to harm them . . .”

  Jed’s advance didn’t seem to faze Murphy. “Stop with the tough guy stuff, Patrick. We won’t harm them. But you will, by not complying. If anything happens to them, it will be squarely on your shoulders because you could have prevented it.”

  “Where will they be?”

  “They’ll both be going with us. Karen will accompany you the entire time. Lilly will stay with us.” He shrugged. “You understand. I want you to succeed at this, and I think you see our side of the predicament now. But just in case you get cold feet, we need some insurance.”

  Lilly was being held hostage and the ransom was whatever they wanted it to be. His mind ran through a dozen options for escape, but they all ended poorly. This wasn’t like Centralia. Different circumstances, different stakes. Different risks.

  “Okay,” he said. “How will it go down?”

  “We’ll fill you in on all the details when we get there. Just know you’re doing the right thing.”

  Jed took a deep breath. It might not be the right thing, but it was the only thing he could do.

  • • •

  Tiffany had no idea what had happened to Jack. She’d tried calling his phone several times but was pushed to voice mail every time. Night fell and she retreated to the shelter, wondering if he was even still alive. Maybe they’d gotten to him, found him in a vulnerable position, ambushed him in his office. She’d heard nothing on the news from the TV in the shelter, but that didn’t mean nothing had happened. Finally in the early morning she’d texted him a simple message: Nam 1900. He would know what it meant.

  Now she stood along the wall of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, near the angle, trying to look natural. She read some of the names, traced a few with her finger. To her, they were just names engraved in stone, but they represented so much more. Each was a life that was lost, sacrificed, taken from a family, from friends. They were names of those who fought and died for freedom and the pursuit of it.

  Freedom. She let the word resonate through her mind. It was such a powerful concept, so foreign to some and held so dearly to many others. Behind her and around her, tourists milled about, pausing here and there to read names, to talk quietly. Most knew nothing of the real cost of freedom. They were spectators in the battle, partakers of its fruits but needing to sacrifice little themselves. Occasionally someone would approach the wall and place a small flower by it. They had experienced the price, paid it with the blood of a loved one. After all these years, the pain and grief for some was still so raw.

  Her thoughts then went to Jedidiah Patrick. She knew nothing of the man other than the fact that he’d served his country as an Army Ranger and now was being used as a tool for the nefarious intentions of some. She wondered what kind of action Sergeant Patrick had seen, how many lives he’d taken, how many times he’d narrowly escaped death. She wondered if he had a family, a wife, maybe children. Who was he, really?

  “Deep in thought?”

  Tiffany spun around and found Jack standing behind her, dressed in baggy jeans and a pullover Georgetown University sweatshirt with a wide brim hat pulled low to his forehead.

  Tiffany looked him up and down. “Nice hat.”

  Jack kept his hands in his pockets. “Works for me.” He quickly surveyed the area. “Two vehicles chased me yesterday. Feds. Black SUVs.”

  “That was obvious, wasn’t it?”

  “They wanted it to be obvious. They were sending a message. I didn’t tell you that they ransacked my house, did I?”

  Tiffany tilted her head to the side. “No, you left that detail out yesterday. Another message?”

  Jack nodded, pulled the brim of his hat even lower. “We need to get out of town, go somewhere off the grid until we figure this out.”

  “I am off the grid,” Tiffany said. “You need to come to the shelter with me.”

  Jack grinned. “I don’t do shelters, Tiffany. I was thinking more like a cabin in the woods or a shack by the ocean. Someplace away from people, from cameras, from eyes.”

  “You got any friends? Anyone who might own a cabin somewhere, a beach house, anything?”

  “It doesn’t pay to have friends in this town. I had one.”

  Her dad. Jack’s only friend . . . and Tiffany’s.

  “I hope you have a pl
an.”

  “Of course I have one. When I was a kid, my dad had an uncle who owned a condo on Maryland’s Chesapeake shore, near Cambridge. We used to go there every summer for a few days. The uncle died and passed the home to his son. His son died last year and passed the place to his son.”

  “So what, like your third cousin or something?”

  “Something like that. Doesn’t matter. His name’s Fred Lauer; he’s a machinist and professor at a community college in Baltimore. He only uses the home during the summer. It’ll be empty.”

  “And you remember where it is?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “When was the last time you talked to Fred?”

  “It’s been a few years.”

  She leaned in. “How many years?”

  “We were both in high school.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Like forty years ago?”

  “Thirty-six.”

  “Whatever. How do you know he even still owns the home? Maybe he sold it. And how do you know he only uses it during the summer?”

  “My mom kept me up to speed with family news.”

  “Thank your mom next time you see her.”

  Jack paused. “She died ten years ago.”

  “Oh, sorry. So when did she tell you about Cousin Fred and his condo?”

  “Ten years ago.”

  “Like I said, how do you know he still owns it?”

  Jack glanced at her, then went back to scanning the surrounding area of the memorial. “I have my ways.”

  “Right. You work for the CIA.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  He paused, held his gaze on a middle-aged man in a T-shirt and cargo pants. “I have to get back to my office for some things. I’ll meet you at the condo tomorrow at 0400.” He handed her a slip of paper with an address on it.

  “Four in the morning?”

  “It’s still dark; neighbors are still sleeping.”

  “Got it. And how am I supposed to get there?” She’d parked her car in a public lot after the intrusion at her apartment. They both knew she couldn’t use it, though. Someone would be watching it, waiting for her to return to it.

  “You’re a smart girl. Figure something out.” He handed her a wad of twenties and winked.

  She took the money and stuffed it into her pocket. “Thanks.”

  “Just blend in,” he said.

  “It’s what I do best.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  • • •

  Several hours after Jed’s meeting with Murphy, he and Karen were led by four armed men to the ground level of the prison. Murphy was nowhere in sight; neither was Lilly. The main cell area was empty, vacated hours ago with the last tour of the day. The windows were dark, and only the scattered security bulbs lit the interior of the building, giving the aging prison an eerily vacant feel. Karen took Jed’s hand and squeezed it.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  “Where’s Lilly?”

  “I don’t know. Did you see her?”

  Karen nodded. “She seemed scared.”

  “Murphy told me she’d be coming with us.”

  “He told me she’d be with him and they’d meet us there.”

  Of course Murphy would want to keep her separate from Jed and Karen. She’d be easier to use as leverage that way.

  Outside, the sky was dark and moonless. Stars peeked through a partial cloud cover. Not even a trace of daylight remained. Jed had no way of knowing the time but assumed it was late night because though a cool breeze swept in from the bay, the night still held the memory of heat from the day.

  “Did he tell you where we’re going?” Jed said.

  “No. You?”

  “Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t give me any details. All I know is Connelly will be there.”

  The two were led down the walkway that wound back to the dock, but before they got to sea level, the path diverged and took them to the parade grounds and a heliport, where a gray-and-white Airbus H145 waited.

  The engines started on the helicopter and the large rotors began to turn. Faster and faster the blades moved until they beat at the air with a steady thrum.

  Jed and Karen were instructed to keep their heads low as they were escorted across the parade grounds to the chopper. The four armed men escorted them into the helicopter, where they sat on leather-upholstered seats, two men behind them and two men across the cabin from them. The side door of the chopper closed and moments later they were airborne.

  The flight across the bay took but a few minutes. The water below was black and shapeless, a gaping bottomless void opening to swallow them. Behind them and to the south, San Francisco glowed and shimmered like red-hot embers.

  When they’d reached the mainland to the north, the helicopter followed the path of US 101 as it wound through the cities of San Rafael and Novato and then into the vacant quarters of Olompali State Park and the Petaluma Marsh Wildlife Area. Beyond the marsh, the city of Petaluma sat low and sprawling. Traffic moved lazily along its gridded streets.

  On the other side of Petaluma, the chopper landed at the Petaluma Municipal Airport. The side door opened and Jed and Karen were instructed to exit.

  Once they were clear of the chopper, the aircraft lifted off the ground and seconds later all but disappeared into the night sky, heading east.

  Jed turned to one of their armed escorts. “Where to now?”

  The man motioned to a twin-engine jet waiting quietly near the runway. Jed reached for Karen’s hand, glanced at her, and nodded.

  At the jet the men stopped them. “Wait here,” the lead said. He was tall, thin but muscular, square jaw, narrow eyes. It was the first time he’d spoken since they left Alcatraz. He ascended the steps to the cabin, opened the door, and went inside, closing the door behind him.

  “You okay?” Jed asked Karen.

  She shifted her eyes to the men standing nearby, then back to Jed. “I’m fine. We’re doing the right thing, Jedidiah.”

  “What are we doing?”

  “Protecting our country.”

  “From Connelly.”

  “Yes. Connelly.”

  “Do you know what’s going to happen in Kill Devil Hills?”

  Karen moved her attention to the plane, then glanced at the armed escorts again. “No. But I have a feeling that you will do something that will prevent the world from being turned upside down.”

  “I feel like it’s already upside down.”

  The lead escort finally emerged from the cabin of the plane. “Let’s go.”

  Jed climbed the airstairs first, followed by a guard, then Karen, then the other two men. At the top, the lead opened the cabin door and stepped aside so Jed could enter. The interior of the cabin was tight but elegantly designed. A single row of cream leather seats lined each side of the cabin, facing each other in pairs, each pair with a mahogany table between them.

  A man stood and approached Jed. “Good evening, Mr. Patrick. I’m Ed Skinner. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll fill you in on the details of your mission once we get in the air.”

  “Where’s Murphy and my daughter?”

  “They’ve already left in another plane.” He looked at his watch. “They should be arriving at their destination in about an hour. I assure you, your daughter is fine. I saw her right before they departed. Sweet kid.” He gave Jed a tight-lipped grin. “She’s looking forward to seeing you again.”

  Skinner returned to his seat and motioned for Jed to sit. “Please, have a seat. We’re about to take off.”

  • • •

  Ed Worley lived in a third-floor apartment located on K Street just a mile walk from the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. It took Tiffany no more than twenty minutes to walk there.

  He opened the door after the first knock, confusion widening his eyes and parting his lips. “Hey.” He looked past Tiffany as if expecting her to have been accompanied
by someone else.

  Tiffany glanced both ways in the hallway, then said, “Can I come in?”

  Ed’s cheeks flushed. He leaned his head out of the doorway and also looked up and down the hall. “Sure. Yeah. Of course.” He stepped aside. “Come in, please.”

  Tiffany entered the apartment, which was nicely furnished in a retro modern style with clean lines and bright colors. The place was neat and uncluttered, not what she expected in the home of a bachelor.

  “Nice place,” she said.

  The redness in Ed’s cheeks deepened. He looked at the floor—“Thanks”—then around the living room area. “I have a thing for interior design. It’s actually what I went to school for.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Art Institutes of New York.”

  Tiffany scanned the room, which included a small eating area that led to the kitchen. “Wow. I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks.” Ed stepped to his right so he could face Tiffany. “So, uh, why the visit?” He shrugged and forced an awkward smile.

  Tiffany felt her own cheeks go hot. “I need a favor, Ed.”

  “Sure. What? Anything.”

  She didn’t want to beat around any bushes. “Can I borrow your car?”

  Ed raised his eyebrows. “My car? I thought it was going to be something about work and I was going to tell you that you could have just called and then you were going to say—”

  “Ed.”

  Ed stopped talking and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  “I need your car. Please.”

  “My car. Why?”

  Tiffany wrung her hands. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “How will I get to work?”

  “You can take the Metro from Foggy Bottom.”

  Ed blinked rapidly. “You seem to have this all worked out.”

  “Please, Ed. I need your help.”

  “Does this have to do with that thing you were nervous about talking to Jack about and why you haven’t been at work the past few days?”

  “Yes.”

  “What? You need to skip town or something? Was it that bad?”

  Tiffany hesitated. She couldn’t give Ed any information. Anything she said to him could endanger him, and she didn’t want to drag him into her issues. She liked him too much to do that to him. “I can’t say. I’m sorry. I just can’t. I need your help, though.”