by Steve Berry
She was also doing something he’d never seen her do before.
Carrying a weapon.
She stopped within the inner bowels of the fort, crumpled buildings and collapsed walls all around them, the stench of birds heavy once again in the chilly air. He recalled the fort’s geography from his first visit and wondered how much Carbonell knew of this place.
Would that knowledge give him a slight advantage?
His two men lay dead about fifty feet above him. They’d carried guns. He had to make a move.
But he’d only get one chance.
Make it count.
Malone was flying south, out of Canadian airspace, back to the United States. He was worried about Cassiopeia, wishing she hadn’t gone in there alone. Okay, she was brave, and he knew how she felt about Stephanie. And yes, they were all frustrated and wanted to do something. But going solo? Why not? He’d probably have done the same thing himself, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
The plane’s phone buzzed.
“We have quite a storm here,” Edwin Davis said from North Carolina. “It’s creating a mess. You might have a problem landing.”
“We’ll worry about that in three hours. What’s happening across the river?”
“Gunfire has resumed.”
Cassiopeia ripped the tape from Stephanie’s mouth, and the older woman immediately said, “Damn, I’m glad to see you.”
“You look pretty good, too.”
She peeled tape from Shirley Kaiser’s face and asked, “You okay?”
“I’ll live. Get this crap off my hands and feet.”
When both women were free, Stephanie rushed back and retrieved the two rifles. She returned and handed one to Shirley. “Can you use it?”
“You bet your sweet ass I can.”
Cassiopeia smiled and asked them both, “You ready?”
Rain continued to pour.
“We have to make it to the dock,” she told them. “I have a boat there. Edwin is waiting across the river, and there are Secret Service agents on this side in Bath.”
“Lead the way,” Stephanie said.
“I want to kill Hale,” Shirley said.
“Take a number,” Stephanie said to her. “But that’s going to have to wait. Cassiopeia, are you saying that all that gunfire we heard has nothing to do with you?”
“Not a thing. They showed up just as I did.”
“What’s going on?”
“I wish I knew.”
Hale directed his men as they fled the prison through the concealed rear door and advanced around toward the front, where their attackers waited. Many of the building’s windows had been shot through but the old timbers had withstood the barrage. He was still in radio communication with his men who were flanking the attackers. They were awaiting his order before revealing their presence.
He came to the edge of the building and stayed low.
The storm had hardly abated during the past hour. His eyes were blurry with water. He used the upper eave for protection and focused out at the tree line. The yard, where the prisoner had died earlier, was acting as their salvation, as the intruders were hesitant to advance across its open expanse.
A blast of lead peppered the building.
He heard something thud to the ground and saw a splash.
Then another.
“Captain, get down,” one of his men yelled.
Cassiopeia whirled at the sound of two explosions coming from the direction of the prison.
“Whoever they are,” Stephanie said, “I’m glad they’re here.”
She agreed. “But we need to stay in the trees. There are men everywhere, and it’s a good twenty-minute trek back to the dock.”
Hale pushed himself up from the wet ground and surveyed the damage. Two grenades had destroyed the prison’s front door and taken out the remaining windows.
But the walls had continued to hold.
He found the radio and gave the command. “Kill them, but make sure I have one prisoner.”
The men with him already knew what to do and started firing, drawing the intruders’ attention.
Shots were returned.
He sought cover behind the trunk of a hefty oak.
Shouts were heard.
Automatic weapons fire came steadily, then lapsed, the clicks gradually slowing until only the wind and rain could be heard.
“We have them,” came the voice over the radio. “All dead, except one.”
“Bring him to me.”
SEVENTY-FOUR
NOVA SCOTIA
Wyatt beat Carbonell and her contingent back to Fort Dominion. He felt a little like he had that night years ago, trapped with Malone in the warehouse. Except he was now the fox, instead of the hare. He’d assumed a position similar to what the Commonwealth had taken on his arrival, utilizing the wall walks to maximum advantage. He’d also found his backpack, ditched earlier before his confrontation with Malone, and re-donned his night-vision goggles. He wished he had a supply of flash bombs. They’d come in handy right about now.
Below, he spotted Carbonell with three men. Two were armed. The third was Clifford Knox and he was unarmed.
He decided to strike the first blow.
So he aimed for one of the armed men, the night-vision goggles providing excellent visibility, and fired.
Knox heard a shot crack through the night.
The man standing five feet away from him cried out in agony then collapsed.
The other armed man reacted, diving for cover.
So did Carbonell.
He fled.
Disappearing into a doorway a few feet away and climbing toward the roof.
Cassiopeia led the way, trying to stay as far away from Hale’s house as possible. There’d been no more explosions, and the gunfire had subsided.
“You’re telling me,” Stephanie whispered, “that Edwin has no idea who’s attacking this place?”
“That’s what he said. But it’s most likely NIA. We suspect its director is deep into this.”
“You can’t trust a thing Andrea Carbonell says or does.”
“Right now, I’m glad for whatever she’s doing. That attack made my job a thousand percent easier.”
They kept moving, guns ready, keeping a watchful eye on the forest around them. Something caught Cassiopeia’s attention off to the right. She grabbed Stephanie’s arm and signaled for Kaiser to stop. Sprawled on the wet soil was a man, not moving. She crept over and saw that half of his skull was gone.
The other two women came, too.
Stephanie bent down and examined the corpse. “Body armor. Night goggles.”
A radio lay to one side.
Stephanie lifted it and tried, “Is anyone listening on this channel?”
Silence.
“This is Stephanie Nelle, head of the Magellan Billet. I ask again, is anyone on this channel?”
Hale surveyed the dead men, all equipped with body armor, night-vision goggles, grenades, and automatic weapons. They lay in the trees, rain drenching their corpses. They each carried a radio with an ear fob, one of which he now held.
“Where is my prisoner?” he asked his crewman.
“We took him inside. He’s waiting for you.”
He still held his weapon. Reports from the main house confirmed that more intruders were dead there. Nine all told. None of his men had sustained any injuries. Had Carbonell thought him that incapable? The security center confirmed that the estate was again secure, and the two vehicles the men had arrived in had been found about half a mile from the north perimeter. The storm had effectively masked the gunfire and the estate’s isolation would aid in the cleanup. His men had also checked with the other captains. No one had been attacked save for him, and none of the three had dispatched any men to assist.
“Is anyone listening on this channel?”
The words startled him. A female voice. Coming through the radio’s ear fob, which he’d inserted a few minutes ago on the off chance that ther
e might be some chatter.
“This is Stephanie Nelle, head of the Magellan Billet, I ask again, is anyone on this channel?”
Knox found the upper wall walk but kept low. He made his way to one of his dead men and discovered no weapons. Either Wyatt or Malone had made sure there was nothing to find. The only other gun he might retrieve was from the man Wyatt had just taken down. But that would be difficult.
Two shots rang out from below.
One sent a round off into the night.
The other a bullet his way.
Cassiopeia watched as Stephanie tossed the radio to the ground and said, “Useless.”
“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” Kaiser asked.
Cassiopeia agreed. “We’re only about halfway and it sounds like things have calmed down. It won’t be long before they know you’re gone.”
Stephanie gestured with her weapon. “We’re leaving, but I’ll be back for these bastards.”
Hale ran to the prison building, found an estate phone, and called Adventure.
“Has a cart arrived with two prisoners?” he asked the man on the other end.
“Nothing, Captain. Just a lot of wind and rain.”
He hung up the phone and pointed at two crewmen.
“Come with me.”
Wyatt was pleased.
One down. Three to go.
On his run over from the boat he’d realized that Carbonell would not just parade into the fort. She knew he’d come and she knew he’d want her dead. She’d have a plan with contingencies. So when he’d reentered he’d stayed hidden, intentionally avoiding the main gate, slipping inside through a collapsed portion of the exterior wall.
“Come on,” he whispered to her. “Don’t disappoint me now. Be your usual cocky self.”
Hale found the empty cart and his two dead crewmen about a hundred yards from the prison.
Dammit.
He’d been told that they’d stopped all of the intruders, but that apparently was not the case. Where were Nelle and Kaiser? They could not have gone far. It was more than a mile to the nearest fence, and depending on which direction they chose, that would take them either onto another captain’s land or to the water.
The river.
Exactly.
It had always been their greatest security threat, its wooded shoreline nearly impossible to patrol.
His cellphone vibrated in his pocket.
Security center.
“Captain,” the man said as he answered. “We’ve reviewed the recordings and noticed that a single intruder gained access to the dock by boat about ninety minutes ago. Resolution was poor because of the storm, but it appears to be a woman.”
“Any sign of her?”
“We’ve had trouble with the cameras everywhere tonight, but no, no other sign of her.”
“Is her boat still there?”
“Tied to a piling. Do you want it released?”
He thought a moment.
“No. I have a better idea.”
SEVENTY-FIVE
Malone was anxious to be on the ground. They were back in American airspace, racing down the northeastern seaboard, headed for North Carolina. The pilots had informed him that they were about two hours from landing and the last thirty minutes would be extremely bumpy thanks to a late-season gale that had blown in from the Atlantic. In the meantime, there was nothing he could do but sit and worry.
His relationship with Cassiopeia had certainly added a new dimension to his life. He’d been married to Pam, his ex-wife, along time. They’d gone from the navy, to law school, to the Magellan Billet. Together they’d birthed and raised Gary. Pam had even become a lawyer, too, something they should have shared but actually drove them apart.
Neither one of them had been a saint.
His indiscretions were known by her from their start. Hers only came to light years later. Thankfully, they’d made their peace, but that had taken more than either of them had ever bargained for to accomplish. Now another woman had entered his life. Different. Exciting. Unpredictable. Where Pam had been the picture of patience, Cassiopeia was like a moth, fleeting from one thing to the next, all with a grace and agility that he’d come to appreciate. Her faults were there, but nothing he could not lay claim to himself. From the first moment they’d encountered each other in France he’d been drawn to her. Now she might be in trouble, single-handedly trying to challenge a company of pirates.
Damn he wished they would land.
The cabin phone rang.
“Cotton, I thought you’d like to know that it’s gone dead quiet at the compound.”
The deep voice on the other end of the line was unmistakable.
“Go get them,” he told the president of the United States. “Cassiopeia should not have been allowed to go in there.”
“She was right, and you know it. Somebody had to go. But I understand where you’re coming from. I feel awful about Stephanie. And Shirley Kaiser. The crazy fool. She’s placed herself right in the middle of this.”
“How much longer do you wait?”
“She said till dawn. We’ll give her that. Men have been arriving at the compound constantly. Beyond that, we don’t know what’s happening. She could be making progress.”
“I’ll be there in less than two hours,” he said.
“Did you find those pages?”
“I think so, but I’ll have to go back to get them.”
“Wyatt is still there. Carbonell is, too. She came after you left.”
“I figured Edwin had some eyes and ears on the ground.”
“I insisted. One of the Secret Service pilots who flew you there stayed behind. He’s watching.”
That wasn’t his main concern. “I want to know what’s happening in Bath, as it happens.”
“We’ll act the instant we have cause. Otherwise, it’s all yours in two hours.”
Cassiopeia studied the Hale house. Lights had been restored and armed men patrolled the covered verandas.
“Stay low and in the trees,” she whispered. “Once we’re around the house, it’s not far to the dock.”
The storm continued to rage with little sign of slowing. The trip back across the river would be a challenge.
“I wish I could go in there and kill that son of a bitch,” Shirley muttered.
“How about you just testify against him,” she whispered. “That should do it.” She motioned ahead. “That way.”
They headed off.
Fifty meters past the house she heard shouts.
She turned back and, through the foliage, spotted men bursting out of doors and off the porches. Something had spooked them. None headed directly toward them. Most rounded toward the front, away from the river.
“We need to hurry,” she breathed.
Wyatt watched as Knox dove for cover. The shots had come from the direction of Carbonell and her man. Through the night goggles he saw a man emerge from the stairwell Knox had just used to climb onto the wall walk.
One of the men who’d come with Carbonell, come to finish Knox off.
He decided to help out.
He aimed and fired, dropping the man to the stones.
Knox seemed to sense an opportunity and belly-crawled to the body, finding the man’s gun. He imagined what Carbonell was doing. She knew he was armed. His killing of her man had revealed his location. Now she was probably on her radio, trying to contact the two other men she’d previously stationed here.
Her aces in the hole.
Her plan with contingencies.
While she and the others occupied his attention, those two would take him out. She’d apparently captured Knox and brought him back, intent on cleaning up that loose end, too.
Poor Andrea.
Not this time.
Cassiopeia emerged from the oaks near the dock. The long wooden expanse remained unlit, Hale’s sloop still tied at the end. There had to be men stationed on the boat. Unlikely that they would leave a yacht that large unattended in a storm. She
motioned and they raced toward the ladder where she’d first gained ingress. Her boat waited at the bottom, tossing on the swells. They climbed down and she untied the lines.
So far so good.
She’d have to crank the engine, but not until the wind and current drove them out into the river.
A light appeared from the dock.
Bright, like the sun. Blinding her.
She raised an arm to shield her burning pupils.
She reached for her weapon and saw that Stephanie and Shirley were already raising theirs.
“That would be foolish,” a male voice said over the wind, through a loudspeaker. “We have guns trained. Your engine has been disabled and the boat is tied from beneath to the dock. You can die there, if you like. Or—”
“It’s Hale,” Shirley said.
“You can come ashore.”
“Let’s swim for it,” Cassiopeia said.
But another light appeared out on the river, coming their way.
Anxiety turned to fear.
“My men are quite the seamen,” Hale said. “They can handle this storm. There is no place for you to go.”
Knox scrambled over to the dead man and found a gun, along with a spare magazine in a jacket pocket.
Good to be armed.
He descended back into the fort, but avoided the ground, exiting one level above into a darkened passageway. He negotiated a short hall and entered a tight space where the outer wall, facing the sea, had collapsed. For a moment he allowed the breeze to alleviate some of his apprehension. Only the stench of guano disturbed the tranquility. He was just about to leave when something to his right, beyond a pile of rubble, caught his attention.
A leg.
He crept forward.
A mutter of concern growled among some nearby restless birds.