Shattered Secrets

by Jane M. Choate

  After Sal tore a sleeve from his shirt and pressed it against the wound, he and Timmons searched for the shooter.

  “He’s too good,” Sal said in disgust as he combed the forest in vain for any tracks. “Not even a bent blade of grass.”

  “Probably the same man who took out Chantry at the pier.”

  Sal and Timmons made a camouflage of leaves and branches to protect Jeppsen.

  “Go,” Jeppsen urged. “I’ll be all right.”

  It went against Sal’s code of honor to leave a man behind, but he nodded. They had to find Olivia. Sooner rather than later. He had no idea whether they were battling two enemies or if the Russians and Walter were working together. Either way, it left Olivia squarely in the middle.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Her thinking still syrupy from whatever drug Walter had injected her with, Olivia trudged through the marsh, Walter prodding her when her footsteps lagged.

  The marsh, a beautiful and wild place, had always filled her with a combination of awe and fear. Swamp gases invaded her nostrils, making her want to gag. Animal sounds caused her to shiver at the thought of what creatures lurked in the deep greenery.

  Wisteria grew freely along with honeysuckle, the soft scent a contrast to the hard man who marched her over the rough ground.

  “Why?” The question ripped from her throat. “Why, Walter? You were Savannah’s golden boy.” Walter had graduated at the top of his class and had gone on to serve in the SEALs, had returned with honors and now ran one of the most successful investment banking companies in the South.

  “The same reason as my old man, money. Lots and lots of money. More money than you can dream of.”

  “You have money.”

  Walter’s laugh was totally devoid of humor but held a kind of crude pleasure, making it clear that he was enjoying her fear and revulsion. “There’s money. And then there’s money. Real money.”

  “We were friends. We grew up together.” She tried to make her words count for more, as though they were a long speech rather than just two short sentences. Tried to make them into an impassioned argument that would sway him from his purpose.

  “Funny. Is that how you remember it? ’Cause I don’t. I was never good enough for you. Your daddy made that pretty clear.”

  “We were like brother and sister.” The thought of there being something else between them had never entered her mind.

  “None of that matters now,” he said. “You know too much.”

  “I don’t know anything.” But she could guess.

  “Give it a rest,” Walter said. “You never could lie.”

  He was right about that.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What dear old Dad should have done in the first place. Make sure that you’re out of the picture.” He paused for effect. “Permanently.”

  The implication hung as thick and heavy as the humid air that was rank with rotting vegetation.

  She had to try one more time to reach him. This was the boy who had helped her catch her first fish. He’d even baited the hook for her when she was too squeamish to do it herself.

  As if guessing what was going through her mind, Walter shook his head. “Don’t even try.”

  “Try what?” She made her voice as innocent as she could.

  “Making me remember the good old days. From where I’m sitting, they weren’t all that good.”

  Had it all been an act? Calvin and her father. Walter and her. Why hadn’t she seen the darkness behind the easy smiles of father and son? Was she so anxious for more family that she’d let herself be blinded to the truth?

  “And your father? What about him? Was he ever a friend to my dad? To me?” She willed Walter to say that it hadn’t all been an act, that Calvin truly had been sick at the end.

  “What do you think?” Walter’s careless answer was but one more dart to her heart.

  “Calvin wasn’t always that way,” Olivia argued. “He was my father’s best friend. My friend.”

  Walter laughed. “He used to laugh about putting something over on your father in the business, said he was so trusting that fooling him was child’s play. Dad was skimming from the books from the beginning.”

  No wonder her father had never had two dimes to rub together. Had he suspected that his partner, his best friend was cheating him? A shiver worked its way down Olivia’s spine. It looked like father and daughter had been duped by Calvin and Walter.

  “My old man was as wily as they came. He played your father. And then you. He taught me along the way. Like how to stay one step ahead of anyone who might come looking for me.”

  “Who’s looking for you?”

  He threw her an impatient look. “The Russians. Because dear old Dad tried to double-cross them, they figure they’ll take their pound of flesh out of me.

  “You’re just like your old man,” Walter continued. “Both of you look at the world through rose-colored glasses. And now it’s going to cost you. Big-time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Walter said, “that you’re not going to be found for a long, long time.” He gestured with the knife to the marsh. “If ever. The marsh doesn’t like to give up its secrets. Too many critters there just waiting for a tasty morsel to snack on.”

  The shiver of a moment ago morphed into a full-blown shudder. She couldn’t help it. The marsh had always terrified her. Ever since she was a child and had gotten lost in the soupy fog, she had been afraid of it.

  Buck up, girl. She was no longer a child. She was a grown woman.

  “Are you going to knife me in the back?” she challenged. “Where’s the sport in that?”

  Walter pulled a crossbow from his pack. “I had something a little more sporting in mind. We’re going to have us a little hunt. Here’s how it’ll go: I’ll be the hunter and you’ll be the hunted.” He laughed at the last, then slapped her on the back, pushing her forward. “You’ve got a five-minute head start.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Want to stay around and find out?” He checked his watch. “Four minutes and forty seconds. Time’s a-wasting.”

  She stumbled over an exposed root. In trying to catch herself, she grabbed hold of a broken branch. She turned and swung it as she would a club. It wasn’t thick enough to pack a lot of wallop, but it made a rewarding whack as it connected with Walter’s temple. It didn’t topple him, but it stunned him. A small victory for her.

  Walter stood, put a hand to his head. It came away bloody. “You always did have your share of guts. Good. You’re gonna need them.”

  Olivia started running. She had no doubt that Walter would do just as he said.

  She ran as fast as she could, scrambling over roots and rotted trees. Branches whipped against her face, drawing blood, but she scarcely noticed. Have to get away. The words chanted through her mind.

  Walter was right behind her. She didn’t spare the moment it would take to glance over her shoulder. She heard the pounding of his footsteps, the heaviness of his breathing as he quickly made short shrift of her head start.

  She heard the whiz of an arrow as it sailed past. It missed her by several feet and landed in a tree trunk up ahead of her. She knew better than to believe that he was such a poor shot. He was playing with her, taunting her with the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

  As though to confirm that, he called out, “The next one will be closer. And the one after that closer still. We don’t want the game to end too early, now do we? No fun in that.”

  Olivia recalled Walter’s delight in hunting as a boy. Not for food, but for entertainment. The idea of killing animals for sport had repulsed her then. Now his fascination with hunting could very well end her life.

  She didn’t waste her breath in res
ponding. She was too busy trying to keep ahead of him. Her lungs felt close to bursting, her calf muscles on fire as she pushed herself. Why hadn’t she kept up her early morning jog?

  Up ahead. A hollowed-out log. It was her only chance, if she could make it there without Walter seeing what she was doing. A burst of speed later, she reached it and slithered inside. She forced her breathing to quiet, her heartbeat to slow. Her body relaxed, the adrenaline ebbing as she focused on taking shallow breaths.

  She heard him now. Coming to a stop. Looking around. Using a stick to poke at the thick underbrush.

  A black beetle scurried over her arm. She stifled the scream that sprang to her lips. Silence was her only chance at survival. That and prayer.

  Walter muttered something, stomped off. Or did he? She wouldn’t put it past him to pretend to leave and then circle back. She didn’t move. Couldn’t. She waited five minutes. Ten.

  Muscles cramped to the point of pain, she crawled out from the log and took a cautious look around. He was gone. At least for now. He could come back at any moment, but she was unharmed and could walk out of the marsh.

  “Thank You, Lord.” The words came automatically to her lips. He had never let her down. He never would.

  Now to get out of here. The sun was rapidly sinking below the horizon, leaving only scant light as it filtered through the thick canopy of leaves.

  It wasn’t going to get any lighter. Or any easier.

  She gauged the position of the lowering sun in the sky and got her bearings. She made a half-quarter turn. She put one foot in front of the other. Again.

  What looked like a fallen branch suddenly moved. A snake. A cottonmouth by the look of it. A scream broke from her throat.

  She clamped a hand over her mouth and looked around anxiously. If Walter were anywhere in the area, he’d surely have heard it. But there were no running footsteps, no sound at all except for those of the animals who made their homes in the marsh. She gave the snake a wide berth and kept moving.

  All the while she prayed and drew courage from the faith that had sustained her for a lifetime.

  * * *

  Hurry. Hurry. The words pounded through Sal’s mind with unrelenting persistence. He had to find Olivia before it was too late.

  Timmons led the way. “I know this area like the back of my hand. My brother and I used to hunt here.”

  Sal nodded. A lot of wetlands had been hunted until there was nothing left. He’d never hunted, never wanted part of the ritual. The whole thing was rigged against the animals. He knew his attitude wasn’t popular. Part of the coming of age for a boy in the South was the first hunt, bringing in a deer or, if he were fortunate, a bear.

  He recognized the irony. He’d taken lives while serving his country...and maybe that was part of it. There was too much bloodshed in the world already.

  If Jeppsen and Timmons had confided in him sooner, Sal could have prevented Olivia from getting as deeply involved as she had.

  “Olivia’s life is in danger because you didn’t say anything. If Walter knows she’s onto him, he’s got no reason to keep her alive.”

  A deep flush crossed the agent’s face. “I’m sorry about that. But I was under orders. I couldn’t say anything. We have over two years in on this op. We couldn’t blow it. The greater good and all.”

  The greater good. Sal had heard the phrase numerous times in his work. In his mind, the greater good was only an excuse and had little relationship to reality. “So you put an innocent woman in danger instead?” He understood national security, but this was Olivia’s life they were talking about.

  “You’d have done the same thing in my place,” Timmons said, the color in his face deepening.

  “I would never be in your place. I don’t play with people’s lives.”

  “We’ll find your lady,” Timmons promised.

  “You’d better hope so. Because you’ll be the first one I come for if we don’t.”

  * * *

  Olivia was running for her life. Twice, in less than a week, a man she’d thought of as a friend had tried to kill her.

  “If I get out of this,” she said to herself, “I’ve got to get a better class of friends.”

  Her humor fell flat. She was winded. Her flimsy sandals had given out miles earlier and her feet were shredded by the harsh terrain. Her skin was red and raw where mosquitoes the size of humming birds had feasted with greedy enthusiasm.

  “Please, Lord,” she prayed. “I’m scared. Sal doesn’t know where I am. It’s You and me.” The Lord was always with her.

  She assessed her situation. She was hungry, cold and out of breath. She had no weapons. No, that wasn’t right. She had her mind.

  It was time she put it to work.

  She either needed to keep moving or find some sort of hiding place. Was it only a few days ago that she and Sal had taken shelter in a cave?

  So much had happened in the days following. Part of her was still reeling from the knowledge that both Calvin and Walter were working with terrorists, and once again she asked herself why she hadn’t seen it. Because she hadn’t wanted to?

  There’d be time enough to sort it all out when she got out of the marsh. Not looking where she was going, she slipped in a rut and slid a dozen feet down a small incline. She berated herself for her carelessness, stood, and climbed back to the path.

  Her whole body throbbed with exhaustion. She wanted nothing so much as to curl up and go to sleep. Shoulders set, she started off again, praying she was going in the right direction.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Sal and Timmons followed Walter and Olivia’s tracks, all the while keeping an eye out for whoever was following them. Obviously, Walter didn’t expect anyone to be tailing him because he’d made no attempt to obscure the trampled brush and grass. “How did the Chantrys come to be involved with Russian terrorists?”

  “Junior served in the Middle East. As far as we can tell, he came home from the service with a list of black market contacts and put them to good use. One of those contacts had connections with an ex-Soviet scientist.”

  Another nod on Sal’s part.

  “Junior learned about a shipment of HEU and made sure it would be diverted. He and his old man took possession of it and secured it somewhere, somewhere we don’t know about. That’s what this whole thing has been about, locating the HEU and getting it out of circulation along with stopping the plans from getting into the wrong hands. Calvin Chantry decided to cut the Russians out of the deal and sell the plans and the HEU to the highest bidder.

  “If they’d pulled it off, the old man and his kid stood to make a bundle. They’d be living the good life while I slog along trying to make it on a civil servant’s salary.”

  “Why do you keep doing it?” Sal asked.

  “Because I believe in the work.” Passion rang through the agent’s voice. “My kids may never go to an Ivy League college, but I’m doing my best to make sure there’s still a world for them to grow up in. If this HEU and the attack plans get to our enemies, part of that world is going to go up in radioactive ashes.”

  Sal’s respect for the man grew. He had his head on straight and his priorities in place. “You’re all right, Timmons.”

  The agent gave a mock salute. “Right back at you. I knew you were the real deal when we first met. I wish I could have told you what was going on. In retrospect, I probably should have. But orders are orders.”

  Sal understood, even respected it. As a soldier, he’d had to obey orders, some he hadn’t always agreed with, some he’d spoken out against. But, because he had taken an oath to protect his country at all costs, in the end, he’d done what he’d been told.

  “None of this helps us find your lady, though.” Timmons lifted a hand to shield his eyes and scanned the unforgiving landscape of the marsh. “E
ven experienced hunters get lost in this.”

  Sal thought it through. Olivia was smart. If she’d managed to escape from Chantry, she’d head for high ground. There wasn’t much high ground in the swamp, but the land elevated slightly toward the west.

  It was all he had, so he headed in that direction, praying that he was right.

  * * *

  Olivia’s steps dragged. She had tried to reach higher ground to get her bearings. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another step, she heard it.

  “Olivia.”

  Sal’s voice. She turned to it. “Here! I’m here.”

  “Stay where you are. We’ll come to you.”

  “Walter’s out there. He has a crossbow.”

  “Stay put. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  We? Who was with him?

  True to his word, Sal burst through the underbrush a minute later. He pulled her to him.

  She held on. “You found me.”

  “I’ll always find you. The only thing that matters now is that we get you out of here and to a hospital to be checked out.”

  “No.” The strength of her voice startled her. “No. We need to find Walter, stop him.”

  Agent Timmons stepped forward. “You know him best, Ms. Hammond. Will he keep coming after you or will he run?”

  “Walter wants the money he and Calvin got from the Russians more than he wants to kill me. My guess is that he’ll cut and run. He has a boat at the marina. I don’t remember the name.”

  Timmons pulled up the marina’s website on his phone. “Here’s the list of boats registered. If you saw the name, would you recognize it?”

  The three of them scanned the list.

  Sal seized upon one. “The Easy Day. The SEAL motto is ‘The only easy day was yesterday.’ That’s got to be it.”

  Olivia grabbed his hand. “We have to stop him. Before he sells what he knows.”

  He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Beautiful and remarkable?”

  “You’re telling me this now? Now, when I’m covered with mud and muck and we have a terrorist to take down?”