“Not so cocky anymore, are we? Zara, want to remind us what’s in those tanks out there?”
Through broken teeth and split lips, Zara jerked her shoulder toward Biagatti and said, “She knows.” The woman was defeated physically and mentally.
“I know, because she told you to do it,” Cassie said.
Cassie slipped on her mask and sealed it. Hobart and Jake did the same. Her finger began to press on the button. Biagatti flinched and shouted, “Okay!”
“First question,” Cassie said, looking at Zara. “Which app did you use to mimic Jake’s voice on that altered tape?”
“What?” Jake said. Cassie held up her hand at him signaling that she had control while keeping her eyes locked on Zara, looking for the tell.
Zara looked at Jake and then down at the table.
“Lyrebird,” Zara muttered.
“Should have killed you,” Cassie said. “Now both of you give us the names of the Resistance and the remaining assassins.”
Zara picked up the pen and started writing. Biagatti did the same. For an hour, they filled five pages of names. Government workers in the CIA, FBI, DoD, NSA, office of the DNI, and all of the other three-letter agencies.
When they were done, Cassie collected the papers, removed her protective mask, pressed the button, and watched the mist begin pouring from the vents.
“What are you doing? We did what you asked!” Biagatti said.
“Oh, it’s just compressed oxygen. The same people who fixed the SCIF switched out the tanks.”
Crestfallen, Biagatti dropped her head into her hands.
“Shall we?” Cassie asked Jake and Hobart.
They stood and stepped outside of the SCIF, which had a fresh hasp placed on the outside. It was now a holding cell when Cassie clipped a large Master lock through the bolt. Jake led the way into the kitchen and then into the family room, where Jamie and Savage were sitting.
“Done?”
“Yes,” Cassie said, handing the papers to Savage. “They confessed. It’s all on video. And here is a list of names. I’m sure this isn’t all of them, but it’s a start.”
“Well, you know your next mission, then,” Savage said. “Take a short break, heal up, and prep for the next level. Ferret out these weasels until they’re gone or can be loyal to this country.”
Cassie nodded. Jake stood behind her, giving her the presence she deserved with Savage, the recognition that she had sacrificed and done well enough. Maybe not perfect, but she had represented and accomplished the mission.
“Here’s the letter the president signed saying that he is, and has been, capable of serving,” Savage said. He passed it to Jamie. “You’re good with this? Everything we’ve done? You’ve done?”
“Do I have a choice? I made my decision when you first talked to me a few weeks ago.”
“Doubtful, but give it a shot,” Savage said.
“Are you now going to finally tell me how you knew?” Jamie asked Savage.
“We never reveal sources and methods, but I can tell you it was purely by luck,” Savage said.
“Whose luck?”
“Not yours, that’s for sure.”
As Cassie listened, she recalled Jake telling her about a JSOC training exercise in an abandoned building complex along the Neuse River near New Bern, North Carolina. The operators had brought back a string of unintentionally intercepted communications. In light of the recent combat in Iran, which involved significant cyber warfare, Savage was testing a new cell phone jammer and interceptor to be used for combat overseas.
The results were significantly better than they had anticipated. So much so that they not only intercepted faux “enemy” communications, but they picked up local traffic as well. While not entirely legal, she knew that Savage didn’t care, especially when he saw the text string:
Cardinal: Patient status?
Lancer: Full recovery but TBI
Cardinal: Will she do?
Lancer: We need her. Op starts soon. Think so
Cardinal: I’m going to see her tomorrow
Lancer: Which makes her perfect
Cardinal: Be careful
Lancer: Will do
When Jake had shown Cassie the transcript, she committed to infiltrating the Valley Trauma Center. There was no doubt that Cardinal was Jamie Carter, her godmother. Savage then had O’Malley work the deep web links to all the previous communications where they were able to trace the links to Syd Wise’s personal computer. Of the same ilk and no smarter than the FBI cesspool of co-conspirators involved in the Crossfire Hurricane scandal, Wise operated under the arrogant assumption that he was smarter than everyone else. He wasn’t.
Cassie wasn’t sure how General Savage had convinced the president and vice president to go along with the scenario, but the fact that all pretense of objectivity in the media had been lost certainly contributed to their decision. No matter what President Smart did, the media continued to go for the jugular. So, why not expose the entire lot?
Turning Jamie Carter had been the key.
“If nothing else, working with the president to lance this Resistance boil, and to try to bring the country back together just a bit, may help,” Jamie continued.
“Some good lawyers might be able to keep you out of jail, Jamie, but we’ve got enough evidence to show your participation early on,” Savage said.
“I’ve got good lawyers,” Jamie said. “The possibility of any future is better than being dead, I guess. The only thing I really feel bad about is the Speaker,” Jamie said. “He’s dead and we can’t change that.”
“He was as deep into the conspiracy as Biagatti,” Savage said. “As you.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t make his death any easier.”
“Well, deal with it,” Savage said. “Just remember we’ve got an insurance policy. This coup was originally your idea, it seems.”
“Will I ever be able to escape your noose, Bob?”
“Doubtful. Too many great Americans have put in too much blood, sweat, and tears to let weasel politicians destroy it from within.”
“Seems I’ve made a deal with the devil,” Jamie said.
“At least it’s the devil you know.”
“Indeed.”
“And you owe an apology to Cassie,” Savage said.
“Why?”
“You used software to manufacture that conversation where it appeared Jake was leaving Cassie behind,” Mahgean said. “O’Malley already has your computer and is shredding through it.”
“I never doubted you, Jake,” Cassie said.
“That’s not the issue, Cass. She’s crossed all kind of lines, but for me, that’s a personal line. How about it, Senator?”
Jamie looked at Jake, then at Cassie and nodded.
“Yes. That was mostly Zara, but yes. I was part of it. I apologize, Cassie. As your godmother, I should never have considered such a thing.”
“How about as a human being?” Jake shot.
“Jake,” Cassie said, placing her hand on his arm. “Jamie, I can’t accept what you’ve done or your apology. When I’m called to testify, you’ll learn just how pissed off I am. Right now, I’m glad the country is secure and that you’re going to be ushered off to prison.”
Jake departed briefly and returned with the medical cooler and opened it in the kitchen, where Cassie joined him. Inside were more communications Band-Aids and a syringe filled with liquid.
“Is this what I think it is?” Jake asked.
“Yes. It supposedly reverses the DHT-and-Flakka mix,” Cassie said. “Zara gave it to me once and it took me in the other direction. I had two shots of DHT in the last twenty-four hours. I’m coming down, but that could be helpful right now.”
Mahegan retrieved the cool plastic syringe and handed it to Cassie, who walked across the room near the fireplace, and tossed it into the yellow flames. The syringe melted and the liquid evaporated, erasing any vestige of Zara’s influence on Cassie’s life.
�
�Better?” Jake asked.
“Better,” she said.
Jake nodded and smiled, a rare moment of happiness in the last few months.
The roar of helicopter blades thundered above as an MH-47 passed overhead and landed in the front yard, where it had landed yesterday to evacuate the wounded.
Cassie and Jake walked down the steps with Hobart providing overwatch.
Vance was first off the back ramp, followed by President Smart and Vice President Grainger.
“Welcome back, Mr. President, Vice President,” Cassie said above the din of the rotors.
The president smiled, patted Cassie on the shoulder, and said, “Damn, you’re good. Watched the entire thing from some bunker in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Now let’s get this show on the road.”
He pulled out his phone and began banging out a tweet:
@realjacksmart: To all the haters who were happy I was gone, I’m back from the dead! Resistance crushed. I knew Biagatti was dirty the whole time but now we have proof. Life in jail for her or anyone else who tries to take us down!
EPILOGUE
AS MORNING BROKE, JAKE SAID TO CASSIE, “READY?”
Cassie nodded. They walked from the parking lot of the Valley Trauma Center into what had been Broome’s office. Where it had all begun. Jake removed the crime scene tape that crisscrossed the door as they stepped through. The police had investigated Broome’s murder, but evidently the Valley Trauma Center had still been functioning until authorities could figure out what to do with the patients.
The sun was glaring through the windows as Cassie waved a fob in front of the keypad for the retracting circular doors. She had always wondered about why Broome had needed the security.
“Broome died right there,” Cassie said. She pointed at the chair. The bloodstains were still present.
Cassie walked him through the closet and narrow hallway that led to the back of the kitchen.
“What makes you think this is the place?” Mahegan asked.
“Just something she said,” Cassie replied. “Zara’s list shows just one remaining Artemis assassin. I know I only saw one blue dot remaining in my BLEP, but it went blank somewhere near Charlottesville. Whoever it might be was probably on her way here and most likely had the GPS tracker removed.”
Mahegan pulled his Sig Sauer Tribal from his clip-on holster. The operations tempo had been intense and their mission to stay inside Zara and Biagatti’s decision cycle had them all running on fumes.
She still had Broome’s fob card and used it to gain access to the residential hallway where she and Emma had bunked for two weeks. The building was eerily quiet. Spooky. She remembered the random sounds of the guards’ keychains, women shouting, and Emma’s rapid-fire voice.
There was none of that now. Just dead silence.
They walked past the first room and saw a woman huddled in the corner, wild eyes searching them. Friend or foe? Who knows nowadays what those terms even meant?
Cassie took a deep breath, bracing herself, as she looked through the window of her room. She didn’t see Emma, but written in red letters—perhaps blood—was Emma’s saying:
The last ride is never the last ride, and the end is never the end.
A chill shot up her spine.
The end is never the end.
“Cassie,” Jake said.
“Yeah,” she muttered, distracted. Then she turned and saw why Jake had nudged her.
Emma was standing twenty yards away at the end of the long hallway. Her hair was matted with blood and sweat. She held a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other.
Behind her stood ten other women, all armed with knives, and lying in wait. Without warning, they ran toward Jake and Cassie.
Double Crossfire Page 29