Next Exit, Use Caution

by CW Browning

  “Oh John, why did you have to die?” she muttered, staring at the steel box.

  After taking a deep, calming breath, Stephanie reached out and lifted the top off the box. The first thing to greet her was a manila envelope. She lifted it out and opened it, glancing inside. Her eyebrows soared into her forehead. It was filled with cash. John had a rainy day fund. She set it aside and lifted out an old folder, worn along the edges. Flipping it open, she leafed through personal documents: birth certificate, baptismal certificate, old passports. She closed it and set it on top of the envelope, then grinned as she turned her attention back to the box. A Beretta lay next to a box of clips and ammo. John had a backup for his backups. She lifted them out and added them to the growing pile next to the steel box.

  Next was an old spiral-bound notebook with a beer bottle shaped stain on the top corner and fading doodles of Anthrax and Metallica logos. She smiled faintly. A throwback to his heavy metal days. It was probably filled with names and numbers of old girlfriends. Stephanie added it to the pile without opening it. There would be time enough to examine it later.

  “Well, that’s a surprise!” she murmured to herself, staring into the box.

  Under the notebook was a slim, external hard-drive. She pulled it out and turned it over, looking at it. John had been nothing if not technologically declined. He never kept backups and couldn’t find his way out of the C: drive if his life depended on it. So what was he doing with an external drive? Did he even know how to use it? The power cord and USB cable were in the box and Stephanie pulled them out, setting them aside along with the drive. Strange.

  At the bottom of the box was a white, legal-sized envelope. Stephanie pulled it out and frowned, feeling something bulky and hard inside. She opened it curiously and gasped. Tipping the envelope, she held out her hand and a ring rolled into her palm.

  Stephanie stared at it. It was the engagement ring John gave Alina all those years ago. Why had he kept it? They all just assumed he’d sold it after she, quite literally, threw it at him. Despite needing cleaning, the half-carat diamond sparkled when she picked up the ring and tilted it to the light. The white gold band was twisted to look like a vine and Stephanie shook her head. She remembered how much Alina loved that ring, right up until she threw it at John’s bleeding head.

  And he kept it all these years.

  Stephanie dropped it back into the envelope as a crushing wave of sadness rolled over her. Now John was dead and the ring would end up being sold, another piece of him gone forever.

  The box was empty and Stephanie stared at the small pile representing what was left of John Smithe. The tears came unexpectedly, hot and furious, pouring down her face as she stared at the few pieces of his life John deemed worthy of a safe deposit box. These were the things he wanted to make sure survived. These were what he wanted to keep safe, no matter what.

  Stephanie raised shaking hands to try to brush away the tears, but the more she wiped them away, the faster they came. Her shoulders shook silently, and she finally dropped her face into her hands as the sobs overcame her. This was all that was left of her partner: an old engagement ring, a couple pieces of paper to say he existed, a gun, some cash, and an old notebook and hard drive. John had been so much more, but this was all that remained.

  An entire lifetime in a little steel box in a bank vault.

  Alina sipped her water and moved another file into her cleared folder. Leaning back in her chair, she stretched her arms over her head and rolled her head. She was about halfway through the files she had pulled from the Pentagon, and so far, she had nothing to show for it. If she didn’t find something soon, Hawk just might get his wish. Without information, Viper had no defense and truly was sitting in the kill box, waiting to die. It was only a matter of time before the shooter found her. If she couldn’t get a step ahead, she would have to return to Singapore and try again there. But this time, she’d be ready.

  Sitting forward again, Alina clicked open the next file in line. She rubbed her eyes and started scanning through quickly. On the second page, she stiffened and her eyes narrowed. Not only did this one fit the profile she was searching for, but the career followed a path eerily similar to that of Hawk’s.

  Viper pursed her lips and reached for her water, sipping it as she carefully read through the file. Reaching the end, she sat back, stunned. This had to be him. This had to be the soldier Charlie wanted her to find. Everything about him, from his enlistment up until his discharge, caught her attention. This was just the type of soldier to garner Charlie’s interest.

  Alina stared at the photo on the screen, a 3x3 copy of a military photo. The face was different, but the eyes were the same as the mystery doctor she’d passed in the hallway of the hospital the day John died.

  She studied him. Who was he? According to his Army file, he enlisted in Pawtucket, Rhode Island at the age of eighteen. By the time he was twenty-three, he was a Ranger deployed to Afghanistan, where he served with distinction. After two tours, he returned stateside and was honorably discharged. There his Army military record ended.

  Viper slid her chair over to another PC. She opened a database and, on a hunch, typed in the name. A few minutes later, she was staring at the same photo from the military file. This time, there was a red stamp across it – DISCHARGED.

  “I’ll be damned,” she breathed, staring at it.

  The photo was attached to an admittance form. It was a form she remembered. She’d filled hers out sitting at a table across from the man who had finally talked her into applying for a special branch of the CIA she never knew existed. Viper leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling of her command center. He was more than just an ex-soldier.

  He was one of them.

  The silence in the long room was broken when her phone vibrated on the counter a few feet away. Alina reluctantly scooted her chair back over to her laptop and reached for her phone.

  “Yes?”

  “You sound very unhappy,” Damon informed her cheerfully. “Miss me already?”

  “Not unhappy. Mad.”

  A beat of silence greeted that statement and Viper could almost feel him stiffen over the phone.

  “Things never end well when you get mad. Talk to me.”

  “Remember the soldier Charlie wanted me to find in Singapore?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’ve found him.”

  “I thought you’d already decided it was the guy from your brother’s company?”

  “I kept looking. I still think he’s involved somehow, but I like to cover all my bases,” she replied. “I’m glad I did. This other one is ringing all kinds of bells and whistles. His last known address was in Singapore, as late as this past winter.”

  “And this makes you mad why?”

  “He’s one of us.”

  The silence was longer this time and Viper leaned forward to pick up her water, draining the bottle.

  “What do we know?” Hawk finally asked.

  Viper smiled faintly. His tone may be even, but she knew better. She could almost see the icy glint in his blue eyes as he switched into work mode.

  “Not much. I found it right before you called. He was an Army Ranger, honorably discharged.”

  “What makes you think he’s one of us?”

  “I pulled another file with his discharge photo. It was attached to the same application form we filled out when we applied for the Organization,” Viper told him grimly. “That’s as far as I’ve got.”

  “I doubt Charlie will confirm. At least, I hope to God he doesn’t. I know I’d be pissed if he confirmed my status to another asset,” Hawk said.

  “Actually, I wasn’t going to ask him.”

  “That’s the only way to know he’s one of us. How else will you...oh no. You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  Hawk whistled.

  “Wow. You’ve got balls,” he told her. “Are you out of your mind?�
��

  “You don’t know where I was the other night,” she replied dryly. “If you did, you’d know that ship already sailed.”

  “You’re not instilling confidence in me, Viper,” he muttered. “Are you sure about this? He’ll flay you alive if he catches you. In fact, to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

  “Relax. It’s not like I’ll go rooting through all the files,” she said calmly. “I know which one I’m looking for. It will be quick. In and out.”

  Hawk snorted.

  “Charlie will have you tagged before you crack the first firewall. There is no ‘in and out’ with our system.”

  “There’s always a way. You just have to find it.”

  There was a long silence, then Hawk sighed heavily.

  “Even if you do manage it, what are you hoping to find?” he asked. “We don’t necessarily need confirmation he’s an asset. You can just work on the assumption he is and plan accordingly.”

  “Charlie wanted me to find him for a reason. I can’t find that reason with only half his story.”

  “This is getting messier every day. I don’t like it. What the hell does one of our own have to do with the banks in Singapore? Why does Charlie think this involves us? And why now?”

  “All good questions. Here’s one more. Why the hell doesn’t Charlie know where one of his assets is?”

  They were both quiet for a moment, then she sighed and shook her head.

  “None of this makes any sense,” she said tiredly. “I feel like I’m trying to solve a riddle with every other word redacted.”

  “Agreed. It would help if Charlie had given you something more to go on in Singapore. Do you think this guy could be the one behind our shooter?”

  “It would make sense. It’s a start, anyway. If nothing else, it will lead us in the right direction.”

  Hawk sighed.

  “I hate being stuck here. What can I do to help? Anything?”

  “Actually, yes,” Viper said, opening a new email. “I’m sending you a name. Can you do some background for me?”

  “Sure. What kind?”

  “Whatever you can find,” she told him, typing an email and sending it. “While I’m hacking the Organization, you can work on the other one. See what you can dig up.”

  “Will do.” Hawk paused, then, “I just got it. Jordan Murphy? This is the guy from Iraq?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see what I can find. At least it will keep me from watching the damn TV. I can feel my brain dying in here.”

  Viper grinned.

  “Be thankful you’re not dead,” she told him ruthlessly. “How are you feeling?”

  “Stronger,” he said. “All that sleep did some good. I’m feeling more like myself.”

  “Good. What does the doc say?”

  “Not much. I think he’s surprised I’m still here, to be honest.”

  “Well, get better so you can get out of there,” Viper said, glancing at her watch. “I have to go. Michael and Angela will be back soon and I have some things I have to do before they come back.”

  “Angela? She’s there too?”

  Viper sighed.

  “Yes. I wasn’t going to let her anywhere near me, but Michael talked me into it. He thinks it’s safer for her here than anywhere else.”

  “Oh, he does? Does he realize what kind of labyrinth you’ve got tangled in?” Hawk demanded. “Now you just have someone else to worry about!”

  “He’s taking some of the flak for me. He’s with her now while she meets with the funeral director and the priest at the church. He’s doing his part. And she promised to stay put after the funeral and not contact the outside world. There’s really not much else I can do.”

  “He’s tagging along while she goes to the funeral home and the church?” Hawk sounded amused. “That must be painful. When is the funeral?”

  “Tomorrow. The viewing is tonight.”

  “Are you ok?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I doubt that,” he said. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.”

  “I know,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll get started on this Jordan Murphy guy,” Hawk said. “I’ll let you know what I find. Do you have a name on the other one? Or are you keeping it to yourself?”

  “Why? So you can poke around in that too? I don’t think so.”

  “Viper, you say that like you don’t trust me!”

  “I don’t,” she retorted bluntly. “I want you to focus on getting better. Let me take care of the heavy lifting.”

  Alina could almost feel his glare through the phone.

  “I just want a name to put with the idea. Just the first name, if you insist. I can’t do much with a first name.”

  She sighed.

  “Kyle. His name is Kyle.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Michael got out of the truck and closed the door, looking around. He was parked at the side of a wide, tree-lined street populated with a mix of large old Victorian and Colonial homes with spacious, well-groomed lawns. It looked like something out of a magazine...or a horror movie. Sleepy, picturesque town gets besieged by demons or zombies.

  Circling the truck, he glanced up at the impressive gray stone front of St. Peter’s Roman Catholic Church. Statues flanked the wide stone steps on either side, surrounded by flowers. A fountain around the side and to the right of the entrance offered peace and serenity with a bench and another statue. The front lawn was split in two by a walkway leading to the steps of the church with a bronze statue of St. Pete himself dominating one of the halves. On the right of the huge church was a smaller, square building that appeared to be a school. The two structures were separated by a narrow alleyway running from the street back to a parking lot behind the buildings. To the left of the church, a rather modest rectory sat at the end of path lined with rose bushes. All of the lawns were impeccably manicured. Clearly this was not a parish hurting for funds.

  “That’s the convent over there,” said Angela, climbing out of the truck and closing the door. She pointed to yet another stone building on the other side of the school. “The nuns teach at the school. Alina and Stephanie both went there.”

  “Really?” he asked, glancing over to the school. “You didn’t?”

  “No. I went to public school, thank God,” she said cheerfully. “Ask Lina for some of her horror stories sometime. She got into a lot of trouble with the nuns.”

  “That’s doesn’t surprise me one bit,” Michael said with a grin.

  They walked along the sidewalk in front of the church until they reached the path to the steps.

  “Where does that driveway go?” he asked, nodding to the alley between the school and church.

  “There’s a big lot behind the church,” Angela explained. “That’s probably where Joanne parked. There was a spot in the street so I didn’t think to tell you about it.”

  “No worries. Just curious.”

  Michael scanned the area around the entrance of the church as they walked up the path, noting the walkway running around the side in front of the fountain before leading to the rectory. He hated churches. They always had multiple entrances and exits. Even with a whole team they were a nightmare to secure, and he only had himself. For maybe the hundredth time, he silently cursed Damon for putting him in this position.

  “There’s Joanne,” Angela said, waving to the woman hurrying up from the alley.

  “Sorry I’m late!” the woman called breathlessly. “I just had to stop at Aunt Charlotte’s for some chocolate while I’m in town. Bill will kill me if I go back to the hotel without any. He’s been looking forward to it since we flew in.”

  “Don’t worry! We just got here ourselves,” Angela answered with a smile. “Is Father Angelo expecting us in the church or over at the rectory?”

  “The church.”

  Joanne bustled to a stop in front of them, her bleached hair blowing in the breeze. She was a tall woman, still attractiv
e in her later years, and full of energy. The dark rings under her eyes bespoke sleepless nights after the death of her only child, but she was putting on a good front. Michael got the impression appearances meant a lot to her.

  “He’s probably inside. Shall we?” she asked, starting up the steps.

  Michael started after the women. His foot was on the second step when his phone started ringing. He reached into his pocket, smiling apologetically as the two women turned to look at him.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “You two go ahead. I’ll catch up. I have to take this.”

  “Ok. Just go through the vestibule into the sanctuary,” Angela said, turning to continue up the steps.

  Michael nodded and returned to the sidewalk.

  “Thank God,” he answered the phone in relief, his voice low.

  “Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good,” Blake said with a laugh. “What’s going on?”

  “You caught me about to step foot in a church for the first time in years,” Michael told him, turning to walk along the sidewalk towards the fountain. “I’m keeping an eye on Angela while she does funeral stuff.”

  “Funeral stuff?”

  “Yeah. We went to the funeral home, and now we’re at the church.”

  “Well that doesn’t sound like a good time.”

  Michael looked at the fountain and the statue of Mary, then continued along the path. About halfway down was another, steeper set of stone steps leading up to another door. Another entrance to the church. He stifled a sigh.

  “It’s not. I had to listen for over forty-five minutes while Angela and John’s mother debated the pros and cons of white versus cream flowers.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Mind you, they’d already ordered the flowers. It was already a done deal.”

  “Then...why the debate?” Blake asked.

  “I have no idea,” Michael confessed, shaking his head. “It was a complete waste of time. I still don’t know why they went.”