Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (78 page)

Perry was watching the scientists in their lab coats on the monitors in his office when someone knocked on his door and he received word of the units of Egyptians he’d left behind that had been dismantled by the agencies. Perry crumpled the paper in his fist. The messenger said nothing, waiting for Perry to either give him instructions or tell him to leave.

The dead body was still in the room with the others, rotting on the floor while the living worked tirelessly to ensure they didn’t share the same fate. Perry imagined the smell was getting to them now, and even on the video screens, he could see the flies buzzing around the corpse. “How many were captured?” A dead man couldn’t talk, but a living one could share secrets.

“Hard to say, but those that have survived the raids were taken into custody by the CIA.”

Not Homeland. Perry assumed his old agency would be on the ropes after his departure. Having a top-level security leak didn’t help your organization amid such a tremulous national crisis. “I want a status on our remaining contacts in the field, and go and check on our brains down in the lab. I don’t need any of them losing their lunch on our equipment.”

The messenger gave a slight bow and left Perry alone to dwell on the images on the screen. The engineers had been working for almost thirty-six hours straight, and while the dead body was no doubt gruesome to leave behind, he’d managed to get his desired result. More than half of the firewalls on the device had been disabled. It wouldn’t be long before he would have control over every land-based nuclear missile in the country.

Perry set the crumpled paper his messenger had given him on the desk then slowly peeled it back open, smoothing it out on the desk’s surface. He looked over the paper more carefully, searching for the agent in charge, then smiled. He reached for his phone and dialed. A few rings later, the confused voice of Agent Cooper answered.

“It’s good to see you’re moving up in the world.” Perry leaned back in his chair, the crumpled paper outlining the details of the raid she’d just been involved in. “Your method of going against the grain finally paid off.”

“Who gave you this number, Perry?”

“Worried I’ve still got people close to you under my thumb? Well, I’ll let you squirm with that for a little while longer.”

“Having some trouble with the Taipan? Our analysts say you haven’t cracked it yet.”

The smile Perry sported slowly faded from his face, and while he maintained a chipper tone, his mouth curved in frustration. “Upgraded your clearance, have they? Well, I’m sure you’ll do a better job than your partner. Did you end up going to Agent Diaz’s funeral?” The remark struck a chord, as Cooper remained silent, and Perry’s frown returned to the lighthearted smile he had previously worn. “My sources tell me you emptied your clip into his chest. More deadly than those blanks you’re used to on your old undercover operations.”

“I’m going to find you, Perry. When I do, you better hope that it’s only bullets I use to kill you.”

“If that ever happens, no one will be more surprised than I. But before your GPS tracker locates my position, I need you to deliver a message for me.”

“For whom?”

“Why, the one person who brought us together. Our dear captain.”

***

Dylan rubbed his eyes as best he could with the steel manacles binding his wrists. His lawyer had repeatedly asked for them to be taken off, but the prosecution felt it necessary to show strong power over the suspect. For Dylan, the restraints weren’t so much the problem as the fine print on the agreement. “I don’t see anything in here about Mark’s visitation rights.” Dylan set the document down and leaned back, looking to his counsel, who had their heads down, then to the attorney general.

“Peter Harth has filed an injunction to keep Mr. Hurley out of the children’s lives, and the judge is giving it some thought,” the attorney general answered.

“Some thought?” Dylan raised his left eyebrow, the presence of the restraints now getting in his way. “Peter doesn’t have any right to do that. Mark is—”

“Not related to your children in any way, shape, or form,” the attorney general answered. “When Peter and your late ex-wife Evelyn were married, she gave him full power of attorney in the event of her death, as well as all her custody rights, which allow him the veto of anyone he doesn’t want around his children.”

Dylan gritted his teeth. “They’re not his children. They’re mine, and if I can’t be with them, then I want them with someone I can trust. They need someone that’s familiar.” Dylan turned to his counsel, still with their heads down, seemingly trying to stay out of it. “There has to be something you can do. He was named their godfather, for Christ’s sake!”

One of Dylan’s attorneys, a beady-eyed, pencil-necked man in his thirties with the receding hairline of a man in his fifties, finally spoke up. “Mr. Turk, Mr. Hurley doesn’t have any authority with that unless both parents have passed, and Mr. Harth’s custody rights supersede any of yours. It’s well within his rights to do what he thinks his best for the children.”

“His rights?” Dylan slammed his fists onto the table, the metal cuffs clanging and adding to the thunder that was Dylan’s outburst. “If we are going to speak about rights, then why don’t we talk about mine and how they were taken from me the moment a member of the United States government’s biggest intelligence agency decided to mark me and my family for his own personal gain. An individual who snuck by every other official and corrupted the people around him. I will not have any of you lecture me on what is right. None of you can even comprehend that word.” Dylan felt the steam rising off his body.

The attorney general was the only one who kept eye contact with Dylan, and from that, he knew the man understood. He walked over and sat on the edge of the table on Dylan’s end. “Mr. Turk, what you’ve gone through is something that no parent, any citizen of the United States for that matter, should ever go through. But you did. It was your boat the terrorists boarded. It was your son they took. And it was you who chose to not tell the authorities about Perry.”

“He was going to kill my son!” Dylan flashed his teeth and felt the curl of his upper lip. If he could have gotten up from the chair at that moment, he would have wrapped his hands around the lawyer’s neck and squeezed the life out of him.

“Well, you have what you wanted. Your son is safe, along with your daughter. Your ex-wife seemed to understand the need of sacrifice to protect her children.” The attorney general pulled a pen from the inside of his jacket and set it on top of the agreement. “Do you?”

Dylan was speechless. The moment this had all started, Dylan had told himself all he cared about was making sure his boy was safe, that Sean got out alive. He had accomplished that, and now it was time for him to pay the price. And the cost was his life in prison without the chance to ever see his children again. Dylan picked up the pen without another word and flipped through the legal document until he made it to the last page, where it required his signature. He scribbled his name then dated it and shoved the paper and pen away.

“You made the right decision, Mr. Turk.” The attorney general gathered up the papers then pocketed the pen. “I’ll get this in front of the judge this afternoon, and we’ll schedule the hearing for next week.” His phone rang, and he was at the door of the conference room when he answered then stopped and turned around, looking at Dylan as he spoke. “You’re sure? How credible is the sou—”

An uneasy churn circled Dylan’s stomach, and he leaned forward. The attorney general hung up the phone and dropped the agreement Dylan had just signed onto the table. “We have a problem. I need to speak with your counsel alone.”

Before Dylan had a chance to say anything, the attorney general motioned for one of the guards to escort him out of the conference room and into his cell. They hurried him past the other inmates, all of them hissing, shouting their curses.

With the mainstream news broadcasting Dylan’s story, word of his presence inside the federal penitentiary had spread, and Dylan was forced into solitary confinement on his first day due to fear that someone would kill him before he was able to sign the plea agreement his lawyers had set up.

Rapists, murderers, and thieves were Dylan’s peers, and every single one of them looked down on him as if he was the scum of the earth. Once past the barrage of threats, the correctional officers thrust him into the cell, where one guard uncuffed his wrists while the other made sure Dylan didn’t make any sudden moves.

Finally, with the shackles removed, both guards locked the cell and left Dylan alone. He paced back and forth in the cramped space, only eight feet from the back to front, and half as wide.

The longer Dylan had to wait, the more violent the sour pit in his stomach churned, and with no clock, his sense of time was useless. He couldn’t tell if he had been waiting for one hour or three, ten minutes or forty minutes. The anxiety built to a crescendo when his cell door opened and Cooper stepped inside.

“Hello, Captain.”

It was like seeing a ghost. Dylan felt his mouth go dry. He smacked his lips fruitlessly. It took a few tries before anything actually came out. “What are you doing here?” His eyes went to the folder in Cooper’s hand as she walked around the cell, looking at everything but him.

“I heard they let you attend the funeral,” Cooper said then finally turned to meet his gaze. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“If it wasn’t for you, I would have been able to save her.” Dylan’s words were bitter, resentful, and he could see the effect they had on Cooper as some of the color drained from her face. “I don’t have anything to say to you. Guard!”

“They’ll come when we’re finished.” Cooper took a seat on the edge of the cot and laid the folder down next to her then motioned for Dylan to pick it up. “New plea bargain. The attorney general just put it together.”

Dylan picked it up hesitantly but didn’t open it. “Why’d they send you to give it to me?”

“Dylan, what you’ve been through...” Cooper rubbed her palms together, shaking her head. She fidgeted with her hands uncomfortably. “It’s been more than anyone in your position should be asked to take on.” She looked up at him. “Perry reached out. To me. He wants to speak with you.”

Dylan tossed the folder back onto the bed without even looking at it. “I’m done with him. I’m done with you. I’m done with all of this shit. Understand? I’m done!” He turned his back and leaned against the rear cell wall. What would Perry want with him? What was the game now?

“You’re not done,” Cooper replied. “And if you think your family is still safe—”

Dylan spun around so quickly and was on Cooper so fast that the guards jumped inside, but they stopped once Dylan didn’t lay a hand on her. “My family is safe! Perry can’t reach them anymore.” Spit flew from his lips, and he was close enough to Cooper’s face to see the red veins in her eyes.

Cooper took a step back, her hands in the air, until she made it to the cell door. “Read the file, Dylan.” And with that, she disappeared, and the guards locked the door.

Dylan paced back and forth so many times a rut formed in the concrete underneath his feet. He eyed the folder then sat down next to it. Whatever was inside couldn’t be good, especially if Perry had anything to do with it. Finally, he picked up the folder and scanned the first page then quickly read the second and third.

When Dylan was done, he reread it a second time, making sure he didn’t misunderstand anything. Still in a haze of shock, he laid down. The scratchy cloth from the bedspread scraped against his back. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his mind.

If everything in the report was true, then this could be a way for Dylan to be with his family. As long as he could deliver. And as long as he didn’t die in the process.

The attorney general signed off on the papers with an aggressive swing of the pen then flung them at Dylan and Cooper, who sat across the table, backed by Dylan’s lawyers. He got up, walked to the door then stopped and turned around. “I’ll make one thing clear. To both of you.” Whatever cordial manner or air of sophistication he used to have was immediately washed away. “This deal didn’t come from me. This is an executive order. From the president. That’s how big all this is. And if it doesn’t work, that failure will be on both of you. Can you handle that? Can you handle that type of weight?”

“It’s nothing we haven’t carried already,” Cooper answered.

“Yeah,” the attorney general said. “We’ll see about that.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving Cooper and Dylan with the lawyers.

Dylan folded his hands together, looking back to his counsel. “So what now?”

“Now you have to deliver,” Cooper said. “This deal is only good for as long as you and Perry are in communication. I don’t know what he thinks he’ll be able to gain from speaking with you, but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is you find out where he is and how far along he’s gotten with the Taipan.”

“And my family?”

“They’re under lock and key,” Cooper answered. “We have them with the best. Perry won’t be able to get to them this time. But if he decides he wants to start launching nukes, then there won’t be a safe house in the country that will keep your family protected. Remember that.”

It was a tall task, Dylan knew. But the tantalizing light at the end of the tunnel, his freedom, being with his children, having a chance at something good and normal again, all that was his drive to stay focused. “Now what?”

“Perry set up a time to speak with you this evening. He’ll be teleconferencing in. The idea is to keep him on the line long enough for us to get a location.”

“You don’t think he’ll know that and have something to stop us from finding him?”

“We know he will.” Cooper clapped Dylan on the back of the shoulder. “That’s why it’ll be important for you to keep him talking.”