Kodiak Sky (Red Cell Trilogy Book 3) (16 page)

But he quickly forgot about the antique and zeroed in on the flat-screen when he heard the anchor using the terms “Supreme Court,” “Chief Justice Bolger,” and “dead in an apparent traffic accident on Constitution Avenue.”

“My God,” he whispered.

“I told you,” Camilla said triumphantly. “Maybe now you’ll put the TV on in the morning.”

As she turned away and headed out of the study, one of Espinosa’s cell phones began to ring. A chill crawled up his spine when he looked at the tiny screen lying on his desk beside the briefcase. Stewart Baxter was already calling.

“Hello.”

“How are you this morning, Henry?”

“Fine, Stewart.”

“Have you gotten the terrible news about Chief Justice Bolger?” Baxter asked.

“I just did.”

“Awful stuff, but the business of running this country must go on. Don’t you agree?”

Espinosa took a shallow breath. He didn’t want Baxter to hear the nerves that were having their way with him. “Yes.”

“I thought you would. Look, President Dorn wanted me to call and let you know that he’ll be nominating you to replace Bolger as chief justice in the next few days, if not sooner.” Baxter hesitated. “I’m assuming you will accept that nomination.” He paused again. “Henry?
Henry?
”

A few moments later Espinosa ended the call with Baxter. He’d just accepted the nomination from his president to be the most important jurist in the world. He should have been overjoyed and overwhelmed. But he wasn’t. He was scared.

Scared like he was standing on a dark beach with a massive tsunami racing at him and his feet were stuck in the sand with no way of running.

S
TERLING SAT
in a comfortable chair of his Four Seasons Hotel suite overlooking the east end of Georgetown, supremely satisfied with how things were going. It had been just thirty-six hours since he’d left the jungles of Peru, but already, nine of his assassins had made it to Washington. Another four would arrive by noon, and the rest would be here by mid-afternoon. They would all meet tonight as a team to begin planning the most challenging and profitable mission he’d ever directed. By tomorrow morning the mission would be well under way.

Success of this mission would be so damn satisfying. The incredible amount of money was undeniably the most important incentive in all of this. But knowing he’d pulled off the most incredible attack ever on the United States would end up running a very close second to banking three hundred million-plus—less, of course, what he’d owe his people. This attack would ultimately be exponentially more shocking to the world than 9/11. Vulnerable civilians were one thing. But to kill so many of America’s highest-ranking officials in one day?

Years later, on his deathbed maybe, he’d finally admit to leading the attacks by providing a level of detail and insider knowledge of the operation that would prove he was in charge. He would be famous—or infamous. He didn’t care which it turned out to be, as long as everyone knew his name, because that was the goal these days. It was all that mattered to the new generation, which he desperately wanted to be part of. Being “in the news” was the ultimate. And it didn’t matter how you did it as long as you did. You could be a sports hero or a rock star. You could even be a serial killer, or idiot sisters who displayed their personal lives for all to see just for fame and fortune. It didn’t matter as long as you were famous. The Kardashians proved that.

Sterling moaned loudly, grabbed a fistful of the prostitute’s long, soft, dark hair, and tilted his head back in bliss. She was kneeling in front of him on the floor, kissing and licking him gently one moment, then taking him deep down her throat the next.

“Holy shit!”

The woman shrieked as Sterling rose up from the chair and pushed her roughly away. He’d been half-listening to the television, as he always half-listened to and half-watched everything going on around him.

“Holy shit,” he repeated as he stared at the anchorwoman, this time in a whisper. “Chief Justice Bolger is dead.” His cell phone rang seconds later. “Hello.”

“Did you do this?” Gadanz demanded from the other end of the line.

“No, I did not. And settle down.”

“Will it impact what we’re trying to do?”

“I’m not sure,” Sterling answered calmly. Gadanz was worried as hell, and Sterling loved it, because that panic spelled opportunity, as any panic always did—as long as it wasn’t yours. Maybe now was the time to demand even more money. “But I’ll let you know.”

J
ACK HELD
on to Karen tightly as they moved slowly down the jetway. She could have used a wheelchair, but that wasn’t her way. It wasn’t that she would have felt self-conscious because everyone was watching her, he knew. It was that using a wheelchair would have been, in a small way, giving in. And Karen never gave in. She always fought as hard as she possibly could. She never retreated in anything she did.

Finally, he eased her into the wide seat 1B of the huge Airbus, which would be taking off for Paris in twenty-seven minutes. Then he moved past her and sat down beside her in 1A.

“May I get you something to drink?” the flight attendant asked.

“Grey Goose on the rocks,” Karen answered.

“Nice,” the young man said with an approving nod. “You, sir?”

“Same,” Jack answered. “It’s our honeymoon. A little delayed in coming, but we’re going to have a great time.”

“Awesome. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Jack reached over for Karen’s hand. Two weeks in France. This was going to be wonderful. It would be a time for them to get away from everything, with just each other. “You okay?”

“I couldn’t be better, sweetheart.”

“Great, I—” As he reached for his cell phone, which had just started to ring, Karen rolled her eyes. “Sorry, honey.”

“You told me you were going to turn that off.”

“I will,” he whispered just before he answered. “Hey, Troy, what’s up?”

“Little Jack’s been kidnapped.”

A burst of fear-adrenaline rushed through Jack’s body.
“What?”
It quickly turned to rage.

“It happened about thirty minutes ago,” Troy explained. “Mom took him with her into Greenwich this morning to run some errands. They were walking back to her car to go home, and a van pulled up out of nowhere, two guys jumped out, they grabbed L.J., and that was it. It was over that fast.”

Jack glanced over at Karen as the flight attendant leaned in and put their drinks down on the wide armrest between the seats. Karen was staring back at him. “Any word from the kidnappers?” he asked.

“Nothing. And did you hear about Chief Justice Bolger?” Troy went on quickly.

“No. What happened?”

“A truck slammed into his car early this morning as he was driving through DC. He’s dead. It’s being called an accident, and the driver checks out.” Troy hesitated. “But I don’t know. I’ve got a strange feeling about all this.”

“I hear you.”

“I need you, Jack. I’ve gotta get my son back.” Troy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about everything that happened last night,” he said quietly. “I mean it.”

“I know. So am I.” Troy’s sincerity was unmistakable.

“One more thing, just so you know.”

“What?”

“Jennie and I broke up last night after the party.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. She just couldn’t take me being away so much.”

“I get it.” It was for the best, Jack figured. The bad feelings between them had been palpable last night. “I’m on my way.” After he ended the call, he glanced over at Karen again. “I’ve got to—”

“I heard,” she interrupted, starting to pull herself out of the seat with a huge effort. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry.”

She pressed two fingers to his lips. “Stop it. I heard what Troy said. I just wish I could go after L.J. with you.”

CHAPTER 23

“H
OW DO
you know of me?”

“I knew a man who knew your father.”

“I need more than that.”

“You’re not getting it,” Baxter replied evenly. “You’re here to serve your president, Commander McCoy, not to ask questions.”

Baxter wasn’t in a great mood to begin with. Dorn was out on the stream getting his fishing in while he had his chief of staff inside doing the dirty work. And what Baxter interpreted as youthful arrogance from the woman wasn’t helping matters.

“Do you understand?”

As Baxter had been rigging up a four-weight rod outside his cabin thirty minutes ago, he’d been informed by one of the president’s aides that he’d be forgoing the fishing to have breakfast with Commander McCoy. Turned out Dorn was impressed with the young woman. The Secret Service was, too, particularly the agents who’d fallen victim to her eerily good ability to stalk prey—and, as she’d predicted, had awoken with epic headaches. At least they’d awoken.

Dorn was impatient to take action, as usual. Though the message from the aide said only to have breakfast with McCoy, because the aide couldn’t
know any details, the president’s intent was clear. He wanted to take on
Red Cell Seven immediately; he wanted Commander McCoy to lead the
attack; and he wanted Baxter to make certain McCoy agreed to join the fight.

“I could walk out of here and go back to what I was doing before if you don’t tell me.”

It was sobering for Baxter to sit across from someone who he was confident could kill him three times over in the moments it would take a Secret Service agent to make it inside this intimate breakfast nook from the double doors that were behind Commander McCoy’s chair.

“And I could have you arrested for insubordination, sent to a south Florida facility the CIA maintains in the Everglades, and you’d never see the light of day again.”

“I’d escape in no time. You’d simply be signing death warrants for a few agents at that camp, because I’d have to kill them to get out. I’ve been to that facility several times. I wouldn’t advise sending me there if you want to keep me penned up for more than twenty-four hours.”

“Yeah, well—”

“It doesn’t impress me that it’s the president who called,” Skylar interrupted. “In the last two years, I’ve probably killed at least a hundred people, all from very close range. Not from across a battlefield, Mr. Baxter. Less than a week ago I killed a twelve-year-old boy because my country ordered me to. Can you even come close to grasping what I’m talking about, what that’s like?”

“No,” he murmured, “of course not.”

Baxter understood very well what she’d done and how it had made her feel. His time in the Office of Naval Intelligence hadn’t been spent cooped up inside an office. But he didn’t want her to know that. He wanted her to underestimate him. Training died hard.

“What’s going on here, Mr. Baxter?”

“There is a clear and present danger with one of this country’s most elite and secret intelligence cells. The cell has gone rogue. We need you to lead the effort to destroy it.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Really?” For the first time she seemed impressed.

“Yes.”

“How do you know it’s gone rogue?”

“Let’s make fully certain we both understand each other before we get to that level of detail.”

“Okay, why me for the job?”

“You come highly recommended.”

“From whom?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Mr. Baxter, I—”

“It doesn’t matter why we chose you, Commander McCoy. We have a serious security issue for the country and for the president, and we need to solve it immediately.” Baxter hesitated. “Haven’t you noticed all
the agents running around here this morning? Can’t you hear that heli
copter?”

She turned her head slightly and concentrated for a few moments. “That isn’t just one helicopter, sir. I count four.”

Baxter masked a grin as he spooned oatmeal from the bowl in front of him, making certain to include several raisins in the spoonful. He would have had no idea how many helicopters were circling around out there if someone had asked. But he had no doubt that the number she’d just given him was accurate. Commander McCoy had an unsettlingly impressive confidence about her. President Dorn had picked up on that, too. She was one of those people in life who actually hit the hype. They’d both recognized it immediately.

“I think you just answered the ‘why me’ question,” Baxter said. “Now, let’s get down to those details.”

“I need to know, sir.”

He glanced up just as he was about to consume the spoonful of oatmeal. “What?”

“I need to know who that man was, the man who knew my father.”

She wasn’t going any further until she had an answer. That was clear. “It wasn’t just some man who knew your father, Commander McCoy,” he answered as he slowly put the spoon back down into the bowl. “It was me. I knew your father, Kevin, directly from my days in the Office of Naval Intelligence.”

All of this information was still highly classified, but it didn’t really need to be anymore. And hopefully, knowing all of it would quickly get her over her doubts about what was going on here.

“Your father wasn’t just a crab boat captain, Commander. Occasionally, he and his crew worked with the United States government as well when they were out on the Bering Sea, specifically for ONI.”

“How?”

“They dropped off and picked up U.S. spies to and from our submarines. Spies who were going to or coming back from top-secret missions all over Asia. By using your father’s ship, the intelligence officers could keep a low profile as they left for missions or were on their way home. It was perfect. Your father was a brave man. He operated those missions in any kind of weather.”

“I already knew how brave he was,” Skylar said quietly.

“There’s something else you might want to know.”

“What’s that?”

“The name of your father’s ship.”

“It was the
Alaskan Star
,” she said. “I knew that from a long time ago, when I was a little girl. He took me out on it a few times. I loved that ship. Tell me something I don’t know, Mr. Baxter.”

She’d fallen right for it, and Baxter rather liked that. “
Alaskan Star
was its christened name, Commander McCoy. But that wasn’t its code name at ONI.” Baxter stared back at her for several moments as she gazed at him, and what he saw in the intensity of her expression was fascinating. It was as if she knew what he was going to say and the emotion was already affecting her. “Your father was very specific about what he wanted the classified name of his vessel to be. Inside ONI, it was called the
Kodiak Sky
.” As he spoke the words her eyes went glassy. Just for an instant, but she’d been affected. “Now,” he continued, “let’s get to those details,
Sky
.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”