Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (27 page)

No,
whoever it is, is working for the Keepers.

That
made him feel a little better, and it also made the list a little smaller.

They’re
all men.

He shook
his head.

You
don’t know that.

It made
sense that the Keepers might have infiltrated the Church. In fact, he’d be
stunned if they hadn’t.

He
smiled.

He knew
a way he might be able to narrow the list down even further.

And he’d
begin with his most likely candidate.

A
candidate he hoped wasn’t involved.

Prayed
wasn’t involved.

His good
friend, his second-in-command, Gerard Boileau.

He
pulled up the man’s Facebook page, the two friends online for years.

So he
had full access to his photos.

He began
flipping through them, searching for anything that might reveal what he was
looking for, but the man seemed always to be wearing a suit or button up shirt.

He
smiled.

Vacation
photos, Sardinia.

Shot
after shot of the man’s wife and kids, then finally what he was looking for.

Boileau
in a shirt, a few buttons undone.

What
is that?

It
wasn’t a tattoo, but there was something. A discoloration of some sort.

A
scar?

It
almost appeared to be, yet it was hard to tell. There was definitely something,
though. He pulled up Boileau’s file, skimming through it. There were no
references to any chest issues, no leave for heart surgery, and he had known
the man long enough to know that if he had gone through anything serious while
they were working together, he’d be the first to know.

Whatever
it was, predated their knowing each other, so it was easily a decade old.

His eyes
closed as he realized it had to be what he feared.

And his
heart sank.

CIA Safe House, Rome, Italy

Acton grunted then bolted awake, Mr. Verde shaking his shoulder. A
wave of guilt at finally giving into sleep swept over him. “What?”

Verde
handed him a phone. “You’ve got to take this call. The kidnappers called your
wife’s phone and left a message. They know you left the hotel. We had a
recording set up to make it sound like you guys had returned and were sleeping,
but that’s been found out.”

“Our
room was bugged?” asked Laura, waking beside him.

“Yes.
They say they’re going to kill your mother and if you don’t call back within
the next few minutes, your father as well.”

Acton’s
heart slammed in his chest and bile filled his mouth as the blood rushed
through his ears, everything losing focus.

Mom!

Laura
grabbed him, squeezing him tight as he fought for control. It was his fault,
all his fault. If he had just left well enough alone, his parents would be safe
at home, his mother would be alive.

You
have to save Dad.

He
blinked away the tears, sucking in a deep breath as he took the outstretched
phone.

“It’s
Langley, they’re going to route the call so they can trace it.”

“Won’t
they know that it can’t be Laura’s phone? If they know we’re not in the hotel
room, they know the phones were left there as well.”

Verde
shook his head. “No, just say you checked the voicemail. Tell them that Giasson
arranged the pickup and that you were taken to a house, you don’t know the
address, because he was concerned for your safety. Stress that no authorities
were contacted, and that you thought the phone had been forwarded but it must
not have been set up properly. Tell them that you just found out about the
recording, and that it was made by Giasson. You had nothing to do with it.”

He
nodded, hoping that laying all the blame at their friend’s feet wasn’t going to
cause more problems for him.

“Now
keep calm, you need to be able to think.”

He inhaled
deeply and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“One
moment, Professor Acton, while we route your call.”

There
was a click then the phone rang. It was immediately answered. “Hello?”

“It’s
me, Jim Acton.”

“Professor
Acton. You didn’t follow our instructions.”

Acton
tried to remember everything Verde had told him, but he was drawing a blank.
Everyone stared at him, their eyes bulging as if they were all trying to urge
him to say something.

“Yes, I
did.” His heart nearly stopped as the words came out.

“You
deceived us.”

“Of
course. You’ve killed six people. I wasn’t about to risk you killing my wife,
so we went into hiding.”

“You
broke your word.”

Acton
felt his mouth dry and he motioned for water, Laura jumping up to get it from
the kitchen. “No, I did no such thing. You said I wasn’t allowed to contact the
authorities, and that I was to remain silent as to where my phone ended up. You
said nothing about having to remain where I was, or to remain in constant
contact.”

“Your
deception has cost you your mother’s life.”

Acton
felt a rage build inside him, his lip curling into a sneer. His voice lowered
to almost a growl. “If you kill her, I will tell the world where you are.”

There
was a chuckle. “Don’t threaten me, Professor, when I am holding all the cards.
As you said before, we most likely are no longer where you think we are.”

Acton
took a sip of the water Laura held out to him, handing it back. “If that were
true, then I doubt you would be going to such trouble.” There was no reply.
Got
you!
“If you want your precious secret kept, then don’t you dare touch my
mother.”

“Professor
Acton, you seem to think you are in a position to bargain. You mother’s fate is
sealed due to your actions. Don’t let your father’s be as well.”

The call
ended with a click, and Acton jumped to his feet, whipping the phone across the
room.

“No!”

West Pratt Street, Baltimore, Maryland

Sherrie stared up at the tall condo building, Mr. Gervin apparently
occupying the penthouse. She popped her trunk and began to suit up as Fang’s
vehicle rushed up behind her. The Asian woman climbed out and nodded toward the
building.

“Is that
it?”

Sherrie
nodded.

“Wow! Is
he a member of the ruling class?”

“Wrong
country.”

Fang
shrugged. “I watch the news, they’re all the same.”

Sherrie
handed her a vest, an array of weapons in a hidden compartment in the floor of the
trunk. She selected two Glocks, several mags, a suppressor, a knife, three small
explosive charges, and night vision goggles. Fitting an earpiece in place, she
activated her comm, handing a second unit to Fang as she too began to gear up.

“Control,
Freebird-Zero-Two, comm check, over.”

“Freebird-Zero-Two,
reading you five by five, over.”

“Roger
that, Control. Do you have eyes on us?”

“Negative,
Freebird, we should have target acquisition in less than sixty seconds.”

Sherrie
flipped up another panel in the trunk and removed a small drone. She handed it
to Fang whose eyes widened slightly in surprise.

“It’s
light.”

Sherrie
grinned. “But awesome.” She activated the app on her phone and the blades spun
up, it lifting out of Fang’s outstretched hands. Directing it to the penthouse
of the complex across the street, she watched the camera view on her display.
Within moments, it was in position and she set it to hover, its numerous
cameras filming every angle, transmitting regular spectrum and infrared.

“Langley,
are you getting this?”

“Confirmed,
Freebird. We’re showing eight heat signatures. Two appear to be in a hallway
near an elevator, four are in the condo unit with two others in an adjacent
room. It appears the two separate signatures are your targets, visual indicates
they are tied to chairs, over.”

Sherrie
gave a thumbs up to Fang, happy her hunch had been correct. “What are your
instructions, Control?”

“Freebird,
this is Control-Actual.” Sherrie smiled and her heart skipped as she recognized
her boyfriend’s voice. “We’ve just received confirmation that they intend to
kill Mrs. Acton. Be prepared to make entry, but hold until backup arrives.”

“ETA?”

“Fifteen
minutes.”

Sherrie
looked at Fang who shook her head. “She’ll be dead by then,” whispered the
Chinese exile.

Sherrie
nodded in agreement. A hostage was going to die, and she wasn’t about to let it
happen. “Negative, Control. We’re going in.”

“Negative,
Freebird, you’re outnumbered three to one.”

Fang
help up a finger. “Control, Freebird-Zero-Three. We acknowledge the count, but
they’re six men and we’re two women. It’s not a problem, out.”

Sherrie
grinned. “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Leroux yanked his headset off, looking at Sonya. “Did they just shut
off their comms?”

Sonya
stifled a smile, nodding. “Comms are down. Maybe there’s a problem?” she
suggested, Leroux giving her a look, pointing at the display showing the drone
footage. “Umm, sorry, boss. I guess she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Morrison
entered before Leroux had a chance to respond, though he wasn’t sure what he
would say, the young woman clearly taking delight in his domestic issues.

“Report.”

Leroux
looked at him, part of him fuming at what had just happened, not because he was
truly angry at an order being disobeyed, but because his girlfriend was about
to put herself in grave danger.

Would
you feel the same way if it were any other agent?

He had
to admit to himself that he probably wouldn’t. In fact, he’d probably applaud
them for being so brave, for putting their lives at risk to save an innocent
civilian against such odds.

Yet
things
were
different. It was his girlfriend, the woman he loved, the
only woman he had ever completely opened up to.

He couldn’t
lose her.

And now
he knew why he wasn’t supposed to be directing ops with her, why nobody was
supposed to have a personal relationship with someone whose life may one day be
in their hands.

He
sucked in a deep breath. “Sherrie—I mean Agent White—has found the hostages.
She and Lee Fang are effecting an entrance.”

“Backup?”

“Kane is
ten minutes out, FBI fifteen.”

“How
many hostiles?”

“Six.
Four inside the apartment, two in the hallway by the elevator.”

“How are
they getting in?”

Leroux
shook his head. “Comm problems. I don’t know.”

“Sir,
we’ve got a visual.”

Leroux
turned to Child. “Put it up.”