The ambulance's lights and siren screamed to life as it drove away from the building.
An hour later, Rebecca sat outside the base’s Military Police station. A light breeze blew through her hair. The sun hung low and fat on the horizon, bathing the trees and buildings in a deep orange glow.
An SUV pulled up in front of her and Josh got out. He walked up to her, a troubled look in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Where’s the rest your detail?”
She sighed. “They’re inside. I slipped out the side door. Needed some fresh air. It smells like old coffee and motor oil in there.”
Josh struggled to keep an angry look plastered on his face, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Well, it’s about to smell worse, ‘cause someone is gonna get their ass chewed out big time over this.”
“No sign of them?” Rebecca asked.
Josh shook his head. “Oh, there’s plenty of signs … They found the ambulance on the outskirts of the base. The MP assigned to them was inside, unconscious. The paramedics were tied up and blindfolded. They think the woman, this ‘Red Phoenix,’ administered a sedative to the girl in the bathroom. The whole thing was planned. There’s no record of them leaving the base, cameras didn’t see anything, but …”
“Forget it. He’s long gone.” Rebecca looked up at him and bit her lip. Her long crimson hair reflected the orange glow of the setting sun. “It’s my fault. I should have known better.”
“We’ll find him. I’ll call it in, get a surveillance order on—”
“Don’t bother,” she said, cutting him off. “Just find Lapinski.”
“What about Caine?”
“If you find Ted Lapinski, I guarantee you’ll find Caine. He’s going after him.”
“Why would he do that?”
Rebecca looked up at the sky. The setting sun had turned the rolling clouds into a mosaic of fiery orange and pink.
“I told him about the attack, at the farmhouse. He thinks he’s protecting me.”
Josh looked her in the eye. “Is there something I should know? What’s the story with you two anyway?”
Rebecca rolled over to the SUV and waited as the lift for her chair lowered itself to the ground.
“There is no story. Not anymore.”
Josh stared at her for a moment, then walked over to the driver’s side. “Whatever you say, Boss,” he muttered to himself.
He got into the SUV and slammed the door shut. They drove off the base in silence.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Ted Lapinski fumbled with his keys as he opened the lock to the tiny motel room. He had always known he might have to flee. He had lived with the threat of exposure, the fear of discovery for years. In some ways, this was a relief. He was finally out. It was ironic, but as a fugitive in hiding, he could finally stop worrying that someone would discover his greatest secret.
And his family … Teddy Junior. Julie, his wife. She had never known, never really understood him. They were better off without him now. Safer.
As the door’s lock clicked open, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
There were no messages.
Ted looked around the parking lot. The tiny strip of motel rooms sat alongside the 110W freeway in Baltimore, Maryland. It was late, but the traffic on the busy highway roared by. Car after car whizzed past, each on their way to an infinite number of destinations in the night.
The parking lot was empty save for a few nondescript sedans and a pair of Harley Davidson motorcycles. Lights from the motel beamed down on the vehicles and cast long, dark shadows over the rest of the empty lot.
Nothing moved in the shadows. The vehicles were empty. He was alone.
Ted had paid cash for the motel room. The car he had used in his flight was registered to a fake identity, one he had created for just such a purpose. Sooner or later, he knew, he would be spotted, traced. It was impossible to disappear in this day and age. He knew that better than anyone. But the more distance he could put between himself and his pursuers, the more time he had.
There was something he needed. Something he had been promised.
I WANT THE VIDEOS, he typed into the phone.
The phone was silent. There was no response.
“Son of a bitch!” Ted hissed as he opened the door and stepped into the dark room.
I DID AS YOU ASKED, he tapped. YOU PROMISED TO RELEASE THEM TO ME.
He closed the door behind him. The glow of the tiny cell phone screen was the only light in the pitch-black darkness of the room. From the corner of his eye he saw his unmade bed, the sheets a rumpled, tangled mess. Lime green curtains covered the front windows, which faced out towards the parking lot. The muted roar of the freeway traffic echoed through the small room.
He stared at the phone. There was still no response.
“Motherfucker,” he grunted through clenched teeth. He tossed the phone on the bed.
As the small screen of light flew through the room, he glimpsed movement to his left. He reached for the pistol tucked into his waistband.
His fingers wrapped around the butt of his tiny Smith & Wesson Bodyguard .380. Before he could aim, he felt an arm wrap around his neck and pull backwards. He stumbled back as another hand grabbed the wrist of his shooting hand. His wrist twisted back and he screamed as he felt the bones in his hand snap. The pistol tumbled to the floor.
His attacker spun him around. Ted ducked his head low and threw a punch towards the shadowy figure standing before him.
Instead of falling back, the figure darted in close and threw up an elbow. The explosive movement blocked Ted’s punch. The elbow drove forward, cracking into his jaw.
As his head snapped back, he felt a powerful kick slam into his gut. He stumbled away from his attacker, gasping for air. He felt himself trip, and fall, landing in the small, worn chair that sat in front of the room’s tiny desk. The springs in the chair creaked in protest as they compressed under his weight.
Before he could stand, he heard a familiar metallic click ring out. It was the slide on his pistol, racking back. A bright red dot pierced through the darkness and crawled up Ted’s shirt. It flared across his eyes, then landed at his forehead.
His Smith and Wesson pistol was equipped with an integrated laser sight.
“I wouldn’t do that, Ted.” It was a man’s voice. “Why don’t you have a seat.”
The room’s light clicked on. Ted found himself staring into a pair of cold, emerald-green eyes perched above the chiseled lines of a clenched jaw. The man was holding the pistol. It was aimed at his head.
“Do you know who I am?” the man asked.
Ted nodded. “Rebecca’s asset in China. Caine. I thought you were dead.”
Caine’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smirk. “Do I look dead to you, Lapinski?”
Ted’s eyes darted towards the door, then back to Caine. "How did you find me?”
“Oh, I had a little help from a friend. Her name is Betty Binary. You should get her resume. I think she might be better at facial recognition than some of your TAO boys.” Caine sat down on the bed, never taking his eyes off the terrified NSA operative.
“Okay, okay,” Ted babbled. “I get it, you want to kill me, but—”
“No, you’re wrong about that.”
Ted slumped in the chair and breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Smart. Look, I can help you. I know things, I—”
Caine’s eyes blazed above the pistol, silencing Ted with the power of their intense stare. “I said I don’t want to kill you, Ted. I can’t speak for her, though.”
Ted heard movement behind him. Before he could turn his head, a black silken cord looped around his neck. With a soft hiss, it pulled tight.
His hands shot up to his throat. He clawed at the cord, but he could not loosen it. He gasped for breath. His face began to turn a pale blue color.
The cord pulled tighter and yanked backwards. He felt the chair tipping back. He tumbled over and collapsed to the ground. The cord
bit deeper into his neck. His bulging eyes stared up into a woman’s face. Her mouth was a hard slash, and her eyes were two black pools of rage. She was dressed in her usual tactical gear, minus the hood and goggles.
It was her …
“Red Phoenix reporting,” she hissed.
“No, please!” he gurgled.
“Ne nuoruo de gou!” she said, twisting the cord tighter. “My daughter is only six years old. Do you know how scared she must have been? How does it feel, you piece of shit? Will you piss yourself before you take your last breath?”
Caine stepped into view. “You went after her kid, asshole. I wouldn’t expect any mercy there. Your best bet is to make yourself useful.” He nodded towards Jia. “You were running her, but someone else was running you. You were texting them just now, weren’t you. Who’s pulling your strings?”
The strangling cord turned his reply into a meaningless series of croaks and squeals.
“Jia, let him talk,” Caine said. She glared up at him, but then loosened her grip on the cord. Color rushed into Ted’s cheeks. He sucked in a lungful of air with a rattling wheeze.
“Last chance, Lapinski. Who was running you?”
“I don’t know, I swear!”
Caine’s eyes narrowed as he held up the pistol and aimed it again at Ted’s face. “Bullshit,” he said.
“I swear it’s true, I don’t know who they are. They had video of me. Doing things. A bar, in DC. Men … go there. They threatened to show my boss, my wife … I would have been compromised. I would have lost everything.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Caine growled.
“It had to be someone in the intelligence community. Someone high up. They knew about Rebecca, about you. And …” He looked up at Caine. “Bernatto … they must have been close to Bernatto.”
“Why do you say that?” Caine snapped. His voice was cold and sharp, like a blade of ice.
“They knew about Red Phoenix … I mean, her.” Ted looked up at Jia. “The kid. They knew everything. Only Bernatto had those details.”
Jia’s lips curled into a snarl. She slid a knife from a sheath on her combat harness. The metal gleamed in the dim light of the motel room. She pressed the blade against the skin of Ted’s cheek. A drop of crimson blood sprouted from his flesh and flowed down the knife’s razor-sharp edge.
“Give us something we can use, or I will skin you alive, yikuai fenbian!”
“I have records … I erased all our texts, but I kept an encrypted backup. I’ll turn them over, I can help you find them!”
Jia looked up at Caine. An unspoken question softened the rage in her wide, dark eyes.
Caine thought for a moment, then nodded. Jia released the cord from Ted’s neck. Again, the NSA operative sucked in lungfuls of air as Caine held up a cellphone. He kneeled down, bringing the phone close to Ted’s face.
He tapped the phone, and a picture of Rebecca filled the screen. “Rebecca Freeling,” he said. He swiped again, and the image was replaced by a picture. Jia’s daughter.
“Lian Zhao,” Jia said in a solemn voice.
Caine swiped again, and the picture was replaced by an image of Sean.
“Sean Tyler. These people are under our protection. And you’d better hope that from this point on, they lead charmed lives. Because if anything, and I mean anything happens to them …”
Caine pressed the barrel of the gun into Ted’s temple.
“If my daughter so much as catches cold, I will hunt you,” Jia hissed. She dragged the knife down the length of his body. The razor-sharp blade hovered a fraction of an inch above his skin, slicing through his clothes as if they were tissue paper.
The point of the blade stopped between his legs.
“I will find you,” she whispered into his ear. “And I will make you beg me for death. I will take my time with you.” She tilted her head and blinked. “Do you understand?”
“I get it! I get it!” Ted looked from her to Caine with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t let her—”
“You’re going to turn yourself over to Rebecca Freeling at the CIA,” Caine said. “You’re going to hand over your computers, all your records. Whatever info you have on these people. But most importantly, you’re going to remember something. Something you can’t ever forget.”
“What, what are you talking about?” Ted stuttered.
“Who’s running you?” Caine demanded.
“I told you, I don’t know, I—”
Caine slammed the butt of the pistol down on Ted’s nose. There was a loud crack as the delicate cartilage inside snapped and cracked. The man moaned in pain as blood sprayed across his shredded shirt.
“Wrong answer. Now think carefully. Who is running you?”
Caine’s green eyes glowered down at him, like jewels lit by the fires of the sun. Ted nodded his head. He understood.
“You are,” he whimpered. “You’re running me.”
Jia stood and looked down at him, a snarl of contempt marring her beautiful features. “Do not ever forget this,” she said.
“We’ll be in touch,” Caine added. “And Ted, if you’re thinking of running again? You should know I tracked Allan Bernatto across three countries. I can find you across a few state lines in my sleep.”
Ted nodded, panting for breath. He heard the door open. The light switched off, and the door closed. They were gone.
He was left gasping in the darkness.
The tiny runway at Frederick Municipal Airport was dark, save for a few lights spaced along the thirty-six-hundred-foot strip of concrete. The airfield cut through a rural, tree-lined field about an hour away from Baltimore. Frederick County was a sleepy, quiet town. There was no sign of activity in the collection of hangers and buildings that surrounded the runway.
A cool, light mist filled the night air. Caine peered through the windshield of his rental sedan, scanning the trees and buildings for any sign of movement.
“We’re clear," he said.
He opened the door and got out, clutching Ted’s small pistol in his hand. Jia opened the rear passenger door and lifted Lian from the seat. The child was sleepy, still groggy from the sedative Jia had slipped her at Camp Peary.
She mumbled in a quiet, chirping voice, rubbing at her eyes. “Women xianzai yao hui jia?”
Jia looked over at Caine as she carried the child across the runway. Caine moved next to her, his eyes alert and his gun at the ready.
“She asked if we are going home,” Jia said.
“Are you?” Caine asked.
Jia shook her head. “There is nothing left for me there. I could not go back if I wanted to. You heard Yong. The Ministry will never forget my betrayal. And the memories … I can’t forget what I did either.”
“I know what you mean," Caine replied. "Look, she’s a tough kid. Wherever you go, she’ll be fine. You’ll make a new home.”
Jia kissed the child on the cheek. “Ni shi wo de jia,” she whispered to the sleepy girl. “You are my home.”
They hurried towards a small private jet parked at the end of the strip. As they approached, the aircraft’s tail lights lit up and a low hum emitted from its engines. The side door slid open. A Japanese man stepped out and waved to them. He was wearing a headset and a black windbreaker.
“Konban wa,” he said in a gruff voice. “You are Caine-san?”
“Hai,” Caine answered. “Is everything ready?”
The man nodded. “Koichi Ogawa sends his regards. I am Hondo, your pilot. I understand certain, uh … arrangements have been made. We should leave soon. Before questions come.”
Jia eyed the pilot with a wary gaze and set Lian on the ground. “This man who sent the plane, you are sure he is reliable?” she asked Caine.
Caine laughed. “That depends on your definition of reliable. Koichi is a yakuza gangster.” He placed a reassuring hand on her back. “But I’ve worked with him before. Lot of history there. I contacted him while we were in Okinawa. If Koichi sent this
guy, you can trust him.”
Hondo smiled at Lian, and the skin around his eyes wrinkled like tanned leather. “I can get the little one seated, if you like.”
The girl looked up at her mother with wide, pensive eyes. Jia knelt down next to her. “Go on Lian, meiguanxi. I’ll be right there.”
The child stepped forward and took the pilot’s hand. He led her up the stairs to the jet’s small cabin.
Jia stood and faced Caine. “You understand what I mean, don’t you? About the memories? The betrayal … So much death.”
“I do,” he said.
“How do you move past it? How do you make the nightmares go away?”
He was silent for a moment.
“You don’t,” he finally said. “Sometimes they go away for a while, but sooner or later they always come back. Some of the memories might fade with time. Others never do. Maybe they’re not supposed to.”
She brushed a strand of long, dark hair from her face. She looked into his eyes, as if searching for some small sliver of hope in his gaze.
“You should come with us,” she said.
“I can’t, Jia. There are things I have to finish here. And trust me, you’ll be safer without me. You have Lian to worry about now.”
“I have you to thank for that. But maybe you’re right … maybe you can find your peace here. Sean … he is all right?”
“Rebecca said the exchange happens tomorrow. There’s some political bullshit involved, but at least he’s safe now.”
She smiled. “I’m glad. He’s going to need someone in his life, you know. Someone he can look to for guidance.”
“I’m not exactly a role model.”
“You don’t have be. You just have to be there for him when he needs you.”
“Parenting advice?”
She wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. His heart beat faster as he felt the warmth of her body pressing against him. “Human nature,” she whispered. “I’ve spent years undercover. I’m a good listener.”
Thomas Caine series Boxset Page 66
