Now all that would have been for nothing. Everyone would think she and Jakeman had been embroiled in some kind of love affair.
Her only hope was that Mark and her team, the people whose opinions she actually valued, would know it wasn’t true. They would never believe it.
Unfortunately, given the fallout of a nuclear bomb, they would also be dead. Which kind of negated their faith in her. Especially considering their deaths were on her.
Langdon might be the one pushing the button, but it was her responsibility to stop it.
Victoria wasn’t going to submit and allow him to have that kind of control over her life. Just as she’d hesitated giving that kind of control to “the Lord,” as her team referred to him. In a situation where she had no power, because Langdon had it all? Absolutely she would give that to God. She’d rather He was in authority than a homicidal ex. When there was no Langdon, and Victoria was the one who had say over her own destiny? That was another question.
But right now...she had to worry about right now. Not wait for a peaceful day, where she had time to mull over all the repercussions of what amounted to a Hail Mary play.
God. Okay, so this was weird. I have no other ideas. They all say you’re all powerful and all that other stuff…so help. Don’t let a nuke blow up Washington state. Help me stop it.
She didn’t feel any different. But the amount of times Victoria’s team had told her about their new or renewed faith could probably fill a book—a rewrite of all those basic things, the “foundations” as Haley had called them.
Still, she had no idea if that even worked. Maybe she needed a backup plan.
Victoria looked over Jakeman, assessing him for injuries while also refusing to meet his gaze. After what Langdon had told them his plan was, she didn’t want to make things any weirder between them.
“Can you get up?”
“Do you think he’s going to come back?”
She shrugged. “I know you’re the one who’s mobile, and I’m tied to this chair.” She didn’t want to have to break her thumbs, especially considering she wasn’t certain that would actually enable her to pull her hands from the ropes that bound them. Not given how tight they were around her wrists.
He rolled over on the floor, groaning. “I’m far too old for this.”
“What are you now, eighty-something?”
“I’m fifty-seven, and you know that. You were at my birthday party.” He hesitated before saying anything else and narrowed his eyes. “That was a good distraction.” He straightened where he was sitting.
“You’re welcome.”
“Mary Anne has been making me do yoga, you know?”
Victoria shook her head.
“If we were lovers, you’d know that.”
He was making jokes? “This isn’t funny.”
“No, but this might be.” He contorted his legs, locked together, and pulled his feet through his hands until his hands were in front of his body rather than being locked behind his back.
“Smooth.”
“Things you’d know.”
“Jake—”
“Yeah, yeah.” He stood up. “I’ve never stood a chance...not since Mark entered the picture.”
“Does your wife know you feel that way?” Was he really trying to distract her with this ridiculousness?
He laughed, straightening one leg with the other bent and his foot off the ground. “You know she loves you.”
“This conversation is getting really weird. Anyway, Mark entered the picture in third grade, so…”
He touched his bound hands to his chest. “So I really never did stand a chance? You break my heart.”
Jakeman had to hop to her, sweat rolling down his face. He never once made even a sound of pain even though his knee had to be shattered. He leaned against her chair and looked at her back. “Plastic ties.” He straightened. “You know, I had this knee replaced a couple of years ago. It’s metal, so I know it’s not broken.”
“That doesn’t make it better.” Besides, they needed to get out of here. Not take their sweet time having a conversation. “You’ll have to—”
The door swung open.
Jakeman rushed Langdon with an awkward gait. Langdon swung his arm and punched him in the stomach.
Jakeman gasped and fell to the floor.
Langdon stepped back into the hall for a second, then came out with a tripod and video camera. “Time for your last words.”
Chapter 34
Seattle, WA. Sunday 12.04p.m.
Mark pushed open the door to his office and pulled up short. “I didn’t expect to see you here, sir.”
“It’s a Sunday, Welvern. And you can call me director.”
He blinked. Was he supposed to laugh? “Are you working the Langdon case?”
The older man leaned back in Mark’s chair, the thick mustache like a caterpillar crawling over his top lip. “I have another matter. The real reason I’m on this side of the country.”
This was a long way from Washington D.C. and honestly sometimes felt like a completely different world. Policing wasn’t much different here, but it still seemed as though each state—each city and town—had its own individual culture.
“A case?”
“An event we need to safeguard. I’m afraid the clearance level doesn’t extend down to you.”
It had to be seriously high level then, considering Mark was the assistant director over the whole office. But that wasn’t what he wanted or needed to talk about. The reason why he’d come here.
“I got a report that the residence where the secretary of defense was spending the weekend has been hit, that there may not be any survivors.”
The director’s mustache crawled again. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Langdon has to be involved. He must’ve attacked or kidnapped him as he’s done with Victoria Bramlyn. Or he just killed the man.” Killed them both.
“You think he’s targeted them like that?”
Mark said, “Victoria was taken before she could even reach the hospital.”
“I’m sure she just left and is back on the case already. She is a spy.”
“She’d have told me. Then there’s the surveillance footage we have of her tied up in the ambulance, also an indicator she didn’t just leave.”
Mark immediately bit back regret for saying that out loud. He wanted to reach out and squeeze the guy’s neck. Why, he wasn’t all that sure, considering the director was on his side. The side of right, and the law. It was just that every ounce of frustration he had pent up inside him wanted to be channeled at the person sitting across from him in his chair. The person making his job that much harder than it needed to be.
He’d already had Talia look into the director’s personal life. She hadn’t come up with anything incriminating. He wasn’t linked to Langdon, despite the fact he’d been Colin Pinton’s boss for years. Mark figured it was unlikely they’d even met, considering how huge the FBI was.
Without evidence, there was no reason to suspect the director of anything that would betray the office he held.
Mark said, “The job you’re here to oversee...could it be what Langdon intends to hit with that nuke?”
The director huffed out a breath. “That seems to be more than assumption at this point. We only have circumstantial evidence that Langdon may have a weapon of mass destruction, and definitely nothing that tells us when or where he plans to use it.”
“Victoria knew.” Mark slid his hands into his pockets. “Now she’s gone.”
She’d been about to tell him. So close to knowing where Langdon planned to enact his destructive plan, and now he was so far from knowing, he might as well be in a different solar system.
“Seems convenient.” Caterpillar mustache.
That thing just loved to crawl along as he worked his mouth. The director’s version of a disapproving frown. “Whether that’s true or not, Langdon is still the priority.”
“Mmm.” The director lifted both
brows this time. “Yes.”
“And the thing you’re here to oversee? Could that be a target?”
He shook his head, not even pausing to think it over. “I’m sure it’s not. The whole thing has been kept under serious wraps.”
“And yet you don’t agree that finding Victoria should be our priority?” It could just be Mark’s priority—and it very much was—but his boss had apparently dismissed that idea. As though she’d simply ditched them and gone back to her job. Even considering that Mark hadn’t officially worked with her much, he could still say with confidence that she hadn’t.
Mark continued, “She’s the only one who has all the information we need. Her personal connection with Langdon makes her the perfect person to assist in finding a man we should have caught days ago. We’re the laughing stock of federal agencies right now, with all this corruption right under our noses and we knew nothing. We did nothing.”
The director stood, shoving the chair back as he did so. “Tread very carefully right now, Assistant Director Welvern. Ensure you do not step into insubordination territory with that tone, and your attitude.”
“Sir—”
The director lifted one hand, palm out. “Very carefully.”
Mark pressed his lips together.
“Your association with Director Bramlyn has colored your career in a way you clearly weren’t prepared for and still don’t seem to fully comprehend. I understand you were childhood friends. Such longevity can often cloud our ability to see the truth when it’s so plainly in front of us.”
Mark wasn’t ever going to believe that somehow Victoria was dirty, or that she was secretly working with Langdon. No way. Never.
All it served to do was make Mark more and more suspicious of his boss and his loyalties. And though Talia found nothing, he still wasn’t sure enough to suspend all his doubts and give this man full trust.
The way he did with Victoria.
That was a knowing kind of trust. She wasn’t infallible, but he knew her well enough to know what he needed to worry about and what he didn’t. Those known unknowns that kept him up at night—not the things he didn’t know were coming, but the things he was sure would. With Victoria, it was all known. She would be there. And she would work for the right outcome, whether that cost her her life or her friends.
Of course.
She hadn’t gone off on her own. Langdon had her tied up—not that he considered that something insurmountable for her. But there was no way Victoria would reach out to one of them. Not if it would put their lives in danger. Especially not if she thought she could take care of Langdon and the nuke herself. Did she have that kind of explosives detonation training? He had no idea. But unless they could help in a way she needed them to in order to put an end to this threat…
There was no way she would call, even if she could.
Mark’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He lifted his wrist and looked at the face of his smartwatch. It scrolled with a new text message.
Done.
Mark said, “The threat is clear. I strongly suggest you ensure the security for the case that has you here, or whatever it is that you’re overseeing.”
The director said nothing. Mark strode out, straight to the elevator, and headed to his car. When he’d pulled out onto the street, he used the screen on his dash to call Mason.
The secret service assistant director picked up before the second ring. “She’s working on it.”
“Dumping his phone?” Mark felt a quick pang of conscience at the fact they were essentially hacking the director’s life. But the man had insisted on keeping his secrets. He could have read Mark in on the reason he was coordinating something here. Whatever it was could very well be the event Langdon intended to use his bomb, for maximum effect.
The fallout was almost too huge to comprehend. Initial explosion, plus the ramifications that would continue for months. Years. A whole generation. This would be so much bigger than 9/11, something no one wanted to see repeated anywhere on American soil. And this time, it wasn’t a foreign threat to the US way of life. It was a homegrown enemy determined to hit them with firepower for no reason but spite, just for insisting that they bring him in. Whatever it took.
Mark gripped the wheel with one hand and the back of his neck with the other as he weaved through afternoon traffic.
“If there’s something there to find, she’ll get it.”
He turned a corner, headed for the secret service office. “Anything on the GPS for the ambulance?”
Mason was quiet for a second. “Talia wants to know if you’d rather she looked into what the director is doing, or if you want her to spend time trying to reboot the GPS on the ambulance.”
He worked his mouth side to side. It was likely Langdon had dumped the ambulance somewhere, considering it was way too noticeable. Not a low-key getaway vehicle. So he’d gotten rid of it, and was holed up somewhere.
Mark didn’t want to think about what was happening with Victoria.
He wanted to rage. Scream. Slam his hand against the steering wheel. Push the gas pedal to the floor. But what would all that solve? Victoria was the one who’d taught him by her own example that allowing emotion to overtake him wouldn’t benefit the situation. He’d get distracted in his own head and someone could get hurt. What he needed was focus.
She was the one who knew Langdon. She had the skills to bring him down and the knowledge of what his plan entailed. Mark had to trust her and provide whatever support he could.
The way they’d leaned on each other for years.
Since the night his father died and Mark had been forced to pack away that rage over what the old man had been intending to do with Victoria. Did he feel the weight of guilt over being responsible for his death? Sure. He’d gone to counseling on and off over the years, some of it at the request of the FBI. Did it matter that the old man had been emotionally and physically abusive? No, that didn’t give Mark the power to judge him and sentence him to death.
It had been a horrible accident under terrible circumstances.
But it still stained his soul. A soul that had been washed by the blood of Jesus. Bought by redemption. Redeemed.
The worst of who he was had been made new in Christ.
And now he prayed Victoria would know the same peace he felt, even in the midst of what was happening to her.
“Okay, she got something.”
Mark waited.
“The director is in town because he’s overseeing security for the Western Governors’ Association. They’re having a last minute, private meeting tomorrow night at an undisclosed location that Talia’s working on finding.”
“About what?” Langdon, maybe. The truth was, Mark didn’t think they’d know what the reason was. Not until they got there.
He could try calling the governor of Washington, but the guy always had his lieutenant field the calls he didn’t want to bother with.
“Your guess is as good as ours.”
Mark tapped the steering wheel with his index finger. “Can you get us in?”
“This is an FBI operation from the look of it,” Mason said. “My office didn’t even know it was happening—and won’t—considering this was a completely illegal breach of another federal agent’s official phone.”
He heard Talia say something in the background but couldn’t make it out. He could guess, though. Probably the same wording Victoria would use if she ever cared to explain herself. Which didn’t happen often. Something about the ends justifying the means.
“You need to get us into that meeting.” Mark didn’t have the clout. Not with the director overseeing all this and keeping it to himself.
“You think this is where Langdon will go?”
“Do we have any better ideas?” Mark headed for his house so he could shower and make a plan. It had nothing to do with seeing Bear, or that being the first place Victoria always went when she needed him. “Get me into that meeting, Mason.”
“I’m going to regret
this.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 35
Seattle, WA. Sunday 1.52p.m.
“And that’s why I’m doing this.”
Off camera, Langdon stood with his gun pointed at Jakeman. He stepped to the tripod and touched a button. The red light blinked out. “I guess that will have to do. There isn’t time enough to make another one.”
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut. He’d adjusted her sleeves so it didn’t look like she was tied to the chair. He’d also brushed out her hair. As though that would make her look put together when her makeup was probably smeared across her face by now.
She looked down at the skin of her arms. Tiny fingers danced across every inch of that organ, over her whole body. She was about to scream. To claw herself free of whatever he’d injected into her that was now crawling under her skin.
She felt crazy.
She probably looked crazy.
“Mark will never believe it.”
Langdon moved the camera out into the hall. “If I do this right, he won’t be alive to see it.”
Victoria screamed out her frustration.
Langdon just laughed. “You know that’s how I like it, darling.”
She hadn’t, and probably could have died in peace never ever knowing the darker side of this man. But he’d insisted on dragging it all out into the light, destroying her whole life—ending it, even—only to then make a break for a new life where he did…what? Sat on a beach somewhere? Or terrorized unsuspecting people who then had to live under the thumb of some third world warlord?
This man was going to continue this destruction until he was put in the ground. And the price would be high.
A tear rolled down her face.
The price would be so high.
“I’ll have to edit the video. That’s going to take time.” It was like he was talking to himself. “But it’ll get me maximum dramatic effect and help sell the whole story. The bomb will obliterate everything, so they’ll never find your DNA. You’ll be a myth, a legend. The body was never discovered.” He used a sensational tone.
Final Stand Page 22
