The sound of McDunna’s voice brought him back from his thoughts.
“Yeah, so without the leak, it probably seemed like an innocent mistake. But now…”
“Then what are they waiting for? We need to do an extraction.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Come on. We can have a spin-up team together in fifteen minutes.” Rad leaped out of his chair and headed for the door.
“Slow down.” McDunna’s voice was severe. “Not in this political climate. Pakistan already has its hackles up over the kill and the way it was carried out.”
“Fuck the politics!” Rad turned around, incredulous that McDunna could just sit there. “We’re talking about an American life!”
McDunna winced when Rad swore, probably because he knew he didn’t do it very often. He slid a file across the table. “Okay, fuck the politics. But she was under non-official cover. The United States has already officially denied any knowledge of her.”
“But they sent her in there.” Rad’s heart jolted at the realization this administration would have no problem writing off a faceless operative who had given them the greatest victory of their lifetime.
“They sent her in there and told her there would be no help coming. She understood the consequences.”
“But she—”
“She knew. Read the first page.”
Rad opened the file, and his eyes flicked over the handwritten note clipped inside the front cover:
At the verbal request of Lauren Cantrell, no lives are to be put in danger with a rescue or extraction if kidnapped, captured, or otherwise endangered in Pakistan.
Rad’s eyes blurred as he studied the date the missive was signed. He stood, threw his chair across the room, and then banged the table with his fist. “Damn her!”
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do.”
Rad nodded his head, thinking back to that day on the beach. He looked back over his shoulder at McDunna. “I was with her the day she had that put in her file. She took a phone call, made a decision like that—and then told me it was her fucking travel agent.”
His commander took a deep breath. “Well, you of all people know what it’s like to risk your life for your country. You do it every day.”
Rad ran his hand through his hair and growled. “It’s not the same. If I die, it will be with a bullet hole or two in me.” He put his hands on the table and leaned toward McDunna. “They’re going to kill her by inches, slow and deliberate.”
McDunna closed his eyes and nodded but didn’t bother to reply.
Rad’s thoughts went back to the briefing and his snarky remark about having to do an extraction. No wonder she’d been so offended. She had gone out of her way to make sure no other lives would be put into danger. She’d been keenly aware of the difficult international situation the operation would entail and had not wanted any action taken that would jeopardize American lives or its standing.
Images of Lauren as he had last seen her arose unbidden before him. Her dark eyes had been full of fortitude, shining with steadfast and deliberate resolve when she’d climbed into the chopper. Had she known what was coming? Suspected it?
God has a plan for me, she’d told him at the landing zone in Afghanistan when they were waiting for the chopper. It can’t be changed. Only completed.
The recollection of those chilling words practically made him shiver. She possessed an inexhaustible spirit of dauntless determination and surprising strength of will. The combination, he feared, could be a dangerous one.
Rad closed his eyes and winced when he thought of her reaction to the torture room at the Ripley museum and where she might be now. Courage and resilience were a part of her very being, but would they be enough to sustain her?
To face this danger and her greatest fears alone and without help was far more impressive than heroism on the battlefield where soldiers could depend on each other and their weaponry. She sacrificed all for her convictions and her country, her only consideration being the importance and magnitude of the mission.
“Fortitude and strength are powerful weapons.” McDunna interrupted his thoughts with a tone that conveyed awe and respect. “Don’t give up hope.”
Rad headed to the door for some fresh air to clear his head. Give up? He would not rest until she was safely back in his arms. Reaching for the knob, he turned to McDunna with a look of fierce determination in his eyes.
“I promised her I’d see her again,” is all he said before slamming shut the door.
Chapter 25
Half a world away, Angela Powers sat on the back veranda staring absently at the gardens and the pool in between sips of two hundred dollar-a-bottle wine. She thought she heard the sound of a car pull in but didn’t bother getting up. The housekeeper was in today. If the bell rang, she would get it.
But the doorbell never rang. Instead, the front door slammed shut with enough force to cause the wine in her glass to tremble. She was about to get up and investigate when she heard the familiar sound of her husband’s expensive shoes echoing through the hall and into the kitchen.
“What are you doing home so early, honey?” she asked innocently when he appeared in the doorway. “Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.”
“I guess you’re proud of yourself.”
Angela jerked her head back toward him when she heard his tone.
“Overall, yes.” She could tell something was terribly wrong but didn’t want to let on. Anyway, she wasn’t really worried. She knew how to handle this man. “If you’re talking about something in particular though, you’ll have to share.”
Senator Powers walked over to the outdoor bar and poured some scotch into a glass. “I guess you’re proud you’ve single-handedly gotten a U.S. spy captured by terrorists.” He downed the entire glass in one gulp.
Angela blinked innocently. “What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about, Angie.” Powers poured himself another drink. “You ran with that story, knowing full well you were outing a spy, and now she’s gone missing.”
Angela set her glass down and exhaled with exasperation. “I simply did that story to give the girl the credit she was due. If she’s gone missing, it’s because of the career she chose—not anything I did. She knew the danger.”
“She knew the danger of operating in a foreign country. She surely didn’t know the danger of an insanely jealous woman who happens to be in the journalism field.”
Angela pushed out her chair and stood. “How dare you make such an accusation!”
Senator Powers spoke calmly now. “It’s not an accusation. It’s the truth.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gerry. I wouldn’t have been able to get that story without the help of the White House.” Angela lowered her voice. “You know that.”
“Just because the White House leaks bits and pieces of a story to you doesn’t mean you have to run with it and make up the other half.”
Powers became so angry his voice quaked, making Angela feel a twinge of apprehension for the first time.
“Honey, I didn’t make it up.” She tried to calm him down. “I did the groundwork in Afghanistan and put two and two together.”
When he didn’t respond she walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. “Why can’t you be proud of me for breaking the biggest story of the year?”
Powers growled in response and stamped back into the house. Angela gulped a few swallows of wine as she listened to him rummaging through his briefcase. When he returned, he dropped a file on the table without saying a word.
Her gaze dropped down to the folder, and then snapped back to meet his. “You can’t be serious.”
“If you would have had the decency to show some remorse, I might have reconsidered.”
“Remorse?” Her voice rose in anger as she lowered her glass onto the table. “For doing my job?”
Powers shook his head and sighed. “You technically have thirty days
to sign.” He reached down and turned the page. “And you will see I’ve been very generous. But for every twenty-four hours you delay, the offer goes down substantially.”
Angela took a step backward. “Do you think I’m a tramp who’s going to walk quietly out of your life with a little payoff?”
Powers said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.
Grabbing her wine glass, Angela hurled it at him. “Did you ever think of the scandal this will cause? What this will do to your career?”
“The scandal of divorcing you can’t be half as bad as the one I created by being married to you.” The senator picked up his coat, turned, and walked away.
“Where do you think you are going?” She ran after him.
“A hotel.” He stopped. “Surely you don’t think I’m going to stay here until this is legally over.”
“You’ll be sorry for this,” she yelled after him. “I’ll make you regret the way you’ve treated me.”
“Take anything you want, Angie.” He waved his hands in the air toward the paintings, the china, the furniture. “Just sign the papers and get out.”
Angie heard the front door bang closed with thundering finality and contemplated her options. She wasn’t that upset her marriage was breaking up. She’d never been in love with the man whose name she took. But the impact it would have on her career gave her pause. Being the senator’s wife had opened doors, and now they were all closing with a bang.
But what could she do about it? He had the money and the power to fight her and could close all avenues to future employment if she pushed him. He knew it. And he knew she knew it. The quieter they both kept this, the better off both of them would be.
Angela’s mind drifted back to Rad. She would be a free woman. And he was an unattached man. Very unattached if what her husband just told her was true.
She smiled to herself, walked over to the bar, and poured herself another drink.
Chapter 26
Lauren thought she heard Rad’s voice, and then watched him come into view, calm and unruffled, as if daring anyone to halt or delay him. Dressed in camo and armed to the teeth, he was all manhood and muscle, the very picture of a soldier. When his eyes met hers it was with an intensity that made her blush and a fearlessness that left her enthralled.
He held out his hand. “I told you I’d come.” His voice was smooth and measured and deep—the voice of authority. She took his hand and suddenly he was no longer a soldier and they were no longer in Pakistan. They were walking along a lonely stretch of beach with water tugging at their ankles, talking and laughing and embracing life.
Running her tongue across her dry, cracked lips, Lauren swallowed the iron-tasting glob in her throat and awoke from the dream that had seemed so vivid and real. Breathing was difficult—and painful—so she tried to focus her thoughts on a part of her body that didn’t hurt. But if there was an inch of bone or muscle that didn’t involve a pulsing nerve screaming with pain, she couldn’t find it today.
Despite the hurt, she lifted her hand to touch her eye, wanting to see if it was open or closed. The cell she lay in was dark and her face numb, making it impossible to tell. When her hand was almost there, it was forced to a jolting halt by a chain attached to her wrist and the floor. The pain that flashed through her when she got to the end of its length was excruciating, causing her to groan out loud.
She lowered her hand to her cheek, which felt swollen and pulpy beneath her touch. It struck her as funny that she wished no one would see her like this—hair dirty and stringy and caked in blood. She accepted that her death would be messy, but had hoped it wouldn’t be public. The fact that her interrogations had been in English with a video camera running had pretty much dashed that hope.
Lauren sat up with great effort and leaned her back against the wall. The floor of the place where she sat must have been concrete once, but now only a few broken patches remained. For the most part, she felt only dirt and grime beneath her hands. The stench that emanated from the filth suggested this was not the first time it had been used as a prison cell.
But the nauseating aroma did not stop Lauren from attempting to take deep, slow breaths. Mind over matter she kept telling herself. The fact her cell was practically devoid of light provided some relief—no walls could be distinguished. For all she knew, the room was huge… perhaps even opulent and luxurious. She envisioned it as she wished it to be until at last the claustrophobic panic subsided.
Lauren tried to count the number of days she had been here. Two? Three? More? Time was lost to her now. But what did it matter? She had won. The man who had been responsible for planning the deaths of countless Americans had been eliminated. Her goal had been accomplished. Knowing no American lives had been lost in the effort and future lives would be saved, made her feel fortunate, not sorry, for her current circumstances. When she added up the lives avenged, the future lives that would never be lost, and the terror network reeling from the removal of their leader, she felt the tradeoff a fair one.
Added to that positive outcome was the intelligence likely gained by Rad and his men when they seized computers and communications from the house of a most-wanted terrorist.
At the thought of Rad, a tear unexpectedly squeezed through her eyelid to slide down Lauren’s cheek. She remembered the briefing for the mission when her eyes had first fallen upon Pops. Why is he here? she remembered thinking. As realization set in, her eyes had sought Rad’s and found them waiting. They were not carefree and relaxed as she had remembered them at the beach, but strong—so strong. Even from across the room she felt the intensity, the concern, the solemnity of his gaze.
Lauren laid her head against the wall and closed her eyes as the recollections rocked her. Despite her circumstances, she recalled the sensation of being held against his strong body; of his kiss, so slow and thoughtful—and surprisingly gentle. It was his ruggedness and vibrant power that had first attracted her to him, but his tenderness and calm authority had kept her entranced.
Drawing a deep breath, Lauren felt an agonizing twinge in her lungs. It wouldn’t be long now. It couldn’t be long—for the simple reason she couldn’t take much more. With her vitality failing, a new pain ripped through her with an intensity that closed out all else.
Not willing to succumb to the pain, Lauren concentrated instead on the memory of Rad’s shirt on her shoulders, the smell of it, and clung to that thought as she would a life preserver in a stormy sea. It would be a sweet consolation if she could have something of his to hold and feel—to die with—but she knew memories would have to sustain her now. Anyway, she could feel him with her. Feel him to the very marrow of her bones.
A sudden peace washed over Lauren, filling her heart with gratitude that God had shown her the path of duty and given her the strength to follow it. All the vitality and courage she would need for what was yet to come flowed from that Source. She’d asked to serve and she’d served. She felt the pride of it—and the weight of it.
Lauren drifted off while listening to the wind whine through the crevices of the walls. But as her thoughts returned to that distant beach, she recalled eyes full of expression and a gaze that felt like a caress. The roar of pain in her ears became the gentle roll of waves, her unconscious moans of agony, the gentle call of sea gulls.
Yet when she heard the voices of her captors approaching from outside, her body involuntarily shook despite her mental composure. She did not fear what was to come, but she wished it were over. No matter what happened in the hours or the days ahead, she held onto her one consolation.
One life in exchange for the hundreds saved.
I won.
“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
— Confucius
Chapter 27
Rad heard his phone ring and blinked until he could make out the time—0200.
He closed his eyes before reaching for it. This can’t be good.
“Radcliff here.”
&n
bsp; “It’s McDunna, Rad. Get dressed and get down to HQ. We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes.
Rad looked again at the time and tried to clear the sleep from his brain. “With who?”
“All kinds of high-ups… CIA mostly.”
Rad sat straight up in bed. “They got something?”
“Apparently.” McDunna was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad, Rad. You need to be prepared for the worst.”
Again there was silence.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Rad was already sliding into a pair of pants before he even hung up the phone and was in his truck and on the highway shortly after that. The crystal clear vibrancy of the sky drew his gaze heavenward, and he couldn’t help but notice all the stars shimmering against the velvety blackness.
Please don’t be up there, Lauren, he thought to himself as he remembered her words about angel eyes. You can’t be up there.
No one introduced Rad when he entered the conference room or even seemed to notice he was there. There were ten men, most of them whispering in groups until one of them cleared his throat and told everyone to take a seat.
“Gentlemen, as you know, we are in a precarious situation here with an asset in a sovereign country and a fucked up mess for a press.”
No one said anything or even cracked a smile.
“The pressure on Pakistan seems to be working. Of course, publicly they refuse to cooperate, which they have to do to appease the fanatics. But secretly they know they stand to lose a whole lot of money from the United States if they don’t cooperate.”
He stopped and took a drink of water from a bottle before continuing. “The Pakistani police raided a house along the border last evening and found the video I’m going to play for you. The CIA has a copy in Langley and is going over every image to see if they recognize anything. I ask that you do the same.”
Meant to Be Page 19
