No Man's Land

by David Baldacci

  Him staring down at her, his hands around her throat. Hands that she knew better than anyone could crush the life out of her in a second.

  He wanted to see her looking back at him. He wanted her to know that things had come full circle. That he had come back and done what needed doing.

  Ridding the world of her.

  Chapter

  51

  JERICHO COULD NOT meet with them until that evening, so it was after nine and well dark when they arrived at Fort Monroe.

  Puller and Knox were escorted into Building Q by one of the armed guards who had been posted outside. The building was clearly closed for the night, the workers having apparently all gone home; the parking lot was empty of cars.

  They passed down a long corridor and were led into a small conference room and left alone. They heard the guard’s heels tapping on the floor as he went back to his post.

  They sat side by side at a small round conference table. Knox glanced at Puller and then her gaze drifted to a small camera lens sunken into a corner of the ceiling.

  Puller had already noted this. He nodded at her.

  They waited in silence until the door opened again.

  Framed in the doorway was a petite woman in her late fifties with short graying hair, dark glasses, and dressed in a navy blue skirt and matching jacket and a white high-collared blouse. On her feet were low-heeled black shoes. She looked to Puller like a veteran banker or lawyer.

  She nodded to them both before sitting down across from the pair.

  “My name is Claire Jericho. I was the one who called you, Agent Puller.”

  Puller nodded and then indicated Knox. “This is—”

  “I know who she is. Very nice to meet you, Agent Knox. Your reputation precedes you, as does your colleague’s.”

  Knox and Puller exchanged glances before settling their gazes on Jericho.

  She looked back at them impassively, cleared her throat, and said, “May I offer some refreshments? Tea, coffee, bottled water? I believe we also have sodas.”

  They both declined.

  She leaned forward and rested one hand on top of the other.

  “I know that both of you are exceptionally busy, so I won’t waste your time. The fact is your interaction with one of my employees, Anne Shepard, has been reported to me. I have interviewed Ms. Shepard personally. The result was she was terminated this morning.”

  “Why?” asked Puller.

  “For the same reasons you told her last night, Agent Puller. She was frequenting an establishment and behaving in a way that breaches the terms of the contract she had with us. There was no remedy other than immediate termination.”

  “Is that why you called? To tell me that? You could have done that over the phone.”

  “I like to convey important information face-to-face.”

  “Josh Quentin works here, doesn’t he?” asked Puller.

  “He does.”

  “Well, he was at the bar too. Apparently he goes all the time. He has his own room upstairs. He goes there with a bunch of women. There’s a bedroom up there. Does that violate his contract?”

  “I wouldn’t know, not having seen his contract. He’s the CEO of Atalanta. So he outranks me.”

  “And yet you’re certainly older than he is,” noted Knox.

  The inscrutable face turned to her.

  Jericho said, “Titles are not based on age. They’re based on many factors. Mr. Quentin has an impeccable reputation in the field. He has risen quickly no doubt, but solely on his merits.”

  “And what do you do here?” asked Puller.

  “We do contract work with DARPA. Our mission is solely military support. It’s no secret.”

  “It’s actually very secret,” said Puller. “I couldn’t find anything on Atalanta Group at all. You don’t even have a website.”

  “We have no need for any of that. We have our work and we have our client and we do our job.”

  “After you called I checked on you. I couldn’t find anything on you either. And I know where to look.”

  Jericho stared impassively back at him. “I just wanted to let you know that the matter with Ms. Shepard has been dealt with.”

  “She was lucky,” said Puller. “Right after she left a bunch of guys shot up the bar.”

  “Really? Was anyone hurt?”

  “You hadn’t heard about it?” asked Knox. “It didn’t happen that far from here.”

  “I was focused on other things.”

  “Well, as a matter of fact, quite a few people were killed and injured.”

  “That is tragic,” Jericho said, her features still impassive.

  “Were you aware that four women were murdered in this area thirty years ago?” asked Puller.

  “I don’t really understand the segue, Agent Puller. I thought we were talking about the present.”

  “The murders were never solved.”

  “That is unfortunate, but I don’t see the relevancy to what we were discussing.”

  “We’re looking at a possible connection between the Army and the murders,” said Knox, the remark drawing a quick glance from Puller.

  “And why would you be doing that?” asked Jericho.

  “Because we think the killer might be connected to the military in some way. Perhaps to this installation.”

  “This is no longer a military installation.”

  “But back then it was. And this building was operational back then, wasn’t it?”

  “This connection, do you have any idea what it might be?”

  Knox looked at her, bemused. “It’s an ongoing investigation. I’m not at liberty to speak about details.”

  Jericho let out a small sigh. “I rather hoped this would not be necessary, but I see that it is.” She focused on Puller. “There is no investigation. Neither of you have been authorized to perform any such investigation having to do with any murders that may or may not be connected to this installation.”

  “And how could you possibly know that?” asked Knox.

  Jericho continued to stare at Puller. “I would have hoped, Agent Puller, that you would have had more respect for the institution for which you wear the uniform than to try to smear its reputation in a misguided attempt to clear your father of murdering your mother.”

  Puller said nothing, while Knox glanced back and forth between the two.

  Jericho continued, “It gives me no pleasure to have to say these things to you. I am aware of your father’s current condition. I know of the allegations made by Lynda Demirjian. I know that your father arrived back in this country a day before he told authorities he did. I make no judgment on his guilt or innocence. I would hope that he is innocent, though, because his heroism while in uniform is indisputable. And one Puller being in prison was one more than necessary, wasn’t it?”

  “My brother was cleared of all charges,” said Puller tightly. “He was wrongfully convicted.”

  “And his exoneration was due largely, I am told, to your extraordinary investigative skills and tenacity. And therefore I wonder why you’re not exerting those same skills on behalf of your country during the course of authorized casework.”

  “My father—”

  She cut him off. “You were told that matter has been dealt with and the inquiry concluded. Mrs. Demirjian is deceased. Your father’s reputation will not suffer in the least.” She looked at him inquiringly. “I knew your father. Did you know that?”

  Puller felt like she had slapped him in the face. This odious woman had known his father?

  “No, I didn’t know,” he said tersely.

  “Although we didn’t exactly see eye to eye on things, he was an outstanding soldier. I understand you are too. Which brings me to the point: Why are you doing what you’re doing?” She glanced at Knox. “And why is this very valuable agent of our country wasting her time helping you do it?”

  Puller said, “My mother was never found. I want to know what happened to her.”

  “So why then
has it taken you all this time to delve into the case? Surely you’ve had many opportunities to do so.”

  “The letter from Lynda—”

  Again she cut him off. “So your desire to seek the truth had to have a catalyst, then? An allegation against your father triggered your sudden desire to know what happened to your mother? Then I take it you cared for your father more than you did your mother if her fate meant nothing to you for three decades until an allegation by a dying woman threatened the reputation of Fighting John Puller.” She paused. “Were I to have a son, I would expect better treatment.”

  Puller’s hand actually moved an inch toward his M11.

  Knox stood and barked, “You are way out of line, lady.”

  Jericho stared blankly up at her before settling her gaze back on Puller. “Do you think I’m way out of line, Agent Puller? Or do you think I am the only person to actually speak the truth to you about this matter? I don’t often tell people what they want to hear. I tell people what they need to hear. You said you wanted the truth? Well, here it is. You need to give up this foolishness, get your head back on straight, and move forward with your life and career of service. If you don’t, things will not turn out so very well for you.”

  “Is this where I’m supposed to ask if you’re threatening us?”

  “No. A threat implies that something may rather than will happen. I don’t wish there to be anything but clarity between you and me.”

  Puller said nothing to this, but by his look her words had resonated deeply within him.

  Knox just stood there staring at her.

  Jericho said, “By training I am a scientist. I only care about the facts. You are an investigator. You should only care about the facts. In that way what we both do is very much alike. Facts are irrefutable. Truths coming from those facts can be difficult to accept, particularly when they are of a personal nature. But truths, Agent Puller, cannot be ignored. Any more than lies can. And people do lie to themselves. All the time. We dupe ourselves into believing that our motives are pure, our actions purer still. But at some point, one has to face up to them for what they are. But one fact does exist here, and I will reiterate to you exactly what it is: If you pursue this it will not turn out well for you.” She abruptly rose. “Thank you for coming to see me. I doubt we will meet again.”

  Claire Jericho turned and left.

  Chapter

  52

  KNOX EXCLAIMED, “I have never met a bigger bitch in my life. The crap that came out of her mouth? And the arrogance? I wanted to kick the shit out of her. And she’s working for our side?”

  They were sitting in his car in the parking lot of Building Q, the lights of the facility the only thing breaking the darkness.

  “I just wanted to shoot her,” said Puller quietly.

  He stared up at the façade of the old building and then gazed at the high fence and armed gate.

  “You noticed they didn’t let us see anything that was going on in there?”

  “I guess they’d say we weren’t cleared for it.”

  “I would bet that few people are.”

  “So the real purpose of her wanting to see you was to tell you to back the hell off or it will not turn out so well for us,” said Knox.

  “I don’t think she left any possibility of misinterpretation.”

  “And are you going to back off?”

  “What do you think?”

  She smiled. “So what’s our next step?”

  “Finding Paul.”

  He put the car in gear and drove out of the lot. They headed out of Fort Monroe.

  There were no other cars about at this time of night. Across the water were Fort Wool and Naval Station Norfolk.

  They had just passed through the entrance to Fort Monroe along the waterfront when the car jerked, slowed, and then suddenly accelerated to nearly eighty miles an hour. Knox was thrown back against her seat by the force.

  “Puller, what the hell are you doing?”

  “It’s not me,” he snapped. “It’s the car.”

  He slammed on the brake and then tried to shift into park. Neither maneuver worked. He dug his foot under the accelerator pedal to try to pry it up but it wouldn’t budge.

  The speedometer clicked to a hundred and they were still accelerating.

  “Omigod!” screamed Knox as the car veered sharply to the left and cut across the oncoming lane, very nearly flipping in the process before the rubber regained firm traction.

  What was about to happen would make them both wish the car had flipped.

  The vehicle hit a bump, went airborne, cleared the low wall, sailed into open space, and then gravity forced the nose of the car down and they slammed into the dark waters of the channel.

  The air bags deployed and Puller was stunned by both the impact of the water and the gas-filled bag slamming into him. The car started to quickly sink into the brackish water of the channel.

  Puller shook his head clear and looked over at Knox. Her eyes were closed and there was blood on the side of her head. Despite the front and side air bags she must have hit something.

  Puller had been trained to never panic under any circumstances. And thus the water rising and the car sinking did not cause him to lose his nerve.

  He unsnapped his seat belt and reached over to do the same to Knox’s.

  It was jammed. He pulled out his Ka-Bar knife from its leather holder on his belt, put the blade under the harness strap, and cut away.

  By now the car was under the surface and water was pouring in from crevices all over the vehicle. Puller was now operating in near-total darkness. It was like he was flying through fog without instruments.

  He reached up, felt around, and hit the button for the inside light and it miraculously came on. He kept cutting away, his mind jumping ahead to what he would have to do next.

  The water was not deep here, he knew, about thirty feet. But it was deep enough to kill them if they couldn’t get out.

  The harness finally gave and he pulled the unconscious Knox free. The water was now up to their waists.

  Keeping the slumping Knox’s head above the water, he turned and kicked out against the door. But having to push through the water was weakening the strength of his kicks, and the water was now up to the bottom of the window.

  He held Knox in one arm, bracing her head against the ceiling of the car as he gripped the door handle with his free hand. He opened it and pushed his shoulder against the door. He could feel it give just a bit. If he could put his full bulk against it, he was sure he could get it open.

  The only snag was that to do that he would have to let go of Knox.

  And she would fall into the water, which was up to his chest now. Despite his training, he felt panic rising.

  He maneuvered Knox on top of him, her face pointed to the ceiling, and then he slid over to the door and pushed against it. He could feel it give some more, but the water pressure was now too