by Lynn Ames
“Yeah? Why don’t you tell me about it?” Trystan bumped Jay’s shoulder with her own.
“I know who I am.” Jay’s voice was nearly a whisper.
“That’s great, right?” Trystan’s heart lurched as she looked down to see the diamond ring on Jay’s finger.
Jay sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Okay. How about if we start simply? What’s your real name? It’s not Alexa, is it?”
“No, it isn’t. My name is Jamison Parker. My friends call me Jay.”
“Hi, Jay. Nice to meet you.” Trystan extended her hand for Jay to shake. She held it for a moment, studying the woman she’d come to know as Alexa. “It suits you.”
“What does?”
“The name—Jay. It’s strong, yet soft. Like you.” Trystan looked down, embarrassed that she had said too much.
“Thanks.”
“What has you so upset? Something’s obviously wrong. Is it the men who tried to kill you?”
“No. I still don’t know who they were or why they wanted me dead.”
Jay fiddled with her ring, trying to find the next words she wanted to say.
“Have you watched the news today?”
“No, I rarely watch the news. Why?”
“The president died.”
“That’s too bad. My mother raves about him, I know.” Trystan shrugged. “Me, I don’t pay too much attention to politics. Amà has given up on talking to me about it. What does the president dying have to do with you?” She watched as a look of unspeakable pain crossed Jay’s face.
The Value of Valor
“I remembered who I am because I saw my…my wife’s face on the television screen. She’s—” Jay cleared her throat. “She was the president’s press secretary.” Tears started falling anew.
Trystan couldn’t help herself. She gathered Jay into her arms and rocked her. “Was?” she asked.
“According to CNN, she…” Jay couldn’t go on.
“Shh, it’s okay, honey. Easy. Shh. I’ve got you.”
After a while, Jay composed herself. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.”
“CNN says that Kate committed suicide.” She took a deep breath.
“They said the combination of the president’s death and mine was too much for her—that she didn’t have anything to live for anymore.”
“Oh, Jay.”
“I remembered too late. If only I could’ve figured it out sooner, Kate would still be alive. It’s my fault.”
“What? It is not your fault. You didn’t know.”
“I should’ve tried harder to figure it out.”
“How could you have?”
“I don’t know.” Jay began sobbing again. “Your mother thought I—
that is, Jamison Parker—was the other woman in the car—the woman who died. She didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t. I guess she thought since it was related to politics, I wouldn’t listen,” Trystan said quietly.
“Trystan, Kate’s gone.” Jay began to shake uncontrollably.
“Shh. I’ve got you.” If Trystan had thought she had any chance of a future with Jay, she knew with certainty at this moment that it had vanished. She leaned her cheek on top of Jay’s head and felt her own tears come.
Jay pulled back first. “Got any tissues?”
Trystan laughed. “I think so.” She went inside, coming back with the box of Kleenex and a garbage can.
“I want you to know how grateful I am for the friendship you’ve given me since I’ve been here. It means the world to me.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Jay. You’re impossible not to love.”
Jay picked a piece of nonexistent lint off her jeans. “I, um, I think you’re a very beautiful woman, Trystan. Under different circumstances, I’m sure—”
“Don’t.” Trystan put two fingers over Jay’s lips. “Please, don’t say another word. I understand where you’re coming from, and I appreciate that you were willing to come here to tell me in person. You’re a very classy lady, Jay.”
Lynn Ames
Since there was nothing left to say, Jay leaned over and kissed Trystan gently on the lips. “I’ll never forget you.” She rose to her feet, looked back once to wave, and walked away.
“I’m the one who will never forget,” Trystan whispered, her fingers reverently touching her lips.
The Value of Valor
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
he sun was warm on her face and sweat soaked her T-shirt, but T Kate kept moving. She knew with certainty that the Commission would be hunting her, and she assumed that eventually they would figure out which flight she had actually taken. The only question in her mind was how long it would take them to be back on her trail.
She pulled out her wallet hoping to find some hidden stash of cash—
no luck. She’d given the boy ten dollars for the shorts, and she’d spent another six on a sandwich at the airport, not knowing when or where she might find her next meal—that left her with one hundred fourteen dollars. Her credit cards were useless since using them would give her whereabouts away. She needed a miracle, or Peter, whichever came first.
She smiled—maybe they were the same thing.
The problem was that every minute she spent waiting for Peter increased her chances of being captured and killed. Her only hope was that he could find her before they did. She smiled grimly. Hope your memory is good, my friend.
“Where are you going again?”
“Camelback Mountain. It’s in Scottsdale.”
“What’s so special about it that you’d hike it in triple-digit temperatures?”
“It’s a very neat mountain—I hike it every time I go to Arizona. If you look at it from almost any angle, it looks just like a camel lying down.”
“That’s nice. I still wouldn’t brave one hundred-degree-plus temperatures for the privilege of sitting atop a camel’s hump.”
It had been a few years since that trip, but Peter was never one to forget a detail. She would just have to put her faith in him now.
The Cholla Trail up Camelback Mountain would take her to the summit. From that vantage point, she hoped she’d be able to see anyone coming or going. She looked at her watch—she’d been hiking for nearly half an hour at a good, strong pace. That would put her at roughly the halfway point to the top. Now we get to the fun part.
Lynn Ames
The remainder of the way would be steep and treacherous, especially in the cheap sneakers she had on. She shifted the small leather duffle to her left hand and used her right to find hand holds in the rocks.
Several times, she slipped and nearly fell to her knees, but in each instance, she was able to catch her balance at the last second. She looked around, checking to see if anyone was following her. So far, she was alone. It worked in her favor that it was a weekday; on the weekends, this trail would be packed.
She wished Jay could be here with her—they’d talked about coming out here together someday. The thought provoked a fresh wave of melancholy. She squeezed her eyes shut as if to ward off the pain. Try as she might, Kate couldn’t seem to go more than a few minutes without thinking about Jay.
Dozens of times in a given day, she would reach for the phone to call Jay or think of something to tell her and plan to share it when they both got home after work. Then she would remember. At night, there were painful reminders everywhere that Jay was gone.
Kate tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. This line of thought wasn’t doing her any good. She needed to focus on the task at hand: survival.
She pressed on, making the summit shortly before noon. She stood for a moment looking out over the valley floor, just taking in the sights of the desert and its own unique beauty. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing herself a moment to savor the peacefulness of the location. Enjoy that while it lasts, Kyle, you’ve got yourself in one hell of a jam this time.
She walked around to the spot w
here the Echo Canyon trail reached the summit and checked that area—she could see what looked to be a mother and daughter about halfway down that side of the mountain, but they didn’t strike her as being a threat.
Turning in all directions, she tried to find the best vantage point from which to see anyone approach. She selected a rock to sit on that allowed her to see traffic from both trails before any hikers would be able to spot her. When she was as comfortable as she could be, she reached down, unzipped the leather bag, and removed the pen and paper she had gotten from her college boy buddy.
Dear Peter,
I’m committing this to writing and sending it to you via mail in case I’m unable to tell you all this in person.
Here is the story of what I’ve learned and what happened to me once I got the information…
The Value of Valor
Peter’s plane landed at just after noon Phoenix time. He waited for the three operatives to deplane before him, then followed them into the terminal and down to the rental car desks. He got in line behind them and listened as they argued with one another about whether or not Kate would have taken the time to rent a car. They decided to split up and check with all the rental car companies represented at the airport. Good, that will give me more time.
Peter paid cash to rent a mid-sized sedan from Hertz. He accepted the maps offered by the clerk, including one for hiking trails in the area, and took one last look around. All three of the operatives were waiting in lines at rental car counters. Smiling to himself, he headed out into the bright sunshine.
Within half an hour, he was parked at the base of Camelback Mountain’s Cholla Trail. He had selected this trail because according to the map, even though it was a longer hike than the Echo Canyon approach, it was less steep. This would make it easier to run up.
From inside his knapsack, Peter pulled a pair of high-powered binoculars. He focused on the mountain’s peak. He couldn’t make out faces, but he could see that there were hikers at the summit. He replaced the binoculars in the bag, settled it on his back, and began jogging up the trail.
He stopped twice to get his bearings, wipe the sweat off his brow, and take a peek at the summit through the binoculars. From this point on the trail, his view was obstructed. All he could do was keep going. Please, Kate, please be there.
Kate watched over the edge as a man in jeans and a T-shirt jogged up the Cholla Trail side, then disappeared from view. She could not make out any features and didn’t want to take any chances. She couldn’t think of any sane reason why someone dressed like that in the midday Arizona heat would be running up a mountainside.
She staked out the large rock she had noticed earlier just off the trail and squatted behind it. With its shelter, at least she would have the element of surprise in her favor.
The three operatives met near the luggage carousel. “Anything?”
“No.”
“Negative.”
“Okay. Let’s focus on the possibilities. Scenario one: She got off one plane and onto another.”
The two other agents nodded.
Lynn Ames
“Scenario two: She grabbed a cab and is still somewhere in the area.
Anybody got any other ideas?”
The female agent, a tall, broad-shouldered woman with shoulder-length, curly hair, spoke up. “She might have picked this destination because she knows somebody here. She could’ve gotten a ride from someone she knew.”
“True, but I think that option is less likely—it means she would’ve had to make a phone call from somewhere.”
“She landed several hours before we did. She had the time.” Lorraine tried to hide her disdain for Steven. At thirty-two, he was the oldest of the three of them and completely self-involved. Unfortunately, he was also the one who had the Viper’s trust. She thought him several watts short of a light bulb.
“Okay, Lorraine. You follow up on the local angle. Interview cabbies and security agents outside who might have seen her get in a car. Paul, you check the airlines—see if the bitch got on another plane. I’m going to check in with the command center to see if they’ve got anything additional. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes.” He looked at his watch: 12:54 p.m. They were losing time.
Peter crested the last rise and arrived at the summit. He was alone. He bent over, breathing heavily, and wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt.
His heart sank. Either Kate had been here and gone or she had never come at all.
He decided to have a look around. He took three steps to his right and looked out over the valley. A voice behind him said, “Looking for someone in particular?” The voice was hoarse with emotion, but he would have known it anywhere. He whipped around just in time to catch Kate, who flew into his arms.
“God, am I glad to see you.” Tears of relief coursed down her face.
Peter was crying, too. “Not as glad as I am to see you, honey.” He squeezed her tightly and rocked them both from side to side. After a few moments, he pulled back and held her at arm’s length. “Are you okay?”
Kate nodded. “Better now, thanks. God, I’m glad you have a mind like a steel trap.”
Peter laughed, “That’s not what you usually say.”
“I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about your anal retentive memory.”
“Gee, thanks. By the way, fancy meeting you in a place like this.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to say that to somebody.”
The Value of Valor
Kate smiled. “Glad I could accommodate you. Now can we get down to business? I mean, I’m assuming I’m still on the rogue squad’s most-wanted list, right?”
“Afraid so. There were three of them on my flight.”
“Great.” Kate’s face paled.
Peter put his arm around her. “It’s okay, Kate. They won’t get anywhere near you if I have anything to say about it.”
“Okay, tough guy.” She wanted to believe him; she had more faith in Peter than she did in anyone in the world, especially in a situation like this. But she had a feeling they were both in over their heads.
“Who are these people?”
Kate looked around, suddenly feeling exposed and uncomfortable.
“Can we talk about it on the way down?”
“Of course. After you.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm for her to precede him back down the trail.
“They’re part of a loose syndicate called the Commission.”
“No kidding.”
“You know them?”
“I’ve heard some rumors. Nothing solid, though.”
“Well, here’s something solid for you—they’re the ones who killed the president. They want to open up Asia and the Eastern bloc countries to their goods and use the people there for cheap factory labor.”
“And President Hyland was in their way?”
“Yes.” The word came out on a whoosh of air as she barely side-stepped a boulder in the middle of the trail. “He never would’ve gone along with their approach, so they needed someone in charge who would be easier to manipulate.”
“Wheeler.”
“Exactly.”
“Is he part of the syndicate?”
“I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure Bob Hawthorne of the DNC is.”
“There’s a guy whose name just keeps coming up over and over again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I did some checking. It looks like the vice president met with Hawthorne just before he made the phone call to China. I figured Hawthorne was the one who sent him to make the call.”
“Looks like you figured right.”
“Kate,” Peter watched the back of her head as it bobbed up and down in rhythm to her strides. “There’s more about Hawthorne you ought to know.”
There was something in his voice that made her pause. “Yeah?”
“It looks to me like he’s been in cahoots with Vendetti.”
Lynn Ames
Her head whipped around. “Vendetti?”
“Yeah.”
“You think he’s part of this?”
“I don’t know. I think that he and Hawthorne were up to something—
and it goes back all the way to your time at DOCS.”
“Two years?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“How do you know that?”
“Vendetti’s phone records.” Peter debated whether to tell Kate about the series of frantic phone calls Vendetti had placed to Hawthorne the day after Jay’s murder. He still hadn’t figured out what connection if any that had to Breathwaite and Hexall. He decided to keep the information to himself for the moment.
“Oh.”
“I tried to check Hawthorne’s records, too, but I got shut out. At the time, I wondered what he was hiding.”
“I guess we know now, huh? The Commission would certainly have the power to block records access. Keith said they had plants everywhere, in every conceivable field.” She felt a renewed wave of sadness thinking about Keith. “They killed him.” Her voice came out shaky.
“Who?”
“Keith—the president’s friend. He knew we’d been exposed at the reception, so he created a diversion and let them take him so I could get away. He was a hero, Peter, and I want to make sure everyone knows that.”
“We’ll make sure they do.”
“He ID’ed three members of the Commission at the reception.”
“Who were they?”
“Wayne Grayson, of Grayson Enterprises; Matthew Wood, CEO of Wood Communications; and Andre L’Andreu, of Oxycon Oil.”
“That’s interesting.”
Kate stopped short. They were almost three-quarters of the way down the mountain. She bent over and put her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “You doing okay, old man?”
“Old man, my ass. I’m not the one who stopped.”
“I was just trying to make sure I didn’t wear you out.”
“Likely story.”
“Peter, what am I going to do?” She searched out his eyes. The closer they got to the bottom, the more difficulty she was having keeping the fear at bay. “These people don’t play around. They won’t stop until they’ve eliminated me.”
He pulled her to him. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you someplace safe and find a way to expose their plan.”
