by Lea Griffith
Allie wanted to stand up and dance a jig. He was miserable? She was a horrible person for enjoying hearing that, but she couldn’t help herself. “I sure hope so,” Allie said.
Vivi laughed. “I’d hoped you weren’t like your father.”
Allie was brought back to earth just that quickly. “I’m not. At least not like you’re thinking.”
“So why else did you bring me here? I only have a little time before Rook is scheduled to meet me at the Smithsonian,” Vivi relayed.
“Why the hell are you out and about in the middle of DC when they’re all wanted men?”
“We’re just that good at what we do,” Vivi singsonged. Then she smirked and said, “Harrison Black, uh, I think you met him in Spain—and by the way, you’re going to have to tell me about Spain, Allie. Yep, I want deets, and before you open your mouth to protest, you owe me. I’ve yet to this day to see King McNally smile, and Black and Knight swear he did it for you.” Vivi took a breath, then started right back in. “Anyway, Black is great with identities and costumes. We get by very well. His work can beat even my own facial recognition software, and that is no small thing.”
“So you hide in plain sight?” Allie asked. Was Vivi wearing a disguise right now?
“You could say that. We actually frolic our asses off in plain sight, and it serves us well. So our team members may be wanted, but they won’t be caught.”
Allie heard the underlying note of fear in Vivi’s voice. It echoed in her own soul. “Someone is trying very, very hard to catch them, Vivi. And that’s why I asked you here today.”
Vivi eyeballed her. “Okay,” she said finally.
To say Allie was startled at Vivi’s easy capitulation wasn’t doing the emotion justice. “Okay?”
“Yeah. I think His Highness is an ass, but he’s our ass, and a better leader I’ve never met. He commands respect not with his words but with his actions. He’s fair, loyal, and one of the best killers I’ve ever seen. King’s team rallies behind him without question. He’s the single most instinctive soldier I know. If he trusts you, I can do no less.”
“What I want to do could get us all killed,” Allie whispered.
“If you’re here, you obviously have information that could also save us. Stop being such a negative Nelly, yeah? Now tell me what you need,” Vivi said firmly.
“I need to know what went down in Beirut, who your team’s contacts were. I need the mission’s spec ops, all operational contacts, and communication audio from all sources. There was a communication to Horace Dresden’s phone within moments of Endgame’s helo hitting Lebanese airspace. You were monitoring Dresden’s sat phone.”
Vivi didn’t say yay or nay. That made Allie uneasy.
“You were monitoring his incoming and outgoing communications, and there was a call from a number traced back to DC. Yes, it was routed all over the world and back, but it ended here. Have you listened to the communication, Vivi?”
Vivi crossed her arms and stared at Allie.
Allie nodded. “You have. Does anyone know you have that?”
Vivi shook her head.
“I won’t ask why you didn’t tell your husband. None of my business, but you know what was said. I need that communication, and I need it soon. I also need the other information as soon as possible, Vivi. Today would be nice.”
“You know who it is,” Vivi said after a long, pregnant pause.
“I can neither confirm nor deny, and I think you know, Vivi, that at this point, you’re better off in the dark.”
“You are asking me for the moon. If King, or hell, if the Piper finds out I gave that information to Broemig’s daughter, my ass is grass.” Vivi blew out a rough breath and put her elbows on the table, settling her chin on her folded hands and just watching Allie. “You love him, don’t you?”
Allie cocked her head. Vivi was solid; Allie knew it in her gut. “I do.”
Vivi pulled a small slip of paper from her messenger bag and slid it across the table to Allie. She took it and folded it gently before putting it in her pocket.
“That’s an encryption key. I created a new email account for you, and that address is on there too. I’ll have it to you tonight,” Vivi told her softly. She sat back, breathed in deeply, and smiled at Allie. “You think you can fix this? Because if you think you can, I’ve got one more piece of information to, you know, just casually drop in your lap before you leave.”
Allie grimaced. “I think I’m just going to make it worse. The person at the root of this isn’t going to stop fighting just because little ol’ Allie Redding is coming for him. But can I help get this immediate issue taken care of, get the men of Endgame Ops off the justice Tilt-A-Whirl, and throw that person off a little bit? You bet your fucking ass I can.”
Vivi raised her fist. Allie did the same, knowing what she wanted. They fist-bumped and stood to their feet.
“What do you have for me?” Allie asked.
“A name. The CIA’s deputy director, Grant Horner. He’s an interesting fellow, likes to write things down, personal notes and such. You should look into him, and if you find what I think you’ll find… Well, it should help all of us,” Vivi said with a Cheshire-cat smile.
Allie nodded, an icy, numbing cold sweeping through her. How many people were going to betray her father? How widespread was this?
Vivi left, and Allie followed. They departed the bistro and headed in opposite directions.
Allie smiled to herself even though her throat was rapidly closing in the choking grip of fear. She was nuttier than a fruitcake to think she could do this.
Chapter 32
“This meeting is brought to order. First order of business for the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence is the business of CIA Deputy Director Grant Horner. Mr. Chairman, I request permission to call Gray Broemig, director of the CIA, to the floor,” said Herman Morton, the Republican senator from Virginia.
“Permission granted,” Chairman Crawford Giles said.
He was a bastard of a man. His constituents voted for him year after year as if they were afraid that if they didn’t elect the crotchety old son of a bitch, their great state of South Carolina would cease to exist in the Union.
“Turn that up, Jonah,” Vivi said loudly from the kitchen. “And stop feeding my cat Twizzlers.”
“It’s C-SPAN, Vivi. Do we have to?” Knight asked. “And your cat likes Twizzlers.”
“Turn it up,” Rook said from his perch by the window. He was cleaning his guns just like King was.
Knight kept feeding the cat Twizzlers in between big bites of his own. Endgame was supposed to ship out next week. The Piper had a mission in the Ukraine, and all of them were going—except Chase, who remained in Burundi, and Jude, who couldn’t be found. King’s team was still flying under the radar, but when the Piper called, you damn well listened and obeyed.
King had signed on with the Piper, knowing he’d done the right thing. The honorable thing. Endgame took missions the government couldn’t sanction. The Piper remained somewhat of an enigma, but he’d never lied to King. Lately though, King had been wondering what the hell the Piper’s true endgame was. One day, King was going to ask him what the fuck they were all doing. He was going to demand everything the Piper had kept from him. But today wasn’t that day.
“Piper said we need to watch, so turn that shit up and shut up while you do it,” Vivi yelled.
Knight turned that shit up in a hurry.
C-SPAN was carrying the meeting live. Director Broemig was sworn into the proceedings—a meeting called specifically in reference to his deputy director, who was now charged with espionage. King didn’t personally feel that these types of meetings should be held in full view of the public. He was a bit hard core when it came to keeping secrets. The general public didn’t necessarily need to know everything that went on behind their backs.
“Director Broemig, thank you for coming today. The council and I appreciate it. As you know, we’re here to discuss the charges against your deputy director. Can you tell us, sir, just how far-reaching this problem with Horner is?” Senator Morton asked.
“Well, Sirs and Madams of the Committee, I can tell you that Horner was remanded into custody last evening, and the charges have merit. Just how far-reaching this case goes, I don’t know yet,” Broemig answered.
“It’s your job to keep your people under control, Broemig. Can you not handle your duties? I find it hard to believe the head of the CIA had no idea what was going on in his own backyard. I want to know how deep this goes,” Chairman Giles demanded.
“Chairman, as far as not knowing what’s going on in my own backyard, well, I’m not the only one with issues in that department. What I can tell you is that apparently it goes very deep. People in our government have both aided and abetted DD Horner. The specifics will have to wait for the entirety of the investigation,” Broemig bit out.
“You don’t have control of your own damn agency, Director Broemig, and you’re telling me I need to wait for answers?” Giles questioned harshly. “Maybe you aren’t the man for the job. Just who are the people you’re investigating?”
Giles’s question was oily. King sat up straighter in his chair, glancing around the room to find every member of Endgame paying attention to the television.
“I’m glad you asked, Chairman. To answer that, I’ve brought in a witness with special knowledge about this case,” Broemig said lightly.
And there she was, dressed in a prim pencil-skirt suit, light pink to contrast nicely with her long blond hair. Her heels made his mouth water, and that walk made him want to tell every man in the room to look away. She smiled at her father, was sworn in, and sat down beside him. Though King found it interesting she’d been introduced as Allison Redding.
Were they still trying to keep a lid on that?
“Take all the time you need,” Senator Morton said with a smile.
“Thank you, sir,” Allie replied in a lilting voice.
King was hard just that quick. He missed her. It’d been over a week since he’d left her at her father’s house, and he’d been lying low in Port Royal at Endgame Ops headquarters. They were back in the game, but King’s head wasn’t quite there yet. He was too wrapped up in what he’d walked away from.
Every man and woman on the council seemed to be staring at Allie. She cleared her throat and smiled again. With the exception of Chairman Giles, every man on the panel smiled back.
“I have names, but we still need confirmation on one. That’s why I’m here today,” Allie told them softly. “Deputy Director Horner had contacts in the government that he had cultivated over a long period of time. Unfortunately, DD Horner took his own life last night with a cyanide capsule, and Director Broemig lost the ability to question him directly. But we discovered, during the course of our initial investigation, that Horner took meticulous notes. Names, dates—he had it all in a notebook he stored in a safe at his home on Long Island. We are in receipt of that notebook.”
She dropped that bomb and sat back, a placid smile on her beautiful face. She was holding a card, and King’s breath locked in his chest.
Vivi gasped. “Hey, Rook?” Her husband stopped cleaning his gun long enough to glance up at her. “I should have told her he’d probably off himself, huh?”
“Nothing would have stopped him,” Rook said dispassionately. “Nothing ever stops them.”
Allie’s voice pulled King’s attention back to the huge television.
“I’m not sure if any of you are aware of the fact that Director Broemig is my father. My full name is actually Allison Elizabeth Redding Broemig. Four weeks ago, I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Cameroon catching a flight home. My plane was hijacked, but thankfully there was a man on that plane who saved my life. I won’t give you his name right now, because while it’s important to me, it’s not for the purpose of this meeting. Not yet anyway.”
King wanted to shout at her to stop. Dresden and Loretta Bernstein were still out there. Whoever had it out for Endgame Ops was still out there. Putting herself in the public eye would take away any hope of safety for her.
“Goddamn, Allie,” he whispered, but everyone heard and turned to glance at him. “Shut the hell up,” he told them and looked once more at the screen.
“While I was on that plane, I was privy to a phone conversation between the lead hijacker and another entity, a man with an American accent. The American was giving orders, and he told the terrorist very specifically who I was and that he should either kill me or hand me over to Horace Dresden.”
She took a deep breath, the serene look on her face never cracking. “I think you all know who Horace Dresden is.”
King remembered the look on her face as the terrorist had taken that call. Her eyes had widened, and then she’d acted as if she’d heard nothing. She’d heard that conversation. Then she’d told him she had great hearing and now had proceeded to prove it.
King’s palms began to sweat.
“I mentioned a man on the plane, also an American, who saved my life. I came to find out later that he was a member of Endgame Ops. You remember Endgame Ops, right, Chairman Giles?” she asked coquettishly.
The members of the council all turned to look at Giles, who simply shrugged. His face was turning red.
“I think you do remember them—a private entity doing contract work for the U.S. government. They were involved in a busted special operation in Lebanon. It caused a pretty nasty international incident, and you were the one who pushed the hardest to have Endgame team members tried as traitors in absentia for the events that occurred in Beirut on July 13, 2015. You were the one who demanded they be found and brought to justice. You were the one who had them put on the terrorist list.”
She waited for several long moments before she started right back in. “I’m pretty sure you remember, but back to the hijacking. After he saved my life, I was hidden by this brave American who kept me safe and protected, but we were continuously pursued by people who wanted to capture me. One of those men finally succeeded, and I was privy to a conversation between the same American I’d heard on the plane and this new attacker.”
Giles was sweating now. The camera panned over Allie, her father, and then the committee. It returned to focus on Allie, but King recognized fear and Giles was in the midst of a bad case.
“Go ahead, Ms. Redding. We’re waiting,” Senator Morton said kindly.
Her father reached for her hand and held it.
“The American told the new attacker—Vasily Savidge, who works for Horace Dresden—to do what he would with me as long as I returned to my father in pieces. ‘That should put Broemig in his place,’ the American said. Savidge promised to do that, but once again, the man from Endgame Ops saved my life. He risked his own to save me, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.”
“So what are you wanting here today, Ms. Redding? I thought we were here to discuss DD Horner,” a female senator from Texas said in her long, slow drawl.
“Well, Senator Perry, we are here to discuss DD Horner, or more accurately the role he plays in all of this. But first I must address the issue of the voice. You see, I’m here because I recognize the voice from both the hijacking and my incident with Vasily Savidge. My hearing has always been excellent. And I’ve heard that voice here today.”
Chairman Giles rapped his gavel. “Order,” he said. “I can’t believe this. You’d make a mockery of this meeting, Broemig?”
Broemig covered the mic and asked Allie a question. She mouthed, I’m sure and nodded.
Then she stood up and addressed the entire National Security Council. “I’ve heard the voice twice now, very distinctively on two separate occasions when my life was on the line. Of course mistakes can be made in the midst of terror-filled
situations. I questioned whether or not I was right to be adamant about the owner of the voice, and then I was made privy to a recording from July 13, 2015. A communication placed from a residence here in DC to Beirut, Lebanon, and one Mr. Horace Dresden. I know the full contents of that communication, listened to it in its entirety, and once again I heard a voice that sent chills up my spine.”
Giles was sweating now. The other senators were in an uproar, demanding to know what was going on.
“Ladies and gentleman, the voice I heard belongs to your chairman, Crawford Giles.”
Silence fell over the room, then cameras began flashing.
Giles stood, face red, mouth falling open and shutting at a rapid rate.
Senator Morton stood and demanded order. “Ms. Redding, how can you be sure?”
“I understand your doubt. You cannot accuse based on my hearing alone, but once we knew what to look for, my father found it with ease. Remember the notebook DD Horner was hiding?”
Morton nodded.
“It lists the names of ten people, all in positions of power within the United States government and all people who have links to Horace Dresden. The notebook clearly shows monetary exchanges, account information, and dates the money was placed into these accounts. We do not know why the money was relayed from Dresden to these people, but we can assume it was payoff for favors. Since Osama bin Laden was eliminated, Horace Dresden has become public enemy number one. Why would anyone in a position of power for the United States take money from him? We are working on figuring out the specifics now, but four of the ten names are of particular interest to today’s meeting and my own circumstances in Cameroon and after.”
The smile never left her face, but King’s heart was beating like a racehorse’s. Fear tingled down his spine as his breathing slowed. His hands clenched, and the need for action had his adrenaline spiking. But he remained where he was because he couldn’t do anything else.
“Well, young lady, we’re waiting,” Senator Morton reminded her.
