Just like Grant, she’d fallen for someone who wasn’t fully available to her. And that was not something she was going to do any longer.
Chapter 35
‡
“You have not found Kennedy? You have the address,” the teacher said.
“May I tell you about a plan I am developing?” Moustafa answered.
“You aren’t paid to formulate plans. You are paid to do as you’re told.”
Moustafa was going to lose his temper one time with this teacher and then it would be too late. “Why is this Kennedy man so important?”
“He took something that belonged to me. He jeopardizes taking even more. It is a price I cannot pay. I must find him to complete my mission.”
Moustafa knew if he asked he wouldn’t be given the answer, so he didn’t ask what the mission was. But he felt the teacher had made a mistake. He let on how important Kennedy was to him.
He had not known the teacher as a particularly religious man, not like his last teacher, who was a local cleric, at least. This one was a businessman, a secular, so Moustafa wasn’t sure they worshiped the same God.
“You will take the others to help you. I have brought money, and tickets to Portland, Oregon, where we’ll meet up at the training center. If your mission is cut short, we will meet in heaven.”
Moustafa was prepared to meet the prophet, but he didn’t like the casual way the teacher played with his life. He agreed to pick Kennedy up and report back when he had him.
Raymond Corrigan was not prepared for the visit from Lieutenant Commander Forsythe. It had been two days, and he was to be discharged. He planned to go back to New York. Derek had been transported to a private brain injury trauma center back there already. His empire was suffering from the vacuum his absence had created.
“Your son’s house has been ransacked, Mr. Corrigan.”
“Is Rory okay?” He felt his heart pounding in his chest.
“Yes, he’s with his teammates at an undisclosed location. However, at the moment, we are more concerned about you and your safety.”
“Don’t be. I have a crack team that has been working here to keep me safe. They’re ready to watch me night and day. I’m going to be very careful. But I just cannot sit here working from my new computer in my pajamas. My business isn’t run that way. I’ve got analysis to prepare, trades and trends to track, meetings to attend. It cannot be done from a hospital bed, gentlemen. That’s all there is to it. My company does not function without me, and that means my investors lose money, unless I am there to run it.”
“We can’t force you to stay behind. But you are most definitely a target. You were always the target and still are. They failed the first time. They learn, sir. You might not be so lucky the second time around. The SEALs won’t be anywhere close to save you this time.”
“I understand. But that wasn’t the plan, was it? You and your Feds with the cooperation of the San Diego P.D. were supposed to sweep these guys up. You had all the tracking information on that computer of mine. Why haven’t you located them?”
“We’re working on it.”
“And that’s why I’m a business man. We don’t operate that way. You have all this equipment and bullshit stuff to use, and you are stumbling over each other with your jurisdictional protocols and political handcuffs. I don’t operate in such a world.”
“And you’re not concerned they’ve found his house?”
“I assumed you take precautions. You said they’d be monitoring Rory’s house. You said they’d be protecting the families. Don’t expect that I will wait for any of you to get the kinds of results required to shut down this operation. I’m going to make a few million while you’re playing with your dicks.” He hesitated to add, “And then I’m going to convince my son to leave the Teams and come work for me.”
“They’ll try to use him to get to you.”
It had touched him that his son had put himself in harm’s way to save him and now was in further danger. But Corrigan felt he was a liability to the young SEAL the longer he remained on the West Coast, the longer he was at the beck and call of the doctors, the Navy, and anyone else who mistakenly tried to control him. Just like years ago, although he’d wished it were otherwise, he’d thought Rory would be better off without him and gave up the search. Too soon. That had been his mistake. Now he was leaving him for Rory’s safety, not his own. He hoped he could get through to the Naval officer.
“I think Rory demonstrated he can handle himself. I actually think it will be safer for him if I went back to New York. Tariq has a better chance of getting me there. That’s our turf. He knows my business associates and some of my habits.”
“The Feds will want to watch and coordinate a strategy. You won’t be free to roam, Corrigan.”
“Look, Forsythe, let’s be honest here, I understand what you’re saying, but I have nowhere to stay that’s secure here. What, you’re going to put me up at a Motel 6 while you figure things out? I mean you no disrespect, but we are playing on two separate fields with different equipment.”
He could feel his blood pressure rise. He could also see he was beginning to offend Forsythe, and that wasn’t very smart. “I’ve been in sticky situations before. I’ve hired extra security here at the hospital. I’ll have it on the private plane I’ve chartered. I have my office and home fully secured. Here, I have nothing. I’m a sitting duck, waiting for what? Waiting for some crazed fanatic—”
“Tariq is not a fanatic.”
“Whatever.” Corrigan was losing his patience. “I’m going home today, and you’re not going to stop me.”
Chapter 36
‡
His handler was waiting for him on the park bench overlooking the rocky shoreline at the entrance to the boat harbor. His shoulders looked more rounded than he’d remembered, and then he recalled the disguise. It was doing a good job making him look like an older man with no dreams left in him. Moustafa wondered if any part of this was true. The old teacher would have never shown such vulnerability.
A wide crushed granite running trail that wound around the inlet edges surrounded the grassy area in the middle of the park. Several stops along the way had runner’s exercises posted.
The expensive yachts tied up to the dock could feed a small country for ten years, he thought as he strolled toward the bench. The handler was staring off into the horizon, distracted and seemed not to notice his approach. Moustafa’s greeting made the man jump.
“If you still haven’t found him, what have you to report?”
Moustafa handed the man the photograph of his warrior in U.S. forces desert camo, shoulders locked with two other bearded men. The SEAL’s coarse hair stuck out at odd angles under the backwards baseball cap with the Punisher logo on it. He’d uncovered it in one of the desk drawers, shoved back under several boxes of checks and bank statements.
The statements and checks belonged to one Rory Kennedy. He dropped a pad of checks into his teacher’s lap and waited.
Slowly, the handler’s spine straightened as he read the name. His fists bunched, one crushing the photograph he still held. Moustafa could feel the anger in the older gentleman coming to a crescendo of dangerous proportions.
“My bearded one is your Rory Kennedy, teacher.” Moustafa said the obvious and squinted to watch the seabirds at play. When the handler didn’t say anything, Moustafa wondered if the man was on some form of mood-altering medication.
“It appears my mission and your mission—”
“Is fucked. My mission is—”
That was when Moustafa noticed the handler had been crying. “You are ill, teacher?”
“My family is gone. They are all gone. I have nothing to live for.”
A second before Moustafa let the information sink in, for just one tiny flash of a second, he understood what the man was feeling. He’d forced himself to wipe the weakness from him, but there it was. Then it was gone. He ground his back molars and let the cold breeze from the inlet chill his
bones and put out the ache in his heart. The glistening blue water contrasted the white boats with the clinking sounds of metal against metal as their bundled masts waited idly for owners to come rescue them from their sleep.
He knew every man had to come to terms with the grief. Had to learn to hate the Americans and everything they stood for. They impossibly blocked the doorway of chaos. They would pay the price for their folly in the fires of hell soon coming. He spoke the only words that came to him.
“Revenge. We get you the revenge you richly deserve, teacher. I have devised a plan that—”
The handler stood and turned on him so fast Moustafa thought that perhaps he was going to knife him in the gut. His eyes were dangerous and red, wild-eyed, almost like the prisoners before their execution. He was the face of death itself.
“Raymond Corrigan robbed me of my family. Now I will rob him of his. And then it will be over for me. Until then, I will live for the day when Raymond Corrigan will watch me kill his son. And then I’ll kill him.”
Moustafa knew he had to be careful. He diverted his gaze, giving the teacher some private space. In some respects, he felt as though he was the teacher now. He’d been down this lonely road. It had hardened him, given him focus and purpose. He knew that very soon it would do the same to his handler as the hatred settled in. They were all part of the chaos, part of the grand scheme of things to bring about the new kingdom, the plan the Americans were foolish to think they could uncover.
He made sure his voice was as soft as when he used to talk with his son. “Teacher, although I have not located Rory Kennedy, I do know the location of his woman. And I know the locations of several of the families.”
It had no effect on on his handler.
“I know much about where they go and what they do. My surveillance will be very useful. You will see. The Prophet will give you the death of Mr. Corrigan and his son, and we now have the power to strip away the object of his son’s desire.”
The handler flashed him a look like a drowning man who’d just grabbed a lifeline in a swirling sea.
“God is great.”
“God is great indeed, teacher. You will see I will help you do this.”
Chapter 37
‡
The surveillance team lost Megan after work. Forsythe wasn’t happy about it and notified Collins. Collins placed a call to her and she answered on the first ring.
“Megan, this is Rory’s Chief. Where are you?”
“I’m sipping on a margarita, eating oysters, getting drunk, and enjoying my view of the beach and all things on it bold and beautiful.”
She sounded loopy, Collins thought. “You got to tell us where you go.”
“No, I don’t. I’m not involved anymore. I can’t do this. Call me stupid, but I’m going to go spend the next few days reading and drinking margaritas, maybe lots of margaritas. I don’t want this life of super covert dangerous stuff and secrets. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Megan, you’re being a fool.”
“Oh, sir, I assure you, I’ve been a bigger fool. I’m changing that. Time to go back to the land of make believe, to the times of happily ever after, where the woman always wins and they sail off into the sunset somewhere. That’s what I want. And I know just how to achieve that, sir.”
Collins swore as he shook his head.
“Now that’s the first honest thing you’ve said. You’re right, this is totally screwed up. But you know what? It’s my life and I’m going to live it how I see fit.”
“You don’t understand these people.”
“The SEALs? They’ll be fine. I’ve been a complete idiot. This isn’t for me. I’ve been talking myself into it, and that isn’t getting me anywhere. I can’t do this anymore.”
“Wait a minute, I don’t mean the SEALs. There’s a real threat out there. We’ve been trying to protect you.”
“Oh yeah? When were you going to tell me you had all the women and children moved to a “safe” house, huh? Or did you not feel like that was appropriate information to me? So you decided to leave me out there on my own, with Rory, God knows where, and just leave me alone to forage for myself? That kind of protecting me?”
“You haven’t been foraging by yourself. We’ve been watching. From the sidelines.”
“What? You’ve had me under surveillance?”
“Yes. 24/7.”
“I haven’t seen anyone.” She was calming down.
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be, Megan. We didn’t want to tell you because, well, we didn’t—”
“Didn’t want me to act any differently. So I am the bait after all. You know, I think this conversation is over. Everything’s over. I’m getting drunk and causing a big scene here and that is all. Over. And. Out!”
She hung up.
“Fuck it.” Collins stared down at the phone on his desk. Forsythe was still standing in front of him.
“We can get a locator on her.”
“Oh sure, that will go over nicely, besides, I don’t think it will be fast enough,” Collins responded. “Wow, I didn’t see this coming, did you?”
“No, Chief Collins. But then we’ve just been going by what Rory’s told us. She works in a fuckin’ bookstore. She reads books all the time, he says. I didn’t think this would be a problem for her.”
“Someone must have talked. One of the wives.”
“That’s gotta be it.” Forsythe walked to the window, staring at the parking lot beyond. “Then we have no choice. We gotta get Rory to call her. I think he’s the only one who can knock some sense into her.”
“Women. She’s as hardheaded as he is. He’s going to lay into me when he finds out we lost her. And how the hell did that happen, Forsythe?”
“Good old Friday night San Diego traffic. They were being careful. She never turned off to her place, just kept on driving.”
“Let’s get those phone signal coordinates just in case. Can you sign off on that?”
“I’ll get it started.”
After Forsythe left the room, Collins placed a call to Rory and got his voicemail.
“Son, Chief Collins here. We’ve got a problem and I need to talk to you right away. It’s urgent.”
He hung up the phone. They trained and had a plan for everything. Everything was done by the book. Even the SEAL operations were by the book, practiced so many times that when the unexpected came up, they’d already expected and planned for it.
But this, protecting his SEAL community from threats right inside the U.S., this wasn’t anything they’d trained for.
And that was a big fucking mistake.
Chapter 38
‡
On her second margarita, Megan slipped off her sandals and propped her feet onto the sailcloth cushions dotting the large deck outside the Hotel Del Coronado’s bar. The Friday night crowd was festive.
Space was getting crowded and she didn’t want to share with a fresh-faced young couple in love. Or an older couple in love. Or a couple of guys looking to pick up someone cute. She really didn’t want to be near anybody. When the hostess seated a young newlywed couple across from her and asked if she’d mind sharing the fire pit and table, she got up and left after emptying her drink.
Her rather loud phone conversation with Collins had turned some heads, but she was beyond caring. Tears were threatening to well up. The alcohol went right into her system since she’d not eaten anything since breakfast. She stuffed her sandals into her purse and took the steps down to the beach and the roaring ocean beyond.
The warm sand felt wonderful under her feet and between her toes. She thought about the last two days. She’d been in shock after the lunch with Lindsay. The next day she threw herself into her work again and again but failed to be able to crack a book or settle down. No calls from Rory came in, and of course Lindsay didn’t call either. She realized now what she’d been feeling. She’d been scared.
She looked at every customer cross-eyed, examined every detail abo
ut him or her. She couldn’t go to her yoga class because she’d seen that young Middle Eastern man there who had only wanted to ask her name. And she’d treated him like an enemy combatant. She imagined she was being followed, and now knew for a fact that she was. But she’d worked on herself, telling herself it was just nerves, only to find out her instincts were good on this one. Rory had said to trust her instincts. That’s what was making her crazy. She could imagine just about anything.
Exhausted, she had decided to leave early, telling them she was still not feeling well from the few days ago when she took off to be with that damned SEAL who rocked her world in spite of how she wanted it to be something else. Her heart was hooked, hanging on a clothesline, little kids throwing darts at it. Only thing she could do was sit idly by and drink a margarita.
Along the walk down the beach she saw the yellow emergency fencing separating the common area of the beach from the training area where the SEALs did their thing. An instructor was barking orders with a blow horn. A string of some thirty men were lined up on their backs, locked arm in arm, letting the surf cover their faces as they shouted answers to their instructor’s commands. She examined the flat abs and muscled torsos of these men, every one of them reminding her of Rory, and how he looked as he peered down on her, as she waited for him to—
How am I going to do this? Should I just leave San Diego? Where would I go?
The answer was: Anywhere, U.S.A. Anywhere without a beach, the ocean, the blue skies, anyplace where they didn’t have guys with chiseled abs running in front of her double file. Anywhere the young Marines and Navy recruits didn’t celebrate in the bars and restaurants. Anywhere that didn’t have a brotherhood from which she was excluded.
Just how much Rory knew of what they were doing with her, she didn’t know. But one thing was certain. He didn’t care enough about her to tell her there was a safer place to live. Something to ease her mind, help her feel she could be part of this community. But no, he’d kept secrets again. Just like—well not just like Grant—at least Grant’s secrets wouldn’t get her killed.
SEAL My Home: Bad Boys of SEAL Team 3, Book 2 (SEAL Brotherhood Series 9) Page 17
