The Attorney General promised a swift investigation and justice. The governor promised harsh sentences for every last person involved in the cover-up, from the public defender to the prosecuting attorney and everyone in between.
The details of Taylor’s kidnapping and shooting with an arrow were brief but sensational. After all, it’s not every day a man’s laid low by a bow and arrow and lives to tell about it, not to mention the fact he’d pulled the arrow out with his own hands.
Taylor’s thoughts turned to a little boy who thought he had to be a man and take care of his grandfather. Ryder. Poor kid. Killing a man took a lot out of an adult. Ryder had to be suffering, especially now that Luke had taken the blame for him. He’d lost the family he thought he was gaining by letting that arrow fly.
Taylor knew the cure for that feeling of never belonging—a real no-kidding cousin. One who might be willing—and able—to offer a twelve-year-old a much needed lesson on what happened to little boys who shot their much older and bigger, pistol-packing cousin.
“You must be quite a guy,” the doc said while he cleansed Taylor’s back wound.
“Just doing my job.”
The reporter went on to highlight the pain and suffering this police cover-up caused innocent people. It detailed the impact of wrongful incarceration on the lives of Angel Green, Dicky Benjamin, and Lavar Johnson, as well as their families.
A new lawyer in the D.C. area had loudly and publicly accepted their case pro bono. The man swore that not only could he get Angel, Lavar, and Dicky out of jail, he could win them millions in a suit against the state, and he wasn’t afraid to talk to the press, either. His lengthy commentary filled with self-righteous invective covered a good portion of the article.
The section devoted to the White Hawk family was especially touching. Taylor choked as he read the findings at the scene of the crime fifteen years ago, what few there were after the cover-up. He already knew more than most people, but reading the sad account in print made it feel like it had just happened.
He was surprised to read the nursing home that Mary had spent half of her life in was located less than a mile from his current residence. No wonder Gracie knew so much about me.
The article explained how the White Hawk family and others had sacrificed everything to provide for Mary’s care, though she’d never regained consciousness. Taylor couldn’t help the tears that clouded his eyes. He knew exactly who the others were. Patience and Gracie.
And yes, his crazy family had crossed the line in a lot of ways, but he was proud of them. They’d stood by Mary until the bitter end, the same as they’d stood by him. Even the crimes they’d committed were done in the name of love. They might be scary dangerous, but God, he loved them all. Even Ryder, and he hadn’t met the kid yet.
The emergency doctor gave Taylor a shot of a strong antibiotic and a prescription for pain pills. Good enough. Time to find Gracie.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Thank you, Mr. Secretary. The fishing trip is ended. I’ll proceed as directed.” Alex ended his conversation with Arthur Turner as Mark and Taylor entered to his office. He turned to Mark. “Would you invite Mr. Oakes to join us?”
Taylor lifted out of his seat to leave, but Alex waved him to sit. “No. Stay. This affects you.”
“But Boss. I’d rather not. I really need to find Gracie.”
“Sit,” Alex commanded. “I need you here now.”
The order didn’t rest well with Taylor, but damn it. He didn’t need to take off. Not now. It would spoil everything.
Mark returned with Charles, opening the office door so he entered first. An average-sized man with a receding hairline, he seemed likeable enough. Until now, everyone, especially Mother, had enjoyed his addition to The TEAM. Not anymore.
She’d been gracious enough to keep him occupied with some trivial intelligence gathering. Maverick played it cool and chatted with Charlie, kept him thinking they were buddies since their bodyguard stint at the Kennedy Center. The guy probably thought he was smart enough to replace Steele, that he could handle the Chinese on his own. That he couldn’t get caught. Guess again.
Alex was surprised Oakes had the balls to show his face at TEAM Headquarters since Webster’s untimely demise at Quantico was all over the news. Steele’s too. But Charlie didn’t miss a beat. Acted interested. Offered all the right platitudes, how everyone should be proud of Taylor. Even brought two boxes of cinnamon rolls that, for some reason, no one else touched.
Charles quickly made himself comfortable in the only chair open at the table, the one directly across from Alex. “Good morning, Mr. Stewart. Is that a new tie? Hey, Taylor. Good to see you’re back. It’s not every day you find out you’ve got an Indian in the cupboard, is it?”
If he meant that comment as an attempt at humor, it fell flat. Taylor didn’t so much as bat an eye much less smile at the bastard who’d fed evidence of the tragic White Hawk case to a psycho like Steele. Charlie didn’t know that little detail yet. Dumb ass should’ve kept his nose to the ground and done his real job instead of dabbling in high treason and espionage.
If Taylor even hinted at going after Oakes, Alex had half a mind to let him.
“Charles,” Alex acknowledged him. “Are you carrying?”
“No, Mr. Stewart. That’s the rule. We don’t carry in the office.” He looked at the other attendees already at the table. “Why would you ask?”
“Because we’re here to watch a movie.”
Charlie shrugged. “Well, good. Anyone bring popcorn?”
Alex nodded at Mark to activate the video footage taken at Steele’s office by Thane Underwood, Mark’s friend in the FBI and the SECDEF’s double agent.
Charles had sat in that office then just as comfortably as he sat with Alex now—until the video flashed on screen. He straightened in his seat as the truth displayed. The guy finally got it.
“So he thinks the killer is Peter White Hawk?” Steele asked.
“He’s got rock solid evidence, plus he’s got Webster under wraps out at Quantico. Maher and Cross are guarding him.”
Steele grunted. “Those two are nothing. It’s Stewart I want. And White Hawk. Do you know where Armstrong is yet?”
“Still looking.”
“Find him. Soon. Once I’ve got Armstrong, I’ll have White Hawk by the short hairs. I’ll kill Taylor in front of his eyes. By the time White Hawk gets what’s coming to him, he’ll know just what I intended to do his little girlfriend, Gracie Fox, too. And there won’t be a thing he can do to save her, either.”
Taylor shifted in his seat at that revealing info bite, but Alex let the truth roll. If Steele had been successful, Peter would have died thinking Gracie was about to suffer rape and torture at Steele’s hand. Thank God for Taylor’s skill with a blade.
Steele purred, “The only question is how.”
Charles leaned forward, the enthusiasm in his voice unmistakable. “I have some friends at Quantico. They’re not Marines, but I’m sure I can get a man or two inside with their help. If we play our cards right, we could steal Webster right out from under Stewart’s nose. Make him look more inept than he already is. And who knows? We just might catch White Hawk in the same trap. He’s got to be close if Stewart opted for Quantico.”
Alex glanced out of the corner of his eye at the man he’d trusted. Bastard.
Steele tapped his fingertips on the desktop while he deliberated. “That might work, especially if something unfortunate… were to happen to Webster in the process.”
“There’s always that,” Charles agreed. “Stewart would look like a flaming ass if the man the honorable Mayor Gaskin asked him to protect turns up with a broken neck. And you know Gaskin. He’s a peacock. He likes the press.”
“But if things go wrong?”
“They won’t. It’s a no-brainer. We’ve got enough agents to cause a distraction outside the brig while a couple take out Stewart’s people. How hard could it be? Quantico’s a rundown facility. We’ll
steal Webster and—”
“You mean kill him. I’ll take care of that.”
“Understood,” Charles agreed quickly. “Then point the finger at Stewart. Let him take the fall. The press will have a field day with him, might even run him out of town.”
Steele leaned back in his chair with a twisted smile. “This plan has merit. I like it.”
Alex didn’t so much as glance at Charles before the next video flashed to life on the screen. He couldn’t, not without giving his true feelings away. The only saving grace to this operation was that Oakes had already passed the bogus black ops information to his Chinese operatives. Maverick followed him to Dupont Circle and recorded the handoff. No harm done to the country, but Charlie might have a surprise coming when his friends caught up with him.
That and the fact that Peter White Hawk had indeed been inside the brig when Steele’s men caused their little distractions. Peter had indeed subdued the two inside men after they’d subdued Izza and Steven during the phony ORI. That little detail came out during Commander Ryan’s less that amicable interrogation of those two ex-Army jerks. Seemed Ryan hated a traitor as much as Alex did.
It also explained Peter’s USMC uniform when Taylor caught up with him. It was sheer coincidence that Mark and Harley spotted Taylor in Gracie’s car at the Quantico West Gate. They’d just returned from dropping the dogs at a local vet, so they followed Taylor and ended up in the middle of a damned hornet’s nest.
Alex rolled the tweak out of his left shoulder. The inner office security cameras were Mother’s idea. I might have to buy her that damned Cadillac Escalade after all.
The next video excerpt caught Steele and Oakes in the middle of a conversation. Apparently, Steele had just asked after the black op, and Charlie couldn’t wait to spill all he thought he knew.
“Mainland China again, sir. David Tao and Rory Dennison. Just like I predicted.”
Alex allowed a grunt. Liar. How the hell could Charlie have predicted what Mark fabricated?
“I thought Dennison was in Singapore with Maher?” Steele asked sharply.
“He is. Tao will hook up with him there, then they enter China like before.”
“Stewart benched Lennox? What? Is he pissed at his golden-haired boy?”
“For now. It happens. No big deal.”
Steele smiled at that news. “You said this was a HALO jump? I didn’t think Tao did high altitude insertions anymore. Isn’t he getting a little old for that?”
“All Stewart’s agents are HALO qualified, sir. He’s relentless about physical fitness. Their target this time is the Baiyin Nuclear Facility in northeastern Gansu Province.”
“What’s so important that it requires a high altitude jump?” Steele asked thoughtfully.
“Does it matter? If we advise my Chinese operatives in time, the manner of delivery won’t matter. They’ll be waiting for Dennison and Tao. It’ll be a political nightmare for Stewart, especially if his guys are executed.” Oakes grinned, the vicious idiot. “And trust me. They will be executed. The Defense Department will drop Stewart like a rock if they don’t put him in jail for treason. Either way, Secretary Turner comes looking for someone to do the job right. You win.”
“I may have to give you a bonus. I’m quite pleased.”
“Not at all,” Charles replied smugly. “It’s what I do.”
“What about that other matter we discussed?”
“White Hawk’s girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Steele purred. “Gracie Fox. My mother speaks quite highly of her when she’s not talking our of her head. I know Miss Fox cares for Peter, but I hope that’s all. It would disgust me no end if she doted on that old man enough to let him screw her.”
Alex caught the second Taylor stiffened. Don’t hit him yet, son. We want him conscious. For now.
“Let me get this straight.” The pre-recorded version of Charles turned serious. “You’re already going after Stewart by killing Webster and leaking the black op. It’s a good chance Tao and Dennison will be executed on the spot. You might catch White Hawk in the same snare you’ve laid for Stewart. Why do you need her? What’s the deal?”
Instead of answering, Steele’s eyes widened. “Why? What’d you have in mind?”
The way he asked that final question curdled Alex’s blood. It hit Taylor hard, too. He’d stopped watching the video and turned his body toward Oakes, his gaze riveted on the only liar in the room.
Alex recognized the insidious master manipulator behind Charles Oaks. Steele was Kelsey’s evil mother-in-law, Ethel Durrant, come to life again. The world was full of predators, men and women who overpowered others to get what they wanted. Once upon a time his trusting wife had been unwittingly duped into a poisonous marriage by one of those predators. Not anymore. Now she carried. And she knew how to use that sweet little pocket pistol she kept in her purse.
“No, sir,” Charles answered confidently. “I’m not sure what you mean, but if you want her, I can get her. It’ll be easy. She lives out by White Hawk’s place, but as you know, she works at a local assisted living home. I can pick her up anytime. Where shall I take her and how do you want her?”
“Alive. Take her to my studio in Anacostia.”
“Anacostia? Why?”
“Just do it,” Steele snapped. “Keep her quiet. That’s all you need to know.”
Charles was visibly taken aback at Steele’s change in demeanor, just not enough to wise up and jump ship.
“Think of it as one big cake,” Steele purred. “The first layer is Webster. He deserves to die for stupidity if nothing else. The second layer is White Hawk and the agents Stewart’s got guarding Webster. They’ll be difficult to deal with, but doable. Then there’s the China operation. It’s the most difficult, but also the most rewarding. You could say Miss Fox is the frosting on the entire cake—how shall I say it? My just desserts? I could keep her in the studio for months and no one would ever hear her scream. Maybe years.”
At least the video version of Charlie had the good grace to squirm at Steele’s sinister demeanor. The real Charlie didn’t move a muscle until the video ended.
Alex turned with deliberate slowness to the man he’d personally hired but no longer recognized, scrolling past Taylor’s tightly clenched jaw and knowing exactly how his junior agent felt. Maybe it wasn’t smart having him present for these incriminating videos. But then again, maybe it was. Charlie needed to understand real time consequences and what the lethal glint in an honorable man’s eye meant. He needed to feel the promise of death at his throat.
He sat rigid, his cheerful, lying eyes replaced with the calculating glare of a cold-blooded killer who’d been caught. He had to know who held The TEAM’s record for speed and accuracy on the range. Taylor.
“Questions?” Charlie asked arrogantly, his nostrils flared and his arms folded on his chest.
Alex leaned back in his chair with a calculated sigh that in no way meant he was relaxed. Poised might be a better word. He clasped both hands behind his head and turned nonchalantly to Mark and Taylor. “I’ve got nothing. You guys?”
Mark and Taylor didn’t respond, but Alex read them like two handgun user manuals. Mark had daughters. Taylor was head over heels in love with Gracie. Charles didn’t have a prayer.
He grunted like he was still in charge, though. Good. Let him think that. Secretary Turner had the FBI in place. Even if Charlie decided to make a break for it before he made it out of the office, Taylor wouldn’t let him get far. Neither would any of those agents in the outer work bay. Ten to one, they’d already tossed those cinnamon rolls in the trash.
Charles taunted. “Sure you do, Stewart. Come on. Don’t you want to know why? Or how?”
Alex shrugged. “Why and how don’t matter. A bastard’s still a bastard.”
Charles glared, caught off balance by the calm demeanor of the man he’d betrayed.
“I do have one question, though.”
“Of course you do. Go on. What do you want to kn
ow?”
God, he looked smug.
“Do you have any questions, Oakes? Is there anything you’d like to ask me before you leave here today?”
“What could I possibly need from you?”
“Protection,” Alex replied quietly. “You’ve just presented us with evidence of your complicity in the criminal conspiracy to murder Crosland Webster, Peter White Hawk, three of my trusted agents, as well as the intended rape and torture of Gracie Fox. Then there’s the matter of espionage and treason. You’ve knowingly leaked top-secret intelligence of a classified Department of Defense black op.”
Oakes grunted. “You can’t touch me. This evidence you’re so proud of was obtained illegally. You had no warrant. No due process.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“You’ve got nothing. You’re no cop. Why would I need protection from the likes of you? Hell, you can’t even keep up with me. I’ve had you and your inept agents jumping through your asses for weeks.”
Alex leaned forward, his palms against the flat surface of the table to remind him not to leap across it and wring this egotistical sonofabitch’s neck. “It’s not me you need to worry about. The information you passed at the fountain at Dupont Circle at precisely thirteen hundred hours yesterday was false. We set you up. Me. My inept agents. The Secretary of Defense, Mr. Arthur Turner. Oh, yes, and an undercover operator inside Steele’s office. You didn’t happen to run into FBI Agent Underwood, did you? Tall? Coke bottle glasses? Ring a bell?”
That shut Charles Oakes up. For the first time, fear glittered behind the arrogant smirk. He was suddenly not the self-possessed man he’d been seconds earlier. His nose twitched. Just once, the way a trapped animal might when it tests the air for an escape route.
“Just say the word. Secretary Turner and I’ll be happy to provide protection, but only for you. We try to take care of our own no matter how dirty they are.”
Charlie jumped to his feet. “Are we done here?”
Taylor Page 26
