The Rogue Agent (The Agent Series)

by Daniel Judson

  Tom had known it was only a matter of time before the world intruded.

  His first question when meeting with the Colonel and Raveis in a small greenhouse a few hundred feet from the house was about the status of Hammerton’s recovery.

  “He’s coming along,” the Colonel said. “It’ll be a long road, but he’s walked longer ones.”

  Tom understood that this reference was to the selection process that Hammerton had endured on his way to becoming an SAS trooper.

  Months of surviving in the Scottish Highlands with only what he could carry to sustain him.

  Tom was lucky to have such an ally. “Whatever he wants or needs.”

  The Colonel nodded. “Of course.”

  “And he should be brought here when he’s ready. He deserves to be part of what we all have now.”

  Raveis said, “It’ll be a while before he goes anywhere, Tom.”

  Tom looked at Raveis, the man who’d years ago known his father, who’d done his best to stop the man from getting himself killed.

  And who’d promised to take care of his surviving child.

  Then Tom looked at the Colonel, the man whose invisible hand had sent Tom down his own long road.

  But it was a road at the end of which was the diner in Northwest Connecticut where he’d first seen Stella and found himself entertaining the idea of maybe having the kind of life that other people had.

  Tom knew, though, not to pull at such threads. There was a newfound belief germinating within him that everything happened for a reason. It was, for a man like him, a novel way to view the world.

  “What’s going on?” Tom said.

  The Colonel spoke first. “I wanted you to know that the data we’re finally getting from the cell phones is proving invaluable.”

  “Why finally?”

  “It took a few days to find the right hackers to get us into the devices. And it’s not just the phone they planted on Valena that we’re mining, it’s the phones belonging to the Ballentine brothers and the Algerian, whose name, thanks to you, we now know.”

  “What was it?”

  Raveis answered. “Anton Gateno.”

  Tom nodded but said nothing.

  A part of him wished he hadn’t asked.

  Men like the Algerian were better forgotten.

  The Colonel continued. “We’ve been able to chart their whereabouts via cell-tower pings going back months. One location in particular we were led to was an airport hangar just over the border, in Massachusetts.”

  Raveis said, “We found the body of a woman there. She’d been shot execution-style and buried naked behind the hangar. Time of death is estimated to be the same day you and Stella were attacked. Obviously, no cell phone or ID was found, but as it turns out, she had hidden a flash drive inside herself. An encrypted flash drive.”

  “Inside herself how?”

  Raveis shrugged. “It’s an old trick, easier for a woman than a man.”

  The Colonel said, “Our hacker friends are working on getting into the drive as we speak. It may be nothing, it may be something.”

  “Does any of what you have lead you to the Benefactor?”

  “Not yet, no. But a pattern is emerging. We know what areas his men frequent. And maybe one of the many numbers stored in those devices is his. Either way, his operation is less invisible now, and that makes him less invisible. This is the first break we’ve had. The first real break, anyway.”

  “What do you mean by the first ‘real’ break?”

  “Everything Frank Ballentine acquired, everything his kid brother brought with him when he came to us, was all misinformation. We have no idea at what point, exactly, that Frank turned, or why, for that matter, but we now know how he was turned and by whom.”

  Tom waited.

  “Carrington,” Raveis said. “Carrington planted the mirror of his phone in Hammerton’s apartment, we assume to set Hammerton up to take the fall for his crimes. And it was Carrington who sent the team to kill Hammerton, because dead men can’t prove their innocence. Everything Carrington has done, he’s done in an effort to cover his tracks. That includes contacting you for us. And that includes everything he did to help you after that.”

  Tom recalled the survival cache, the money in the motel room, everything Carrington had said to Tom as his bus pulled out of town. “How can you be sure?”

  “GPS doesn’t lie, Tom. We’ve brought printouts of all the data from the mirror phone, if you want to see it for yourself.”

  Tom needed a moment before he was ready to ask the one question on his mind. “Did he lead the Algerian to Stella and me? To our place?”

  The Colonel shook his head. “The data clears him of that much, at least. They found you by the phone Dante Ballentine had given to Valena.”

  “A strange thing for me to be the one to defend James Carrington,” Raveis said, “but it looks like he was bending over backward to keep his betrayal from affecting you. His beef was with the Colonel and me. I believe he thought he was helping the Benefactor eliminate a witness in Ula Nakash, and that was it. There was no reason for him to believe it would catch up with you the way it did.”

  The Colonel took a step toward Tom. “We need to know if you have any way of contacting Carrington, Tom. We need to find him, and you’re our best bet at getting him to come out of hiding.”

  A similar request had been made of him two years ago when Cahill had gone missing.

  Tom said, “Find him for what reason, exactly?”

  Neither the Colonel nor Raveis answered.

  Of course, they didn’t need to.

  The Colonel and Raveis operated outside the law. It was their mandate, the unique service they provided their country in its time of need.

  Carrington’s crimes weren’t the kind that could be resolved in a court of law. And there was only ever one punishment for treason.

  “The last time I saw him was in Vermont,” Tom said. “He was on a bus, heading out of town.”

  “Any idea where he was going?” the Colonel said.

  “No.”

  “And you have no way of contacting him?”

  Tom shook his head.

  “No code you can text to a cell phone?” Raveis said. “No hidden communication via a newspaper or websites or anything like that? We know he loved his clever codes.”

  Tom shook his head again.

  Raveis studied him, then said, “Would you mind if we looked through your things?”

  Tom smiled. “What things? Everything I own burned.”

  “Then maybe we could take a look around your room here.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the Colonel said. “Tom’s word is all I need. And anyway, he’s a clever guy. If he had something he didn’t want us to find, we wouldn’t find it.”

  Raveis continued to look at Tom. “I understand why you’d want to protect the man. I get that this would be your initial instinct. He was family to you—the only family you knew for a long time. You’re who you are in large part because of him. But he was family to us, too. And there’s no man more dangerous than a man who’d betray his own family, for whatever the reason. With or without your help, I will find him. And he will pay the price for what he did.”

  “Since when is assassination justice?” Tom said.

  “He’s guilty, Tom.”

  “Yes, it seems that way. But things aren’t always what they seem, are they?”

  “We can’t afford to be so . . . evolved,” Raveis said. “Because of what he did, a lot of people are dead. And a lot more could have gotten killed. That’s what I see. That’s what the intel tells me. That’s all I need to know.”

  He understood Raveis’s need for absolutes.

  But he also understood the danger in that thinking.

  It was what got his father killed, and Tom wasn’t his father.

  He’d never let himself be so consumed by vengeance that he’d abandon those who needed him.

  “I need your word that you won’t in
terfere,” Raveis said. “I can’t do what needs to be done if I have to worry about you getting caught in the cross fire.”

  “Do what you have to do,” Tom said.

  “And we’ll have no problem, you and I?”

  “This is your business. It doesn’t have anything to do with me. Whatever you do, whatever you have to do, we won’t have a problem.” Tom looked at the Colonel. “Sorry you came all the way out here for nothing, sir.”

  “It wasn’t a wasted trip,” the Colonel said. “It’s always good to see you, son. And we have some things for you.”

  “What things?”

  “You and I had a deal,” Raveis said. “And a promise is a promise.”

  Forty-Seven

  Tom waited for sunset, then slipped out of the house and walked to the water’s edge, where he tossed the pieces of Carrington’s disassembled cell phone into the harbor.

  Severing contact in this manner wasn’t enough, though.

  Carrington could already know that Tom was here.

  And with Tom were the others.

  There was no staying now.

  More than that, there was no keeping this family together.

  The only thing that would keep them all safe was to scatter.

  Returning to the house, Tom quietly told Stella that, and together they asked Cahill to walk with them and broke the news to him.

  Tom told his friend everything, including the fact that he had lied to the Colonel and Raveis about not being able to contact Carrington.

  “I’m hoping that if things go bad for me someday, I’ll look over and see you sitting right there in the jury box,” Cahill said. He paused. “Maybe I would have done the same thing, Tom. Anyway, no reason for me to tell them otherwise. The phone’s destroyed. What’s done is done.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’ll close up the compound for a while,” Cahill said. “It’s the safe thing to do. My parents can go live in our place in the city. Or maybe I’ll send them on a tour of Europe or Asia until all this plays out.”

  “Please apologize to them for me.”

  “They’ll understand. They know the risks they’re taking. The risks we’re all taking. They’re proud to play the part they play.” Cahill smiled. “And a long trip is no hardship.”

  “What about the others? What about Valena?”

  “We’ve pulled some strings, my father and I. As distinguished alumni. She’s enrolled in Taft starting next fall, if she wants that. Full scholarship. We’ll pay for college, too, when the time comes.”

  “How could any of that be safe? Not just for her but for the other students and the staff?”

  “We’ve provided her with a new identity. It’s hers if she wants it. And anyway, fall is a long way off.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “Krista apparently has an adoptive father I knew nothing about. A guy named MacManus. She and Grunn are going to stay with him for a while. They offered to take Valena with them. Krista thinks it would be a good place for her. Someplace she can call home. She needs that, don’t you agree?”

  Tom nodded. “And you?”

  “There’s work still to do. The ground beneath the Benefactor’s feet is shrinking. My guess is that will only make him more dangerous. And Sandy needs me.” Cahill looked at Stella, then back at Tom. “How soon will you two want to leave?”

  “Before dawn.”

  “Okay. Same route as last time?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll take you to the train station on the mainland.”

  “You don’t have to do that. We can make our own way.”

  “I know you can. But I want to. The first train is at five thirty. I’ll come for you guys at four.”

  Tom nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t say anything to anyone right away. Let them all have one last night together before the real world comes crashing back in.”

  “I’ll tell them in the morning. All of us can leave together.” Cahill smiled. “It’ll be like the Exodus. And I’ll be Moses.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You guys should come inside. Everyone’s just sitting down to dinner.”

  Tom glanced at his watch.

  Stella saw him do that.

  “We’ll be right in,” he said.

  Cahill left. Tom and Stella watched him approach the well-lit house.

  Once Cahill was inside, Stella said to Tom, “We’re not waiting for dawn to leave, are we?”

  The last train to New York City departed East Hampton at 11:30 p.m.

  Tom had slipped out after dinner and secured the rowboat they’d use to get from the island to the mainland.

  When he rejoined everyone, no one seemed the wiser.

  He and Stella had already packed their few possessions.

  Among the items the Colonel and Raveis had provided them were new driver’s licenses, social security cards, and passports.

  Also included were pistol permits for a variety of states—those in New England that required permits, as well as New York and New Jersey.

  There were also nonresident permits from Florida and Utah, both of which had reciprocity in dozens of other states.

  This combination of permits would allow them to legally carry in forty-one of the fifty states.

  It mattered to Tom that he broke no laws, and the Colonel and Raveis knew this.

  Breaking such laws would make Tom no better than those he’d been required to fight.

  As well as those he wanted to avoid having to fight.

  And yet never for a second did he think he could again wander unarmed, even if he wanted to. Those days were over, never to return.

  The pieces of documentation fit into the pockets of their jackets, as did the $5,000 in cash that Carrington had given Tom, so all that remained were the firearms and ammo they’d been gifted.

  A Kimber K6s for Stella.

  A six-shot .357 Magnum with a two-inch barrel, it was lightweight and hammerless, making it a revolver that was powerful yet concealable.

  Tom’s weapon was a Heckler & Koch compact .45, along with a mix of eight-round and ten-round magazines, all fully loaded with high-velocity hollow points.

  Even for an all-steel-government-model-1911 man like Tom, the polymer-framed HK45c was an acceptable replacement.

  Accurate and durable, it was also more concealable than Tom’s preferred Colt.

  These items went into a plastic shopping bag, which Tom hid in a cupboard by the back door just before dinner.

  Their plan was to excuse themselves at ten, as they always did, under the pretense of going to bed, only to instead grab their belongings and slip away.

  But at nine thirty Cahill was informed that a call had come in for him on the secured landline. When he left to take it, Tom saw their chance.

  He told the others that he and Stella were calling it a day, said as they stood to leave, a quick good night to those he’d come to call his own.

  Krista and Grunn, Valena and Sandy Montrose.

  His four sisters-in-arms.

  He realized that he couldn’t leave without shaking the hands of each one of them.

  It was the same for Stella.

  As he went from one to the other, Tom did his best to pretend that this was just another night and not their last.

  Not an easy thing, which was odd for him, but he managed to pull it off.

  Finally, he and Stella left the room, and instead of heading upstairs, they grabbed their bag of items and left through the back door, making their way through the darkness to the rowboat waiting at the small dock behind the house.

  Stella was onboard and Tom had released the mooring line. He was about to step aboard himself and push off when someone appeared behind him.

  It was Stella’s look of recognition and surprise that alerted Tom.

  Turning, he stood square with Cahill, seeing on his face an expression he’d never seen on the man before.

  Tom knew something was wrong—something more than his and Stella’
s attempt at slipping away without saying goodbye.

  Tom asked him what was going on.

  Cahill took a step toward the dock, then stopped short. “That was the Colonel on the phone,” he said.

  “What’s happened?”

  Cahill glanced at Stella, then said to Tom, “Listen, we should go back inside. We’ll talk there.”

  “What’s going on, Charlie?”

  As he had done in the basement of Krista’s church, Cahill searched for the right words.

  But the look on his face was even graver than it had been then.

  Tom’s gut tightened, and a wave of impatience ran through him. “What, Charlie?”

  “The woman they found buried behind that hangar, the woman that had been executed, it turns out she was the Algerian’s courier. The encrypted flash drive she had—this morning, the Colonel’s hackers got into it. It contained a single document. One long document. And in it were the names of everyone the Algerian had killed, along with the identity—sometimes just physical descriptions—of whoever had hired him. Most of his early hits were in Europe, but the first hit in the United States—the first hit he did for the Benefactor—it was . . .”

  Cahill stopped short.

  He looked again at Stella, as if for help.

  Of course, she had none to offer.

  “It was what?” Tom said.

  “Gateno . . . he killed them.”

  “Killed who?”

  “He was one of the four men who came to your house that night, Tom. He was the one who killed your mother and sister. He used that same Walther. The ballistics match.”

  It took Tom a moment to even begin to process this.

  He had looked upon the last face his sister and mother had seen, and he had done so without even knowing it.

  He had stood inches from the man whose shadow had been cast over his entire adult life—a shadow that was even longer than the Colonel’s—but he had done nothing.

  Up till now Tom believed that he had no desire for revenge, that he was in that way unlike his father, and yet had he known what the Algerian had done, what risks might he have taken just so he could reach out and kill him with his bare hands?

  This revelation gave rise to another question, but it was one Tom almost couldn’t ask.