Sanctuary Breached WITSEC Town Series Book 3

by Lisa Phillips

  Ben said, “Patched up. He’s recuperating, which means he’s in bed with a laptop running down leads trying to find out where Tommy and Remy disappeared to.”

  Sam nodded, turned to the room, and stopped dead. Beth pulled back from a tight hug with the director. Were they really that close? Sam wasn’t sure he liked Beth seeking solace from someone other than him.

  He folded his arms. “Grant.”

  The man’s lips twitched, and he crossed the room. “Good to see you. Sorry about the circumstances.”

  Beth settled herself in a chair. Why had she even come? He got that she was worried about her cousin, but given how they’d left things between them he hadn’t thought she would even want to be here. Did she think she could help?

  Sam wanted to sit by her, but figured she’d scoot her chair away from him so she didn’t even have to be within smelling distance.

  Shadrach took them all in then said, “Anything new?”

  Grant held his hand out. “Gunnery Sergeant Carleigh?” Shadrach nodded and took his hand, somewhat reluctantly. Grant said, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Shadrach didn’t say anything. Beth got up, wrapped her arm in his and looked up at him. “Ben will get her back. I know you’re worried, but she’ll be okay.”

  Sam glanced at the other Mason brother. “You know where Remy is?”

  Ben shook his head. “Not yet. But there’s something I need to show you.”

  Grant held out his arm. “Beth, if you’ll come with me. We need to discuss something.”

  Whatever it was, it had to be bad. Was Grant going to tell her that her mother was alive? Now? Sam rose from his seat. “Honey—”

  She strode past him, out of the room.

  Shadrach’s lips twitched. Sam glared until Shad laughed outright. Then he said, “I would think you’d be too worried about your girl and your sister to be laughing at a time like this.” Sam brushed past him and sat. “Let’s do this. Then we can go secure the compound, and I can explain—again—to Tommy, the consequences for what he’s done.”

  “Sure,” Shad quipped. “So long as you don’t get arrested in the process. You are a fugitive.”

  “Yeah, but I’m also dead.”

  Ben shrugged and sat at the table. “Who isn’t?”

  Shadrach and Sam shared a look.

  Ben tapped and swiped at the iPad on the table. The screen flickered, but only audio came on. “I’ll skip the…preliminaries and get to the good part.”

  A man grunted. The sound through the speakers wasn’t good. It crackled and scratched like a recording device in someone’s pocket. “Give me his name.”

  Quiet, broken only by rustling.

  “His name.”

  A keening cry erupted.

  “Who is the real chairman?”

  “What does it matter? I’m dead anyway.”

  “Tell me.”

  Quiet.

  “Tell me.”

  Quiet.

  A keening cry. It increased in volume until the man said, “Okay. Okay.”

  There was a pause and then, “It’s President Gunderson.”

  Ben paused the recording. He looked at Shad, already shaking his head.

  Sam shot from his chair. “He’s behind all of this? Thomas’ friend, his colleague for years is responsible for his death, and for the attacks on Sanctuary?”

  Ben nodded.

  “He wants the compound? He’s the person who hired Tommy?”

  “It was done through an intermediary. The man I spoke with.”

  “You mean tortured.” Sam was past the point of being willing to sugar coat any of this. He was glad Beth wasn’t in here to hear how her godfather was behind it. God, she’s going to be crushed when she finds out. Knowing her mom was alive would soften the blow, but she would still feel it. Beth felt everything, though she never admitted as much to the world.

  Was this really true?

  He hung his head. When he’d left her in the basement at the ranch house, she must have seen it as his voluntarily walking away from her. Not their usual parting, where he went on a mission, or back to base, and they exchanged rings. He’d simply dumped her and walked off.

  God, why am I such an idiot? Sam could almost hear Pop and his bear-grunting laugh as he wheezed and tried to compose himself. Sam had been so focused on Tommy and what was happening, that he’d forgotten what he should have done. To his credit, he hadn’t been flying out. He’d stayed in town and didn’t think the mission would last that long.

  Their lives had followed a pattern for so long, and he’d broken it. Beth had been thrown, with no idea why he’d acted that way. Now she was reacting. Not so much retaliating but essentially doing to him exactly what he’d done. Although she’d done it right.

  He reached into his pocket to touch her ring between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Let’s finish this.”

  Shadrach lifted his hands and let them fall by his sides. “So we know who the head of the syndicate is. How does that help us find Remy?”

  Sam sat on the edge of the table. “Can Grant get us a meet with the president?”

  “So two dead men can waltz into his office?” Ben’s eyes widened. “You think you’d even get in the door?”

  “Okay. Good point.” Sam blew out a breath. “What do we do, then? How do we find out where Tommy has taken her? It’s not like President Gunderson is going to jump in his car to make a meet with Tommy to get the compound. He’s going to send someone else. Like the man you…spoke with.”

  Ben nodded slowly with a gaze like he was puzzling this out a mile-a-minute. “If we want to bring the syndicate down from the top we need evidence.” His fingers tapped on the table for a second. “We need to concentrate on Tommy, Doctor Wilder, and the compound.” He reached over and pulled the phone toward him, hit a series of buttons, and the sound of a ringing phone permeated the room.

  “Brother, I’m in the next room.”

  Ben cracked a smile. “I need to speak with Beth.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Sam glanced at the closed door. Did Beth need him? She must be overwhelmed finding out her mom was alive. Should he go find her?

  The door opened and Grant came in, followed by Beth. She had tears in her eyes, but she looked…happy?

  Sam stood. “Is everything—”

  She cut him off and turned to Ben. “You needed something?”

  Ben motioned for her to sit. Beth chose a seat with her back to him, which Sam didn’t figure was by accident.

  “I need you to call President Gunderson. Ask for a meeting. Some alone time to talk about you coming out of hiding. That kind of thing.” He walked her from there through basically trying to get President Gunderson to incriminate himself.

  “This is not a good idea,” Sam said. “You’re sending her into the lion’s den.”

  No one paid him any mind.

  “Do you think I can get a recording device into the oval office?”

  “Ask him to take you for a walk outside. Explore the gardens. You’ll have people around you, and you should be able to take your phone.” Ben motioned to his brother. “Grant will go with you. I’m not going to lie and say there will be no danger, but we will do our best to minimize it.”

  Sam fisted his hands. From beside him, Shadrach shot him a look.

  “You really think I can do it?”

  Ben nodded.

  “Very well.” She walked out, trailed by Grant.

  Shadrach glanced at him, looking as disbelieving as Beth had sounded. “You really think that’s going to work?”

  Ben shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever been on a mission where someone pulled in their teammate’s wife to get the job done.” Shadrach glanced at Sam, who didn’t return his amused glance.

  If Ben thought this plan would work, he supposed they were going to have to trust him. Sam tapped the table. “Now what? We still don’t know where Tommy took Remy.” />
  Ben scanned the screen on his iPad. “The FAA can’t find the helicopter, but there has been a report made of a chopper exploding in a central Idaho county. Local law enforcement doesn’t know what happened, or if anyone was close when it blew. They got the fire contained and there are no bodies inside.”

  “So where are my sister and that Bolton guy?” Shadrach’s voice was flat.

  Ben said, “I wish I knew.”

  Shadrach blew out a breath. “Tell me why I flew across the country when I could be where the helicopter was?”

  “Because Tommy will bring Remy here,” Sam said. “He has to deliver the compound and Remy, or he won’t get paid.”

  Shad glanced at Sam. “To President Gunderson.”

  Sam nodded. He could barely believe it. Murdering the sitting US President so he could steal the man’s chair and place the syndicate in a position of power. “Even if Beth does this and we bring him down, who’s to say a new head of the syndicate won’t rise in his place?”

  Ben said, “That’s a valid consideration. I have my people on it.”

  The door flung open, and Grant strode in. “Bolton’s on the line. He knows how we can find Remy.”

  Chapter 27

  “I must admit. I was surprised to get your call.”

  Beth halted the forward progress of their leisurely stroll through the Rose Garden at night. “I’m sure you were, Mr. President.”

  He gave her a fatherly smile, but all she wanted to do was slap it from his smug face. “It must be somewhat bittersweet, calling me that. I’m very sorry for your parents’ deaths.”

  No, he wasn’t. But it wasn’t time yet for her to get into that.

  She was exhausted from being on an airplane all day, finding out her mother was still alive, and pretending in front of Sam like her whole life wasn’t in pieces. She’d wanted to rush here, to the White House, as soon as she’d found out that her father’s running-mate was involved, but Grant had made her stop and eat something first. Bless the man. She hardly felt sane. She’d been practically buried alive this morning.

  Maybe she was dreaming, or this was all some bizarre form of PTSD.

  “Are you sure you should be out in the open at a time like this?” He looked around, like there wasn’t a team of secret service agents surrounding them. Like Grant Mason wasn’t standing off to the side.

  The president was in his sixties, his face papery with bushy white eyebrows. She’d thought him so handsome, so gentlemanly. He’d been a confidante when her father had been occupied. To have found out who he really was, and what he had done… Beth wanted to be sick. She wanted to scream, slap him. What would the secret service do with a hysterical woman attacking the president in the Rose Garden? Even if she was the previous president’s daughter, she still didn’t particularly want to find out.

  Grant probably could have brought his own team, making it more obvious she was under marshal protection. Beth didn’t mind, though. She wasn’t worried about her safety here, even if Grant and Ben were right and he was involved in her father’s death.

  Beth steeled herself. If she didn’t know now that her mother was alive she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to do this. Smiling. Pretending everything was fine. None of this was difficult for her. “Director Mason has done a wonderful job of keeping me safe.”

  “Ah, yes. This WITSEC town of his.”

  “It’s a good place, full of good people.” It was only when that woman had come from outside, pretending to be her mother-in-law that the trouble had started. “The time has come for me to be home. To take care of their affairs and begin my life again.”

  Could she do this? Beth stood taller. How many times had she asked herself that very question before opening night? How many times had she stood on a stage and wondered if she would survive the performance?

  That was all this was; probably the most important performance of her entire life.

  When it was finished, she wouldn’t be given flowers. She was surrounded by them now, able to smell their perfume scents. When she was done here, she would get to see her mother.

  “And your husband?” The President looked around, as though Sam was going to simply emerge from the trees and join them. “Will the lieutenant be part of this?”

  “I’m not sure as yet. But I don’t wish to discuss Samuel.” She didn’t even know what was happening there. When he’d completed the “mission” he would resurface, but there would always be another job. He would never be able to settle for the small-time conflicts of normal life.

  She shot the president a sad smile that was entirely too genuine and glanced up at the windows of the White House. “It must be bittersweet for you, to sit at his desk. To write with his pen.” She looked at him. “You have the power to change the world from that desk. It must be heavy to have that much responsibility. That much supremacy.”

  As she’d guessed, he immediately puffed up. It was like a peacock preening at the zoo. “Well. I suppose. I hadn’t much thought about it, given the transition has been a whirlwind. I’m merely trying to honor your father’s legacy. This office is a gift I do not take for granted.” He took her hand then. “The power to take life. The power to command others to my will.”

  Beth held on to his hand as she turned hers. His forearm came into view, the sleeve of his shirt pulled back enough it revealed the tattoo.

  A calligraphy letter D.

  Beth looked up from it. “I can see then, why you might want my father’s job badly enough that you were willing to order him killed in order to assume his position.”

  The secret service agents shifted to alert. But didn’t move.

  At one time they’d protected her. Then one had tried to kill her—probably in league with the syndicate. She hoped Ben, Grant, and Sam wiped them all out and found a way to dispose of the compound. No one should ever have that much power.

  The power to take a life.

  She straightened. “I’m sure it was mighty tempting to call those boys, the ones you hired to find me. To find my parents. To discover if they knew where the compound was. Then you sent Senior Chief Locan into Sanctuary to abduct Doctor Wilder and steal the compound. Did you know he was planning on blowing up the town—close to two hundred people dead because of one small suitcase of blue liquid?”

  He paled. “Do you expect anyone to believe that ridiculous story? A ‘compound,’ blowing up a town, you say? Did something happen in Sanctuary I’m unaware of?”

  “What’s ridiculous is that none of us saw this coming. That we trusted you. That we believed you, loved you enough we considered you part of our family.” She had one card, and she played it. He didn’t know her mother was alive.

  Beth stepped back. “Because of you, I’m an orphan. Because of you, the father of my baby was nearly killed. Tell me why I shouldn’t go on every news media outlet on TV and online and tell the world what you have done. About the syndicate, about Remy’s father and the compound he intended to use to kill thousands, if not millions, of innocent people. The same compound you want to release into the world. And for what? Because you bought into the syndicate’s philosophy, or because the response to this ‘tragedy’ will make you look good?”

  It was in that moment Beth saw him for exactly what he was. Power hungry, praise-hungry. Desperate for everyone to look at him and see someone out front, not a man who lived in the shadow of someone greater.

  His gaze hardened. “You’re prepared to tell the world this cockamamie story with no evidence and nothing but grief to fuel you. It really is too bad that your parents’ deaths have affected you this way. I’m sure we can find someone to help you. We’ll make sure you get the care you need.”

  He took her elbow, tried to steer her toward the Secret Service agents. “Ms. Myerson needs help.”

  “No!” She tried to pull herself from his grip, but he dragged her to the closest two suited men. She didn’t recognize either one. On the far side of the garden she saw Grant stride toward them.

 
; The first Secret Service agent held up one hand. “Mr. President.” He might as well have said, “Unhand her.”

  Beth kept on trying to get out of his grip. She was going to have bruises on her arm. “You can’t detain me. I have the right to leave.”

  The president rounded on her. “And did you have the right to come here and slander my reputation with your lies?”

  “It was all true!”

  Grant stepped into the huddle. “It was all true.”

  “It was all true.”

  They turned. The youngest of the Secret Service agents went red in the face. “My brother has the same tattoo.” He motioned to the president’s forearm. “I asked him about it. He seemed kind of surprised you would have one. So I got him drunk and asked more questions. He told me what it means. He’s been having some doubts about the plan for a while, thinking about getting out.” The young man swallowed. “I pushed. I’m not proud of it, but I wore him down. My own brother. Drunk. He told me everything. The chairman of the syndicate ordered President Sheraton’s death.”

  Two Secret Service agents pulled the president aside. One glanced back. Grant lifted his chin, and the man returned it.

  “Let’s go.”

  She looked at one, then the other—leading the president away. “What? That’s it?”

  “This part is not up to us. It’s up to the justice department now.”

  And Sam.

  Beth’s first thought was of her husband, as much as it galled her to still be so connected to him. Sam had to find Remy, to secure the compound. She’d done her part.

  Now they were all counting on him.

  **

  Sam braced one arm against the dash as Ben raced the truck down a highway. Shadrach was in the backseat. Sam looked at the tablet screen on his lap and the moving signal they were tracking.

  “We should be right on top of them.” He glanced in front and behind the truck, but didn’t see any other vehicle. The highway was nearly black except for their headlights.