Lynn Ames - Beyond Instinct

by Lynn Ames

  “You already thanked me, and I don’t want anything from you, Sage. What I did I would’ve done for anyone.” Vaughn was facing the bed, her back to Sage.

  Sage tried not to let the words hurt—tried to tell herself that Vaughn didn’t really mean them. She wanted to believe that the reason Vaughn wouldn’t look at her was because her eyes would betray her true feelings. She wanted to know that Vaughn still wanted her, and that, after this was all over, they might have a chance together, but she knew the timing was wrong for such a discussion.

  Instead, she asked, “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I’m fine. Please don’t worry about me. This is what I do. This is who I am.”

  “What I said about the cleanup crew stuff—”

  “I don’t want to talk about it, Sage. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do and not much time to do it in.”

  “That’s it, then? You won’t let me apologize properly?” Sage spoke in a rush, unable to hold herself back and afraid that at any moment Vaughn would kick her out of the room. “You don’t want to know that I love you, that I ache to make things right? That I’m frantic because I don’t know how to reach you emotionally?”

  Vaughn’s hands hesitated momentarily as she searched for another outfit in the closet. It wasn’t much, but Sage saw it. It gave her hope.

  “Justine will take good care of you. You’re as safe with her as you would be with me. I know it’s going to be hard for you to be alone for a while, but that will fade in time. You should see a psychologist for post-traumatic stress disorder when this is over.” Vaughn put the outfit on the bed without turning around to face Sage.

  “If it’s any consolation,” she continued, “the bad guys are far more interested in me right now than they are in you. I pose a bigger threat. I don’t think anyone will be actively looking for you, but we need to take precautions. Listen to Justine, and do everything she tells you to do. Don’t question her. She’s very good at what she does.”

  Finally, Vaughn turned to face her. “Justine is a healer. She only kills in self-defense. She’s never been part of any cleanup crew, and she’s a fine, upright person. You’re in the best possible hands.”

  Sage nodded. Tears were streaming down her face, and she covered her mouth loosely with a trembling hand. “I was in good hands with you.” She grabbed a tissue from the dresser. “Will I ever see you again?”

  Vaughn ignored the question. “I’ve got work to do, Sage. Stay safe and find your joy. You’re a beautiful woman with your whole life in front of you. I hope you find everything you’re looking for.”

  Sage wanted to move forward—to throw herself into Vaughn’s arms and be held. Before she could do anything, Vaughn walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Sage thought she heard a muffled cry of anguish through the wooden barrier, but it might’ve been wishful thinking. She turned slowly and went back to the spare bedroom, where she threw herself on the bed and cried in earnest.

  The announcement from the flight crew that they would soon be landing jarred Vaughn awake. She’d been traveling twenty-four hours straight, and despite having taken several short naps, she was beyond exhaustion. Normally, that would’ve been a bad thing, but in this case it helped with the image she was seeking to project. Anyone looking at her would see a dowdy older woman with gray hair, wrinkles, a bulging belly, sagging breasts, and failing eyesight. When she emerged from the bedroom at Sabastien’s house, not even Justine recognized her.

  Vaughn checked her watch and thought about Sage and Justine. By now they should’ve reached their destination and gotten settled in. She and Justine agreed that they would make contact only when absolutely necessary. She hoped they were sleeping peacefully and that their trip had been uneventful.

  Vaughn wanted to know that Sage was okay, that she was safe, and that…Shit. Stop it. You can’t do this now. It’s all about focus. Stay focused. Eyes on the prize. She fumbled with her seatbelt the way old people do when their hands aren’t as dexterous as they once were. The liver spots she’d created on the backs of her hands with the magic of makeup helped to reinforce her disguise.

  She made sure to exit the plane in the middle of a pack of passengers and moved slowly, taking halting steps. Her face was a mask of confusion as she looked around for the party that was supposed to meet her at the gate.

  “Madame Barrett?”

  “Oui, c’est moi.” Vaughn’s voice was thin and reedy, as befitted her age.

  “On behalf of the citizens of Mauritania, I want to thank you for your generosity. This hospital will be a godsend. Come this way, please.”

  “Yes, yes of course.” Vaughn allowed Nate’s wife to take her by the elbow and lead her to the baggage claim area.

  When they were alone in the car, Vaughn said, “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you and Nate for all your assistance.”

  “I am just glad I was able to figure out who you were. Nate said you might be dressed somewhat differently, but I never expected such a drastic change from the way he described you.”

  “How did you know which one was me?”

  “Your eyes. They were far too alert for someone as elderly as you appeared to be.”

  “Then I’m fortunate that no one else was paying as close attention as you.”

  “The airport exits were being watched, and I noticed several new employees at ticket counters and in baggage claim. Also, there was someone at the gate.”

  “I saw that one,” Vaughn said. She regarded Nate’s wife critically. She was young—no older than twenty-five—and very pretty. Obviously, she had other attributes, as well. “You’re very perceptive.”

  “I am the wife of the most important law enforcement official in this country. I have to be observant. Here, we cannot afford to take our safety for granted. If there were a coup, we would be among the first the opposition would seek to capture.”

  “I see. I’m sorry you have to be so vigilant.”

  “It is something I accepted when I married my husband.”

  Nate’s wife turned into an alley. Vaughn thought she recognized where they were. Before she could ask, Nate emerged from the back of the building.

  “Madame Barrett, it is such a pleasure to see you.”

  “And you, Nate.”

  “Please, come in. I thought you would appreciate some familiar surroundings.”

  “Yes, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”

  Once they were inside the clinic, Nate said. “You are safe in here. We are alone and will be for the length of your stay. I thought you might prefer to be able to be yourself, so I sent the staff home.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “Your trip was without incident?”

  “Mercifully, yes. How are things here?”

  “Everything is in place. But there are some developments that might interest you.”

  Vaughn nodded. “Let me get changed and we can talk.”

  Sage awoke to the sound of her own scream. Sweat drenched her T-shirt and the sheets.

  “Sage? Sage, are you all right?” Justine called through the door.

  “I’m fine. It was just a nightmare. Sorry.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “No, thank you. I’m going to go back to sleep.”

  “Okay. If you change your mind, I’m right down the hall.”

  “Thank you.” Sage threw off the covers and sat up against the headboard. She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. She wondered how long it would be before she could sleep through an entire night without waking in terror.

  The only true rest she’d gotten was when she had slept in Vaughn’s arms. She sighed. Vaughn would be on the other side of the world by now, and the chances of ever seeing her again seemed too remote to consider.

  Sage tried to imagine what Vaughn might be doing. Had she arrived safely? Was she sleeping? Had the trip been too taxing for her lung? This is crazy. She’s not sitting around worrying about you. Go t
o sleep. Sage scooted back down and pulled the covers up to her neck. Although she closed her eyes, sleep was a long time coming.

  Fairhaven and Pordras shared a bottle of port in the living room of Fairhaven’s townhouse.

  “The majority leader will meet with the president and prime minister at the presidential palace five hours from now.” Fairhaven paused to sip his drink. “Following the meeting, there will be a procession down one of Nouakchott’s main streets. The route will lead to several historic sites. Unfortunately for the majority leader, she’ll never arrive at her destination.”

  “Any sign of trouble?”

  Fairhaven debated whether to tell his friend that Elliott and company supposedly had been on a plane to New York that had landed several hours ago. He’d had the plane searched, but there’d been no sign of any of them. He seriously doubted they’d ever been on the flight.

  “No sign of trouble. My men have been staking out the airport, the police headquarters, the police chief’s house, and the palace. Neither Elliott nor Coulter are anywhere to be found.”

  “Any word from your man? Maybe he took them out?”

  “We have to assume he was lost,” Fairhaven said.

  “But maybe he killed them before dying of his injuries?”

  “Possibly, but we have to go on the assumption that they are both still in play, and that they know what the plan is.”

  “You’re sure this will work?”

  Rather than answer directly, Fairhaven said, “Drink up, Bri. You should go home and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

  “Hello?” Justine answered her cell phone and fumbled for the light in the bedroom of her sister-in-law’s weekend retreat twenty miles outside of Washington, D.C.

  “Pordras is leaving Fairhaven’s townhouse.”

  “Okay. You’re going to stay with Fairhaven?”

  “Yep. I’ve got someone tailing Pordras. He’ll stay with Pordras wherever he lands next.”

  “Good. I can’t tell you what your help means to me,” Justine told her brother. They’d been nearly inseparable as kids. She was eighteen months older, and when she’d gone into law enforcement, he had followed in her footsteps, entering the FBI academy at Quantico, Virginia.

  “Hey, if these two are dirty, we’re going to take them down like a ton of bricks.”

  “You’re keeping this quiet, right, Paul?”

  “Yes, sis. Nothing’s going to go bad. I promise you.”

  “I know. It’s just—”

  “I get it. I get it, all right? Go back to sleep. I’ve got your ass covered out here.”

  “Thanks, Pee Wee.”

  “Call me that again and I might change my mind. G’night, sis.”

  Justine closed the phone and turned off the light. Paul and his partner would take care of the surveillance so that she wouldn’t have to risk being made, and she could stay with Sage. Although the plan made ultimate sense, she resisted vociferously when Paul suggested it. The thing that made her agree in the end was the look of relief on Sage’s face when Justine said she’d be the one to stay with her.

  Poor kid. Vaughn hadn’t even looked at Sage when she left the farmhouse in Brussels. A blind person could’ve seen the pain in Sage’s features. She didn’t utter more than two words at a time from that moment until they arrived in the States. She went to her assigned bedroom as soon as she could and hadn’t come out since.

  Justine closed her eyes. She wondered if Vaughn was in any better shape than Sage was. She doubted it.

  “I have feelers out all over town,” Nate said. “It seems some of the usual suspects were approached, but all of them turned down the assignment.”

  “You believe them?” Vaughn asked. They were sitting in the kitchen of the clinic, eating a small meal. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.

  “Yes. Our interview techniques can be very…persuasive.”

  “I had my guy run a check on that pool reporter after our phone conversation. He’s definitely a plant.”

  “So you think he is the one who will carry out the assignment?” Nate asked.

  “I doubt it. It’s too obvious and too easily traced. My guess is that his job is surveillance. Unless, of course, he catches sight of me, in which case he has orders to shoot to kill.”

  “What is the alternative scenario for the assassination?”

  Vaughn drummed her fingers on the table as she contemplated the possibilities. “I tend to think Fairhaven was trying to replicate the setup he had in Mali. He wants it to take place in the middle of a crowd. If the locals said no, he most likely would plant a couple of mechanics in the crowd who look like locals.”

  “I am sorry. Mechanics?”

  “Assassins.”

  “Ah. Yes, that might work.”

  “In which case, they could be anybody.”

  “True. As much as I would like to tell you I could pick out any individual in a crowd as not being Mauritanian, I cannot.”

  “Given that, I don’t think we can risk letting the majority leader go through with the procession.” Vaughn considered and discarded ten options in her mind before she next spoke. “Is there a way you can get the majority leader and me out of the palace, on a plane, and safely off to Brussels without creating a national incident?” Vaughn suspected Stowe might want to continue on to her stop in Mali, but, with Dumont still sitting as ambassador, Vaughn wouldn’t let her risk it.

  Nate whistled tunelessly. “What you ask will not be easy, but I think I can make it happen.”

  “How?” Vaughn sat forward in her chair.

  “The president and prime minister trust me on matters of security. I could go to them once you are safely in place. I will tell them that there has been a credible threat to our esteemed visitor, and that it is my best judgment that we should get her out of the country immediately following her meeting with them.”

  “What about the pool reporter?”

  “I will have him detained as he waits outside the president’s office. He will not be a factor.” Nate continued, “We can take you both out through the president’s exit underneath the palace. You’ll be in the president’s bullet-proof car, escorted by a platoon of my own hand-picked men.”

  Vaughn nodded. “Okay. I don’t think it’s necessary for your leaders to know all the details of the plot.”

  “I understand the delicacy of the politics. But I will have to tell them enough to convince them that the threat is real.”

  “Bring in one of your original local suspects,” Vaughn said. “Have him explain how he was approached and what he was asked to do.”

  “I am not sure they will want to talk.”

  “Explain that if they don’t, they’ll rot in jail.”

  Nate chuckled. “Yes, that might work. In fact, I will bring in several just to make sure the president understands the seriousness of the situation.”

  Vaughn looked at her watch. “We should get going.”

  “Yes, it is time.”

  “You have janitors in the palace? People who clean the restrooms?”

  “Of course.”

  “I will need to look like one of them so that my being in the bathroom for so long does not look suspicious.”

  “You will not need to do that. The bathroom will be locked until the majority leader is ready to use it—a routine security precaution, of course.”

  “I will still need to get into the building, so I’ll wear a disguise on the way in and change back once you’ve locked me in.”

  “Okay.”

  “Who will have access to the floor?”

  “I will have two of my best men posted outside the door and another plainclothesman patrolling the hallway.”

  “Very good.” Vaughn rose from her chair. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

  “Indeed, we shall.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Vaughn wheeled a cart full of cleaning supplies slowly down the corridor. She was wearing a set of
coveralls with rags in the pockets. The disguise was only a precaution. Nate had assured her there wasn’t another person on the floor. He would put the guards in place after she was already inside. Even they would know nothing of her presence or her purpose until the majority leader was safely inside the bathroom.

  When she was halfway down the hall, Nate rejoined her. He personally had made a sweep of the floors directly above and below. “Everything is ready,” he said. “Do you have all the…cleaning supplies…you need?”

  “Yes, thanks.” Vaughn patted the plastic garbage bag attached to the cart. It contained a small duffle, an M-16 rifle, and two Kevlar vests. Hidden inside her duster were a Glock-40, ammunition, and her cell phone.

  “I had the lock for the restroom changed while we were on the way over here. There are three keys, and it can be unlocked from either side. You will have one key, I will have one, and my roving plainclothes officer will have the other.”

  “You’ll accompany the majority leader as she leaves the president’s office and heads down here?” Vaughn asked.

  “Yes. I will be with my officers every step of the way until you are in the air.” Nate stopped walking. “Here we are.”

  Vaughn checked the corridor in both directions out of habit. There were no windows and only one staircase. “The staircase will be covered?”

  “Yes. From below and above.”

  “Well, this is it, then.”

  “Here is your key. Everything will be fine. Two of my men are out rounding up some of the usual suspects right now.”

  “I’ll see you in a little while,” Vaughn said and pushed the cart ahead of her into the bathroom. Once inside, she locked the door and checked every stall. There were no exterior windows, a fact that would make her job easier.

  When she was satisfied that everything was as secure as it could be, she pulled out her cell phone.

  “Oui?”

  “Sabastien?”

  “Bonjour, Elliott. Are you enjoying your vacation?”

  “So far it’s been very scenic. Everybody else get off all right?”