by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“Wonderful and unreal sometimes. I don’t want to let him out of my sight for a second because…I’m afraid I may have dreamed that he’s alive.”
Tom put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close to his chest, whispering something in his wife’s ear. She smiled up at him and then shifted back to her own seat. Tory noticed the Kings still held hands.
“What’s life like now, Tom?”
“I’m still adjusting to being out of prison and having a normal routine again.”
“Will you be going back on active duty?”
Tom glanced at Ellen, then back at Tory. “As soon as I’m cleared by my doctor.”
“Ellen, how do you feel about that?” Tory asked. From her body language Tory knew that Ellen wasn’t too happy to have her husband risking his life again.
“I’m very proud of my husband and his service to his country.”
“We all are. But isn’t there a part of you that wishes he’d stay home?”
“There’s always a part of me that worries for him and for the risks he takes. But he wouldn’t be the man I love if he didn’t take them.” She tipped her head toward Tom. He squeezed her closer to him with his arm, and for a minute Tory felt a pang of longing.
Tory was reminded of Ben. And she knew that deep inside in the vulnerable place that she didn’t want to acknowledge she had, she felt the same way.
“I think we can all understand that. Tom, we didn’t really have a chance to discuss your captivity in our first interview. Would you mind telling me a little about that time?” She’d asked him about it when they’d been trying to get out of Puerto Isla, but not on camera.
“What do you want to know?” Tom asked. He lifted his arm away from Ellen and sat up straighter.
“Were you questioned?”
“I was questioned repeatedly about what I saw on the island.”
His eyes were hard as glass, and all of the love and affection he’d displayed just moments earlier toward his wife were carefully concealed now. She realized she was glimpsing the warrior she’d met on the island. “And how did they react to your answers?”
“They didn’t believe anything I said. Each day they asked the same questions again and again.”
“What questions did they ask?”
“What was I doing there? When did I arrive on the island? Where had I gone? How had I found the camp? Those types of questions.”
She sensed he was ready to end this line of questioning. Especially in front of Ellen. She resolved to finish the interview as quickly as possible. “Who held you captive?”
“The Puerto Isla government, under Diego Santiago.”
“Once he was kicked out of power by Alejandro Del Torro’s rebel group, were you freed?”
“No. I didn’t know of the change in government until I was rescued.”
“By who?”
“Another SEAL team.”
“How?”
“I can’t really say much, but they were able to get me off the island.”
“Ellen, how did you feel when you first learned your husband had come back from the dead?” Tory asked.
Ellen reached for her husband’s hand and held it in both of hers. “I cried. At first I didn’t believe it.”
“When did you finally accept your husband was alive?”
She never took her eyes off of Tory, but Tory noted that Ellen’s hands tightened around her husband’s. “When I held him in my arms.”
“Thank you both for speaking to me.”
“You’re welcome, Tory.”
Tory nodded and then turned to face the camera. The interview was concluded and would run tomorrow night as part of UBC’s weekly newsmagazine, but she needed to wrap up from here. “The Kings will be in Washington, D.C., later this month for a celebratory dinner honoring United States Navy Commander Thomas King. I’m Tory Patton, UBC News, reporting from Little Creek, Virginia.”
They turned off the mikes and Tory turned back to the couple. “Do you mind if Jay shoots some cutaways of your house?”
“No. Not at all. I’ll show him around,” Ellen said.
Jay and Ellen left the room. Tory took off her mike and put her notepad back in her purse. She wanted Tom to relax. She needed some answers from him. Answers to questions she didn’t intend to ask on air. At least not yet.
“Tom, is it possible that your platoon was set up?”
He shrugged and leaned back against the couch. “How?”
“I have a source in the DEA that I asked about the Puerto Isla situation, and he suggested that perhaps someone from the U.S. government was on the island when you were there.”
“It’s possible. As you know, the DEA and FBI are very active in Central America, working to ensure the eradication of the coca leaf.”
“But they aren’t always successful.” Tory knew this from the struggles the U.S. was encountering in many South and Central American nations, including Bolivia.
“No, they aren’t. I’m really not sure.”
“Did you see anything on the satellite photos while you were ordered to wait?” she asked.
“Our satellite equipment blinked out, and we had to wait to put it back to move.”
“I have a theory. Will you tell me if it makes sense to you?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s say that someone from our government was down there meeting secretly with the drug lords and didn’t know your team was coming in.”
“It could be possible, but our orders come from pretty high up. So this shadow government man would have to have been connected but not with the military. And then when we reported that we were moving in, someone would have had to realize we were there.”
“Could that have happened?”
“It’s possible, but why?”
“I’m not sure. Who is the American ambassador to Puerto Isla? He’d know which government officials were present when your team went in.”
“It’s David Addler.”
“Did the prison guards ask you about him and his office?”
“No. Addler, his team and all U.S. personnel were evacuated from Puerto Isla after my team was killed.”
“I’m going to contact Addler.”
“Good luck, Tory. And if you find out anything about the other matter, the clinic break-in, will you keep me advised?”
“Yes. I’m going to pass your number on to the other Cassandras. There are six of us. Josie Lockworth, Darcy Steele, Alex Forsythe—she doesn’t know that her brother, Ben, is anything but a playboy by the way—Samantha St. John and Kayla Ryan.”
“Copy me on the e-mail so I can have their contact information.”
“I will. And if you think of anything else about Puerto Isla, please let me know.”
Jay shot Ellen, Tom and their son, Tyler, sitting at the kitchen table drinking soda and coffee. He also got Tom and Tyler playing video games and Ellen watching them both. Then he shot Tory asking her questions with the camera on her.
Satisfied with all the shots they’d gotten, they packed up to leave. Jay got everything in the rental truck while Tory said goodbye to Tom. She was halfway to the rental vehicle when something whizzed by her head, stirring her chin-length hair.
She dropped to the ground as she realized that it was a bullet and someone was firing at her.
Chapter 13
Tory tucked her body and rolled into the covering brush. Branches caught at her wool coat, and she lost her cashmere scarf. Scanning the area to the west of the house, she tried to find the sniper. But she couldn’t see anything. It was too dark.
Lying as still as possible, she waited about a minute before deciding to chance moving toward the vehicle. Where was Jay? Had he been hit?
She crawled on her belly toward the car, staying in the shadows. She heard the distant sound of an engine starting.
She jumped to her feet and ran to the rental. Jay already had the truck running. She slid into the passenger seat.
“Jesus. Was it my imagin
ation or was someone shooting at us?” Jay said.
“We were definitely being shot at.” Tory took her cell phone from her bag and dialed King’s number. He answered on the first ring.
“Someone just shot at Jay and I as we left your house.”
“Are you in danger?”
“We’re both in the truck and I just heard an engine start. I believe our assailant got away. Should I call the police?”
“Let me take care of that. Be careful, Tory.”
She rang off with Tom. And turned to Jay. He’d reached over the seat and pulled a flask out of his camera bag. He took a deep swig and then offered her the flask.
“No, thanks. Did you hear that engine start? Let’s see if we can find them.”
Jay drove west, in the direction that Tory indicated she’d heard the car start. “The shooter was using a silencer.”
Jay nodded. He gripped the steering wheel firmly with both hands. She wondered if he had the shakes as she did. She was sick and tired of being shot at. It was unnerving to think someone was out there looking for them. The shots were too well placed for Tory to doubt that someone was warning them. But who?
“A bullet nicked the back of the truck when I was stowing the equipment.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah. Pissed, but otherwise fine.”
They caught a brief glance of some taillights before the car turned onto the divided highway and blended with the traffic. Tory’s pulse was racing and her heart hammered inside her head.
“This is getting to be routine,” Tory said. She was ticked off and more than a little worried. The stakes were higher than she’d believed possible. She might have stopped digging if someone hadn’t kept trying to kill her, but now she wouldn’t.
“What is?” Jay asked.
“Getting shot at.” She wondered if Ben ever got used to it. And if he did, what tips could he offer her.
“I had no idea that journalism was so dangerous.”
Tory knew it could be. There were many times when she’d heard of reporters being pulled off cases or, when they refused to give up, killed. “I think Veronica Guerin proved that point.”
“She did. But you’re not investigating a drug ring.”
“I think I am, Jay.” Tory rubbed the back of her neck. The note in her purse might not have been from Shannon. It could have been from the AA.gov woman. In fact, Tory remembered bumping into someone at the airport. Maybe someone had been warning her since she’d been back in the States. “This is the second warning I’ve had in as many days.”
“What was the first one?” he asked, glancing from the road at her. His features were craggy in the low light from the dashboard.
She didn’t want to give Jay too much information. Her gut said that danger was lurking and she didn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to Jay. “There was a note in my purse that said to stop my investigation.”
“So you’ve seen this person?”
“Maybe. I didn’t realize I’d received a warning. And it could have happened at any time.”
“Why do you think the shots were a warning?” Jay asked.
“Because we’re both still alive. That shooter didn’t miss by mistake.”
“How can you be sure?” he asked.
“I can’t be, Jay. But my gut tells me I’m right.”
“Should we file a police report?”
“Tom said he’d take care of that.”
“Where to, boss lady?”
“The airport. I want to get this story back to New York and edit it. Them I’m going to D.C.”
“Do you need a cameraman?” he asked as he maneuvered the truck from the small country highway onto the interstate heading toward the airport.
“I think I’d better go alone. I’ll take the camera purse with me.”
Tory sank back into the seat while Jay drove quietly back to the airport. She still had her courier package to deliver. Dammit, she’d forgotten about that.
“Jay, pull into that convenience store up ahead.”
“We don’t need gas.”
“I need to stop.”
Jay pulled to a stop and Tory got out. She hurried into the store and the rest-room facility, which was one of those big one-person rooms. She called AA.gov.
“This is Tory Patton. I need to speak to Agent M.”
“One moment, Patton.”
She held the line. In the mirror over the bathroom sink she saw her own reflection. She looked tired and rumpled. She detected a faint trace of fear in her eyes and stared hard at herself until the fear was replaced by determination. She brushed the leaves and twigs off her clothing.
“This is Agent M.”
“I’m not going to be able to make my drop in Norfolk.”
“We don’t have you down to deliver anything.”
“I picked up a package at LaGuardia this morning.”
“What’s in it?”
Tory pulled the brown envelope from her purse and opened it.
First your brother, then you. Stop now before someone dies.
Shuddering, Tory almost dropped her phone. “A note. It’s for me.”
“What does it say?”
Tory shook her head. “Nothing important. A warning pertaining to the story I’m working on. Don’t use me as a courier for a while.”
“Why not?”
“I think I’ve been compromised. And I think the organization has been, too. They knew our signals and codes. The drop was conducted in the bathroom and my orders were on AA.gov stationary.”
“Did you destroy the first contact note?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to bring the note you still have to our offices in D.C.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tory left the bathroom more determined to get her story than ever. She knew that she couldn’t take the chance of involving anyone else in her investigation. The more clues she got, the more complicated and dangerous this story became.
Tory arrived in D.C. on Monday morning. She’d filed her follow-up story on Thomas King. She’d also let the Cassandras know that King had taught at Athena. The connection was almost coincidental, but Tory had a feeling that there was more there than she was seeing.
She was tired and cold. So damned cold. Growing up in Florida didn’t acclimatize one to November in the Northeast. She ordered a pot of tea from room service just before lunchtime and went over her notes.
One of the secretaries at the network had worked all day to get Tory an appointment with David Addler, former U.S. ambassador to Puerto Isla. She was scheduled to talk to him at four o’clock this afternoon.
Addler had gone into semiretirement since he’d left Puerto Isla. His term had ended just after King’s platoon had been killed. Since that time Addler had been working as a freelance consultant for ABS, Shannon Conner’s network, giving some perspective on political situations in Central America.
Tory jotted down a few questions for Addler. She really wanted to talk to Paul Terrence, the U.S. drug czar, but so far his office had refused to make an appointment for her. Now that she was in D.C., she had no problem camping out at his home or office until he caved in.
Someone knocked on the door and Tory went to answer it, expecting her tea from room service. But when she checked through the peephole, she saw Ben Forsythe standing there.
She opened the door and stepped back. He entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him.
“Hello, Ben.”
“Tory, what the hell is going on?”
She calmed her rapid heartbeat. She hadn’t been thinking about Ben and lust and the screwed-up mess her personal life was until he’d barged right back into it. “I’m not sure. What are you talking about?”
He gave her a look that she was sure sent young recruits scurrying to do his bidding. “You getting shot at in Virginia.”
“How do you know about that?” She’d talked to Tom twice since then, as well as to the local polic
e. She and Jay had taken the rental vehicle to the police station. So far they had no leads on whoever had shot at them. To be on the safe side, Tom had taken his family on a vacation to Hawaii.
“I know everything.”
“Everything?” she asked with a slight grin. “Bennington Forsythe, playboy, secret agent and now…possessor of the second sight.”
“Don’t try to change the subject. I don’t want you taking chances with your life.”
Why? She wanted to know but wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t need the kind of complications this man could bring to her life. She liked everyone to fit in the nice, neat little corners she assigned them. Her family and the Cassandras fell into an emotional place, her job and courier work into an exciting place. Men always fell into the “nice to have around for a while but not the long haul” place.
“I’m not. I’m following a story. If there’s a risk involved I’m willing to chance it.”
“I’m not.”
“Ben…don’t do this. We agreed—”
“Bullshit. I didn’t agree to anything. And dammit, I’m not asking for anything other than a little caution from you.”
“I’d be happy to comply, but I have no idea what to be cautious about. I’m still connecting the dots.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, watching her with that enigmatic blue gaze of his. No one had ever rushed to her side when she’d been in trouble before. Her dad had always told her to shake it off, her friends all knew she’d pull through and yet here was Ben. She knew she shouldn’t be, but all the same she was touched that he’d come to D.C.
“Tell me what you have so far.”
He didn’t ask; he just naturally took command. But this was her story and she wasn’t surrendering her information easily. Derrick’s injuries were related to the questions he’d asked for her. She didn’t mind risking herself. But putting Ben at risk…she wasn’t prepared to do that.
“I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“I have a high security clearance. If the government trusts me, can’t you?”
