State of Conspiracy (Titus Black Thriller series Book 8)

by R. J. Patterson

  “May I help you?” the blonde woman asked.

  Jana nodded. “I hope so. I’m a personal assistant and my boss believes she left her phone in one of the lockers yesterday and has asked me to retrieve it.”

  “Unless you’re a member here, I’m not authorized to take you back there, even if it is for your boss.”

  “Perhaps I can take a tour?” Jana said, forcing a thin smile.

  “If you’re interested in joining, you should’ve said so.”

  The blonde grabbed a clipboard off her desk along with an access badge before walking toward the secured door. She held it open and gestured for Jana to continue. Once they were inside, the blonde glanced around before speaking in a hushed tone.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “I understand your predicament, but it’s protocol and they’re always watching here.”

  The woman’s eyes cut up toward a security camera affixed to the wall.

  “Apparently, we have a handful of high-profile clients who demand that we adhere to strict security measures. Have a look around when we get inside the locker room and take all the time you need. I don’t want anyone chewing me out for not doing my job—and I’m sure you don’t either.”

  “Thanks,” Jana whispered.

  Jana followed the woman, weaving around benches and dodging women shuffling between the shower and their lockers. Jana fished her phone out of her pocket and started dialing a number.

  “What are you doing?” a woman said, snatching Jana’s phone. “Didn’t you see the sign? ‘No cell phones allowed’. Amber, would you please do something about this?”

  The blonde turned toward the angry woman. “Karen, I’m sorry about that. She’s on a tour and likely didn’t see the phone policy. But I believe she’s familiar with it now, okay? Thank you for helping ensure that everyone adheres to the rules.”

  Jana scowled at the woman, staring her down while scrolling for Shields’ number. When Jana found it, she glanced at the phone, tapped the button, and listened.

  In the far corner, a faint but familiar ring emanated from one of the lockers.

  “Can I look at these lockers again, Amber?” Jana asked.

  “Certainly. Be my guest.”

  Jana wandered across the room and found the locker where the noise was coming from. A combination lock was affixed through a hole in the latch, preventing anyone from getting inside.

  She took a deep breath and thought about what possible combination Shields could use. Nothing came to her right away. The possibilities seemed infinite, even though they were far from it. But she couldn’t stand there all day trying to figure it out. After a few seconds of trying some obvious numbers, she returned to her tour host.

  “Any luck?” Amber asked.

  Jana shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But I know her phone is there. Perhaps you can open it for me?”

  “Let’s go back up front.”

  Jana followed the woman back to the front, where she grabbed a pair of bolt cutters. When they returned the locker room, Karen glared at them when they returned.

  “What kind of tour is this?” Karen asked. “Phone usage, bolt cutters. What’s next? C4 explosives?”

  “Karen, I’d appreciate it if you’d mind your own business right now. I’m working with a customer.”

  Karen put her hands on her hips. “Do you know who my father is?”

  “Not interested,” Amber said. “Nor is it relevant.”

  “He’s the chairman of the board for this gym,” Karen said. “And I’m going to make sure he fires you if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “We’ll be out of your hair in a minute, Karen.”

  “That’s not fast enough,” Karen said, slamming the palm of her hand against the locker door. “I want you gone right now.”

  Jana, growing more irritated by the minute, narrowed her eyes. “You need to sit down. I have business to attend to, and I strongly suggest you don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Amber forced the bolt cutters shut, snapping the metal piece securing the locker in half. “It’s all yours.”

  Jana pulled the phone out from the locker. The screen was still lit up, letting Jana know that the phone that had been ringing was indeed Shields.

  “I take it that’s what you were looking for?” Amber asked.

  “Can I see the security footage from the past twenty-four hours?” Jana asked.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s a bridge too far for me,” Amber said, cocking her head to one side. “What’s this really about? You’re not here on assignment from your boss, are you?”

  Jana leaned on the receptionist’s desk and spoke in a hushed tone. “Look, my boss kind of went on a bender last night. Some crazy things happened. And I’m just trying to piece together everything because she doesn’t remember much and doesn’t know what she did. So, I’m trying to be a little discreet about this, if you know what I mean.”

  Amber pursed her lips. “What do you want to know?”

  “When did she check in here last?” Jana asked as she leaned forward on the desk again, this time for a different reason.

  The woman glanced around before typing on her keyboard. “Yesterday at the same time she checks in just about every day Monday through Friday—noon.”

  “That’s what I needed to know.”

  “Must’ve been one hell of a bender.”

  “Like I said, we’re still trying to piece it all together,” Jana said, tapping on the desk. “Thanks for your help. And good luck with Karen.”

  The woman chuckled and sat back down behind her desk.

  Jana waited until she was outside before calling Blunt to inform him of what she learned.

  “Well?” Blunt asked when answered.

  “I got her stuff,” Jana said. “She checked in yesterday at noon, but not today.”

  “Which means she just left her stuff at the gym, including her phone?”

  “Yeah,” Jana said. “I’m not believing that for one second.”

  “Okay,” Blunt said. “Hustle back to the office. I’ll put someone else on this. In the meantime, we still need to find out what’s going on with Agent Black.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Washington, D.C.

  PRESIDENT YOUNG CRACKED his knuckles as he began to peruse a report on the terrorism summit that Secretary Geller conducted in South Africa. He found it interesting—and more pressing than ever after her team was ambushed in Kinshasa. While he felt a twinge of guilt for not being transparent about the Secret Service members and State Department staffers who were killed in Congo, allowing that report to air would’ve scuttled the summit. But based on what he’d already read, the new coalition being formed as a result of Geller’s efforts in Pretoria would save thousands upon thousands of people.

  He hated assigning value to life like that, but it was part of the job.

  At least their lives can count for something.

  Young didn’t want to think about how they were killed. He glossed over that part of Geller’s report, as skimpy as it was. Based on her sketchy details, he was convinced she wasn’t keen to talk about it either.

  Young’s phone rang and his assistant notified him that Secretary Geller was on the line for him.

  “Rachel, how are you?” he asked.

  “Did you get my report?”

  “Yes, it was great. But how are you doing?”

  “It’s all in there, sir. Quite frankly, it’s not something I want to talk about for a while.”

  Young sighed. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to talk about it. Your staff died and—”

  “I know. It’s just that it’s hard. It’s like Afghanistan all over again for me. It took me years to process everything that happened to me there.”

  “You’ll get the time you need to work through this, I promise.”

  “But when?” she asked, her tone biting. “I’ve got talks with the Chinese next week and then a big conference with several European he
ads of state two weeks after that. This job never ends, you know.”

  “I’m well aware,” Young said. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”

  There was a brief moment of silence.

  “Well, go ahead,” she said. “Tell me, ‘I told you so’ and just get it over with.”

  “I refuse to do that, Rachel. You made a judgment call, which may well set the tone for a partnership to defeat terrorism in Africa for years to come.”

  “But a bunch of people are dead,” she said. “And it’s all my fault. I was stubborn and refused to let it go, just like always.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Young said. “That’s why I hired you—good or bad. And in this case, mixed results. We needed you to go.”

  “But people still died—good people.”

  “And yet this morning in my security briefing, I learned that some information the South African government already shared with us has led us to apprehend one of Africa’s fiercest war lords who was planning an attack on U.S. soil later this year.”

  “It probably would’ve never happened anyway.”

  Young shrugged. “You don’t know that. Look, I can’t assuage the survivor’s guilt you are dealing with right now. But I want you to know that I’ll never use your decision to go against you. It was the right call, even if it was a hard one. And what happened was unfortunate, to say the least. It was the perfect storm of a corrupt country and an opportunistic despot.”

  “That won’t make me sleep any better at night, sir.”

  “I know it won’t. I hate these decisions, too. But there is some solace in the fact that what you did was ultimately part of doing something for the greater good.”

  “I’m sure it is, but that’s not what I want to hear right now,” she said. “I still have to go tell the families of all those people who died what really happened to them. It’s going to be like reliving that moment over and over and over again.”

  “I appreciate all you did, Rachel. We’ll figure this out when you get back.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Young hung up only to get another buzz from his assistant.

  “What is it now?” Young asked.

  “Dave’s here to see you,” she said. “He said it’s urgent.”

  “Send him in.”

  Salisbury thrust the door open seconds later, toting Abe. The Yorkie let out a yap and squirmed until it leaped out of Salisbury’s arms and ran over to Young.

  “At least somebody likes me today,” Young said as he knelt and scratched Abe behind his ears. “Isn’t that right?”

  Abe growled and backed away. Young stood up and returned to his chair.

  “Maybe not,” Young said. “I guess it’s already shaping up to be one of those days. And I imagine you’re only about to pile it on.”

  Salisbury sucked in a breath through his teeth as he took a seat across from Young. “I wish I could break your streak, sir, but that’s not gonna happen this morning.”

  Young cursed and clenched his fists. “What is it this time?”

  “Michelle Ryland,” Salisbury said.

  “Are we talking about the TV reporter again? I thought you handled that.”

  “Well, I did, sir. But she’s back. Apparently, she has more verified footage and has been in contact with the administration today about the whereabouts of several staffers, who haven’t reached out to their loved ones since Secretary Geller’s trip to Africa. And they’re concerned.”

  “I hope you have a solution, Dave.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  “Fire away. I’m all ears.”

  Salisbury scooped up Abe as he started to whine at his master’s feet. “So, you remember that two days from now there’s a big gala at the Kennedy Center to celebrate and honor distinguished citizens?”

  “How could I forget? My wife has been trying on gowns for the event for the past month, making me compare and contrast each one she’s considering wearing.”

  “Good,” Salisbury said. “So, what I was thinking is that you also give a special award to Rachel Geller. It’d be a surprise.”

  “How’s that solve this problem?”

  “We tell Michelle Ryland that she can have an exclusive interview with Geller upon her return that can air after the award ceremony. That way her network will be pleased and then we can spin Geller’s story to be one of heroism instead of a security fail.”

  Young dropped his head, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of nose. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I just spoke with Geller and she’s pretty messed up after that ordeal.”

  “She’ll be fine, sir. She’s resilient. And to be honest, we don’t have much choice unless you want this administration to be branded as complicit in a cover-up.”

  “Pundits are gonna say that anyway,” Young said.

  “Yes, but at least we’ll be able to initiate the narrative that Geller is a hero, and her work in South Africa is going to save countless lives.”

  Young sighed. “Okay. See if you can get Geller to go along with it. But I’m just warning you that it’ll take a miracle.”

  Salisbury smiled. “Of course, sir. That’s my specialty.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Kinshasa, Congo

  THE GUARD STANDING WATCH outside the airport offered a friendly wave before Kazadi rolled down the window in the backseat. He handed a hundred dollar bill to the man before he waved the vehicle through the checkpoint. Black took in the scene from the middle row in the SUV, hands bound together with a zip tie. Not that they needed to restrain him.

  Black had always viewed his lack of immediate family as a strength for his job. Coercing him to do something against his principles, such as betraying his country, was next to impossible since he was a loner. But that all changed when he kissed Shields.

  If he could’ve gone into a lab and created the perfect woman for himself, he was certain that Shields would’ve been the end result. Smart, sassy, adventurous, daring—she checked all the boxes for Black. The fact that she was gorgeous was just a nice bonus, though hardly anyone would’ve noticed that trait. Throwing her hair up in a bun or a ponytail and making no effort with makeup most days kept her from drawing attention to herself. That was a good thing in her line of work. But there had been occasions when she needed to dress up while on a mission, using her looks to manipulate someone to get something they needed. And each time, Black wondered why he hadn’t remembered what a knockout she was. Then there was her southern twang that came out during their conversations, demonstrating just how down to earth she really was.

  When Black saw her on the video call, bound and held captive, he couldn’t bear it. He’d fallen hard for Shields, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Now he couldn’t deny it. Black was preparing to assist terrorists in an attack on the U.S. in order to save her, though he wasn’t convinced they would keep his word. Black needed a plan. He needed a weapon, too.

  The SUV came to a halt as it reached the hangar. The convoy consisted of three vehicles, all containing a pair of armed guards. Not only was everyone armed, but everyone was carrying at least two weapons that Black could see. He wouldn’t have been surprised if most of the men also had a gun concealed beneath their clothing. Any conflict would result in a blood bath.

  Black stepped back and looked at the private jet, which resembled one from the CIA’s fleet, complete with a U.S. tail number.

  “Did you steal this plane?” Black asked.

  Kazadi and Zahid both laughed.

  “Of course not,” Zahid said. “If we stole this plane, they would be able to locate it and find our position. But she looks like a CIA plane, doesn’t she?”

  Black was taken back by Zahid’s candidness. But apparently he was confident that Black was going to do what they wanted him to.

  As Black scanned the area, he noticed the men loading crates into the cargo bay beneath the plane. Another man wearing a captain’s hat walked around the front of the plane, checking it o
ut and making marks on his clipboard as he went.

  Then Black noticed a gun sitting on a table in the corner of the room. As the men grew more and more comfortable, they weren’t watching Black as carefully. Confident that he couldn’t get anywhere with his hands bound while being unarmed, they took a more relaxed approach. Black strolled around the plane as well, locking eyes every few seconds with a guard who was staring at him. The Firestorm agent needed an excuse to get near the table in the far corner.

  To maintain their trust, Black decided to ask one of the guards if he would escort him to the bathroom. Black guessed that the guard couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and seemed more interested in a game on his phone than keeping a watchful eye on the ADF’s prisoner. As they neared the desk, Black cut a quick glance over his shoulder at the man, head down as he walked trance-like a step behind.

  Black palmed the weapon off the desk and slid it into one of the pockets on his pants. He hadn’t taken two more steps before he heard Kazadi shout from across the room at them.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “He needs to relieve himself,” the guard answered, scowling as he looked back at Kazadi.

  “Without any toilet paper?” Kazadi asked. “Tahir, take our guest some toilet paper. That is a premium commodity in these parts.”

  Black forced a smile and nodded as one of the other guards rushed over a roll of toilet paper.

  Kazadi’s eyes remained fixed on Black. “Enjoy.”

  After the guard received the toilet paper, he and Black resumed their trek to the bathroom, now just a few feet away. The phone zombie guard tore off a generous portion for Black before gesturing to the door.

  Once inside, Black sat down and thought for a moment. He situated his gun more securely in one of his pants pockets that hung low off waist. His captors had already patted him down several times and likely wouldn’t feel the need to do it again. And if they found the gun, it wouldn’t be much of a loss.

  He flushed the toilet and waited a beat before opening the door. Zombie guard was still staring at his phone when Black cleared his throat to get the man’s attention.