Sins of the Titanic (A James Acton Thriller, #13)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  And what delights.

  He looked over at her and gave her a thumbs up. Her eyes widened, conveying her happiness, she reaching out and squeezing his hand. He could feel his lungs reaching their limits and pointed up. They kicked toward the surface and Kane gasped for air as he pulled out his mouthpiece, Leiko barely out of breath.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” he said, treading water as he pulled her tightly against him.

  “Practice, practice, practice.”

  Kane laughed. “I thought that was how you got to Carnegie Hall?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I can tell you where it will get you.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on him that not only had his heart thumping hard in his chest, it guaranteed he wouldn’t be walking out of the water any time soon.

  He felt a slight shock on his wrist.

  Shit.

  His CIA issue watch appeared to be like any other watch. And it was. Just with a few custom upgrades, one of which was a discrete messaging system that would give him a slight tingle to tell him a message was waiting. It allowed him to covertly get intel without anyone else in the room knowing, the jolt strong enough to wake him if necessary, and once removed from his wrist, the pulse wouldn’t activate. And should someone else put it on, unless they knew the sequence to press to activate it, it would never signal again.

  He didn’t give Leiko any indication something was wrong, but he had to get a moment of alone time to check the message.

  He broke the kiss.

  “Let’s take this back to the room,” he said, running his hand through her hair, her golden brown skin the softest he had felt in a long time, this gorgeous local having all the right curves for his liking.

  She nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding against him, causing him to moan. “I’ll race you.” She let go, lifting her knees up then pushing off his chest with her feet, diving backward and flipping over, swimming hard for the shore as Kane recovered from the shock, sputtering to clear his pipes from the sucked in water.

  Recovered, he took after her, his swimming skills excellent, but this lovely girl had grown up on the water, and there was no beating her.

  She climbed out of the water first, turning to watch as he reached the shore, stepping out after her. She looked down at his crotch and giggled.

  Damn.

  He pulled off his mask and held it at waist level as she grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the hotel parking lot. There were a few snickers, mostly from young guys who he was sure were secretly envious, Leiko a vision with a brain, her day job a marine biologist. He had to admit he had learned more over the past week about what they were seeing under the water than he had in a lifetime. A learning vacation.

  Never thought I’d enjoy that.

  But if he had teachers half as gorgeous as Leiko in high school, he probably wouldn’t have needed Chris Leroux to tutor him so much.

  His watch shocked him again.

  Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to you.

  They were at the hotel in minutes and he excused himself, locking the bathroom door and relieving himself as he entered the coded sequence, the watch immediately displaying an alert that one of his private messaging servers, one he kept secret even from the CIA, had received an urgent message.

  And there was barely a handful of people who it could be from.

  All of whom were more important to him than a roll in the hay.

  He stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed his cellphone. “I just need to check my messages.”

  Leiko popped her bikini top off.

  Something else popped.

  You’re killing me!

  He pulled up the secure app and logged in with a thumb scan, the message appearing.

  Uh oh.

  It was his old professor, a man he had reestablished contact with only recently, Professor James Acton and his new wife magnets for trouble, he having to get involved on more than a few occasions to help them out. But they were good people, and as he read the message, his chest started to tighten slightly.

  This could be serious.

  And he couldn’t help in person, he leaving for an op in less than 24 hours. But he knew people who could.

  “I’m sorry, beautiful, but I just got an urgent message from work. I have to deal with something, something confidential—you know the insurance business. Can we meet in say an hour, then I’m all yours?”

  Leiko’s pout would be genuinely heartbreaking if it weren’t for the fact she followed it up with a grin. “No problem, sweet cheeks,” she said, picking up her bra then smacking his ass. “I’ll be in my room. Call me when you’re done.”

  He stepped closer, pulling her half-naked body against his. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  She reached down and squeezed. “You bet you will. My vacation ends tomorrow too. I am not going to have my last night ruined by some insurance investigation.”

  Kane kissed her, hard, his free hand gripping the back of her head, pulling it tightly against him as he leaned her back slightly.

  Then he broke it off, leaving her gasping, her eyes wide.

  “Take that to your room,” he said with a wink. “We’ll be down soon.”

  “We?” She looked down and giggled. “Oh, we.” She grinned. “We will be anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

  She put her bikini back on then glided from the room, leaving Kane momentarily distracted.

  She’s incredible.

  He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the image, then dialed.

  Operations Center Charlie

  The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina

  “This is Bravo Zero-One, I need to talk to Control-Actual.”

  Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme jacked in, his eyes narrowed slightly at his best friend’s unexpected call. Dawson’s team was supposed to be off duty, the Secret Service taking control of the op until morning, but Colonel Clancy had ordered a minimal staffing of the Op Center just in case something went wrong.

  Things rarely did, yet no one wanted to be caught with their pants down on an op with an unmanned Op Center.

  “Go ahead, Zero-One, this is Control-Actual.”

  “We’ve got a situation here.”

  “Explain.”

  “Our primary has been kidnapped by at least six hostiles.”

  Red snapped his fingers, everyone suddenly alert. He hit the mute on his mike. “Make your calls, I want us fully staffed immediately.” The two others in the room with him leapt into action as he removed his finger from the mute button. “Any demands?” he asked.

  “Negative, except a note was left behind saying they’d kill him if we told anyone.”

  “Status on the security detail?”

  “All were taken out by what appear to be tranquilizer darts. They were dragged into Mr. Jones’ room then bound and gagged.”

  “Is he the only person missing?”

  “Negative. The person he was meeting with isn’t here either. A Mr. Peter Quaid. He wasn’t on our list to vet so I’ll need you to check him out. He’s apparently the moneyman for the campaign.”

  Red pointed at one of his team who nodded, already running the name. “Local law enforcement?”

  “Negative, we managed to contain the situation for now. Nobody knows he’s missing except us.”

  “What do you need from us?”

  “Tap the surveillance video, try to find out what happened, see if you can trace where they went.”

  “Roger that, we’re on it. I’ll get back to you in fifteen mikes with an update.”

  “Roger that.”

  The call ended and Red picked up the phone. “Time to wake the Colonel.”

  “Sergeant, we’re going to have a problem.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Red, pressing down on the switchhook.

  “DC has this operation wrapped up tight. Everything we do is routed through the Secret Service op center, even when we’re in control. Some new civilian oversight protocol wh
en operating on home soil after what happened during the coup attempt. If we do anything, they’re going to know, and they’re going to want to know why. And if there’s a leak, the hostiles might hear about it.”

  Red pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. They needed to be able to access satellite and hotel footage, and probably traffic cameras. On any other given day it wouldn’t be a problem, but with the op actually being on American soil, the rules were different. He didn’t have a problem with that, it his duty to follow orders, and civilian oversight a good thing.

  But not today, not when that very oversight might get their man killed.

  Then a thought popped in his head and he smiled.

  “Get us our friend at Langley.”

  Chris Leroux and Sherrie White Residence

  Fairfax Towers, Falls Church, Virginia

  “You’re bad.”

  “I know. And you like it.”

  Chris Leroux grinned, eyeing the naked form of his girlfriend as she paraded back and forth in front of the television. Yet she wasn’t completely naked. She was wearing a hat.

  “You like?”

  Leroux nodded emphatically. “Me like.”

  “But you’re not even looking at the hat,” pouted Sherrie.

  “You’ve got a hat on?”

  She pulled it off and whipped it at him like a Frisbee. “You’re so mean to me!”

  He laughed, tossing it back to her, his throw short, it falling on the floor.

  I was never good at Frisbee.

  Or any sport for that matter. Leroux considered himself a geek. An introvert for the most part, women something he only fantasized about until he had met Sherrie. They had fallen in love quickly, shoved together by his best friend, Special Agent Dylan Kane, a high school buddy he had tutored for several years. Kane was the jock, the popular kid, but had struggled in high school. Not because he was stupid, but because he had spent too much time enjoying himself rather than applying himself and had fallen behind.

  Leroux had been on the list of math tutors in the guidance counsellor’s office, Kane picking him for a reason that actually had made Leroux almost cry when it had been confessed to him much later.

  “I knew you had no friends so you wouldn’t have anyone to tell that I was stupid.”

  At that point they had become friends, and it had made it sting even more. Their friendship through high school had thrived, though it was mostly a secret, Kane coming over to get tutored several nights a week, the two rarely doing anything outside. It wasn’t until Kane showed up for his tutoring lesson one night that things changed completely. A particularly nasty bully named Darcy had humiliated Leroux in class, yanking down his pants and boxers in front of the entire English class. In his panic he had tried to run rather than pull them up, causing him to trip over his pants and fall flat on the floor, naked from the ass down.

  The laughing and taunting had been merciless.

  He had struggled to his feet and pulled his pants up, tears running down his face as he shuffled out of the class, running home and locking himself in his room, swearing to never come out again.

  He could hear Kane and his mother talking through the open window but he wasn’t sure what was said. Moments later there was a gentle knock on the door. “Hey buddy, can I come in?”

  “Go away!”

  “Come on, let me in. Tell me what happened.”

  Leroux reluctantly got up and unlocked the door, leaving it closed. He returned to his bed, shoving himself into the corner, his knees drawn up to his chest as he hugged them.

  The door opened and Kane stepped inside, closing it behind him. He grabbed the small office chair from the computer desk and wheeled it to the bed, taking a seat. “Tell me what happened.”

  Leroux said nothing, instead burying his head deeper behind his knees.

  “Listen buddy, I’m your friend. Tell me so I can help you.”

  Leroux felt a desperate rage grow inside him, finally erupting with a horrible tirade against his one and only friend. “It’s people like you who are always picking on me! You jocks think you’re so cool, you think you can pick on people like me and it’s funny. Well it’s not! We have feelings too, you know! Just because we’re not popular doesn’t mean you get to pick on us all the time. I hate all you jocks! I hate you!”

  He had immediately regretted those last few words, the hurt look on Kane’s face causing him to nearly vomit. Kane had never made fun of him, never picked on him, even before they had met. In fact, though Kane was a jock, one of the most popular kids in school, he was nice to everyone, including the dorks, geeks, nerds and spazzes.

  “I’m sorry, Dylan, I didn’t mean it.”

  Kane had smiled at him, covering up his hurt quickly. “I know you didn’t, buddy. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  He did and the rage he saw in his friend was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He rose from his chair, cursing Darcy, swearing he’d get even with him.

  And he did.

  The next day before school started Leroux arrived to find Darcy duct taped to the flagpole, naked, one of the teachers trying desperately to free him as the entire student body looked on, laughing, Darcy himself in tears.

  Darcy had switched schools, and Kane made it crystal clear to everyone that messing with Leroux meant messing with him.

  Leroux was never touched again. It didn’t mean he suddenly had friends, it simply meant he was no longer terrified of school.

  They had drifted apart after high school, Kane ahead of him by a couple of years. Kane went to college then joined the Army after 9/11, Leroux going to college as well then recruited into the CIA as an analyst. He didn’t know that Kane had been recruited out of the Delta Force and was essentially a spy for the CIA until a chance encounter in the cafeteria. Their friendship had been renewed, though with Kane’s lifestyle, it meant they rarely saw each other.

  But now Sherrie filled the void that had always been there. She was gorgeous, way out of his league, yet she had fallen for him while on assignment. Assignment to test his loyalty to the CIA, to test his ability to keep his mouth shut about the things he knew when faced with the greatest temptation possible.

  Her.

  And he had passed.

  She had asked to be reassigned before the ultimate test, the feelings she had developed unexpected, but she had been refused. When he had discovered the truth, in a rather embarrassing fashion, he hadn’t wanted to ever see her again.

  But Kane had brought them back together, and the rest was history. They were now living together and their relationship continued to grow, despite the ever-watchful eye of their security detail made necessary by their involvement in foiling an attempt by an ancient organization called The Assembly to start a war with North Korea.

  It had been stopped, yet at great cost, and the end of their private lives.

  It was only when they were alone in the apartment they could be themselves.

  And God did he love it.

  Sherrie turned around, bending over to pick up her hat, her buttocks making the perfect shape of a heart, reminding him of the purported true origin of the heart symbol now known the world over.

  Something stirred, Sherrie looking back at him, still bent over.

  “See something you like, big boy?”

  He grinned sheepishly. “Umm, yeah, Game of Thrones is starting. You’re blocking the screen.”

  She looked at his crotch. “I don’t think you’re one hundred percent committed to the television. She spun around, doing a little dance with the hat covering her most private parts.

  Leroux turned off the TV.

  His phone vibrated.

  He glanced at it, his eyes narrowing. “It’s work.”

  “Awww!”

  Sherrie plopped on the couch beside him as he flicked his finger across the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey boss, priority tasking. We need you.”

  Leroux sighed, recognizing Marc Therrien’s voic
e, a member of his staff working the night shift. “Okay, call in the team, I’m on my way.”

  “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything too important. See you soon.”

  Leroux ended the call, looking down at what Sherrie was gripping.

  No, it wasn’t too important. But gawd it was bad timing.

  “Sorry, hon, but I’ve got to go.”

  She squeezed harder.

  “Hon, you’re just making this harder than it has to be!” he pleaded as he texted the security detail outside.

  “That’s the idea, silly!” He gave her the stink eye and she laughed, letting go. “Okay, but you’re going to be frustrated all night.” She struck a suggestive pose. “Quickie?”

  His pants were off in seconds.

  Acton & Palmer Residence, St. Paul, Maryland

  “Wow, that was fast!”

  Acton pointed at the phone and mouthed, “Dylan”. It hadn’t even been half an hour since he had sent the emergency message to the number Kane had given him, stored in the phone under his reversed initials, KD, or Kraft Dinner. Kane had been an average student when he had taught him, he genuinely interested in archeology, though not sure of what he wanted to do with his life.

  That is until 9/11.

  Then he knew for certain.

  The young man had sought his counsel and he had been happy to give it, he himself former National Guard. He had encouraged the man to follow his heart, it his opinion that a military career was always an excellent choice.

  He had never envisioned him becoming a spy for the CIA however, and had been shocked to learn the truth.

  Yet thankful he had, his help proving invaluable on numerous occasions.

  Including, perhaps, tonight.

  “You caught me between assignments. I read your message and I’m a little concerned. It’s probably nothing, this Captain may be a thief or an opportunist, who knows, but that security alert is what is setting off my alarm bells.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was concerned about as well. Can I put you on speaker? Laura, Greg, Sandra, Mai and Tommy are here. I trust them all.”

  “Go ahead, Doc.”

  Acton placed the call on speaker and put the phone down on the table. “Okay, you’re on speaker. Is there any way to trace who received the alert?”