by Scott Blade
Kiley looked at him confused.
“Of course you will. The medal ceremony is this afternoon.”
“Medal?” Widow asked.
Kiley said, “Yes. Don’t you want your medal?”
“What medal?”
“The Secretary of the Navy is driving out. Or already has. He wants to shake the hand of everyone involved and present medals. I don’t know exactly what yours will be, not a medal of honor or nothing. But something you’ll want.”
“I don’t want the medal.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Widow kept smiling. He did not want to seem ungrateful for the gesture. He looked around the room.
Kiley had had quite a career, like the rumors suggested. The walls were littered with pictures of sailors that Widow did not know. Some black and white. Some in color. There were awards and commendations and medals strung out neatly all over the place. Everything was chaotic, yet somehow organized. Which reminded Widow of the aircraft carrier. When the missile broke through the water. When Kiley had a smile on his face.
Then Widow noticed something displayed proudly on the table behind Kiley. Right in the center there was a big, broken old brick. It was polished, but was still worn and timeworn. Underneath it there was a plaque with writing etched in gold.
Widow said, “You love this Navy stuff, don’t you?”
Wiley said, “Of course! Don’t you?”
Widow shook his head.
“I did once. But that was a lifetime ago. Not me anymore, Admiral.”
Kiley said nothing.
Ebert broke the silence and said, “Widow, are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
“No.”
Kiley said, “One more piece of information that you will like.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Eva and her father will get asylum for their contributions to stopping Farmer.”
Widow nodded.
“We offered to send them back, but they begged to stay. It wasn’t up to me, of course. It was up to the State Department. But I’m sure that Ali had something to do with granting their request.”
Widow thought of Eva. He asked, “Where is she?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea. Their names are probably changed by now. They’re being treated as if they’re in witness protection. They’re probably halfway to Oklahoma.”
Widow stayed quiet.
Kiley asked, “Sure you won’t stay for the ceremony?”
“No.”
Widow turned and walked back to the door.
Ebert walked with him.
Widow turned and said, “I should salute you, sir. After all I was a SEAL, once.”
Kiley seemed to like that statement. And Widow stood proud, head high, shoulders back and saluted with his good hand. Ebert saluted as well. And Kiley saluted back.
Widow looked past him at the brick. The inscription read: Berlin Wall, November 9, 1989.
Widow dropped his salute and walked out.
Ebert followed and walked him back to the front of the building and shook hands and said goodbye.
CHAPTER 71
AFTER THE CEREMONY, and the shaking of more hands, and the salutes, and the drinks, and the cigars, there was dinner. And after all that Admiral Kiley was famished. He said his goodbyes to Ebert and Towdex and the Secretary of the Navy and God only knew how many other high-ranking officials. He lost track from all the pats on the back for a job well done.
He got in his car with a smile on his face and drove home.
On the way, he thought about McConnell, his friend. He hated that the man had to die. He hated that his wife had to die. Kiley did not regret the man in black or Farmer.
He deeply regretted that the mission was a failure, really. A war was not ignited. The nuke did not go off. He had already been prepared to see it through. Destroying America’s greatest Naval base would have done the trick. But it did not happen.
It was not all a loss though. There seemed to be a new surge of duty in the Navy now. He was proud of that. He could find another project to start things moving, to reignite honor and fight back into the Navy that he had loved.
He could find some warlord in the Middle East to help or Asia, perhaps.
Kiley pulled up into his driveway and killed the engine in his American-made Ford Taurus. He got out and clicked the button on his keys to lock the vehicle. He walked to his front door and opened it.
He stepped over to the alarm pad to switch off the alarm, like he did every day. Only the pad was not counting down fifty seconds like it usually did. In fact the pad looked totally different today because it was ripped halfway out of the wall. Wires dangled and the plastic cover was in pieces.
He stared at it, dumbfounded.
Then he heard a voice from behind him in the dark in the doorway to his den.
Widow said, “All those people, Admiral.”
Kiley spun around to see Widow standing there with one hand in a sling. And the other down by his side.
“Widow? What are you doing here?”
“You know you almost got away with it.”
“What are you talking about?”
Widow said, “Come on in to the den. I want to chat.”
Kiley walked into the house. The den was where he needed to go. He kept his sidearm in the top drawer of his desk.
He walked past Widow and nodded, politely like some sort of English butler.
Widow walked behind him and sat down in a comfortable armchair across from the desk.
“Take your coat off,” Widow said.
Kiley took off his coat and pulled a huge, leather-backed chair from his desk and sat in it.
He slid his drawer open.
Widow said, “I gotta know. Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You know what.”
“Indulge me.”
“You orchestrated this whole thing. Farmer. Karpov. All of it.”
“How did you know?”
“The brick from the Berlin wall in your office was the point I was sure. It told me that you missed the glory days of war. Or some such nonsense. But the smile on your face when the nuke was fired. That told me first.”
“This country doesn’t appreciate its military,” Kiley said, his tone changed to one full of confidence.
Then he thrust his hand into the drawer and grabbed for his Colt 1911 forty-five, only it was not there. And he looked up, terrified.
It was in Widow’s good hand.
“How many people were going to die?”
“They’re all nothing! They need to know what real war is like! They need to know honor!”
Widow stood up, pointed the 1911 at Kiley.
“Wait! Wait! I’m a patriot! I’ve saved lives!”
“You’re not a patriot! Those men and women out there fighting every day! They are the patriots! You’re a washed-up nobody!”
Then Kiley’s face turned to one of something pathetic. And he started to beg.
“Please, Jack! No one has to know! No one really got hurt! The nuke didn’t even explode! Remember?”
“No one got hurt?”
“Right!”
“What about Karpov’s men? They’re dead!”
Kiley shrugged, said, “So, what? They’re the enemy! They’re Russian!”
Widow shook his head and said, “They aren’t the enemy. You are.”
He squeezed the trigger and watched as the familiar red mist exploded out the hole left in the back of Kiley’s head. Blood and brain sprayed behind him across books on a bookshelf.
Widow saluted Kiley one last time with the 1911 still in hand. Then he walked over to the corpse and spit on it.
He turned and went to the kitchen, left the lights off. He found a dishtowel and grabbed it. Used it to pop on the light above the stove. He found a dishwasher and opened it, tossed the gun on the rack. Then he found soap and loaded the machine and started it on a heavy clean cycle. And left it.
He had touched nothing
but the front doorknob, which he wiped on his way out.
Widow walked down the driveway and out of the subdivision without being seen.
Thirty minutes later he was back on a major interstate, the thumb from his good hand was out.
A semi-truck slowed and pulled over to the side of the road about twenty yards ahead.
Widow jogged to the passenger side and the driver asked, “Where ya headed, guy?”
Eva and her father were not sent to Oklahoma, like Kiley had joked, not that far away. But they had been given new identities and sent to Vermont, which Widow knew because Ali had told him.
Widow said, “Vermont.”
THE GET JACK REACHER SERIES WILL RETURN IN 2017!!!
FIRE WATCH
Book Seven
A Jack Widow Thriller
Scott Blade
Preorder is available now!
Molly DeGorne works as a fire watch on Wolf Mountain in California’s Redwood Country. This is her second summer. At the helicopter that she takes to ride up the mountain to her lookout station, she meets her new coworker and neighbor on the mountain, a stranger who just took the job out of interest. Out of leisure.
He’s a former undercover Navy cop named Jack Widow.
On their helicopter ride up, they notice another helicopter, a military stealth helicopter, flying over the terrain, as if it is searching for something. A strange sight, but one that means nothing on its face.
Widow is stationed more than ten miles away in another fire watch tower, but they can communicate by radio and they can see each other through the binoculars.
It’s the perfect setting: beautiful sunsets, serene springs with clear water, majestic mountain ranges, and the world’s tallest tree systems. Everything seems peaceful, until it’s not.
In a job that is surrounded by one of the most peaceful places on Earth, Jack Widow is about to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The Author
Scott Blade has written six bestselling books, two of which reached the top 100 on Amazon.
He is the creator of the Get Jack Reacher and Jack Widow Series. He really likes the name Jack.
Scott isn't a traditional writer who spends his time stuck behind a computer in a dreary office. He is almost always traveling around the world, looking for Starbucks.
Currently, Scott is developing a new series called Jesse Waylander and he is working on his next Jack Widow book.
If you liked this book, then please leave a review, go to his website, and sign up to receive previews, communications, and free content, which sometimes includes exclusive stories.
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