Dead Aim

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Dead Aim Page 9

by Iris Johansen


  “So that you can avenge yourself on me as well as the bad guys?”

  “It's hard to distinguish between you.” She moved toward the bedroom. “I'm going to take another nap. Wake me when Galen gets here.”

  “I will. I wouldn't cheat you of the opportunity to meet him. He's truly an original.”

  And so was Judd Morgan, she thought as she closed the door. Hard as a diamond and just as brilliant, every facet shimmering with power and deception.

  Deception. Yes, that had been the one constant since she first saw Morgan in that stairwell. He was an enigma. She had no idea which move he'd make next.

  Or why.

  She walked across the room and crawled back into bed. She'd be glad when she regained more strength. She'd been on her feet for less than thirty minutes and she was disgustingly weak and shaky. Maybe it was the pills. . . .

  The pills?

  No, she didn't think Morgan was keeping her doped up for any reason other than pain. If he'd wanted to keep her sedated, he could have done it when he brought her here from the hotel. Not that she could be sure. Well, all she could do was be patient until she was better and meanwhile take whatever help he offered. Let him be as mysterious as the Sphinx for all she cared. It didn't matter how he tried to deceive her as long as she didn't trust him.

  Deceive.

  Suddenly her lids flicked open. “Oh, Jesus.”

  “What the hell is happening?” Galen asked harshly when Judd picked up the telephone. “My God, Logan has been on my ass since I landed. He said that if I don't go after you, he will. You were supposed to keep her safe.”

  “She is safe.”

  “The hell she is. Not bloody likely.”

  “What are you so upset about? I told you the wound wasn't serious.”

  “Wound?” Silence. “Do you have a television there in the lodge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then turn it on to CNN. I just picked up my rental car at Stapleton Airport. I'll call you again when I get on the road. I should be there within an hour.” Galen hung up.

  Not good. Galen didn't lose his cool without reason.

  Judd moved across the room and clicked on the television set.

  Morgan opened Alex's door. “I think you'd better come out here and see this.”

  She sat up in bed. “Is Galen here?”

  “Not yet. He should be here any minute.” He stepped aside. “But you'd better see this news report before he gets here.”

  “News report?” She swung her feet to the floor. “What's wrong?” Panic surged through her. “Has something happened to Sarah?”

  “No. Something's happened to you. Come on.”

  She was already following him. “What news story? Have they found out that Logan paid you to snatch me?”

  “I wish.” He nodded at the TV. “Damn, another commercial.”

  “Screw the commercial. Tell me what's happening.”

  “It would be better if you saw it for yourself. You're not likely to believe me.” He shrugged. “Okay, you're being hunted by the FBI for involvement in the possible sabotage of Arapahoe Dam.”

  She stared at him incredulously. “You've got to be kidding.”

  He shook his head. “Jurgens made an announcement this morning. There's an all-points bulletin out for you.”

  Her knees felt weak and she dropped down into a chair. “It doesn't make sense. I'm the one who's been telling everyone that the dam break had to be investigated.”

  “According to Jurgens, Homeland Security was already suspicious that the break was no accident. They didn't want to make their findings public until they had more proof of how the sabotage was done. They're almost sure that the job was done by Matanza, and you were in Guatemala, their home base, two years ago. The CIA believes that's when you were recruited. The FBI was about to make an announcement when Ken Nader was killed. You were under suspicion from the moment you were found at the site.”

  She shook her head dazedly. “I could have died in that landslide.”

  “And who would suspect a supposed victim of being involved in Nader's murder?”

  “And what about that man who ran us off the road and shot Sarah?”

  “But never touched you. It was entirely possible your accomplices arranged the attack to take any suspicion off you in Nader's death.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “Actually, it's pretty clever.”

  “I don't understand this. Why would the FBI—” She drew a deep breath. “I have to get in touch with them and straighten this out.”

  He shook his head. “Bad move. I'd bet you'd be dead within twenty-four hours.”

  “Bullshit. We're talking about a law-enforcement agency. They might put me in jail until I could get this mess cleared up, but no one's going to shoot me.”

  “No, you'd probably conveniently find a way to commit suicide in your cell—if you made it that far. It's more likely that you'd be killed when you were apprehended. Presto. No witness.”

  “You're saying you think the FBI is in collusion with those men at the dam.” She lifted her shaking hand to her mouth. “And there was something about the CIA too. . . . I just don't believe it.”

  “It's not necessarily a conspiracy that goes deep to the bone of either organization. But I believe someone high up is pulling strings and furnishing scenarios to them that may fry your ass.”

  She shook her head. “I won't believe it. You're talking about Americans who work every day to protect our country.”

  “Ah, more heroes?”

  “Yes,” she said defiantly.

  “Heroes can be manipulated. Evidence can be planted. I'd bet every news story for the next few days will show Alex Graham's guilt unfold with all the drama of a soap opera.”

  “My God, you're cynical.”

  “I've been there. I know how it works.” He turned away. “I'll make coffee. You may need a jolt of caffeine after you finish watching CNN.”

  She needed more than caffeine at the end of those fifteen minutes. She felt ill. Christ, even the photos they'd turned over to the news agencies appeared incriminating. She recognized one taken at the airport in Guatemala City that looked like a mug shot.

  “Not your most flattering photo.” Morgan handed her a cup of coffee. “And it may be the one that's broadcast and rebroadcast.”

  “They still haven't come up with a reason why I'd do something like this.”

  “The Fox affiliate has a few theories. Bitterness over your father's death at WTC comes high on the list. Several people heard you say that the government should have paid attention to information they received before 9/11.”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “And friends and employers say you changed after your father's death.”

  “Didn't everyone change after 9/11?”

  He nodded. “But we're talking about you.”

  “It's ridiculous.” She moistened her lips. “And I'm a journalist. I know the people in my profession. They're not going to be duped. They're going to go after their own stories.”

  “But by that time you may be dead news. With the emphasis on dead. Will they work their asses off to discover how innocent you were then?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And maybe not. Every day is a new story. You'd better concentrate on—” He was interrupted by a knock on the door. “It's about time.” He moved to the door. “Galen?”

  “You're damn right. Let me in.”

  Morgan unlocked the door and stepped aside. “It took you long enough.”

  “You're the one who decided to move up here to the back of beyond.” His gaze went to Alex. “Hi, I'm Sean Galen.”

  Galen was a man in his late thirties with close-cut dark hair and dark eyes snapping with vitality. Even his movements were charged with electricity as he came into the room. “I hear this idiot managed to get you banged up. How are you?”

  “I was better before I saw that I'm some sort of fugitive.”

  “Yeah, that came as
a shock to us too.” He took off his jacket and tossed it on a chair. “Logan is foaming at the mouth.”

  “Then let him direct some of that anger at Jurgens,” Alex said. “If Logan has so much clout, tell him to get me out of this mess.”

  “Believe me, he's trying.” He glanced at Alex's cup. “Tell me that's hot coffee?” He didn't wait for an answer but headed for the kitchenette. “Elena wasn't pleased that I had to take off. She said we both should be involved in having this baby. I'm not happy with you, Judd.”

  “Alex's wound is my fault; I plead innocent to everything else. Besides, Elena doesn't need you. She can handle anything. The baby will be a piece of cake to her.”

  Elena? Alex had a vague memory of Morgan mentioning the name. The woman who wanted to cut his throat . . . Smart woman. “And what's Logan doing to straighten this out?”

  “He's called Jurgens and is in contact with Homeland Security. So far they're not responding very positively.”

  “They've got to realize it's a mistake.”

  Galen glanced at Morgan. “Mistake?”

  “Setup.”

  “That's what I think. So that means the dam break probably had some sort of government connection.”

  Morgan nodded.

  They were both ignoring her. “Or that it's a mistake that I can straighten out if I can just get someone to listen. Maybe some hotshot in the Bureau developed this theory about me and they're running with it.”

  They both just looked at her.

  Her hands clenched into fists. “Dammit, this doesn't have to be a conspiracy.”

  “No, but it makes more sense than a bureaucratic blunder,” Morgan said. “Have they turned loose all their dogs, Galen?”

  Galen nodded. “According to Logan it's going to be a witch hunt and no one's listening to him.”

  “CIA's involved. How high up?”

  “Danley broke the news on the recent discovery of Alex's connection with Matanza. You can't get much higher than that. Do you know Danley?”

  Morgan shook his head. “My contact in the CIA was Al Leary. But Leary was ambitious as hell and I'd bet he's in Danley's pocket.” He thought about it. “Which may not be bad for us. He might know—” He shook his head. “Later. We don't have time for this. As I told you when you called me back on the phone, we have to get Alex out of here. That doctor I had up here to treat her isn't about to take this kind of heat. He'll be on the line to the police the minute he sees a photo and makes the connection. Have you found a place for her and arranged for a helicopter?”

  Galen nodded. “I called from the car on the way here.”

  “Wait a minute.” Alex stood up. “You're not listening to me. What part of what I said didn't you understand? I'm not running away and hiding.”

  Galen and Morgan exchanged glances.

  Morgan shrugged. “I was expecting this. Unfortunately, she's an idealist. She wants to believe the good guys are always good.”

  “Nice.” Galen smiled at Alex. “I'd like to believe that too. But it's always better to hedge your bet.”

  “And that means?”

  “Let us get you to someplace safer and then start a dialogue with the FBI.”

  She hesitated.

  “Why not?” Galen asked. “If we're wrong, then you'll be able to rub our noses in our dastardly suspicions. If we're right, then you'll be alive and kicking.” His eyes twinkled. “Preferably not us.”

  This situation was so bizarre anything could happen. It wouldn't hurt to be cautious. “Okay.” She turned toward her bedroom. “Let me throw some clothes on and we'll get out of here.”

  “Good. Galen, you call and tell the helicopter we're ready for pickup.” Morgan moved toward the study. “I'll go down to the bottom of the road and keep watch.”

  “You talk as if we may be under siege,” Alex said sarcastically. “As far as I'm concerned, this is merely a precaution. Nothing is going to—” Morgan had come out of the study carrying a rifle. “What are you doing? You look like you're going to war. I don't want anyone hurt, and I won't be party to any violence.”

  “You're not invited.” Morgan headed for the front door. “And if it makes you feel any better, I'll try not to damage anyone too badly. I won't be the one to start the war.”

  “Are you taking the Land Rover?” Galen asked.

  Morgan shook his head. “I'll walk. We'll leave the lights on and the Land Rover in the driveway. I want the house to look occupied. I'll get back here as soon as I see the helicopter. Take care of her, Galen.”

  “It's my pleasure,” Galen said to Alex as the door slammed behind Morgan. “Let me know if you need any help getting dressed.”

  “Thanks.” She was probably crazy for going along with this, she thought as she went into her bedroom and started to dress. She didn't know Galen, she didn't trust Morgan, and she was only a pawn to Logan. She didn't believe anyone in the FBI was intentionally conspiring against her. So why the hell had she given in to their arguments?

  Waco. Ruby Ridge. WTC.

  Government agencies that made mistakes could cause tragedy and endless regret. It only made sense to avoid any confrontation until she was in a position to show everyone how ridiculous the suspicions were.

  She slipped on her strollers, draped her plaid shirt over her shoulders, and grabbed her jacket. Galen would have to help her put on the rest of these clothes. This blasted shoulder was too sore to punish it anymore.

  Galen was leafing through the sketches when she came out of the bedroom. “These are very detailed. You have a good memory.”

  “They aren't faces I'd forget. Morgan was determined I'd remember every single detail. He nagged me until I was ready to throw the pad at him.” She added grudgingly, “But he did a brilliant job. He's exceptionally talented.”

  “Yes, he is. In any number of areas. A jack-of-all-trades—and master of all of them.”

  “Including assassin. He told me he killed George Lester.”

  “Before George Lester could kill you.”

  She remembered the tingle of shock she had felt when she saw Morgan walk out of the study with that rifle. He looked totally at ease with the weapon, as if it were an extension of his body. “But I think it was too easy for him. Human life is precious. Destroying it should be difficult, if not impossible.” She crossed the room to stand before Galen. “Can you help me get this shirt on?”

  “Sure.” He put down the sketches and helped her with the shirt and quickly buttoned it. “Sorry about this. I'm sure Judd didn't mean for you to be—”

  “It doesn't matter what he meant. It happened. And it wouldn't have happened if he hadn't brought me here.” She gave him a level stare. “And you're as much to blame, for arranging it.”

  He gave a mock shiver. “It's dropped a few degrees in here. Let me help you put on that coat.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Morgan cursed steadily beneath his breath as he trained his binoculars on the caravan of cars in the valley below. He could see two police cars trailing at least four unmarked vehicles.

  He quickly dialed Galen. “Get the hell out of there. It's too late for the pickup. They're on their way. Six cars.”

  “I'll change the pickup to the valley. We're heading for the car now. We should reach your position in a few minutes.”

  “You'll run right into them if you keep on going down the mountain. There's a thick stand of trees about a mile down from the lodge. Hide in the shrubbery until they get past you.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “Guarding your back.” He hung up.

  “Six cars?” Alex echoed as they pulled into the stand of trees. “To capture me?”

  “Evidently you're a very dangerous person.” Galen's tone was abstracted as he reached for his phone. “A change of plan, Dave,” he said into the phone after dialing quickly. “Send the copter to the valley. Give us fifteen minutes.” He hung up and said to Alex, “No problem.”

  She could see any number of potential pro
blems. “Where's Morgan?”

  He nodded at the pines surrounding them. “Somewhere out there. He has a fondness for climbing trees. Though pines aren't his favorite. Not enough cover.”

  “Isn't he coming with us?”

  “Probably.”

  “What do you mean? Either he is or—”

  “Here they come,” Galen murmured, his gaze on the road. “I'd say they're moving with a definite sense of purpose, wouldn't you?”

  There was no question of that, Alex thought in bewilderment. The caravan of cars was traveling swiftly up the road toward the lodge. The sheer number of cars was threatening. What the devil was happening here?

  The cars approached and then passed the stand of trees where they were hiding.

  “We'll give them a few minutes more.” Galen started the car. “But they seem fairly focused on their mission.”

  Jesus, and she was that mission. It was too macabre.

  “Okay, we're out of here.” Galen put the car in gear and drove out of the trees. “If they're playing nice, we should be down the mountain before they get into the lodge.”

  “And what's playing nice?”

  “Calling out for surrender, surrounding the place, tossing a few tear-gas grenades. Standard operations. That all takes time.”

  “Tear gas? For God's sake, that's ridiculous. There's no way that I'd be enough threat to warrant—”

  The vibration that shook the car came a second before the sound of an explosion.

  Her gaze flew to the rearview mirror. The lodge at the top of the mountain was engulfed in flames.

  Galen stepped on the accelerator. “Evidently they decided not to play nice.”

  She couldn't take her horrified gaze from the burning lodge. “If I were in there, there's no way I'd be able to get out to surrender.”

  “Does that tell you anything?”

  She couldn't answer. All she could do was watch in helpless fascination as the devouring flames destroyed the lodge.

  “My God, Jurgens, why didn't you wait?” Leopold stared in horror at the burning building. “You didn't give her a chance.”

  “You heard me call out and tell her to surrender,” Jurgens said. “Didn't you see that rifle aimed at us from that window to the right of the door?”

 

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