Dead Aim

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Dead Aim Page 11

by Iris Johansen


  “Then maybe you should consider that organizations like the FBI and CIA are so spread out and secretive that sometimes one department doesn't know what another is doing. Much less what each other is up to. That was one of the prime outcries after September eleventh.” He poured himself a cup of coffee. “It's entirely possible that we have a bad apple in a fine, healthy bushel.”

  “Jurgens?”

  He nodded. “But you've got to be aware that he might not be alone.”

  “So much for your theory.”

  “This attack on you has pretty wicked firepower. The media mentioned Homeland Security.”

  “Oh, for God's sake. Now you're saying they're involved? Why not the President?”

  “Jesus, I hope not. I like Andreas. By the way, his trip to the dam has been postponed at the request of Homeland Security until the Secret Service can verify there's no threat from Matanza.”

  “Or me?”

  “Or you. And all I'm saying is that Homeland Security must have been brought into the picture by either hard evidence supplied by the FBI and CIA or the influence of someone pretty high up.”

  “There was no hard evidence against me. I didn't do anything.”

  “Except be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He smiled faintly. “And then refuse to go away and forget about it. You're a very obstinate woman.”

  “Obstinate? I was at Arapahoe Junction. I dug and dug, and all the time I knew. . . .” She had to steady her voice. “You're damn right I'm obstinate.”

  “I'm not complaining. I like it. Which is unusual considering what problems it's causing me.”

  “I don't care whether you complain or not. For the last few weeks my life has been a nightmare. I've been caught in a landslide, forced to jump into floodwaters, shot at, run off the road, and now this. For God's sake, it's like something from The Perils of Pauline.”

  “You haven't been tied to the railway tracks yet.”

  “That's probably next. All I want is a way out of this mess.” She stared him in the eye. “And you've got to help me.”

  “I told you that I'd find the men who tried to kill you.”

  “The circle seems to be growing by leaps and bounds. And it's going to keep growing until I find out what happened at Arapahoe Junction.” She drew a deep breath. “So you're going to be with me all the way.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you don't and they catch me, I'll tell them whatever I'm guilty of I did on your orders.”

  He stared at her for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed. “My God. You're wonderful. In a Lucrezia Borgia kind of way.”

  “I'm fighting for my life.”

  “And you're quite right not to trust me with it. You shouldn't trust anyone with anything that precious. It's too easy to take away.” He dropped down into a chair. “So what exactly are you blackmailing me to do?”

  “First, get Galen and Logan to find out what's going on with this witch hunt. I can't fight them if I don't know who is behind it. Second, I want to know what happened that night at the dam. There wasn't any explosion. I don't know what they did, but it was like . . .” She tried to remember. “A sort of . . . rumbling, shaking.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Oh, yes.” She paused. “I want you to tell me how and what you know about the last man we sketched yesterday.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The helicopter pilot. I didn't tell you he had a scar. I didn't even remember it until I saw the sketch. But you sketched it in. Later, I thought about it and realized that I wasn't that tired. I would have remembered telling you.” She added, “My first thought was that you were in collusion with them. But then I remembered your reaction while you were drawing the sketch. You were shocked. You recovered quickly, but you didn't know that was the face you were going to draw.”

  “This is all supposition.”

  “Yes. Tell me one thing. Why did you think I'd be gullible enough to swallow that ‘too exhausted to remember' excuse?”

  “I didn't. I took a chance. It was the only out I had if I was going to send the sketch to Galen with every detail. I had to do that. I needed to know who that bastard was.”

  “And you don't?”

  “I only saw him once, and the circumstances weren't conducive to exchanging either names or pleasantries.”

  “Why not?”

  He didn't answer.

  “Dammit, why won't you talk to me?”

  “I've always subscribed to the policy of ‘need to know.' ” He held up his hand. “I know. More military garbage.”

  “I need to know.”

  “Don't be greedy. I've caved in to your blackmail on the other things. I'm going to need some time to decide if I want to confide an episode that may have nothing to do with any of this. I'm a very cautious man.”

  She had a fleeting memory of Morgan, rifle in hand, standing on that tarmac as the helicopter descended. “I haven't noticed. And you said ‘may have nothing to do with.' If you're not sure, then I should be told what—” He was shaking his head. “Dammit, you're not being fair. You're making me trust you in a situation where it could mean my neck.”

  “You do trust me. Not to any great depth, but you've worked your way through all the facts and our history to date and come out with the conclusion that I'm not on the bad guys' side.”

  “Right now.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  “And I'd be a lot more certain if you'd tell me where you saw that man in the sketch.”

  “Too bad. We all have to live with uncertainties.”

  He wasn't going to budge. She temporarily abandoned the battle and went back to fortifying the gains she'd made. “Have you really caved on those other issues?”

  “Sure. I'm wallowing in the dirt and being pulled behind your chariot wheels.”

  “Bull. Stop it. Just give me your promise that you won't jump to the other side if the going gets rough.”

  His smile faded. “You must have been talking to Galen.”

  “I don't know what you mean.”

  He studied her expression. “Maybe you don't.” He finished his coffee. “I don't like to make promises. It's too confining.”

  “That's why I want one from you.”

  “Would you trust me if I did give you my word?”

  She thought about it. “I . . . think I would.”

  He chuckled. “What enthusiasm.”

  “I can't read you. Most of the time I don't know what you're thinking. I just have to rely on instinct.”

  “That can be scary. And a truckload of scary things have happened to you lately.” He rose to his feet and took her cup. “If it makes you feel better, you have my promise I won't jump ship on you.”

  It did make her feel better. It was totally unreasonable that his words brought this sudden surge of warmth and reassurance.

  The same warmth she had felt when he touched her wrist that day in the stairwell.

  But that was different, that was deception and deliberate manipulation. And since she knew he was fully capable of both, why did she put stock in his word?

  “You're fretting about why you're trusting me,” he said over his shoulder as he headed for the kitchen. “It's pretty amazing to me too.”

  Evidently he had no trouble reading her, she thought in frustration. It wasn't fair.

  “But it feels kind of good.” He didn't look at her as he put the cups in the dishwasher. “Sort of like feather beds and mashed potatoes.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “I wouldn't think of it.” He raised his gaze to meet hers. “Unless I thought I could get away with it.”

  “Well, you can't, and I wish—”

  My God.

  She quickly glanced away from him. Where had that come from? One minute she had been irritated and the next . . . aware. It was like that moment when he'd touched her when he changed her bandage. “How long
do you think Logan will take to find out anything about this mess?”

  He didn't answer for a second. “It depends. I'm sure he's on it now. Your friend Sarah must be very persuasive. Have you known each other long?”

  “Yes.” Sarah was a safe topic. Skid away from that weird, intimate moment. “Years. I ran into her during the first earthquake I covered near Istanbul. I was very green, and she saved me from being shot by one of the soldiers protecting the site. And then she saved me from breaking down any number of times when they started recovering the bodies.” She shook her head. “It broke my heart. It still does.”

  “Then why do you go back?”

  “Because I can help. It's not right to pass responsibility on to someone else because it hurts.”

  Confidences. Intimacy again. She had to break the spiral. She stood up and moved toward the bedroom. “Maybe I will rest for a while. Call me when Galen gets here.”

  Morgan nodded. “I'll be in to check your bandage in a little while.”

  “No, it's fine,” she said quickly.

  He met her gaze and then slowly nodded. “Whatever you say.”

  She moistened her lips. “Arapahoe Junction. That wasn't an explosion. I know it wasn't.”

  “I believe you.” He turned away. “Rest well.”

  “She said it wasn't an explosion,” Morgan told Galen as he watched him prepare supper. “She's positive.”

  “Then what brought the hill down? Earthquake?”

  “That was one of the possible explanations brought up by the FBI.” He shook his head. “But who the hell could trigger an earthquake? No, I'm not sure what it was.”

  Galen looked up from the chicken he was basting. “But you have an idea.”

  “I didn't say that.”

  “You don't say a tenth of what you're thinking, you secretive bastard.” He picked up the pan and headed for the oven. “It's a wonder I don't give up on you.”

  “Yes, it is. You should. Why don't you?”

  “I'm a masochist.” He closed the oven door. “But not enough to stay away from Elena for much longer. Now that I've finished playing superhero, I'm going to cut you loose and go home.” He grinned. “I'm enjoying the hell out of being a henpecked husband.”

  “Elena is no hen. Is there such a thing as tiger-pecked?”

  “I'll find out, if she has to go through much more of this pregnancy without me. That's not going to happen. I'm not going to miss it.” He went to the stovetop and started to stir the vegetables. “But you're going to miss me. Even though I bought plenty of frozen dinners for you.”

  “We'll survive. You're opting out entirely?”

  “Anything I can do on the phone or through contacts, I'm your man. I'll start out by getting an ID on those two sketches. But the only thing that would get me to leave Elena again is if you or Alex were about to be drawn and quartered. And then only with Elena's permission.”

  Morgan made a face. “Not likely.”

  “I don't know. Maybe she's mellowing with pregnancy.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah.”

  “I didn't think so.”

  “I'll get you transport. I'll get you experienced men for on-site help. I'll use my brilliant mind and persuasive talents to clear your path. As long as it doesn't take me more than thirty feet from Elena.”

  “Okay, okay. I hear you loud and clear. When do you leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I'll probably be gone before you wake.”

  “No, you won't.”

  Galen smiled. “That's right. You'll be on guard duty, won't you?”

  “I'm going to stay alive. And she's going to stay alive.”

  “Why did you let her think you'd given in to blackmail? You couldn't be in worse shape with the government than you are now.”

  “It didn't matter. It made her feel more in control. Those bastards have shredded her confidence in practically everything she believes in. She needed to feel she was doing something positive.”

  “And blackmail is positive? Never mind. It always depends on the situation.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “The chicken will be out in fifteen minutes. Do you want to wake her?”

  “In a little while. Since you're between courses, why don't you get on the phone to Logan?”

  “And what am I to tell him?”

  “That you're opting out and I'm going to expect him to fill in the gap.” He paused. “And if he doesn't, I'm going after his ass.”

  Galen gave a low whistle. “You don't talk to Logan that way.”

  “You can say it however you want to say it. Just make the point.”

  “No threats. He wants Alex kept alive. He'll cooperate.”

  “With you. He has to cooperate with me, and he's not sure which way I'll jump.” He paused. “What about a bribe?”

  “For God's sake, he's a billionaire.”

  “There are all kinds of bribes. Tell him I may be able to turn up something very beneficial to him.”

  “What? Okay, don't tell me. But I'm not going to offer Logan a bribe.” He added, “Any more than I would you.”

  Morgan chuckled. “Galen, you offered me a bribe to draw me into this.”

  “Well, that was different.”

  “Yeah, you won't give up trying to save my ass.”

  “Someday I will.” Galen pulled out his phone. “I'll handle Logan. Anything else you want me to tell him?”

  “No. But I have something else I want you to do. Send a man down to Fairfax, Texas. It's a horse-and-buggy town near Brownsville. Make sure he's good and very careful.”

  “And?”

  “There's a textile plant on the edge of town. Have him skirt around and see what he can come up with.”

  “What do you expect him to come up with?”

  “I'm not sure. Maybe something . . . unusual.”

  “You've got it.” He dialed Logan's number and when he picked up said, “We're safe, we've roosted, and I have a chicken in the oven.” He flinched. “Hey, I wanted to see what kind of follow-up we need. Quiet down.” He walked out onto the porch, talking fast.

  Evidently Logan wasn't pleased at the way things were going. Well, neither were any of them, Morgan thought wearily. It was going to be a hell of a job just keeping them all alive.

  He could walk away. He hadn't counted on the noose tightening around him like this.

  Bull. He'd had a suspicion there might be a connection between Arapahoe Junction and Fairfax. It wasn't the carrot that Logan had held out to him that had brought him here. Nor was it Alex Graham's dossier and that fascinating face that had influenced him.

  He had used Alex for an excuse to stop hiding and confront what had happened at Fairfax.

  “No sign of her?” Betworth asked. “My God, she couldn't just disappear. She had half the law-enforcement officers in Colorado after her.”

  “We'll get her,” Jurgens said. “We're processing the number on the helicopter now. The car they abandoned was rented at the airport by a Dave Simmons from Baltimore. Of course, we believe his ID was phony. But his description doesn't match the one the doctor gave us of the man who brought him to the lodge when Graham was injured. So it wasn't Morgan.”

  “What a surprise.”

  “I'm doing everything I can. Look, I put my ass on the line when I blew that lodge. There were two local detectives there who were mad as hell.”

  “Then we'll take care of them.”

  “Powers?”

  “No violence. I'll call Tim Rolfe in Homeland Security and ask him if he doesn't think a gag order regarding Graham would be wise.”

  “He'll go along?”

  “He has so far. He's an ambitious man who knows who's going to hold the power. He wants to stay on my good side.” Betworth paused. “As you do, Jurgens. You've done a good job, but I'm going to ask more of you. You have to move faster. We're getting too close to Z-3. I can't have any loose ends.”

  “Perhaps you could postpone it?”

  “After four years of planning? No,
Jurgens. I have to strike while the iron is hot. I may never get another opportunity. Which means you may not get another opportunity.” Betworth added gently, “You're very clever and I know you'll do whatever is necessary. Just find them and remove them so that we can concentrate on what's important to us.”

  7

  “I'm glad you enjoyed my chicken, Alex. Not that I expected anything else.” Galen stood up and started to clear the table. “I thought you deserved a good meal, considering Morgan is entirely lacking in that skill.”

  “It was delicious.” She stood up and started to stack the dishes. “I'll help you wash up.”

  “I usually leave that for Morgan. The drudgery factor is humbling, and God knows he needs it.”

  Morgan's gaze was narrowed on Alex's face. “I'll pass tonight.” He stood up. “I believe she wants to do something besides wash dishes. I'll go scout around the grounds.”

  He was too damn perceptive, she thought in frustration as she carried the plates into the kitchen.

  Galen followed her and started putting dishes into the dishwasher. “Is he right?”

  “Yes. Morgan says you're leaving in the morning.”

  “Yep, but I'm not totally deserting you.”

  “Morgan told me that too. But I'm going to have to rely principally on him. That makes me very uneasy.”

  “It shouldn't. In many ways he's savvier than I am. Though I hate to admit it.” He paused. “Nah, scratch that. It's just that we've had experiences in different areas.”

  She smiled reluctantly. It was difficult not to smile at Galen. Morgan was right, he was an original. “I don't care about his experiences. I care about his character. I can't read him.”

  “And you don't trust him.”

  “Dammit, he kills people.”

  “True.”

  “Isn't that enough to cause anyone to take a step back?”

  “In your experience, has he killed anyone who didn't deserve killing?”

  “That's not the point.”

  “If it makes you feel better, he's not in the business any longer. He's retired. He took this job as a favor to me.”

  “And what else could tempt him to return to the ‘business'?”

 

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