“There’s someone I want you to work with on the Mall Attacks,” Bill said as the plane turned off the runway and headed for the terminal. “Maybe you’ve run into him before on one of your missions.”
“Who’s that?”
Bill leaned toward Troy, as if he was concerned about listening devices on his own plane. “Major Wilson Travers,” he said quietly. “He’s in the Interrogation Division.”
Troy shook his head. “I might have met him, but those guys are pretty careful about not using real names around anybody they don’t know. Even Falcons.”
“He’s the best interrogator we have, other than Maddux, of course. Unlike Shane, Travers is completely trustworthy, and he’s a big, good-looking African American guy.”
“Agent Walker,” Troy murmured.
“What?”
“I think I know who you mean. Last spring I took cash and instructions to a guy over in Athens, Greece. I think that was Travers. He was with another guy. They called each other Agent Walker and Agent Smirnoff.”
It took three men to get Travers into the tiny cell. They’d tased him again several times on the ride to keep him subdued, but he was already recuperating. When they dropped him roughly on the wet cement floor, he tried to crawl after them. So they’d secured him to an iron ring that was affixed firmly to a wall of the room. One end of the chain was locked to the ring in the wall while the other was attached to a collar that was locked around Travers’s neck. They were taking no chances.
“That’s one tough bastard,” the man who’d tased Travers muttered as he locked the cell door.
Nathan Kohler nodded. “Yup.” He chuckled as he admired the bars of the cell. “I’m glad I had this thing made so strong. And I had that ring sunk into the wall.”
Baxter hurried into the Oval Office. He’d just finished a briefing with Homeland Security. The news wasn’t good. “Mr. President?” He stopped with the toes of his black leather tasseled loafers resting on the eagle’s tail. Dorn hadn’t even looked around when Baxter opened the door. He just kept staring out the window into the dark, rainy night outside. “Sir?”
“Yes, Stewart,” Dorn finally answered, slowly turning the wheelchair back toward the desk.
“I just finished my briefing with Jane Travanti and her staff.”
“Let me guess,” Dorn responded stoically. “We have no leads on any of the death squads. They all evaporated into thin air, except for the ones we think attacked the Mall of America in Minneapolis. And even though we have the remains of those men, we don’t know anything about them.”
“Not yet.”
“We never will, Stewart.”
“We’ve taken DNA samples and—”
“Did we at least confirm that they were the men involved in the MOA attack?”
“Yes, sir. Spent ammunition found at the mall matched the guns in their van.”
“But other than that, we have nothing. Correct?”
Baxter nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The president gestured at Baxter, then at Connie. “Will you two give me a few minutes alone?”
Baxter didn’t like the sound of that. “Mr. President, I don’t think you should be—”
“Enough, Stewart.” Dorn glanced at Connie. “Please go. Take him with you. I’ll call you in a few minutes. Don’t come back until I do.”
Connie looked quickly at Baxter for guidance. He pointed subtly at the door and nodded.
When they were both outside the office, Baxter took Connie’s hand in his. “Stay right here,” he ordered. “Wait two minutes and then go back in. I need to get something from my office and make a few calls. Then I’ll come back.”
“But, Mr. Baxter, the president said—”
“I don’t care what he said. You go back in there in two minutes. And when I get back, we’ll take him up into the residence together. In fact, I’ll call Mrs. Dorn on my way to my office. She’ll help us convince him. If the president doesn’t get some rest soon, he’ll die of exhaustion. I can’t have that.” He hesitated. “I mean, we can’t have that.”
Troy stared at the tombstone as snow fell on the graveyard, covering the freshly turned earth above the coffin. It was just before midnight, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep well. So he’d come out here after saying good-bye to Bill at the Westchester Airport. He rarely needed more than five hours a night, and tonight wouldn’t have been one of those nights even if he wanted it to be. He was tired, and tomorrow was going to be a long day. But he had way too much on his mind to get that kind of rest.
“I miss you, brother,” he whispered.
“I miss him, too.”
“Jesus.” Troy whipped around at the sound of the female voice coming from behind him.
“Sorry about that,” Karen said as she moved up beside him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m fine.” Troy glanced up through the darkness at the bare trees towering over the graveyard like sentinels — or ghosts. His heart was still pounding. He didn’t like graveyards to begin with, and hearing that voice out of nowhere had shocked him. “What are you doing out here?”
“The same thing you are. Trying to say good-bye to Jack.”
Troy reached out and took Karen’s hand. She’d been engaged to another Falcon — Charlie Banks — who’d been a close friend of Troy’s. Until Banks had been thrown into the Bering Sea from the Arctic Fire for the same reason Troy had — discovering that Shane Maddux was doing things he shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, Banks hadn’t made it out of the water alive after he’d been tossed overboard by the four-man crew of the Fire who worked for Maddux. Banks hadn’t been lucky enough to have a brother race to Alaska to save him. His body had never been recovered.
Jack had begun his quest to find out what had really happened to Troy that night on the Arctic Fire—he hadn’t believed the official story — by contacting Karen. She lived in Baltimore, and Jack had shown up unannounced at her waitressing job in Fell’s Point on his way west, the night after he left Connecticut. When she understood how the same thing that had happened to her fiancé had happened to Troy, she’d made it clear to Jack in no uncertain terms that she was going to Alaska with him. And they’d fallen in love.
“I’m sorry for you more than anyone else,” Troy said, squeezing her fingers gently. “You’ve already gone through this once before, and it wasn’t that long ago. No one should have to deal with so much.”
“Thanks.” She smiled sadly as she nodded at the headstone. “He loved you very much, Troy.”
“I know. We had our challenges, but all brothers do.”
“He wanted to be your brother so badly.”
“He was my brother.”
“I think that’s why he went to Alaska when everyone else said you were dead, when everyone else told him he was crazy and to just leave it alone, even your father.” Karen shook her head. “He knew you were alive. Even I tried to convince him he was crazy, but he wouldn’t listen. And thank God, right? I think that’s why he figured you two were brothers even when your father had told everyone you weren’t. Jack figured only a brother could know that.” It was Karen’s turn to squeeze Troy’s fingers. “He was jealous of you.”
“No, that’s not…I mean, that was all overblown, Karen. He wasn’t really—”
“Oh, yeah, he was. You were the star of the family. You played every sport, and you were the go-to guy on every team. You were everyone’s All-American in high school and at Dartmouth, especially Bill’s. Jack lived in your very long shadow for a very long time.”