After a short hike through the woods, they emerged into a clearing where two vans and a dark sedan sat waiting. Two people got out of one of the vans—a man and a woman, both dressed in black—and opened the back doors as they approached. The Russians poked them forward with their automatics.
The imposter president, who had kept her head bowed the whole time, stepped into the vehicle first.
She started to follow, but the woman who stood by the door stopped her with a hand on Shield’s back.
“Wait for my signal, Kennedy,” she whispered, before she pushed Shield forward into the van.
Shield, in a crouch, spun around, but the doors slammed shut, leaving them wrapped in darkness.
Why would the woman ask her to wait for a signal?
She could hear the rapid breathing of her companion a couple of feet away to her right. Shield sat beside her, her back against the driver’s side wall, as the van started up and began to move. There was no use fumbling around in the dark to see whether there was anything in here that might be useful. The meticulous planning of this conspiracy was evident. These people left nothing to chance. “Are you all right?”
The woman’s panicky inhalations began to calm. After a long silence, she replied. “Yes.”
“Good. Now, who the hell are you?”
“I told you to leave. I warned you.”
“Who are you?” Shield tried to contain her anger.
“My name’s Ryden Wagner.”
“Why does that sound familiar?”
“My name’s been all over the news.”
“Remind me why.”
“The homicidal florist from Philadelphia.”
Shield flashed back to the news reports. This, all of this, was absurd. “Is there anything else you want to add to your curriculum vitae?”
“I didn’t kill anyone. They set me up.”
“Who did?”
“Some rich woman.”
“And Moore was in on it.”
“I don’t know what his involvement is, exactly,” Wagner replied, “but he works for her. That’s why he was all over me.”
“Why the president?” Shield couldn’t believe any of this. “I mean, this is ludicrous.”
“Apparently Thomas’s agenda against the illegal-weapons trade is inconvenient for this woman who’s behind it all, and she wanted me to take Thomas’s place to stop it.”
“And you simply agreed?” Shield was so exasperated her accent suddenly sounded much more Italian than she allowed when on a job.
“I didn’t have a choice,” Wagner curtly replied. “They were going to give me the death penalty for something I didn’t do.”
“Let me guess. They promised you a get-out-of-jail-free card, money, a new life, and a pony.”
Wagner didn’t answer right away. “I needed to believe them. It was either join them and live or certain death.”
She remembered how Wagner had stared at the news reports about herself. The image of her mug shot sprang to mind. The cute bookworm type with the thick glasses. “The florist in the news looked nothing like you.”
“They had me…altered.”
“But still—”
“It was a bad picture, okay?”
“How long had they been grooming you?” A florist would need plenty of preparation time to pass so effectively and convincingly as the chief executive.
“More than two months of operations and lessons in…everything.”
Who the hell was the woman behind all this? And where did she find the financial and other resources to accomplish such a scheme? “I can’t believe you agreed to this,” Shield finally said. “And I can’t believe you acted the part so well.”
“Look, I’m going to talk to them when we get out, explain to them you—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Don’t you think I wanted to? Moore would have killed us both if he so much as suspected I’d said anything. For the longest time, he even had me believing you were put there to spy on me. I had no idea Jason was the one hired to do that. Moore kept telling me I was surrounded by people involved in the plan.”
“You even fooled Thomas’s family.” That was a weak consolation for Shield’s own failure to see through the guise.
“I almost blew it when the sister got personal, but Moore stepped in.”
“I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I could have gotten us out of there. I could’ve exposed Moore and the rest. Instead you lied and lied and led me to believe you…” What was the point? This woman was clearly too involved and too much of a coward to understand a word she was saying. She sighed. “Forget it.”
They sat in darkness and silence for a long while.
“Where are they taking us?” Wagner asked.
“What does it matter?” Shield replied.
“I’m sorry.”
“Really? Because that makes it better.”
“I’m not going to leave you with them,” Wagner said. “I’ll tell them you have nothing to do with this.”
“With what, exactly?”
“The plan. That you were never part of anything, knew nothing about me or Thomas or who’s involved or why they did this.”
“Is it because you’re that naïve or because you’re from the great state of denial that you think these people give a damn?” Shield tried to control the anger that for some reason outweighed her worry. “If I didn’t know what was going on before, I know now. And aside from that, Moore is aware I suspected something was up and that I’d realize something was wrong the minute the real president returned. I would have landed here anyway. They’re not going to let me, or you, for that matter, go anywhere.”
“But they—”
“Does this look like a ride to freedom?”
“But they promised me—”
“Do you think they’re going to leave any evidence or witnesses to what they’ve managed to pull?”
“I…”
“We’re talking about the U.S. president, not some boyfriend you lied to about his ability to give you amazing orgasms. You’ve deceived the nation. The whole damn world. They’re not going to let us walk and risk you or me talking.”
“That was the deal, and excuse me for not choosing a lethal injection.”
“That was never the deal.”
“You’re not listening. They—”
“They’re taking us to a nice remote place to kill us.”
Wagner shifted loudly. “Listen to me—”
“Stop,” Shield said. “Just…stop talking. I can’t listen to you anymore.”
Chapter Thirty
Jack could hear occasional yelling from the back of the van, and she was pretty sure it was Kennedy. The two women either didn’t know their captors could hear them or they didn’t care. What was clear was that Kennedy was pretty damn pissed, and for good reason. Although Wagner had sealed her own fate and probably deserved what was coming to her, Jack had to find a way to get the op out alive. It wouldn’t be easy; the sedan with TQ’s two backup goons was still on their bumper.
She turned to the driver. “Did TQ tell you one of the women is a contractor for a private organization?”
“So?”
“I’ve dealt with companies like that. They won’t rest until they find out what happened to her.”
Bill shrugged. “So? What if they do? No one can touch that crazy bitch.”
“And by that, you mean TQ.”
“Who else?”
“You don’t like her?”
He shrugged again. “I like her enough to want her alive and kicking so she can continue to pay me what she does. The woman pays well.”
“But you know she’s deranged.”
“I have a cousin who thinks he’s Napoleon. He used to run through Central Park wrapped in nothing but the French flag.” He paused, eyebrows furrowed as if trying to remember something. “Oh, yeah. He ate bugs, too. Anyway, he’s in the psych ward now. Straitjacket, padded walls, the works, and shit.” He chuckled and turned to look at her.