Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“And to get married to a woman he hardly knew?” said Sean.

“Curtis didn’t come out and say that, but I suspect that was also true.”

“A lot of subterfuge. With what goal in mind?” asked Michelle.

“Something happened in Afghanistan. Wingo was on a top-secret mission to deliver something to someone. Only it never got there.”

“What was it?”

“Curtis drew the line there and wouldn’t tell me. And he might not even know. Okay, he’s a two-star but there are lots of two-stars and they seem to have built a wall around this, at least the most important elements.”

“And Sam Wingo?”

“Can’t be located.”

“Do they suspect that he might have pulled off some sort of a double cross?” asked Michelle.

“Curtis seemed to think he was a good man. But since he hasn’t come in, things aren’t looking too positive for him.” She looked at Sean. “What do you know about it?”

Sean and Michelle exchanged glances.

He said, “Since you’ve been frank with us, I’ll be frank with you. Tyler thinks his dad is alive.”

“Well, according to Curtis it seems the Pentagon thinks he is too. The KIA stuff might have just been made up to cover the situation.”

“While they look for Wingo?” noted Michelle.

She nodded. “And with the DoD after him I doubt the man can remain at large much longer.” She glanced sharply at Sean. “But why does Tyler think his dad is still alive? He certainly isn’t privy to the inner workings at the DoD.”

Sean hesitated. “If I tell you, will you tell your husband?”

“Realistically I can’t tell Curtis anything without revealing all of this. And I’m afraid doing so would wreck my marriage. So, no, your secret is safe with me.”

“Sam Wingo sent Tyler an email. Apparently after he was supposed to have died.”

“What did it say?”

“ ‘Please forgive me. I am sorry.’ ”

“Was that a confession of wrongdoing?”

Michelle said, “Or an apology for the military telling his son he was KIA.”

“I guess if I had a child and that had happened, I would feel the need to apologize too,” Dana said. She tapped the Formica tabletop with her fingernails. “What will you do now?”

Sean said, “What you’ve told us certainly helps answer some questions we’ve had. But it doesn’t get us any closer to Wingo and the actual truth.”

“I suppose you were right telling me to be afraid,” said Dana. “This all sounds highly clandestine and not for the average citizen to know about.”

“It is,” said Michelle. She glanced to the left and stiffened just a fraction. Her Secret Service training had just aided her once more.

She picked up her cup of coffee and said in a low voice, “Three bogies, six nine and twelve, armed and with comm packs. And while they look legit, something is telling me they’re not.”

Sean didn’t look in that direction. He simply stared over at Dana.

He said, “Dana, I want you to listen to me very carefully and then do exactly as I say.”

His tone startled her, but she quickly regained her composure.

“I’m listening,” she said a little breathlessly.

“There is a mall police substation right down that hall and to the left. Two policemen are stationed there. I want you to get up and go there. Don’t hurry. Don’t look around. Just walk normally. When you get there, tell them that you saw three men with guns in the food court and you were scared. They will call in backup and will go to investigate. You will proceed to your car by the shortest route possible and drive straight to the Pentagon. Is Curtis there?”

She slowly nodded.

“Okay, you will call him on the way and tell him that something has you concerned. You need to speak to him.”

Dana frowned. “And what about you?”

“We’ll be fine.”

“That’s what you always told me when you were with the Secret Service.”

“Sean,” hissed Michelle. “They’re almost here.”

“Just do it, Dana. Do it now.”

Dana smiled, rose, and said, “See you next time. Take care.” She turned and walked away and toward the police substation that was just around the corner.

Sean rose, and Michelle did, too. But they turned the other way, to face the three men heading toward them. Sean and Michelle split up, one heading right and the other left, which meant their opponents had to watch two targets instead of one.

Sean knew that if they were the authorities, creds would have come out by now. They hadn’t. He searched each of the men’s faces. His conclusion: military. But if so, where were the creds?

They could be former military.

They were within five feet of each other. In his periphery Sean saw Michelle’s hand drift to her waist. His own hand rose nearer the gun in his shoulder holster. He would prefer to do this outside; although the food court was sparsely inhabited right now, there was still the potential for a lot of collateral damage.

The man directly in front of Sean stopped and said, “We need you to come with us. And the woman who was just with you too. Get on your phone and call her back here.”

“And who might be asking?”

“All will be explained once you accompany us outside.”

“Don’t think so. My mother always told me to never go anywhere with strangers.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Michelle called out, “There are always choices.”

Sean was about to say something when a voice yelled, “Freeze!”

The three men in front of Sean could see who was calling out. When their hands reached for their guns Sean knew it was the mall police behind him.

Michelle had already darted forward and kicked the gun out of the man’s hand directly in front of her. Then she laid him out with a blow to his throat. He dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

The man in the middle pulled his weapon and opened fire at the approaching police. One of the cops dropped dead to the floor. The other threw himself over a fast-food counter. Sean leapt forward, grabbed the gun hand of the man who had spoken to him, and wrestled with him over the weapon.

The surviving policeman shouted, “Drop your weapons.”

All that got him was more shots fired at him. He ducked back down as all the civilians in the vicinity ran away screaming.

“Call in backup,” Sean yelled at the cop.

Michelle had dipped low, used one arm as a pivot point, swung her long legs around, and clipped the feet out from under the middle shooter. He went down hard but kept his gun. He pointed it upward at her, but she was no longer there. She slid on her back, feet-first at him, ramming one of her heels into the side of his face. He yelled and grabbed her ankle. She rolled up and came down on top of his head with her right elbow. The back of his head smacked the hard floor, knocking him out. She rose in time to see Sean whirling at her after being thrown off by the man he had been fighting.

The man grabbed a second gun from a backup holster, aimed, but did not fire.

This was because Sean had turned and shot him in the chest with the gun he had ripped from the man’s grip. The man fell to the floor.

Sean and Michelle turned in time to see the man she had first fought with lining up his sights on the second policeman as he tried to climb back over the fast-food counter.

Michelle pulled her gun and shot him in the side of his head right as he fired. He dropped back to the floor, dead. But his round had clipped the cop in the arm and he fell to the floor bleeding.

Michelle slid over to the dead shooter and searched his pockets.

“Nothing,” she called out. “No wallet. No ID.”

Sean ran over to the downed cop, ripped open his shirtsleeve, and examined the wound.