Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“Where are we?”

“In a safe place.”

He pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

“Can I sit up, please?”

He put an arm under her back and helped her to a sitting position.

She eyed him warily. “What do you want to know that I haven’t already told you?”

“For starters, why did you leave?”

“Tyler hired these detectives. I got nervous.”

“You left without permission. You signed on for the mission. You can’t change the rules midway through.”

“I understand that, Alan, I’m sorry. But conditions on the ground change. And I had to change with them. These detectives–”

“I have that under control. Your leaving has complicated things. Tyler is now with King and Maxwell. I lost three men to them. This all could have been prevented if you had spoken up and controlled Tyler. If he hadn’t gotten suspicious he wouldn’t have hired anyone. He would have believed what the Army told him and that would be that.”

“Wingo sent him an email.”

“Which we know about. But it could have been sent by anyone. Not necessarily his father. Again, if you had stuck to the script, which had this contingency built in, it would have been taken care of.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Every plan does not go smoothly.”

“Mine did. Until now.”

“What, did you bring me here to torture me? Or kill me? How is that going to help things?”

Again, Grant could tell she was nervous but trying to cover that with bravado.

“No and no. And it wouldn’t help things. I just want to see if you have any useful information to convey. Then I will redeploy you. But you need to understand that you screwed up. There have to be consequences, Jean.”

“I think I more than carried my weight. I got designated as Wingo’s ‘bride.’ I carried this whole thing pretty flawlessly the last year. The kid never warmed up to me. And Wingo was Wingo. It hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.”

“I understand that. Just tell me anything you might have learned and we can head back to town.”

“I left the house when things started to get hairy. I called you and told you what I was doing.”

“And I told you to stay the course.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“What else?”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“Any more communications from Wingo on his son’s email?”

“There was nothing. Wingo hasn’t tried to contact him again.” She looked curious. “What exactly happened over there? You never said.”

“Wingo lost the cargo, but my people lost him. He’s out there. Probably trying to figure out what happened and attempting to get back here. He has made contact with his immediate superior. Said superior did not believe his explanation. He is a marked man. DoD is putting major resources toward finding him. We’re of course looking for him too.”

“So he won’t stay out there long.”

“But we don’t need the DoD to find him, because they might just believe that he didn’t take the cargo. Then they start to look elsewhere. I want their focus on him.”

“So you need to find him first.”

“As you remarked before, easier said than done.”

“Then we better get to it.”

“Agreed.”

He pulled his knife, cut her hands and feet free.

He flipped her his Glock 9mm.

She checked the mag, chambered a round, pointed it at him. “Sorry, Alan.” She fired the weapon. Or at least attempted to. But there was no bang and no bullet was propelled down the barrel.

“Helps to have a firing pin,” said Grant, who seemed unsurprised by her attempt to kill him.

He struck, the knife passing across her neck, severing all her major arteries. He backed away from the blood spray. Her gaze was on him and he continued to watch her. Waiting.

Jean fell to the floor and a few seconds later finished bleeding out.

He stared down at her for a few moments. “Consequences, Jean.”

He wrapped her in plastic and tied her up tight like a present.

The dug grave was waiting in the woods a quarter mile away. As he put the last shovelful of dirt over the hole, he said a silent prayer and considered the fact that Sam Wingo was a widower for the second time.

He doubted the man would care about that right now. He had other things to worry about. He walked back to the cabin, cleaned up, and got back into his car.

He didn’t like losing Jean, but some things were sacrosanct. You followed orders. You didn’t make the rules up as you went along. There was a chain of command for a reason. A very sound, historically verified reason.

And Grant was, above all, a disciplined soldier. It didn’t matter that he no longer wore the uniform. It wasn’t about something you wore. It was all about what was inside the clothes. Discipline. Honor. Respect. Reliability. Professionalism.

Jean had violated all of these.

He didn’t have the option of court-martialing her.

There was really only one option left. He had employed that option but only after she had failed his loyalty test. He was a fair man. If she hadn’t tried to kill him, she would still be alive. She had and she wasn’t.

He drove on.

He had a list. He had checked it twice. It was time to move the ball forward.

He had one billion euros. He didn’t personally need all of it. He just needed a tenth of it.

But he believed it would be money very well spent.

THE NEXT MORNING MICHELLE DROPPED Tyler off at school.

She said, “If anything seems weird or if strange people show up looking for you, lock yourself in the principal’s office and call me.”

Tyler promised that he would, and Michelle watched him all the way into the school. She had never been a mother and had never really even imagined herself in that role. But she felt like an overprotective momma right now. In fact, the weight of responsibility she felt was even greater to her than when she’d protected VIPs at the Secret Service. Go figure.

She drove off and phoned Sean on her Bluetooth.

“Baby bird is dropped off,” she said. “Where do we go from here?”

“You think McKinney will meet with us again?”

“I don’t know. He left his card. I can call him.”

“Do that.”

“Why McKinney?”

“We need official access, Michelle. He provides it. Otherwise we are cut out of the loop and have no leads to follow up.”

“He’s not going to just invite us to the investigation.”

“You might be surprised.”

“What do you know that I don’t?”

“Just call him. Noon at our office.”

“What are you doing in the meantime?”

“Checking on Dana.”

“But you said you weren’t family.”

“There are always ways.”

“What do you want me to do besides call McKinney?”

“Play detective and try to get a line on Jean Wingo.”

“Okay. I’d say be careful but I know you will be.”

He clicked off.

Michelle drove to Tyler’s neighborhood. It looked just like thousands of neighborhoods that dotted the country. Working-class homes filled with working-class folks. Only this neighborhood was different. Certain people who lived here were definitely not who they appeared to be.

Michelle knocked on the door of Alice Dobbers, the neighbor who had seen Jean leave the previous day. Dobbers came to the door. She was well into her eighties, short, and about sixty pounds overweight. Her legs and arms were swollen and she looked to be in pain. She wore glasses; a hearing aid poked out of her right ear. Michelle explained who she was and what she wanted.

She added, “We’re trying to help Tyler.”

Dobbers nodded. “I know. Tyler told me about you and your partner. I can tell you what I told him. Saw her leave around noon, my soap was just about to come on. Aren’t many of them left, soaps I mean, so I’m sure of the time. Just happened to look out the window, commercial was on. Coffee. Don’t drink coffee anymore. Makes me hyper and pee at night. I don’t like hyper, don’t like peeing at night. Too much effort getting outta bed. Tried Depends. Didn’t like ’em. Felt like I was being born again. Not in a good way, diaper, you see.” She slid her glasses halfway down her nose and stared knowingly at Michelle.