Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“I just saw it five minutes before you got back.” He looked at Tyler. “So he wants to meet with you. He set a time and place. He’s just waiting for your response.”

Tyler looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure my dad would be cool with you guys coming too.”

“So you were just going to meet with him alone?” said Michelle. “And who would be covering your back?”

“I… I mean, I guess I hadn’t thought about that yet.”

She said, “Well, if your dad is the kind of guy I believe he is, he’ll think about it. And he won’t do anything to put you in danger. So why don’t you write him back and tell him we’ve got your back and we’re part of the team and he needs to meet with all of us. Face-to-face.”

“But what if my dad won’t do it?” said Tyler.

Michelle shook her head. “I’m not sure he has much choice. We can’t let you go and meet with him alone. It’s too dangerous.”

Tyler said quickly, “I guess you’re right. My dad wouldn’t want me to get hurt.”

“Glad you see our point,” said Sean. “So send him another email. Tell him you can meet him tomorrow night at the place he gave you. You can tell him we’re investigators you hired to help him. Then we’ll go and see what he has to say.”

“Okay,” agreed Tyler.

“Sean, look at this.”

Michelle was pointing at the computer screen where she had pulled up the latest on the bombing at the motor court in south Alexandria.

“The police are looking for two people seen leaving the blast site. A man and a woman.”

Sean said, “Maybe we should have stayed and told the cops our story.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” she replied. “Too late now.”

“Uh, guys,” said Tyler. He was peering out the front window of the house. “There are like some dudes in your yard.”

Sean and Michelle exchanged another look, then strode over to the window and looked out.

Michelle sucked in a breath while Sean let one out.

“Shit!” they said at the same instant.

“Is that kind of like a SWAT [28] SWAT – Special Weapons And Tactics (team). team?” asked Tyler, backing away.

Sean shook his head. “No, that’s exactly like a SWAT team.” He turned to Michelle. “Take your gun out, remove the clip, and put it down on the table over there. Quick.” She did this and Sean followed suit with his weapon.

Sean said, “Tyler, go into the kitchen and sit at the table. Keep your hands in plain sight. And whatever they ask you to do, you do, understood?”

Tyler’s face was so pale Sean was worried he might pass out. He put a hand on his shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “Been through stuff like this lots of times, Tyler. It’s going to be okay.”

“You swear?”

“Absolutely. Now go into the kitchen.”

As soon as he was gone Michelle said, “When have you confronted a SWAT team before?”

“Never in my life.”

“Great.”

“I’m not waiting for the warning,” he said. He moved to the front door.

“Sean, wait.”

But he had opened the door and stepped outside with his hands up.

Sean was confronted by a dozen armed and armored men who had their assault weapons pointed at him.

“Is there a problem?” asked Sean.

One of the men came forward. He had on body armor and a face shield. He drew up the shield so Sean could see who it was.

Agent McKinney of DHS said, “Oh, yeah. A big one. And you’re it.”

SAM WINGO SAT ON THE BED in his hotel waiting for his son to email him back. Tyler, he noted, had used a new email account. That was smart thinking on his son’s part. But Tyler had not written him back about the meeting he wanted. And as every minute passed Wingo’s concern grew. He wanted to go to his home and see that Tyler was okay. But the place, he knew, was surely being watched. He would be arrested before he even got to the front porch.

It was maddening to come all this way just to sit and wait. Wingo could be patient when it was necessary, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

A burn phone that he had been given in India vibrated, and he snatched it up. This could only be from one person, the man who had arranged for the phone.

Adeel, his Muslim contact in the Middle East, the man who had gotten him through Pakistan and into India. But Wingo had almost been killed on the Khyber Pass. He still didn’t know if he’d been betrayed by Adeel. Maybe this email would answer that question.

He read the message: Bodies discovered at target site. Identified as all Muslims. Interestingly enough, a group of Western males arrived in Afghanistan on charter flight from States on the day before and took transportation in vicinity of target site. Heron Air Service, based in Dulles, Virginia, was the charter service they flew in on. Preliminary investigation indicates that some of the Westerners had U.S. credentials. Exact agencies unknown. They were given passage by various tribal chieftains. Usual financial arrangements meaning cash so no trace possible. No other information obtainable on my end. If you are back in States, you may follow up. Good luck. And I hope you see your son. A.

Wingo deleted the message from both his inbox and trash. He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A group of Westerners, some with U.S. creds, had flown into Afghanistan on the day before he was to deliver one billion euros to a group of Muslims. The Muslims had been slaughtered and these men had hijacked the shipment from Wingo, again while flashing U.S. creds. The money was gone and so were the men. Wingo was the fall guy and running for his life.

He had another thought, sat up, and clicked on his phone pad. He was Googling his own name. The same three articles that Sean had found – now expanded to ten – came up.

He read through them all quickly. They seemed to be a string, each merely regurgitating the facts of the others. Collectively, they were devastating.

Missing money, missing soldier.

Me.

How the hell had that leaked? Colonel South hadn’t mentioned anything about the story getting to the media. He wondered whether to call the colonel but ultimately decided the man would not be helpful. He was convinced of Wingo’s guilt. Maybe everyone was.

But then that meant Tyler probably knew about it too. What must his son think? That he was a thief or a traitor?

The news story went on to add that the missing money and soldier might have something to do with some classified operation that led all the way to the White House. However, neither President John Cole nor anyone at the Pentagon would comment, which of course was just creating a vacuum that was being filled by increasingly strident and hyperbolic voices.

Then he wondered about something else.

Where was Jean? Had she been pulled by the DoD after the mission overseas had gone to hell? If so, who was with Tyler?

That had been the hardest thing about this whole task for Wingo. Pretending to remarry and bringing what amounted to a complete stranger home to be his son’s new stepmom. But it had been unavoidable. Tyler needed a grown-up with him. Wingo had refused to leave without that condition met. Unfortunately, the simplest way to achieve it was to fake a marriage. And so he had. But he had regretted it from the very first instant Tyler had laid eyes on Jean and been told that this woman, in essence, was taking his real mother’s place.

Wingo turned on the TV in his room to see if there was any more news about the missing money. Every local station was chasing the same story, but it wasn’t this story.

There had been an explosion at a motor court in south Alexandria. The cause of the explosion was unknown as yet. But he sat up when the news anchor mentioned something else, namely that the room had been rented long-term to a Jean Shepherd, whose whereabouts were currently unknown.