Cliff Ryder - The Powers That Be

Theodore and his men had been intercepted while trying to head out to sea. The missiles were safely back under Room 59’s control.

Under interrogation, Theodore had revealed some surprising things, like the fact that the entire operation had been masterminded by TEAR, and been in the works for more than a year. Their ultimate goal seemed to have been to destabilize Cuba, loot key areas and pull out, leaving the rest of the country to fend for itself. Blinded by patriotism, the Cubans had signed on without knowing the real story.

Everyone had underestimated the ruthlessness of the mercenaries, and people under her command had suffered.

Kate vowed that wasn’t going to happen again, not if she could help it. She had already tasked Judy with working with the department heads to revamp the training, making it even more stringent. Kate knew operatives would be killed in the future, but it wouldn’t be because they weren’t prepared.

Taking a deep breath, Kate strode up the neatly groomed walkway, steeling herself to deliver the news. She raised a hand to her head, but resisted the urge to scratch the red wig covering her blond hair. She had done this several times since she had taken over as director, and hated it each time.

But there was no way she would delegate this to someone else. Like it or not, these people had died on her watch, and she felt that responsibility all too keenly.

With Jonas beside her, she knocked on the door, which was answered a minute later by an attractive, heavy-set woman in her early fifties. Her black hair was bound in a colorful scarf.

She stared at them with surprise that turned to sudden trepi-dation.

How is it that they always know? Kate wondered.

“Mrs. Ruiz?” Kate adjusted the rimless glasses on her nose.

The woman nodded.

“My name is Donna Massen, and I’m here on behalf the U.S. State Department. It is my sad duty to inform you that your son, Marcus Ruiz, was killed in the line of duty.” She had fought hard with the Room 59 board for this, and they had reached the compromise of creating Ms. Massen after protracted negotiations. Even though Kate had to disguise herself to deliver the news, the Massen persona remained viable for all of the families of those who had died while in the service of Room 59, to contact in case they ever needed anything. Although Room 59 would make sure that the relatives would be well compensated for their loss, it would never replace a missing husband, wife, son or daughter.

Mrs. Ruiz sagged against the door, clutching it for support. “I knew it… I knew as soon as I saw your faces.”

“We’re very sorry to have to deliver this news, madam.”

The first time she had done this, Kate almost broke down herself, but had managed to keep it together long enough to make it back to the car. Today she remained composed, but her heart was breaking along with the mother who stood before her, tears streaming down her face.

“All Marcus ever wanted to do was serve his country and help people. Tell me, if you can. How did he die?”

“I’m afraid—” Kate began, but was cut off by Jonas, his voice surprising her into silence.

“Ma’am, I had the honor and privilege of working along- side your son, and I can tell you that he gave his life so that thousands of other people would not die instead. He made the ultimate sacrifice, he did it without hesitation and he saved an entire nation.”

Mrs. Ruiz wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “Will we have the chance to see him once more?”

That one Jonas couldn’t handle and Kate stepped in again. “Yes—we were able to recover his body. There will be a full military funeral at Arlington National Cemetery, and we’ll make sure that you are there, all expenses paid.”

What a great trip—come to Washington, D.C., and bury your son there, Kate thought.

Marcus’s mother sobbed loudly, bringing two boys to the door, asking her what was wrong. She pulled herself together with an effort, looking as if she had aged ten years in the few minutes she had talked to them, and shooed the two children back inside.

“Mrs. Ruiz, I know this must be hard for you, and we don’t wish to intrude any more today. A representative will be in touch with you soon regarding some paperwork that will have to be completed.” The words, spoken like a dispassionate government official, tasted like ash in Kate’s mouth. “On behalf of a grateful United States of America and the world, we are very sorry for your loss.” Kate handed her a card. “If there is anything we can do to assist you, please let me know.”

Kate turned on her heel and walked back to the car. She got in and leaned back against the leather seat, exhausted.

Jonas went to the other side and slid into the darkened interior. Neither said a word as the car pulled away.

“Kate?” Jacob’s voice came over the intercom. “We’ll have to hustle if you’re going to make that flight to Idaho from Fort Lauderdale.”

Kate leaned forward and pressed a button. “Right. Do what you have to.” One down, two to go, she thought wearily, staring out the window at the bright, sun-soaked city all around her and feeling so very cold inside.

It wasn’t easy to find a deserted stretch of beach on the Florida coast, but after a bit of searching, Jonas had located a secluded site that was being developed for yet another high-rise. At the moment it now was empty, with no other buildings around for several hundred yards. He parked the Jaguar behind a rise and trudged up the hillock, the sand shifting beneath his feet.

Like so much else underneath me recently, he thought.

Cresting the dune, he saw the Atlantic Ocean stretched out before him, vast and dark and empty. This far up the panhan-dle, the small waves crashing against the sand were a muddy brown, not the deep blue of farther south. Rising and falling every few seconds, the endless waters could hide a multitude of sins, but tonight, Jonas hoped it would also help wash one away.

After the visit to Marcus’s mother, he had headed back for an intense after-action grilling by Denny Talbot, who was as serious then as he had been easygoing when Jonas had first put himself forward to head the mission. Although they had interrogated him extensively about his decision to approach Valdes, the question of his relationship to Valdes had never come up. He stated that he alone had made the decision to approach the Cuban major, and that Marcus had no part in it.

He wouldn’t think of staining the young man’s record post-humously.

The reports had been reviewed by the board, which had dressed him down for letting the mission almost get out of control, but had not recommended any disciplinary action except to disallow any more field operations for him during the rest of his tenure. Jonas didn’t care. He already carried the guilt of having overseen the deaths of three operatives as it was, and as for what had happened to his son—for that he would never forgive himself.

After it was all said and done, Jonas had taken his mandatory month off, and followed it with a leave of absence, which had been approved without comment. He had suspended his game programming, saying he would be out of the country for a while, and then had flown back to Florida, settled in and begun the slow, careful process of bringing his plan to fruition.

Now, after months of planning, and tens of thousands of dollars changing hands, the last part of it was about to happen. As he waited, he remembered the end of the long chain of events that had led him to this beach in the middle of the night, so many years later.

JONAS LEANED BACK in the raft, still not sure what to say.

What had begun as a simple kiss had quickly turned into something much more, almost before he even knew what was happening. Although they both should have been exhausted by their ordeal, instead they had responded to each other’s hunger with rising passion, culminating in an urgent, wordless coupling that had left them both spent and gasping.