Steve Berry - The Jefferson Key

He pushed through the last of the foliage and found his boat. An easterly breeze stirred up tiny funnel clouds of sand near the water. He yanked off his wet shirt. Before changing he checked his cellphone. Edwin Davis had called four times. He hit REDIAL.

“How are things there?” Davis asked.

He reported the disaster, but also the success.

“We have a problem here,” Davis said.

He listened to what Cassiopeia had done, then said, “And you let her go?”

“It seemed the only course. The storm is excellent cover. Apparently, though, we’re not the only ones who think that.”

“I’m coming down there.”

“Shouldn’t you get those pages?”

“I’m not going to sit around here with my head up my ass and wait for low tide while Stephanie and Cassiopeia are now in trouble.”

“You don’t know that. Cassiopeia can handle herself.”

“Too much can go wrong. I’ll contact you from the air. Keep me posted.”

He ended the call and stripped off the remaining wet clothes, replacing them with the dry ones from the boat. Before pushing off from the beach, he called the Secret Service pilots and told them to stand by to leave, he was on his way.

WYATT FOUND HIS BOAT ON THE ISLAND’S NORTH SHORE. HIS body was chilled, his clothes soaked from the cold swim. He’d anticipated spending the night on the island and, not knowing what to expect, had brought an extra shirt and pants. He’d also packed a knapsack with supplies, including matches, which he used to start a fire just beyond the beach.

What had happened to Malone?

He had no idea, not seeing or hearing anything while in the choppy bay. He was tired from the fully clothed swim, his muscles unaccustomed to such a workout. He huddled close to the flames and increased the warmth with more brush and sticks. He hoped Knox had made it back to shore and delivered his message to the captains. He hadn’t meant a word of what he’d said about selling them the missing two pages.

He was concerned with only one thing.

Killing Andrea Carbonell.

He changed into the spare clothing and wished for another jacket like the one he’d left underground. The ride back across the bay would be brisk. He was hungry, and found a couple of energy bars along with a container of water. He would return the stolen boat to shore and leave it where it would not be found for a couple of days.

He checked his watch.

Lights on the bay caught his attention. He spotted a boat speeding toward the island from the direction of Chester. This late? He wondered if it was law enforcement, alerted by the gunfire.

He quickly extinguished the fire and hid among the foliage.

The boat changed course and headed his way.

“What do you hope to gain by going back?” he called out to Carbonell.

She stepped close to him. “First, we have to clean up your mess. Aren’t the bodies of two of your men still there? You apparently weren’t concerned with that. Or were you so intent on killing me you didn’t care?”

How did this woman read his mind?

“That’s right, Clifford. I heard what Wyatt said to you. I had a man on site, watching everything. You decided the smart play was to do as Wyatt asked and leave. Take me out. Once I’m dead, you’re in the clear since no one else knows of our… arrangement. Am I wrong?”

“Why are you attacking the Commonwealth?” he asked.

“Let’s just say that Stephanie Nelle’s dying would no longer be good for any of us. And if I manage to find those two missing pages in the process, my stock rises even higher. If you’re a good boy and behave, you can keep breathing. I might even give you that job I mentioned. And the captains?” She paused. “They still go to prison.”

He had to point out, “You don’t have those two missing pages.”

“But either Wyatt or Malone does, or will. I know them both. Our task is to figure out which, then kill them both.”

One of the men signaled to Carbonell, pointing toward the middle of the island’s flat topography. Knox looked, too. For a moment there was light, like a fire burning, then it was gone.

“You see,” Carbonell said. “There’s one of them now.”

HALE HAD COMMAND OF THE SITUATION. HE KEPT ABOUT A dozen crewmen on the estate at all times, each more than capable of defending himself. He’d ordered the armory opened, and everyone had been provided weapons. The thrust of the attack seemed to be centered on the main house and the prison. But at least four armed men were outside, in the trees, firing on the prison. Power had been cut, as at the main house, but this building was equipped with a backup generator.

“Shackle both prisoners,” he ordered. “And gag them.”

His crewman hustled off.

He was in constant radio communication with the security center. More crewmen had been summoned to the estate, and he’d decided a relocation of the prisoners to Adventure was the prudent course. He turned to the other jailer. “I want those men out front occupied. Pin them down.”

The man nodded.

He headed toward the ground-floor rear and a secondary entrance used to service the prison. It was built into the outer wall facade, invisible to anyone who did not know it existed. A man he’d stationed there half an hour ago reported all was quiet out back. With no windows and no visible entrance on that side of the building, he wasn’t surprised. Apparently, Carbonell had decided to deal with Stephanie Nelle herself. But he had to wonder. Was this a rescue mission? It was the only thing that made sense. Never would she draw this much attention to killing Nelle.

Things had changed.

Again.

Fine. He could adapt.

Nelle and Kaiser were carried from the cell, their hands and feet secured with tape, their mouths gagged. Both were trying to resist.

He raised a hand and halted their removal.

He stepped close to a writhing Stephanie Nelle and nestled the barrel of his pistol to her skull. “Stay still or I’ll shoot you both and be done with it.”

Nelle stopped moving, her eyes alight with hate.

“Look at it this way. The longer you breathe, the more chances you have to live. A bullet to the head ends things completely.”

Nelle nodded in understanding, caught Kaiser’s gaze with her own and shook her head. No more.

“Good,” he said. “I knew you would be reasonable.”

He motioned for them both to be hauled outside. One of the electric carts waited in the rain. Both woman were laid onto its wet cargo bed. Two men with rifles stood guard, watching the trees, alert to the storm.

All seemed clear.

The two armed men hopped into the cart.

He’d already told them to avoid the main road to the dock and use the secondary path, which was primarily for the farm equipment that tended the fields.

And to hurry.

The cart sped off.

He rushed back inside the prison. As captain, it was his duty to stand with his men.

And stand he would.

CASSIOPEIA APPROACHED THE BUILDING THAT HALE’S SECRETARY had identified as the prison. She’d learned from the terrified man that both Stephanie Nelle and Shirley Kaiser were being held there. She’d also learned that the building was under attack, so she’d approached from its rear, eastern side, staying in the trees, seeing no one so far. But that didn’t mean much. The storm provided excellent cover for both her and everyone else.

A door opened in the rear of the building. In the wedge of light that escaped she watched two women being carried out.

Her heart sank.

Then she realized the hands and feet were bound. No need to tie up a corpse.