Allison Brennan - Fear No Evil

“You’d let him go to kill again?” she spat out.

“It doesn’t have to be either/or. But the most important thing is to save Lucy. Or do you not agree?”

She stared at him, eyes wide. He saw when she realized what she had been saying. “Of course I agree,” she said quietly, looking down.

Kate finished her preflight check. They started moving forward, rapidly increasing speed. The plane bumped and bucked on the uneven runway. Dillon had no problem with flying, but he couldn’t see anything. The plane’s lights only lit up the ground immediately in front of him.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

“I’ve flown this plane a dozen times.”

“But there’s a cliff-”

“I know.” They were going faster.

Suddenly the ground gave way. They were airborne. Kate made a sharp turn to the right, turning a full 180 degrees. She checked her instruments as they continued to ascend.

“We don’t have oxygen on board,” she said, “so I’m going to keep it under twelve-five.” She glanced back at Jack. “Red Rock?” she said, skeptical.

He nodded. “Straight as an arrow. When you hit the Nevada border, wake me.”

“It’ll take six hours.”

“I haven’t slept in two days.” He closed his eyes.

“What’s your plan?” Dillon asked Kate.

“I had planned on meeting Trask at a campground near Mount Baker, until I got the second coordinates. They’re nearly two hours apart. I was going to check out the island first, but now that you’re here you and your brother can go to the island and I can meet Trask on the mountain. It actually works out better.”

Dillon shook his head. “You care about one thing. Killing Trask. Jack and I care about saving Lucy. If he brings her to the mountain, I want Jack there. And if she’s on the island, I’ll be there.”

“Trask isn’t going to screw with me. Not on this. I told him I wouldn’t come unless he took her off-camera. Remember when Denise went on? He stood by his word.”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Dillon asked.

She couldn’t answer that.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re coming to the island with me.”

“How can you think I would jeopardize her life?” Kate felt sick to her stomach. Maybe she deserved it.

“Because I think you are so blinded by revenge that you can’t see the whole picture. I also think we should call Peterson.”

“No,” Jack and Kate said in unison.

Dillon glanced at his brother. “I thought you were sleeping.”

Jack opened his eyes and leaned forward. “I think Kate is a wack-job, but she’s right about this.”

“Thank you,” Kate said sarcastically.

Jack continued. “This bastard so much as smells a fed, Lucy’s dead. I know men like Trask. They have a sixth sense when it comes to the authorities.”

“We can’t act like a bunch of vigilantes. The FBI has resources, surveillance, and equipment. Manpower. I’ve worked with SWAT. They can come in low and quiet and no one will know they’re there.”

“They’re not going to believe me anyway,” she said. “Especially after the trap your brothers walked into.”

“But Trask contacted you,” Dillon said.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s my word they don’t trust.” Kate glanced at him, the green glow from the controls and gauges giving her face an odd, ethereal presence. “I’m surprised you even trust me. I almost got your brothers killed.”

“Connor and Patrick are grown men. They did what they thought was right. And you were right about the trap,” Dillon said. “You warned them.”

“And this could be another trap. And another. If it weren’t for the second set of coordinates I don’t think-” She paused. Full disclosure. “I think they have an undercover agent inside Trask’s operation.”

“What?” Dillon exclaimed. “How can that be? Lucy was raped . They couldn’t possibly allow that.”

“Normally, I’d think not, but you’re forgetting that Trask killed two federal agents. They want him as badly as I do.” Kate stared at Dillon. “I’m the one who had to run from my country, blamed for Paige’s death, yet the powers that be can infiltrate Trask’s network and Lucy becomes collateral damage as long as they take down the organization.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Believe it,” she said. “That FBI code is definitely in-speak. Possibly an agent who turned, or undercover. I think the latter. Because I recognized the man onscreen before Trask pulled Lucy.”

Dillon shook his head. “This is ridiculous. A conspiracy theory run amok.”

Kate looked at Jack. He agreed with her, she could see it in his eyes. “Jack agrees with me.”

“Nothing surprises me,” he said calmly.

Kate frowned. Maybe Dillon was right. How could she go into this alone? She felt like she was covering her ass, wanting to call Quinn Peterson and give him the information. So that when Lucy died she wouldn’t feel guilty.

Nothing could stop her from feeling guilty.

“We’ll call Peterson when we’re in Red Rock,” Kate said. “Give him the information. But I don’t think anyone in the Bureau is going to believe me anymore. I’ve sent them out on too many wild-goose chases.”

“But Peterson must know about the undercover agent.”

“Maybe, by now, but there’s something very odd about this setup. The FBI doesn’t handle clandestine missions like this, jeopardizing civilians. And even if a civilian was in jeopardy and the agent couldn’t save her, there would be some mechanism to know where the agent is. Like a GPS microchip implanted under the skin.”

Jack snorted from the rear of the plane.

Kate ignored him. “Trask has been playing me for a long time,” Kate admitted, the realization terrifying and angering her. “This time I know he’s there. But I feel like the girl who cried wolf.”

Dillon put his hand over hers. “No one is going to die. Not Lucy, not you.”

She wished she believed him.

He forced her to look at him. She flushed under the intensity of his gaze. “I mean it, Kate. We’re going to find Lucy and everyone is walking away alive.”

QUINN PETERSON GLANCED at the clock. Three fifteen in the morning. Six fifteen on the East Coast. Late enough to rouse his pal Hans Vigo from sleep.

“What?” Vigo asked.

“I need you to dig around for me.”

“It can’t wait?”

“No.”

He moaned. “Okay, what?”

“Merritt has an undercover agent with Trask.”

Vigo was silent. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“For how long?”

“Longer than he’s had Lucy Kincaid.”

“Fuck.”

“You can say that again.”

“Fuck. What do you want?”

“Who, what, when, and how.”

“Why?”

“I know why.”

“Paige.”

“Bingo.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Who do you trust up north?”

“No one.”

“Seriously.” Quinn tried to sound lighthearted, but failed.

“I am serious. Exactly where?”

“I need someone to interview Charles Morton. My records show him living in Boston.”

“Boston. Abigail Resnick.”

“I’m going to e-mail you a list of names. Kids who went to school with Charles Morton’s son nearly two decades ago. What I need is for him to identify anyone Roger Morton was close to.”

“Roger Morton, as in the man who raped Paige Henshaw and killed Evan Standler?”

“That’s him.”

“You’re going to get fired. I have seniority, I’ll probably just get my ass kicked and demoted to the basement to read cold case files. But you? You’re already on the hot seat for working off-the-clock on the Butcher investigation.”