Джеймс Паттерсон - Private Rogue

“And you know about that how?” he asked somberly. “Never mind, I forgot who I was talking to. Go on.”

“A man claiming to be the father-in-law of one of the men on that aircraft hired me to track down his daughter. It turns out he’s an imposter who might be trying to use her as leverage.”

“Local intelligence says there were no survivors, Jack.” Carver’s tone could not have been more serious. “It was a massacre.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Secretary, but I believe there was at least one survivor. These men wouldn’t be trying to abduct my client and her children if her husband was dead.”

I barely registered the ease with which Beth Singer had become my client. She hadn’t asked me, she wasn’t paying me, but I felt ashamed of how easily I’d been misled and I needed to put it right. This wasn’t just about getting off the bench and putting myself on the frontline anymore. This was about protecting an innocent woman and her children.

“Why don’t you come in?” Carver asked. “Show us what you’ve got. We can protect your client, take down the bad guys.”

“That’s where things get complicated, Mr. Secretary,” I replied. “One of those bad guys might be in your department. The man who hired me appears to have a Pentagon connection, which makes me think that someone at the Department of Defense might have given up the mission in Afghanistan. Someone who is now working with hostiles to capture a US serviceman and his family.”

Carver whistled. “That’s a heck of an allegation, Jack.”

“I know, Mr. Secretary. That’s why I called you and you alone.”

“I appreciate it, Jack. But now I’m not sure who’s doing who the favor.”

“I’d suggest going through everyone who was cleared for the Afghanistan mission. Run vetting, full background and comms checks,” I said.

“Why don’t you help us work this from the inside?” Carver suggested. “A Department of Defense contractor.”

“I trust my team,” I said. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Secretary, but I don’t trust yours. It looks very much like you have at least one traitor at the Pentagon, and until we know if that’s true and who it is, I’d rather not take any chances.”

“Not even with me?”

“Not even with you, Mr. Secretary. With all due respect.”

“You’re a careful man, Jack,” Carver said, and I could tell from his tone that he was smiling.

“Wisdom earned from hard lessons,” I replied.

“Can I reach you on this number?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, let’s keep in touch,” Carver said. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Likewise, Mr. Secretary.”

“You be careful. And, Jack?”

“Yes, Mr. Secretary.”

“What do I have to do to get you to call me Eli? You saved my life, remember?”

“I remember, sir,” I said. It was my turn to smile. “Maybe if we ever share a beer it’ll feel more natural to call you by your first name, but until then I can’t seem to shake the habit, sir.”

Carver scoffed. “Good luck, Jack.”

“Thanks. And you, sir,” I replied, before hanging up.

I was alone in the living room, watching the blazing lights of the city in the distance. It was during these rare quiet moments that I sometimes questioned the life I’d chosen. I could have picked any apartment, any office, any bar, and found people who knew what each day would bring, whose lives were comfortable, certain. I wondered whether having lived a life on the edge, never settling, had changed me beyond redemption. Could I be happy with a comfortable, certain existence? Was my time in LA away from all this a sign I wanted out? But I hadn’t been entirely content there. I’d felt a gap in my life which had been filled ever since I’d taken this case. As I looked at the city and pictured the lives being lived there, I struggled to imagine Justine and myself ever slotting into anything so normal. Were we doomed to live life on the edge? Would she be happy with such an existence?

While I was getting philosophical, Jessie had withdrawn to the study to attend to some essential work. The New York office was one of Private’s busiest, and she was balancing her other duties with her work with me on the Singer case.

Rather than worrying about my distant future, I needed to focus on my next move. Sci, Justine and Mo-bot would dig up something on the man posing as Singer, but he wasn’t my prime concern. My main worry was Joshua Floyd. Beth and her children would never be completely safe as long as Floyd was at risk.

My new phone rang and Justine’s name came up on the screen.

“Hey,” I said.

“How are you?” she asked.

“OK. Safe.”

“And Beth and the children?”

“They’re fine,” I replied.

“You’ve got a call. Dinara Orlova from Moscow.”

I checked my watch. It would be after midnight there. “Put her through.”

The line went dead for a moment before the call was connected.

“Dinara?”

“Jack Morgan. It sounds as though you’ve been getting into trouble,” she said. Dinara had transformed Private Moscow from a deadbeat operation into a roaring success and it had done wonders for her spirit and confidence.

“Nothing new there,” I replied.

“We looked into the situation down south,” she said. I was glad she was being cryptic in case we had any unwanted listeners. “And there have been reports of a lot of unusual activity.”

“What kind of activity?”

“The loud and dangerous kind,” she replied. “The sort of heavy response I’d expect from someone who’d lost something.”

“Can you pinpoint it?” I asked.

“Yes. Some of my old friends have been very helpful.”

Dinara was a former FSB internal security agent with excellent connections within Russia’s intelligence community.

“Do you think you could have a team meet me there?”

“I can do that,” Dinara said without skipping a beat.

“Good. I’ll send you my travel plans once I have them.”

“OK,” she said. “You know, you’re crazy, Jack. I say that with the greatest respect.”

I laughed. “I’ll be in touch.”

She hung up and I waited for the inevitable.

“She’s right,” Justine said after a moment’s pause. “You are crazy. You told me you were going to New York for a run-of-the-mill case to ease yourself back into the field. Now you’re going to Afghanistan. Really, Jack?”

I thought Justine might stay on the call, but hadn’t wanted her to find out my plans this way.

“I have a young family with me whose lives will be in danger until this man is brought home safely.”

“But why do you have to bring him home, Jack? What is the point of having teams set up across the globe if you always go in yourself?”

“It’s too big a risk and I can’t ask other people to take risks that I’m not willing to take.”

“This isn’t about other people, Jack. This is about you. No matter what you achieve, no matter what you have, it’s never enough. You’re acting as if you have something to prove. What do you have left to prove?”

“I don’t know.” I said the words so quietly they felt more like an admission to myself. “Maybe it’s just who I am.”

“Is it, Jack? And what about me? What about us? One day your luck will run out. Time catches up with everyone eventually. The people who live a long life don’t try to outrun it. They outsmart it.”

“What other option do I have? There’s reason to believe the Pentagon is compromised. The DOD can’t even get a team into the country to investigate. I’ve served in Afghanistan. I know the country. I have the resources and the capability.”