Eric Lustbader - Blood Trust

Time for rebuttal, Carson thought. “You and I both know it never would have come up, let alone been on the table. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Wilde had gotten too close. If McKinsey hadn’t acted, she would have blown us out of the water—”

“Murder of a federal agent. That’s a capital offense.”

“—and then where would we be?”

Crawford ran his hand distractedly through his hair. He seemed incapable of looking directly at Carson, but continued to engage his image in the mirror.

“This has gotten out of hand, Hank.”

“As far as anyone is concerned, Naomi Wilde is missing. We’ve neutralized her boss, there is no body. Calm down. We’re almost there.”

“The hell we are!” The president stopped, suddenly aware that he had raised his voice. “This has got to stop, right here, right now.”

“You know that’s impossible. We’ve come too far; we’ve crossed the line of no return.”

“I’m telling you, Hank—”

“Cheer up, Arlen, the Middle Bay audit is almost complete. When it is, we’ll have what we want.”

For the moment, the president’s eyes had turned inward, and when he spoke it was as if he was addressing himself. “There’s a line you promise yourself you’ll never cross, because once you do, all is lost.”

For the first time, Carson spoke sharply. “It pains me to have to remind you that we’re both implicated in the Middle Bay merger. If we don’t complete what we started—if we fail —well, it will be a pretty bleak future for both of us.”

Crawford’s eyes refocused. Leaning forward, he put his hands on either side of the sink. The skin on his face was pale and slack. Suddenly he looked ten years older. “God in heaven, what this job takes out of you.”

“There are a lot of people who wonder why anyone would want the burden.”

“Well, right now, Hank, I’m beginning to think they’re right.” The president sighed. “Okay, so what do we do now?”

“Clean up the mess McKinsey made.”

“Don’t speak that name to me ever again!”

Carson nodded. “As you wish, of course.”

“When you lie down with fuckers, you’re sure to get fucked,” Crawford said bleakly.

Carson offered a thin smile. “Leave it to me.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“You don’t want to know, sir.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Carson crossed behind the POTUS to the line of urinals, unzipped, and began to pee. “I’m going to cauterize the wound.”

Crawford opened his mouth, possibly to ask what that specifically meant, then changed his mind. Instead, he turned on the taps, pumped foaming soap from the dispenser, and commenced to wash his hands.

Carson watched him. Like Lady Macbeth, he thought. But the stink of guilt will never wash off, trust me on that. Finished, he zipped up and joined the POTUS at the sinks, washing and drying his hands.

“She’s going to be buried with full military honors.”

Carson coughed. “May I remind you, sir. There is no body.”

“And you better make sure there won’t be one.” The POTUS shook his head. “Damnit to hell, Hank, what’s gone right today?”

Patting the POTUS on the back, Carson said, “Buck up, Arlen, you just delivered one helluva speech that’ll put the African-American vote in the bag.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

“IS HE dead?”

“As a doorpost.”

Heroe closed her eyes. “Shit, shit, shit !”

“He got a name?”

“Agent Peter McKinsey, United States Secret Service.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Heroe looked up at him. The pain in her head was distracting her from what she needed to do. “Do I fucking look like I’m kidding?”

“Okay, okay. But forget about him, Chief, and just lie back,” the officer said. “I’ve called for an EMS evac chopper. I don’t want to chance taking you back to the mainland in the boat.”

“Officer, I’m on a grave with two bodies. One of them is McKinsey’s partner. I’m not lying back.”

“My God,” the officer said, “what the hell is this place?”

THE MOMENT the 737 hit the tarmac and taxied to a stop, Edon Kraja come up to Jack and said, “I want to get off here with you. I need to find my sister. I’m afraid something terrible has happened to her.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not possible,” Jack said as gently as he could.

Edon’s eyes welled up with tears. “You don’t understand. The chances are my father is going to sell her to Arian Xhafa.” The girl looked desperate. “Liridona is not like Arjeta and me, she’s the youngest, she doesn’t have the toughness. She’s vulnerable. She’ll crack wide open.”

“Come with me,” Jack said. He led her to the front of the plane, where they could be alone, and sat her down facing him. “Edon, I have something difficult to tell you.”

Right away she started to tremble.

“Arjeta has been found. She’s dead.”

“Oh, my God, oh, my God…” She was shaking, and her head started to whip back and forth, as if she could somehow negate what had happened.

Jack took her by the shoulders. “Look at me. Edon, look right here, into my eyes.”

Slowly, the girl did as he asked.

“It’s all right,” he said softly. “It’s going to be all right.”

“How?” she wailed. “How can it possibly be all right?”

The commotion brought Alli at the run. Jack looked up at her. “I told her.”

Alli sat down next to Edon and put her arms around her. At once, Edon buried her face in the crook of Alli’s shoulder. She was sobbing inconsolably. Alli stared at Jack.

“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “You have to let me go.”

“Alli, I have you to think about.”

“And I have Liridona.” She stroked Edon’s head. “Okay, I have a solution. Let’s let Annika decide.”

“What?” Jack was truly alarmed. “No.”

“Why not?

“Because it’s nuts to trust her judgment.”

“You’ve done it before,” Alli rightly pointed out. “Besides, when has she ever, ever tried to hurt us?”

He said nothing.

“You know she’d never let anything happen to either of us.”

In peace as in war sacrifices must be made, soldiers must fall in order for battles to be won. “In fact, I don’t know that.”

She cocked her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s unfair. I’ve never lied to you.”

“Let’s not talk about unfair, okay? I’ll have Thatë to protect me.” She looked at him steadily, and all of a sudden she seemed terribly grown-up. “Jack, you can’t protect me every second of my life.”

“I know that, but I can still make decisions—”

“From now on I’ll make my own decisions.”

HEROE RESISTED going to the ER, but she’d had no choice. They strapped her to a gurney and choppered her to Walter Reed, but not before she called the ME and gave him orders to get out to Roosevelt Island stat.

At some point, she must have passed out, because the next thing she knew she was in a hospital bed and Alan Fraine was sitting in a chair beside her. He smiled when he saw she was awake.

“You took quite a beating.”

“I gave as good as I got.”

“Better, I’d say. Much better. You’ll be ready to roll in a couple of hours. Just a few more tests—”

“Fuck the tests, I don’t need tests. How long have I been out?”

“A couple of hours, more or less.”

“Jesus. Any word yet on the cause of Naomi Wilde’s death?”

His smile quickly faded. “On that score, I’m afraid I have some bad news. The bodies of Wilde, McKinsey, and the unknown vic have been taken from us.”