Неизвестный - 06. Honor Under Siege

“Not necessary. I agreed to this meet under these less than optimal circumstances,” Henry said, “so you’ll believe me when I tell you that you need to come in. You’re in danger.”

“From whom?”

“From Roberts. The White House sent her after you.”

“Why?”

“They need a scapegoat. How long do you think they’ll be able to keep the attack on the president’s daughter quiet? Add to that they botched the assault on Matheson’s compound and let him escape.”

“He had help.”

“The country needs accountability, especially after 9/11. Someone needs to pay for that,” Henry said. “Washburn and the security adviser and a fair number of other people have decided it will be you, for starters. It’s out of our hands.”

“And if I come in?”

“We’ll help you get lost for a year or two. There’s work to be done elsewhere.”

“Convincing, isn’t he,” Felicia muttered. “Bastard.” “What’s the temperature register look like?” Cam asked. “There’s a three degree difference between them.” Felicia keyed Donaldson. “Can you distinguish the primary from the friendly?” “Yes ma’am, as long as they don’t move around too much.” “On my mark,” Cam ordered on the same channel. “Yes ma’am. Locked and loaded.”

“Who tipped Matheson?” Valerie asked. “We think he has friends in the Special Forces.” “Do we have a name?”

“Several possibles. I’ll brief you as soon as you are secure.” “Where do you want me to go?” “I want you to come with me now.” “Tonight?”

“If you go back, Roberts may lock you down and we won’t be able to extract.”

“What about my boat?” “We’ll sink it. It’s a good cover.”

“He came prepared.” Cam checked the digital readout on the electronic timer running in one corner of Felicia’s monitor. Henry had been on board almost five minutes. That was a long time for this kind of rendezvous.

“If she goes with him, he sinks the boat and she’ll disappear,” Savard said. “If she doesn’t agree to go, and he’s bad, he’ll sink the boat and she’ll disappear. Either way, he wins.”

“I need at least 24 hours to create a plausible cover with Roberts,” Valerie said. “I didn’t spend all that time getting close to her to lose my connection to her now. Even if I have to go deep undercover, I’ll still have a link to her.”

“She’ll never give you anything.”

“She already has.”

“What?” Henry’s voice rose.

Listening, Cam tensed. Valerie was playing a dangerous game. If Henry thought she already had important information, he might not let her go even if he wasn’t working with Matheson. If he was Matheson’s front man, all the more reason to take her now, or eliminate her.

“They’re close to identifying…”

Two miles away, Stark’s satellite image showed a new blip at the same time as Mac picked up a thermal flair five miles from Valerie’s boat.

“Christ,” Mac blurted. “It’s an SSM!”

Stark jumped to her feet. “Target?”

“Tracking!”

Stark grabbed her radio. “Hara, this is command one. Stand by to evacuate.”

“No!” Blair exclaimed, grabbing Stark’s arm. “What is it?”

“Missile.” Stark turned sharply to Mac. “Target. I need it now, Mac!”

Mac was already opening the comm channel. “Savard! Ship to ship missile, targeting Valerie’s boat. Forty seconds to impact!”

“Donaldson, mark,” Cam snapped.

“Roger.”

Cam switched to the open microphone on Valerie’s boat. “This is Cameron Roberts. You are targeted for a direct hit by an SSM. You have thirty-seven seconds. Evacuate your vessel.”

“She’s lying,” Henry shouted. “Stay right there!” “No,” Valerie said, “she’s…Henry, we have to…why are you drawing your weapon? There s no one…”

“Thirty-two seconds,” Savard called. “She’ll never disengage from Henry’s vessel in time, Commander.”

“Fire!” Cam ordered and Donaldson’s rifle cracked from just outside the cabin. Cam spun toward Savard. “Get us in there now.” “It’s going to get hot,” Savard noted even as she powered up the engine and shoved the throttle to maximum.

Cam didn’t answer, stripping off her windbreaker and vest as she ran from the cabin. She’d been wrong. They didn’t have thirty seconds.

Blair pressed close to Paula’s back, unconsciously gripping her shoulders. “What’s happening?”

“Time?” Paula shouted to Mac.

“Five… four… three… two… one…”

For a millisecond, the blip in the center of Paula’s screen doubled in size. Then it winked out.

After a minute of silence, Diane asked unsteadily, “Where’s Valerie?”

“We’ve lost the signal,” Paula said tightly.

“What about Cam’s?” Blair’s fingers dug into Paula’s shoulders.

Paula shook her head.

“Fine shooting, Colonel.” Matheson leaned against the rail of the boat, feeling a swell of satisfaction as a tower of flame climbed into the sky on the horizon.

“Thank you, General.”

“We’ve eliminated both problems at once,” Matheson said. “It’s time to rejoin our men and re-dedicate ourselves to our true mission. We have a war to win.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Is she… are they… Oh, God,” Diane whispered. “Get me a narrow-field, real-time image!” Paula ordered. She keyed her radio. “Hara, standby. Close the roads. No one in or out. Call in the backup units and position them on the shore and the perimeter.”

Blair realized she was still gripping Paula’s shoulders and forced herself to let go. She couldn’t move her eyes from the screen in front of her. She stared at the dark circle, willing an image to appear.

“Cam’s boat,” Blair asked hoarsely. “Cam’s boat should still be there, shouldn’t it? Paula?”

For the first time in her life, Paula ignored the first daughter. Renée was on the boat that had suddenly disappeared. The thought sent a momentary surge of panic through her and she went completely blank. Then, as if changing a channel in her mind, picture after picture snapped into view and came sharply into focus. Beirut, the Cole, the World Trade Center, the Pentagon. A field in Pennsylvania. Not one life. Not hundreds of lives. Thousands and more to come, she knew. And her part to play was here, today, and it would never be about one life again. Not even the life of the woman she loved.

“They’re there, somewhere, and we’ll find them,” Paula said steadily, because she had to believe it. “Mac, get me a picture of what’s going on out there and an open line to Renée Savard.”

“Yes ma’am,” Mac said, his voice rough with strain. “I’ll do that.”

“There’s debris in the water,” Savard shouted over the roar of the engine.

Cam leaned over the railing, narrowing her eyes against the icy spray and staring at the shiny black surface of the water. “Who’s got the wheel?”

“Donaldson. I need to be out here.” Savard raised the radio cradled in her hand. “I’ll direct him.”

Cam didn’t argue. She doubted she could get Savard to go back inside, and she didn’t have the time or inclination to persuade her. One hundred feet in front of them a geyser of flame spouted into the air, the engine fuel from Valerie’s and Henry’s boats burning. She should have expected something like this. Matheson would be a fool to leave a weak link like Henry alive, and Matheson was no fool. Henry had underestimated him, and so had she. She would not let Valerie pay for her miscalculation. She kicked off her shoes, shrugged out of her holster, pulled her badge off her belt, and pushed everything into a bench locker.