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Killers and Keepers Page 2


  "No. Let's get this over with."

  "There's no great rush," Mary said. "We have the rest of your life to get to know one another."

  She was partially blocking my view of him, so I couldn't see what she did that made him scream. She waited patiently until his scream faded to a whimper.

  "Let's start over," she said, her voice soft, almost seductive. "My name's Mary. What's yours?"

  "What's your take on all that?" Mary asked, as we watched the body of my would-be killer sink through the clear, blue water.

  I shrugged. "You got more out of him than I expected."

  "Everybody has a breaking point. It didn't take long to reach his, thank goodness. I hate doing that. It's my least favorite thing. I don't mind killing jerks, but I hate doing a brute-force interrogation. Too bad we didn't have drugs."

  "Yeah, I agree. But that's not what I meant. I knew he would talk. It's the information that surprised me."

  "Which part? About their interrogation of Mike?"

  "Yes, exactly."

  Mike Killington was a retired Lieutenant General from the U.S. Army. Mike was a legend in the special operations world. He was also the founder of the little group within the Department of Defense that carried out assassinations.

  Mike moved on before the group — the 'department,' as we insiders called it — began its work. His replacement, another now-retired general named Bob Lawson, recruited me into the department as their first field operative.

  Mike and Bob were among the founders of a recently formed extra-governmental organization that took its name from Phorcys, the ancient Greek god. Phorcys was a potent deity; he was behind all the hidden dangers of the sea, and by extension in this case, hidden dangers in general.

  Bob also happened to be Mary's uncle, but that's another story. Mike and Bob were responsible for bringing Mary and me together, and for making us part of Phorcys.

  Phorcys, the organization, was committed to preserving the constitutional government of the U.S. Mary and I were their front-line troops.

  We spent the last few months eliminating some corrupt members of the U.S. government. After we blocked an effort by a foreign government to take control of our nation's voting data systems, we enjoyed a break for a few weeks. Now it appeared our break was over.

  "That was a shock, all right," Mary said. "Not so much what Mike told them about you, but just the fact that they interrogated him. You think that really happened?"

  "I think our boy really saw the video he described. That much I can believe. The story he told us about how he was briefed for this mission was a hundred percent consistent with the way the department works — the anonymous person delivering the briefing over a secure line, the videos of background information, all of that. Yeah, that happened the way he told us it did. I've got my doubts about the video itself, though."

  "You don't think they interrogated Mike?" Mary asked. "We've been out of touch; they could have captured him."

  "They could have, yes. And they could have interrogated him. But there's a glaring flaw in the whole story."

  "You think he was bullshitting us? After what I put him through?"

  "No, but I'm surprised he didn't see the disconnect when he was briefed."

  "What do you mean?"

  "If they interrogated Mike the way he described, Mike wouldn't have been able to mislead them."

  "I'm missing something, Finn. Help me."

  "Sorry. Remember my telling you that this man said his mission was to find out who I was working for?"

  "Yes. And then to kill you, but not me. He was supposed to leave me alone. That's what he said when we questioned him, too."

  "The glaring error is that we were working for Mike. If they interrogated Mike as thoroughly as our boy said they did, Mike would have told them we worked for him. There's no way he could have held that back; not with the drugs. You know that. They would have extracted all the information about Phorcys, and Bob, too."

  "Damn. I missed that. You think the video was a fake?"

  "It must have been. Nothing else makes sense."

  "But you said Mike was like a god in that organization. How could this guy not recognize him? He must have seen pictures of Mike, at least."

  "Oh, yeah. Mike's a major hero in certain circles; his picture is all over the place in the special ops world. No way this guy wouldn't have recognized him. I've heard of high-quality fake videos, but this seems improbable."

  "I agree," Mary said. "Putting aside the video, what about the rest of his information? You think he really doesn't know who replaced Nora?"

  "I believe him on that. I took orders from her for 20 years without ever meeting her or knowing her name — any name. She was just a voice on a secure line. Same with Aaron, but I've told you why I knew who he was."

  Aaron Sanchez was the intelligence officer who briefed me for my missions when I was working for the DoD. Although I wasn't supposed to know who he was, Aaron and I had a history. We served together early in our military careers, before either of us joined the department.

  During one of my early ops briefings, I recognized his voice. He recognized mine, as well, though we kept that our secret. After the department fell into corrupt hands, Aaron and I cut our ties with them. He was part of Phorcys now and provided mission support and intelligence for Mary and me.

  "That's why he didn't recognize Aaron's name, when I asked him, then," Mary said.

  "Right. To him, Aaron would have been another anonymous voice. But one that he grew to recognize, probably. That's how he knew there was a new intelligence officer in the department."

  "I see," Mary said.

  I nodded. "And that's another thing that doesn't ring true about the video he described. When they were grilling Mike about me and my background, they asked him about the last mission I carried out before I left the Army and joined the department. Remember him telling us that?"

  "Yes. What about it? Did he get it wrong?"

  "No, not wrong. He had the basics, but a big part was missing. Aaron was my second in command on that mission. That was when he got his throat slit."

  "And you saved his life."

  "So Aaron says. But the point is that Mike and Bob knew all about that from debriefing me and Aaron way back then. When they asked Mike about that mission, there was no mention of Aaron's part in it. He was a critical player in that action. They got the rest of it right, but they missed that.

  "I think somebody scripted that video based on the records they found. Aaron's role was expunged from the records, because he was doing undercover work then. Given the way our boy described Mike's interrogation, Mike would have given up that information if he had it. So that's another hole in the video."

  "Okay," Mary said. "You were right. We didn't get much useful from interrogating him, poor bastard."

  "Poor bastard? He was going to kill me."

  "Yes, but he was just doing his job, Finn. He wasn't a bad person; you said as much yourself."

  "Yeah. It was nothing personal, but he signed up to take the risk. Sometimes that's the way the dice roll. He was over-matched. It can happen to the best of us, and he wasn't one of the best. He fumbled when he let you double back on them."

  "That wasn't his fault; his man was responsible for that."

  "This guy was in charge, Mary. He owns the mistakes of his subordinates. That's how it works. Anyway, I'm glad we came through this intact. That's what matters. I'm not ready to check out just yet."

  "No, and I'm not ready for you to check out, either, sailor. What are we going to do now?"

  "Clean the boat up and go back to the BVI. We need to clear out with customs."

  "Where are you planning to go?"

  "We need to disappear. Once we're at sea, we'll change Island Girl's name and registration and take on new identities. These people don't give up easily."

  "I wish we had a way to get in touch with Aaron or Bob. Or somebody. I've enjoyed the holiday, but I don't like the 'Don't call us, we'll ca
ll you' way they sent us off. You really think that phone number won't work?"

  "I'm sure it won't, but don't worry. Aaron and I have a private way to get in touch. I'll get hold of him once we're clear of the BVI. Let's turn this ship around, then we'll get rid of the bloodstains."

  Our afternoon was busy. We sailed back into the BVI to secure departure clearance, but we didn't go back to Soper's Hole on Tortola. For all we knew, somebody from the department might be there watching for Island Girl to return. Instead, we visited Her Majesty's Customs in Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda.

  There was a good grocery store there, and we were short on provisions. While I took care of the paperwork, Mary went shopping. Wanting to get clear of the islands before dark, we wasted no time turning the boat around once we finished our business ashore.

  While we were ashore, we arranged for the marina at Spanish Town to return the aqua jet tender to the rental company in Road Town. Mary took the tender in and dropped it off, and I brought her back to Island Girl in our little inflatable dinghy.

  Once we were back on the boat, Mary went below and began stowing our groceries. I brought the inflatable aboard and tied it down on deck. When I finished securing it, Mary was still working below, so I hauled in the anchor and got underway. After an hour, she joined me in the cockpit.

  "What's new, sailor?" she asked, plopping herself down next to me behind the helm.

  "Not much. I haven't seen you for a while. Did you find us something good for dinner at the gourmet market?"

  "It's a surprise. It'll be done in 30 or 40 minutes. Can you wait?"

  "Sure. I wondered why you took so long to put the groceries away. I didn't know you were busy cooking."

  "I thought I might as well get it ready. You seemed to have things under control up here. Where are we going, anyway?"

  "I listed Grenada as our next port of call on the clearance documents."

  "Really? We were just there."

  "We won't go back just yet. I listed it for misdirection. The route there would keep us out of sight of land for a few hundred miles, sailing direct. If somebody's trying to track us using customs data, it'll be several days before they realize we didn't go there."

  "Okay. Where do you have in mind going, then?"

  "St. Martin, unless you want to go somewhere else. We should make it there by sunrise. If we clear in on the French side, there are a lot of places we can hide. And we'll have access to all the stuff that's ashore with no headaches."

  "If I had known, I wouldn't have bought so many groceries. That's a better place to stock up."

  "Sorry. It just occurred to me a little while ago."

  "No matter. Everything will keep. When are you going to try to reach Aaron?"

  "I started the process. He and I worked out our own private contact routine years ago. I sent him a cryptic text from a burner phone. He'll get a burner of his own and return it. We'll go from there."

  "Why not use the Phorcys sat phone? It's encrypted."

  "We may end up doing that. Given that we don't know what the situation is with Mike and Phorcys, I thought that might be risky."

  "So, if Aaron thinks it's okay, he'll call us," Mary said. "I'll go get the sat phone."

  I put a hand on her leg to stop her. "He won't. Not until we swap texts. Even if everything's okay on his end, he'll be worried that something's wrong on ours."

  "Wow. You said you and Aaron worked this out a long time ago. Was that before you both worked for the department?"

  "No. I've told you about how briefings and orders were all kept anonymous."

  "Yes, but what's that got to do with it?"

  "The first time he gave me an intel briefing, Aaron and I recognized each other's voices. When the mission was over, I got a burner phone in a package with no return address. Taped to it, I found a note. I was to call the number in the phone's memory and leave a short voice mail asking for a girl we used to talk about."

  "A girl? Who was she?"

  "When we were in basic training together, Aaron made up stories about an imaginary barfly. We called her Elena, but he was just setting it up so he could hear my voice on the voicemail to be sure I had the phone. Then he returned the call. We used that off and on over the years, so the others in the department didn't know we knew one another outside work."

  "What would they have done if they knew?"

  "I don't know. They didn't want anybody in the department to know anybody else. It wasn't a bad idea, from a security standpoint. If they realized Aaron and I had tumbled to one another's identities, they would have kicked us out, at the least."

  "At the least? What would the worst have been?"

  "I don't know. Maybe we would have disappeared."

  "You and Aaron took a big risk, then. Why?"

  "Aaron and I had already been through the mill. We had each other's backs in some ugly situations. We trusted each other more than we trusted the people we were working for."

  "Do you still?"

  "You mean, do we trust each other more than we trust Mike and Bob?"

  "Yes. That's my question."

  "The answer is yes, but that doesn't mean I don't trust Mike and Bob. It's a different kind of trust. Aaron and I have tested our relationship under fire more than once over the years. I don't have any reservations about Bob and Mike, but I don't have that extra little bit of assurance when it comes to them. I trust Aaron like I trust you. You're the only two people I trust to watch my back in the field."

  Mary coughed and blinked back a tear.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "That means a lot, Finn. I hope I never disappoint you."

  "I'm sure you won't."

  She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "I need to tell you something."

  "What's that?"

  "While I was ashore, I turned on my personal cellphone. It hasn't been on the network since we left Grenada. I got a message from my old broker."

  My heart rate went up. "And?"

  "And she has a contract offer for me."

  "I thought you were off her active list."

  "I did, too. I sent her a message reminding her of that. While I was working in the galley a few minutes ago, I got an answer. She said somebody asked for me, specifically."

  "But I thought you were anonymous to your clients."

  "I am. They didn't ask for me by name. They asked for the person who killed the O'Hanlons. They're offering $1,000,000 for a clean hit on a hard target."

  "Damn. What did you say?"

  "Nothing, yet. I wanted to talk to you about it. What do you think I should do?"

  "I don't know. Why would you go back to that world?"

  "I wouldn't, but I'm curious about what prompted the request."

  "Is there a way you can find out more? Like who the target is?"

  "I would have to accept to find out the target details."

  "How can you accept without knowing who the target is?"

  "You have to trust the broker. If it turns out to be way out of line, you can make a counteroffer. You have to offer solid justification if you do that. But for $1,000,000, most people in this game would hit anybody, short of a head of state. Maybe even a head of state, depending on the country."

  "Is it a too-good-to-be-true price, then?"

  "It's high enough to make me wonder, yes."

  "How long can you string this out?"

  "I told her I would be out of cellphone range for a few days."

  "Are you thinking this might be related to what just happened?" I asked.

  "The first message from the broker came in the day we cleared into Soper's Hole. That was the day we spotted the surveillance. Considering everything that's happened, there's at least a chance there's a connection."

  "I see what you mean. Anything else you need to tell me?"

  Mary smiled and squeezed up against me. "I love you." She gave me a lingering kiss.

  When we broke for air, I said, "I love you, too."

  "I should
go dish up our dinner," she said.

  "Oh, yeah. That," I said. "What's for dessert?"

  "Your favorite thing, sailor. Just be patient." She smiled and went below.

  I switched on the autopilot and set up the folding cockpit table.

  3

  As expected, we arrived in St. Martin at about dawn. Anchored out in Marigot Bay, we took hot showers and napped until the customs office opened. We were the first in line, so our arrival clearance only took a few minutes.

  We were back on the boat, sitting in the cockpit, munching on pastries from a bakery near the French customs office. Mary was pouring us coffee when my burner cellphone rang. She shifted her position and leaned her head close to mine so she could hear the conversation as I answered.

  Even though Aaron was the only person who had the number, I was still cautious.

  "Yeah?" I said.

  "I'm looking for Elena. She around?"

  I recognized Aaron's voice. "Elena? Nobody like that here," I said, giving him a chance to recognize mine.

  "What's up?" he asked. "You're still supposed to be on vacation."

  "Yeah, well, we've had a change of plans. We're both on the phone. You got some time?"

  "Sure. All the time we need. What happened?"

  I gave Aaron a detailed report of the attempt on my life. "We set them up," I said, in conclusion. "Mary interrupted their plans and killed the two minions. Then we questioned the team leader."

  "And what did you learn from him?" Aaron asked.

  I covered that with him, spending most of the time on the video that purported to show the department's interrogation of Mike Killington.

  "You believe what he told you?"

  "Well, he thought it was true. He believed that video of Mike being questioned about me, but what they got from Mike doesn't make sense. So, no. I don't believe it."

  "What about it doesn't make sense?" Aaron asked.

  "Given how thorough their interrogations are, if they grilled Mike, he would have told them I was working for him, or Phorcys."

  "Yeah. But you said that's why they wanted to question you — to find out who you were working for. Right?"