CHAPTER 83
One month later, the cabin
Parker stood next to his truck, waiting for his visitors.
They’re early.
The small King Air twin banked over the lodge on the other side of the airfield as it turned the base leg and then entered its final descent.
It was another cold, clear, cloudless day. The hardwoods had all lost their leaves, leaving only the pines to hold the emerald-green color on the hillsides. With the end of deer season, it had become safe again to walk in the woods.
Parker turned up his collar and pulled down the orange-and-blue baseball cap close to his ears. The hat’s Day-Glo orange was a safety feature that helped hunters distinguish between a human and a deer moving through the trees. Even in the off-season, it paid to wear a little orange when walking in the woods.
The pilot stepped on the brakes as the airplane rolled up to Parker at the runway’s edge. James Scott was the first one out the door, followed by Moncrief. Another man followed.
“Well, Colonel, you got your color back.” Moncrief gave him a bear hug, which Parker happily returned.
“Welcome back,” Parker said to Scott.
“Hello, Colonel. And you remember Prince Ali bin Saud.”
“As sala’amu alaikum.” Parker shook the man’s hand, and then touched his own heart. “Your father is now the king?”
“Walaikum as sala’am, Colonel Parker. Yes,” said Prince Ali bin Saud, “my father wanted to express his thanks. And how are you?”
“I’m well, thanks. Recovering, anyway.”
“What about you and Clark?” asked Moncrief, direct as always.
“It’s none of your business.” Parker smiled. “I’ll tell you this much. We have another marathon scheduled.”
“Oh, yeah? Which one?”
“Oahu.”
The plan was for them to heal together, rebuild their strength, and then move on. Running was now in her blood, and she liked the idea. The Honolulu Marathon was now one of the largest races in the world. Given what Clark and Parker had survived, though, a marathon no longer seemed like much of a challenge.
“What about you, Gunny?” asked Parker. “Got some houses to paint, I imagine?”
Moncrief laughed out loud. “Like hell!” He cut his eyes to the prince, then back. “I have tickets for the Yankees!”
“I have something for you too,” Scott said to Parker. He indicated the red file and pointed to the hangar. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind, I need to borrow him for a second.”
Parker wasn’t sure what was going on, but followed Scott the few paces to the inside of the hangar.
“What is it?” Parker asked.
Scott’s face darkened. “The man who put your mission together in the first place? Well, it turns out he didn’t want to leave a trail. Exactly what he did is unnecessary—and illegal—for me to tell you. Suffice it to say that he murdered one of our people in Doha and then tried to take out both you and me.”
“Where is he now?”
“Supermax. The Alcatraz of the Rockies. For life.”
Parker shook his head. Death was a better option than Supermax. It was solitary until the day you breathed your last.
“This is for you, Colonel.” Scott handed him the blood-red folder. “I promised you the rest of the story.”
Parker opened the cover. The label inside was simple. Only one phrase in bold:
The Lockerbie Report
TOP SECRET
AUTHORIZED EYES ONLY
“Nothing held back or redacted,” said Scott. “Are you sure you want to read it?”
Parker nodded. “Yes.”