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A couple days later, Jack was taking a walk on the pier outside his apartment at two in the morning. Ordinarily, whenever he was heading for his boat this late he’d bring a flashlight, but he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself. He’d received an encrypted message on his phone over an hour ago. The signal that he’d been sent useful intel that would help him through his assignment.
All he had to guide him through the dark were the dock lights and the moon overhead. When he got to his small motor yacht he looked back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed, then unmoored the boat and climbed aboard.
He made his way to the helm, turned the lights on, and navigated the boat out of the marina until he was out in open water.
It was a still night, with a chilly but gentle breeze blowing in from up north, the waves calm as he slowed the boat down to a stop. Then he reached underneath his seat and retrieved a small scrap of paper from his pocket. The same paper that he’d found in the gun case that had been delivered to his apartment days earlier. Another form of communication from his contact. Since it wasn’t all that suspicious for him to have weapon and equipment prototypes delivered to him, Jack sometimes received messages that way without any notice.
He checked the scrap of paper, taking in the phone number that had been typed on it. Messages were always typed. That way handwriting would never be traced back to anyone.
Adrenaline surging through him he reached underneath his seat, his hand finding the burner phone that had been stashed under there. By whom he didn’t know. The marina’s security footage always seemed to get damaged or go missing on nights when his contact reached out to him like this. Ordinarily he couldn’t abide that kind of breach in security, but these weren’t ordinary circumstances.
Jack dialed the number and pressed the phone to his ear.
Someone answered right after the first ring. “Name and code-op.” The deep voice was male, distorted like whoever was on the other line was using a voice changer. For all Jack knew his contact was an eighty-year-old woman.
“Jonathan Landry,” he replied. “Harpoon Operation.”
“Any details to brief me on before I begin?”
Jack cleared his throat. “I got into the Gentleman’s Club. Played a card game and won. Members trusted me enough to invite me off-site.”
“Any big fish?”
“A couple,” he replied. “Sidney Sturgess as expected, and Leo Monahan. The Monahan Shipping owner.”
“That’s a big fish indeed. He’s one of the businessmen you were going to be briefed about. We’ve been keeping an eye on him, and having someone with access to him and his associates is exactly what we need,” the voice said. “So, were you able to speak directly with Monahan?”
“I beat him in the card game,” Jack said.
A pause. “Was that...wise?”
“Trust me, letting a guy win brings its own kind of trouble,” Jack said. “Monahan respects strength. A chump isn’t going to be able to get his attention. I’m assuming you want me to maintain some kind of contact with him?”
“We do. We have reason to believe that Monahan is among a number of local elites who have been frequenting an office we’ve recently started monitoring,” the stranger said.
“An office?” Jack raised an eyebrow skeptically. “That doesn’t sound like much of a lead.”
“It’s the newly opened Florida branch of an international lobbying firm we believe is involved in the harpoon plot,” the voice explained.
“A lobbying firm?” Jack let out a whistle that was immediately lost in the wind. “Shit, how high up does this thing go?”
“Higher than we anticipated. This is much more than mere organized crime dealings,” the voice murmured. “That’s why your security expertise is valuable. You’re prepared for a vast number of scenarios.”
“Sure, but lobbyists? This is one step away from the government we’re talking about here. And what kind of lobbying firm has Monahan gotten involved in anyway?” Jack asked.
“The Arnold and Hill Lobbying Group is tied to the private transport industry, and has been turning its attention to shipping. They focus on deregulation. Pushing for legislation that benefits large transportation companies. Stopping transport safety rules. That kind of thing.”
Jack frowned and got up, moving to look over the side at the gentle waves below. “It’s messed up, but not illegal. How is any of this nefarious?”
“There’s been an increase in chatter. Arnold and Hill’s American offices have taken on staff that’s raised some eyebrows. The type of people who go above and beyond for their clients in the industry,” the voice explained.
“Above and beyond? What are we talking here?” Jack demanded. His contact seemed to love speaking in euphemisms and riddles. Likely for some kind of plausible deniability if Jack was ever compromised, but that didn’t stop it from being frustrating. He had always been the type of man who would rather not beat around the bush.
Another pause. Followed by a heavy sigh. “Arnold and Hill has international offices that it used to keep separate from its Washington D.C. bureau. Overseas, it works in places where the laws aren’t as stringent and authorities look away. We think that Arnold and Hill works outside the law when it can get away with it. So that means bribing foreign officials, stealing trade secrets from corporations, blackmailing rivals. We’re still working on proving it, but we believe they’ve gotten laws passed overseas through blackmail. They’ve also probably manipulated stock markets. The worst of it has been mysterious accidents involving important officials or foreign businessmen who sometimes end up in political prisons. Unfortunately, that more...extreme way of doing business is starting to creep in Stateside. Hence the concern for the new staff they’ve taken on. They’ve hired the kind of people who have no qualms about crossing the line for their overseas clients.”
“And you think Leo Monahan is involved with this firm?” Jack asked.
“Yes. As large as Monahan Shipping is, they’re not the kind of American company this lobbying firm usually takes on. Arnold and Hill is dirty, but they like to keep their hands as clean as possible in America,” the voice said. “What’s worrying is that, though this has also never been proven, Monahan Shipping might have been established with dirty money.”
“Right. There’s always been talk that Leo Monahan started his career as a low-level gangster,” Jack said. “If the rumors are true, I’d guess that the initial investment into his shipping empire was mob money. A laundering scheme that ended up being lucrative beyond his wildest dreams.”
“Astutely observed,” the voice said. “That makes Monahan Shipping the kind of company a respectable lobbying firm would shy away from representing. Those kinds of rumors are too much of a liability. Except Arnold and Hill has taken several meetings with Leo Monahan. The exact kind of client they’ve usually shied away from in America.”
“Something’s changed,” Jack said. “They’re expanding and bringing in staff. A shakeup of this magnitude doesn’t happen for no reason.”
“Precisely. Multiple changes in such a short time could indicate that the timeline for this plot is being moved up.”
“They could be activating the plot as we speak.” Jack’s insides churned. For the past several weeks he had been on this trail, trying to figure out who the major players in the conspiracy were and when it was going to be executed. All he had known were the basics. That the plot was imminent and had infiltrated Moonrise Key’s elite somehow. This new information was invaluable. It was another piece of the puzzle he was trying to solve. “What’s Leo Monahan’s connection to all this?”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know. What we do know is that he has met with the lobbying firm’s newest staff member, Walker Smith, several times. Smith used to work at a smaller lobbying firm before he was fired. The reason for the firing has been kept under wraps for years, and Smith went off the grid overseas soon after. Now, he’s suddenly back in America. At the same time a conspiracy is brewing.”
“Working for a shady lobbying firm and taking secret meetings with a shipping magnate,” Jack mused. “The timing is definitely suspect. Have you got a tail on this Smith guy?”
“Unfortunately we’re confined to Florida, and Walker Smith remains elusive. He flies out to Moonrise Key occasionally for business but is based in D.C., out of our reach.”
Jack frowned. That was one of the main problems with this assignment. Resources were relatively slim and the team was understaffed. “If he’s out of reach then we have to deal with what we can locally, correct?”
“Correct. Our options are limited, unfortunately.”
“So we’ve got intel that Arnold and Hill is probably masterminding the plot for an important client,” Jack said. “Which means you must think that Leo Monahan is that client.”
“That is our suspicion,” the contact said. “Leo Monahan wants to expand his shipping company through whatever means possible. And he may be willing to step outside the law to deal with whoever he believes is in the way of accomplishing that goal.”
“When I took on this assignment I thought I’d be dealing with some mid-level gang looking to score some money from these upper-class types to fund their operation,” Jack said. “But Monahan isn’t working with the types of gangsters he started his career with. This is a whole different level for him, and for me frankly.” Shadowy organizations weren’t Jack’s usual opponents. Terrorists, manic stalkers, and rogue mercenaries were much easier to pinpoint and deal with than the murky players of this game. Fighting from the shadows while relying on cunning rather than weapons and brute force was new to him. “Have you figured out exactly what the harpoon plot is?”
“We now know that the conspirators want to take out an inconvenient obstacle.”
“Take out?” Despite the cool breeze, Jack suddenly found it tough to breathe. “Fucking hell, you mean they want to kill someone?”
“We don’t believe that they would ever truly consider liquidation as an option. We suspect they want to temporarily eliminate this obstacle by other means.”
“What, like kidnapping?” Jack asked in shock.
“Possibly. They’re trying to remove a crucial piece off the chess board, so to speak.”
“You’d better hope you’re right,” Jack said darkly. “Because if you’re wrong and somebody actually gets killed—”
“It’s not your job to second-guess our intelligence,” the contact said, smoothly cutting him off.
Jack narrowed his eyes, his free hand lowering to grip the side of the boat. “It’s my job to give you my expertise. And in my expert opinion, when money and power are on the line nothing is off the table for desperate or evil people. Nothing.” Jack had learned that lesson the hard way. His chest tightened as long-buried memories threatened to surface.
No. This couldn’t get personal. This was about the mission. Not dredging up a past vendetta.
“Then it’s good we have you to rely on,” the contact said.
His jaw clenched. As far as Jack knew, he was on his own with this assignment. He was the only person out in the field, while his contacts got intel through hacking and sitting around watching offices from a government-issued van. Meanwhile he was cozying up to the worst kind of criminals. Jack knew that things could go very wrong during kidnappings. Hostages could be tortured, or killed, even after demands were met.
“Well, now that I’ve gotten into the club and met a key player, what the hell are my orders?” Jack asked.
“You’re to keep making connections with the island’s upper class,” the voice responded. “Find out everything you can about Leo Monahan’s dealings with this lobbying firm, particularly anything over the past three months. Learn what his exact plans are for his company, and what he expects Arnold and Hill to do to execute those plans for him. The more you learn, the more you’ll be able to discover who the target of the conspiracy is. If you have to get close to Monahan, then do so.”
“Easier said than done,” Jack said. “He’s not the easiest man to get close to despite getting in on that card game. I got closer to his daughter than I did to him.”
“His daughter? Was she at the card game?” the contact asked.
“Monahan tried to hand her off as part of his winnings.” Jack admitted. “He threw in her penthouse as part of the winnings afterwards. Sounds crazy, right?”
“It’s most unusual, but it might help us. Does the daughter know about his business dealings?”
Jack paused. Cassandra had said that she was preparing to take over the company someday. Which meant that she knew something about the business. But he had flatly turned down her request to mentor her. Jack knew he’d been an asshole to her when he’d walked away, but at the time he had bigger fish to fry than a stunning heiress’ disappointment.
“She might know a little, but she doesn’t have the best relationship with her father. My guess is he doesn’t trust her with that kind of information and she doesn’t know much of anything. And we’d be taking a gamble with her,” he said. “She’s much more of a wildcard than her father is.”
“How so?”
There was no honest way to answer that question. Cassandra was ten times more dangerous than her father because Jack was attracted to her. Playing a card game under pressure was easy compared to reining in his desire for a gorgeous blonde. Her closeness alone made it almost impossible to concentrate. Under normal circumstances Jack was in complete control of his emotions. In a situation like this, though, controlling his desires would take monumental effort. He’d have to be on the alert at all times. More observant than he’d ever been. Always prepared for the worst because, as long as she stirred his blood, Cassandra couldn’t be trusted.
If he admitted the truth to his contact, the whole mission might be pulled. That meant an innocent person would be in danger because he hadn’t kept his mouth shut.
“It’s hard to decipher what her motives are,” he answered finally, only giving part of the truth. “Plus I blew her off, so trying to get close to her after that will look suspicious.”
“Would it be possible to arrange another encounter with her?” the contact pressed. “Just to make certain she doesn’t know about the lobbying firm?”
“I’ll probably have to see her again when she makes arrangements to move out of the penthouse,” Jack said.
One last meeting with Cassandra couldn’t hurt things. He’d figure out his instincts about her knowing nothing were correct and then report back to his contact. Then he could devote all of his time to learning everything he could about her father’s alliance with the lobbying firm, including figuring out who the potential kidnapping target was. Cassandra would pose no more danger after one last meeting.
“Yes, question her one more time and then focus your energy on finding out what Monahan is planning with the lobbying firm,” the voice said. “In the meantime we will find out if the other persons of interest we’ve been monitoring are of any importance. We’ll make contact, but if there is an emergency you have your instructions. You know what to do with the burner phone.”
Jack did know what to do when the call ended with a click. Without hesitating, he hurled the burner phone into the water below.
~*~
THERE WERE FEW THINGS Jack hated more than an unannounced visit, but he had to gain the upper hand somehow. He strode out of the elevator and headed for the penthouse. After last night’s briefing with his contact, he wanted to get his interrogation with Cassandra Monahan out of the way. Over the years he’d learned that an unannounced visit put a lot of people off guard. Off guard enough to slip up and reveal things they shouldn’t.
He still doubted Cassandra knew anything, but he had to make absolutely sure. That was what he was telling himself when he stopped at the penthouse’s door. Even though deep down he knew he would have found any excuse to see her again.
Jack rang the doorbell and knocked on the door, waiting several minutes, but there was no answer. She was out. Of course he still had the keys to the place, but he’d come back later in the day. Deciding to take an early lunch, Jack turned to head back to the elevator.
“Jack Landry?” A tall bespectacled man carrying a briefcase stopped in front of him in the hallway and grinned. “I thought that was you. Long time no see.”
Pausing, Jack took a second to look the guy over. The receding hairline, bushy eyebrows and bow tie were familiar, but Jack still couldn’t put a name to the face. “I’m sorry, but—”
“You don’t remember me? From the mayors’ conference in Washington a couple years back. You gave a presentation about security and then demonstrated some safety drills the day after,” the man said. “Everything I know about escape plans I learned from you, man.”
“Yeah, I remember that conference.” Jack reached out a hand to shake the stranger’s. The conference was starting to come back to him. “Were you a mayoral staff member?”
“Hell no. I was with a group of agro lobbyists. I used to go by Francis back then, but my father and I had a falling out and...” He pulled his hand back to adjust his glasses nervously. “Anyway, everyone just calls me Walker now. My mother’s maiden name. I’m Francis Walker Smith, the friendly neighborhood lobbyist.”
Jack felt like he’d just been hit by a ton of bricks. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He was talking to Walker Smith. The same Walker Smith his contact had briefed him about. Jack was certain this was the same guy. It had to be. What were the odds of two lobbyists named Walker Smith being on Moonrise Key? There were no odds.
“Right. I remember. You were one of the volunteers for the demonstration,” Jack said, trying to keep the stunned shock out of his voice.
“That’s right. Man, you were such a badass. The way you disarmed the cop who didn’t see it coming.” Walker paused. “Kind of surprised to see you here. You’re not following me or something, are you?”
“What?” Damn it. Jack struggled to find a believable answer. Or any answer. Anything to keep Walker from knowing he was on to him. Anything to keep from blowing his cover. If Walker realized what Jack was really up to the whole mission would be compromised. Right when Jack had stumbled on a crucial lead. “No, I’m here to, uh...”
“Jack?” Cassandra’s voice.
She was stepping out of the elevator, walking toward him in the tightest red dress he’d ever seen in his life. “Dropped in to surprise me?”
“Ahhh, this is why you’re here,” Walker said, nudging Jack good-naturedly in the ribs. “Came to see your girl, huh? Lucky guy.”
“His girlfriend?” Cassandra asked, looking to Jack with a puzzled expression on her face.
“I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have this beautiful woman in my life.” Jack was not going to start sweating bullets. He knew the game, he just hoped Cassandra would play along with him. He couldn’t exactly blurt out that he wanted—no, needed—her to go along. If the lobbyist thought Jack was just here to visit a girlfriend then he would be none the wiser about being monitored. “Right. I was just about to tell my old friend Walker here that you and I were going to meet up for a date.”
“You did?” A knowing, dangerous little smile played about her lips. Those cat-like green eyes sparkled with something akin to mischief. “Funny, you never said anything to me about a date.”
Cassandra basically had him by the balls now. The entire mission rested on her forgiving him for blowing her off. Problem was, as her full red lips curved up into a wider, more devious smile, Jack had the sinking feeling that Cassandra Monahan wasn’t the forgiving type.
