Sal and Timmons followed Walter and Olivia’s tracks, all the while keeping an eye out for whoever was following them. Obviously, Walter didn’t expect anyone to be tailing him because he’d made no attempt to obscure the trampled brush and grass. “How did the Chantrys come to be involved with Russian terrorists?”
“Junior served in the Middle East. As far as we can tell, he came home from the service with a list of black market contacts and put them to good use. One of those contacts had connections with an ex-Soviet scientist.”
Another nod on Sal’s part.
“Junior learned about a shipment of HEU and made sure it would be diverted. He and his old man took possession of it and secured it somewhere, somewhere we don’t know about. That’s what this whole thing has been about, locating the HEU and getting it out of circulation along with stopping the plans from getting into the wrong hands. Calvin Chantry decided to cut the Russians out of the deal and sell the plans and the HEU to the highest bidder.
“If they’d pulled it off, the old man and his kid stood to make a bundle. They’d be living the good life while I slog along trying to make it on a civil servant’s salary.”
“Why do you keep doing it?” Sal asked.
“Because I believe in the work.” Passion rang through the agent’s voice. “My kids may never go to an Ivy League college, but I’m doing my best to make sure there’s still a world for them to grow up in. If this HEU and the attack plans get to our enemies, part of that world is going to go up in radioactive ashes.”
Sal’s respect for the man grew. He had his head on straight and his priorities in place. “You’re all right, Timmons.”
The agent gave a mock salute. “Right back at you. I knew you were the real deal when we first met. I wish I could have told you what was going on. In retrospect, I probably should have. But orders are orders.”
Sal understood, even respected it. As a soldier, he’d had to obey orders, some he hadn’t always agreed with, some he’d spoken out against. But, because he had taken an oath to protect his country at all costs, in the end, he’d done what he’d been told.
“None of this helps us find your lady, though.” Timmons lifted a hand to shield his eyes and scanned the unforgiving landscape of the marsh. “Even experienced hunters get lost in this.”
Sal thought it through. Olivia was smart. If she’d managed to escape from Chantry, she’d head for high ground. There wasn’t much high ground in the swamp, but the land elevated slightly toward the west.
It was all he had, so he headed in that direction, praying that he was right.
* * *
Olivia’s steps dragged. She had tried to reach higher ground to get her bearings. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another step, she heard it.
“Olivia.”
Sal’s voice. She turned to it. “Here! I’m here.”
“Stay where you are. We’ll come to you.”
“Walter’s out there. He has a crossbow.”
“Stay put. We’ll be there in a minute.”
We? Who was with him?
True to his word, Sal burst through the underbrush a minute later. He pulled her to him.
She held on. “You found me.”
“I’ll always find you. The only thing that matters now is that we get you out of here and to a hospital to be checked out.”
“No.” The strength of her voice startled her. “No. We need to find Walter, stop him.”
Agent Timmons stepped forward. “You know him best, Ms. Hammond. Will he keep coming after you or will he run?”
“Walter wants the money he and Calvin got from the Russians more than he wants to kill me. My guess is that he’ll cut and run. He has a boat at the marina. I don’t remember the name.”
Timmons pulled up the marina’s website on his phone. “Here’s the list of boats registered. If you saw the name, would you recognize it?”
The three of them scanned the list.
Sal seized upon one. “The Easy Day. The SEAL motto is ‘The only easy day was yesterday.’ That’s got to be it.”
Olivia grabbed his hand. “We have to stop him. Before he sells what he knows.”
He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Do you know how beautiful you are? Beautiful and remarkable?”
“You’re telling me this now? Now, when I’m covered with mud and muck and we have a terrorist to take down?”
“I had to.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. “Tell me later. After we’ve stopped Walter.”
“That’s a promise.”
Timmons worked the phone, filling in Homeland on where they were going. “Cavalry’s coming.”
They hiked back to where Sal and Timmons had left Jeppsen. “Stay with him,” Sal said to Timmons. “I’m going for Walter.”
Timmons started to object, then quieted when Sal shot him a hard look.
“You owe me.”
“I guess we do at that.”
Olivia laid a hand on Sal’s arm, stopping him. “Not without me.”
He shook his head. “Walter’s desperate. Look at what he tried to do to you.”
“I have to do this.” She wasn’t giving in. Not on this. She’d been held at knifepoint, shot at, tied up under a pier and drugged. She had to see this through to the end.
Another hike to Sal’s truck took precious minutes. Sal disregarded every known traffic law and pulled up to the slip where the Easy Day was moored.
“There he is,” Olivia cried.
Sal made it to the bow of the boat in three long jumps.
Sal and Walter squared off. Walter fought like the seasoned warrior he was. He knew every trick in the book. And then some.
He came at Sal, face twisted in a nasty grin.
Sal feinted to the left, drew his opponent’s attention, then came in low, kicking out with his leg. His foot struck its mark and hit Walter in the thigh. Such a blow could temporarily cripple a man, but Walter wasn’t stopped.
“Not bad, Santonni.” He bared his teeth in a feral grin and drew a knife.
Sal didn’t waste his breath talking. He needed every advantage he could get if he were to take Walter down.
“What’s the matter, hero? Can’t talk and fight at the same time?” Walter continued the same vein of trash talk.
Sal ignored it and focused on the goal. He didn’t give an inch, and neither did Walter. They fought with arms and legs, fists and feet. Bending his body backward, Sal used Walter’s own weight as he came at him, taking him to the ground, the knife clattering harmlessly to the deck.
Knee against his spine, hands clamped behind his back, Sal hunkered over the man who had tried to kill Olivia. Fury whipped through him, sent his blood to boil, his hands itching to wring the life from this piece of scum.
We’re not like him. Olivia’s words from under the pier where Calvin had held her captive filled Sal’s mind, and he felt the worst of the rage dissolve. He pulled Walter to a kneeling position and looked for something with which he could bind the man’s hands.
A muffled pop sounded.