Berkley and Aidan met her mom Maggie at the hotel where they were staying, since Preston and Mary Beth were back in their home close to Aidan’s condo. “Change of plans,” Preston said when they stopped at the entrance. “Give your folks a ride and follow me.” Corbin got out and moved to the backseat with her mother.
“Where are we going?” Aidan asked.
“To dinner, only we’ve been invited to the Gremillions’. It’ll give me a chance to debrief you about today’s developments with Wiley there. It’ll also let you relax a bit before you ship out, at least more than you could in a restaurant.”
“I’m all for that,” Berkley said as her mom got in.
“Sorry we haven’t had a moment free since you guys got here,” Berkley said, glancing at her parents in the rearview mirror. “It’s been a crap show.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid. We’re here to sightsee, not bother you,” Corbin said, and she and Aidan laughed, knowing her father wasn’t much on the sights except for the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.
“We’re here because you never remember to call your mother,” Maggie said, and Aidan reached for Berkley’s hand and pulled on her fingers.
“We’re working, Mom, so we’re not ignoring you,” Berkley said, listening to the GPS to get them to Buckston and Danielle Gremillion’s home. “Once we’re done, I promise I’ll be in your kitchen having coffee every morning.”
“And we’ll leave our kids with you, so you can babysit every chance I can talk this one into taking me somewhere romantic,” Aidan said.
“You’ve been around my kid too long, Aidan, but I am a great babysitter,” Maggie said, and Berkley nodded. “I’m cutting you some major slack though, considering we’re spending the last of our time with you at the Gremillions’ place.”
“I don’t want to share you either, Mama,” Berkley said as she felt her mom’s hand on her shoulder. “Lately I’ve been thinking more and more about home.”
“We think about that too, kid, but right now I need you to keep your head in Chandler’s very sick game,” Corbin said. “I don’t daydream as much as your mom and sisters, but I’m looking forward to one more wedding, and to really enjoy myself, I need you back without a scratch on you. Either of you.”
They arrived, and she hugged both her parents before they went in. “I love you both, and I really am excited about coming home. I’ve been away too long, but it took me a while to find a girl.”
“I give you a hard time, Berk, but your father and I are so proud of you.” Maggie kissed her cheek, and Corbin followed with a tight hug. “You’ve got more ribbons and medals than your father, and they are so well deserved. Your grandparents and sisters are over-the-moon proud of you too.”
“Your mama’s right, in that you’re a great soldier, kid, but we’re also proud of the woman you’re going to share your life with. She reminds me a lot of this one,” Corbin said, pointing at Maggie. “She’ll give you hell for a lifetime, but it’s only because she loves you, and you’ll never be able to live without her.” Corbin’s very uncharacteristically sappy comments made her hug him again.
“Thank you so much, Mama and Dad. You two always made me believe I could do the impossible, and I just have to channel that for a few more months.”
“You okay?” Aidan asked when they all headed for the door.
“Great, and they love you, so I’d start getting used to her fussing. That not-calling offense goes for you too.”
“I know, and I’m taking notes. Eventually we’ll have more than one who’ll act just like you, and I’ll need pointers on how to handle them.” Aidan stopped her close to the car and kissed her.
“Get in here before someone calls the cops,” Wiley said from the door. “Though I admire you for keeping your hands to yourself on that carrier, Berk. If Aubrey was coming, I don’t know if I’d be that disciplined, even if they’d probably make me walk the plank if the powers that be found out.”
Berkley chuckled when Aidan blushed, and Aubrey showed up and dragged Wiley away by the ear. “Take a deep breath, and let’s get this over with,” she told Aidan. “The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can see what color panties you chose for today,” she said softly into Aidan’s ear, and her blush deepened.
Everyone exchanged greetings, then congregated in the large den for drinks before Buckston led them to his study, where Drew sat with a glass of whiskey and his tie off. Berkley knew Drew and the Sullivans were friendly, but she’d never asked for the whole story of how they knew him. The only important thing to her was how protective Drew was when it came to Aidan and her career.
“This can’t be good if you’re making house calls,” Berkley said.
“Buckston is still active military, but he’s also part of the NSA, so we meet regularly. That he’s also the father of the Black Dragon means we meet more often than I’m sure he likes, but I’ve been here before.” Drew stood and poured himself another small bit of liquor. “Today was enlightening, but it brought about some more possible answers that could help us.”
Berkley sat next to Aidan, and the others chose their seats around the room, with Wiley perched on the desk. “This is what we have so far,” Buckston said, standing next to Wiley.
“Today Wiley eliminated Kevin Skinner before he shot someone in the procession,” Drew said, and everyone seemed to be entranced by every word. “We can’t be sure who he was aiming at, but our best guess is the president was his target.”
“My partner Don Smith took out someone else, and I figured it was Booker Roman, the other suspect we thought could’ve shot President Khalid,” Wiley said.
“It wasn’t?” Aidan asked.
“His name is Brendan Sanchez, a young man currently in Carl Greenwald’s program,” Buckston said. “Carl’s group falls under my command, which means we speak often, and I’m probably more interested in this branch of the army than any of my other responsibilities, for personal reasons. Because that’s true, I’m familiar with his talent pool, and Carl’s correct in that Sanchez was talented and almost done with the training that would’ve placed him in the field within six months.”
“How did he go from promising soldier to wannabe assassin?” Aidan asked.
“We’re not sure just yet. Nothing in his background or his evaluations would’ve clued us in to this,” Buckston said.
“There’s more,” Wiley remarked.
“Of course there is,” Aidan said, and Berkley squeezed her fingers.
“As you reached the church, we spotted two more people, but only one with a long-range sniper rifle,” Wiley said. “That one Don and I wounded but didn’t kill.”
“Who was it?” Berkley asked, a headache setting in when she thought about the danger Aidan had been in when they’d been out there.
“Rachel Chandler and a woman who identified herself as Marva Brian. It was Rachel with the rifle, and she appeared to know how to use it,” Wiley said.
“I don’t think I’d ever seen any of Chandler’s children before we visited Jeffery in custody,” Berkley said. “That Dick has such a cooperative family willing to commit homicide for him is beyond the pale.”
“Since Rachel Chandler is an unknown entity when it comes to her talent as a shooter, we don’t have any way to know exactly who killed President Khalid,” Drew said, glancing at the liquor bottle as if he was contemplating another drink. “Thanks to Wiley, though, I doubt she’ll ever pull the trigger again.”
Drew handed over the pictures of Rachel and the shot through her shoulder. A few inches closer to her neck, and Rachel Chandler would’ve been a footnote in history. Berkley studied the wound first but then glanced at her face. “Wait.” She tapped on the picture. “We had our doubts, but this is who hit me on the head when those guys grabbed me. I gave a description, but it happened so fast it was hard to capture her likeness. This is definitely her.”
“You’re right. We had our suspicions but weren’t sure she was in the country. Ever since we found Jeffery, we’ve been trying to figure out how they got in without the border patrol knowing, but thank you for the confirmation,” Drew said. “Jeffery is now at Gitmo and being much more cooperative as he settles in. Once she’s stable, Rachel will be joining him there, and the only way they’re getting out is if we have to turn it back over to Cuba, which isn’t happening in our lifetime.”
“What now?” Aidan asked.
“Now we give you everything we have, and we deliver the president’s order to sail. You leave tonight,” Drew said, and the room seemed to have the air sucked out of it.
He placed the reports they’d need on Buckston’s desk. “I’ll wait for you at the dock, but I want you to enjoy your family dinner. That’s an order, so take your time.”
“What about Captain Umeko?” Berkley asked.
“It’s in the report, but you’ll have enough time on the Jefferson to get through it. Right now, don’t waste a moment you have with your families,” Drew said.
“Thank you, Drew, and thank you, Wiley. If you hadn’t been there today,” Aidan said, and stopped when Wiley nodded.
“Believe me. We’ll all need to stick together before all this is over,” Wiley said.
“Then let’s go eat and enjoy the night as much as we can,” Berkley said. “We can lay all this aside for the moment and enjoy the company of the people we do this for. Later on, we’ll pick up our swords again and fight the good fight.”
* * *
“Tell me,” Dick Chandler said. He stood on the wide porch of the house he’d built as a replica of the house he’d grown up in. The ranch in Montana that had been in his family for generations had always been his sanctuary—a place where he remembered listening to the stories his grandfather told him over and over again of a time when people were much more civilized. A time when people knew their place and didn’t want more than they deserved. They were satisfied with what their leaders and bosses gave them.
“They’re loading the last bit of supplies,” Dick’s contact at the base informed him. “From the activity around the ship, I’d say it’s ready to sail. The thing is, though, the crews aren’t just loading the Jefferson.”
“What do you mean?” The troops in his compound were performing the last training exercises for the day, and they appeared unstoppable. They were ready, had been for months, but the nervous tingle of excitement still went up his spine as he thought of the moment the combat would be real instead of training.
“It looks like some destroyers are accompanying the Jefferson, and that might be a problem if they know where you are.”
“The move to release Jeffery might’ve failed, but there’s no way he told them anything. His training was too complete, and I have every confidence in him. He knows we haven’t forgotten him, and we’ll rescue him when the time is right.” Some of his soldiers seemed to notice his presence and went at each other harder as if to impress him. “Stay on post, and call me if you notice any changes. From all the reports I’ve gotten, it doesn’t matter how many ships they send. They’re all headed in the wrong direction.”
“Yes, sir.”
He saluted the troops and went inside. The failed attack had been his idea, and Rachel had been adamantly set against it. In fact, her displeasure had manifested in her not calling him since he’d put her in harm’s way. She’d been right in that he’d allowed his feelings for his son to come before the mission, which he’d sworn never to do or even contemplate. He also would never admit it, and she’d have to accept that as well.
Most important, he had to make Rachel understand her job wasn’t finished. He pressed her number, and his anger ignited when it rang more than ten times with no answer. For someone who kept complaining about wanting more respect and responsibility, she was acting like a spoiled child.
“What’s wrong?” Robyn asked when he sat and placed the updated reports they got from the Pentagon on his desk.
“Have you spoken to your sister?”
“The day before we attacked. I haven’t heard from her since.” Robyn crossed his legs and tapped the heel of his boot with his index finger. “Is there a problem?”
“She’s not answering,” he said, trying her number again.
“Sir, this is Private Marva Brian,” the woman said, and whoever she was, she seemed to know him. “I’m with Rachel.”
“Put her on.”
“She was injured, sir, but she’s recovering. A call would’ve come sooner, but she’s in no shape to talk, and we were trying to stabilize her.”
Dick hesitated, not quite trusting anything about this, and until he was sure he hung up. “Who’s Marva Brian?”
Robyn moved to the computer and searched their system. “She was in the national guard, and Vander recruited her. Once he was killed, I guess Rachel replaced him with Brian. Why are you asking? This is a nobody.”
“The nobody answered Rachel’s phone and said Rachel’s been injured.” He pressed the phone’s antenna against his chin and considered the best course of action. “I thought we had protocol in place for that.”
“We do, so we should’ve heard from this bitch before now. What happened to Rachel?”
“Brian didn’t say. Who do we have left in the area?” He waited for Robyn to look so he could plan their next move, which would be to bring Rachel home. It was time to regroup before he gave the final command that would either destroy him or change history. “Locate someone trustworthy and find Rachel. I want her back here.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Robyn said, saluting.
“Do that, and then get ready. Olivia Michaels is sending who she thinks is her best into battle, and I want them crushed no matter where they sail to.”
* * *
Erin Mosley sat in the cell with her laptop on her thighs, filling out reports to use her time wisely while waiting. Jonas had ordered Jeffery Chandler moved, so he’d been relocated that morning and was probably already in his cell enjoying Walby’s company again and Cuba’s hot climate. Depending on how quickly Rachel Chandler decided to cooperate, she’d be joining her little brother for however long they lived.
“Agent Mosley,” the guard at the federal prison said. After what had happened at the facility where Jeffery had been kept, this time Jonas had chosen someplace outside the Beltway, so they were in Baltimore. “The director would like you to report in when you can, ma’am.”
Erin glanced at Rachel’s face, smiling when she saw her breathing change. “Thank you. If he calls back, tell him I won’t be long.” The relaxed appearance of Rachel’s features had changed from the drug-induced sleep of surgery, so Ms. Chandler was probably trying to covertly assess her situation.
Usually injured prisoners and detainees were placed in the infirmary, but this was a special circumstance. Rachel would stay in the cell with two locked doors between her and the guards until she was ready for questioning.
“You can go ahead and open your eyes, Ms. Chandler. This will go smoother if we don’t waste each other’s time,” Erin said, turning on her recorder. Joanna Barker was watching on the closed-circuit system, and she’d give pointers for the next time she sat with Rachel.
“Where am I?” Rachel’s voice sounded raspy, but Erin couldn’t guess what it usually sounded like since she couldn’t find a recording of her in their files.
“You’re in the FBI’s custody, and when you’re fit, you’ll be charged with the attempted assassination of the president.” Erin spoke louder when Rachel started to say something, not in the mood to be interrupted. “I don’t care to listen to your claims of innocence, so save it. I’m here to say that you’ll receive health care until you recover, and then your job will be to answer questions.”
“Do you plan to beat me like my brother, Jeffery?”
“Please, Ms. Chandler. You’re going to claim torture right away, considering you killed President Khalid in front of his daughters? Was that your genius idea, or your father’s?”
“The killing needed to happen, and if you were a forward thinker, you’d agree with that fact. Hate me if you want, but we won’t be talking about anything. All your little tricks will be a waste of time on both our parts.”
“That’s what your brother said, and we’re having a hard time shutting him up now. His reward for his complete cooperation was a nice room somewhere outside the United States,” she said, and smiled when Rachel glared at her. “You know, one of those places where the CIA guys won’t be hamstrung by all those pesky rules and laws.”
“He doesn’t know anything.”
“Touching,” she said, and laughed. “I would think you’d take your own wise advice. Trying to be the overprotective sister and convince us not to question Jeffery is a waste of time, at least on your part.”
“He wouldn’t have talked unless you did something to him, so save yourself any embarrassment by telling me he wanted to do the right thing.” Rachel winced when she moved, and according to the doctor’s report, she’d never use her arm again and would have a lifetime of pain. “Once my father realizes what you’ve done to us for no reason, he’ll stick your head on a pike and display it on the White House fence as a lesson to anyone else disloyal to America.”
“I’ll be sure to make time to worry about that later. I promise I will, since it’d be a real drag on my day, but right now we’ll concentrate on the fact you were trying to kill the president,” Erin said, not losing her smile. “Or were you aiming for the little girls mourning their father?”
“I’m so glad you think this is funny.”
Erin shook her head. “I’ll never find killing innocent women and children humorous. It’s an act of uncivilized people who believe in nothing.”
“I’m no different from the founding fathers who fought to save us from tyranny, you bitch. I’m a patriot.”
“Wow. Did you all practice that line? The first couple of guys we found made it sound so convincing. They were so passionate and believed in your great utopian society until they bit down on their cyanide pill instead of facing the consequences of their actions. You don’t exactly scream patriot when you’re foaming at the mouth.” She stood, and the guard immediately unlocked the doors. “Enjoy our hospitality for a while longer. I’ll have a television brought in if you like, so you can watch Jeffery’s court-martial. Every state has an opinion about the death penalty, but treason—the federal government still kills you for that shit.”
“I demand to see him,” Rachel screamed, and Erin rested her hand on the bars that separated them.
“And I’d like to know exactly where your father is, but no one seems to have that information. Right now, sharing it is about the only thing that’ll save you and your brother.” She started to walk away and hesitated when Rachel screamed again.
“I have rights.”
“You sure do, and one of them is to remain silent. As for the rest of all that, you can thank your father, since he was instrumental in changing the rules for enemy combatants. Under the new laws, you have the right to either talk or rot, but sadly not to an attorney.” This was the approach Walby and Joanna had instructed her to take. Only time would see if it would work.
“Any last instructions, ma’am?” the guard asked.
“Make sure you monitor the number of painkillers they administer. We don’t want Ms. Chandler dying of an overdose before her big family reunion. It would definitely ruin the touching moment.”