Just get me on the ground.
KNOX STOOD ABOVE THE DECAYED HALL AND STARED DOWN from the wall walk at Wyatt and Carbonell. He’d heard Wyatt when he told her that the lost pages waited below, in the dark chasm through the floor. He watched as Wyatt secured a rope to one of the pillars that had once supported the roof. Wyatt had descended first, then Carbonell. A light had switched on below, then faded. Should he follow, or just wait for them to return? What if there was another way in or out?
He thought of his father, the legendary quartermaster.
A wave of shame swept over him. He’d sold out. Done the one thing his father never would have done.
His father had, in fact, accomplished the impossible.
He’d killed a president.
John Kennedy acquired the White House thanks to a coalition that his own father, Joe, secretly forged. It involved political bosses, labor unions, and organized crime. Quentin Hale’s father had been close with Joe and made a deal with the Kennedys. Agree to honor the letters of marque once you’re in the White House, and the Commonwealth will deliver money and votes.
Which it did.
But all of that camaraderie was forgotten after the election.
The Kennedys turned on everyone, including the Commonwealth. Labor and the mob were at a loss as to what to do.
Not so the captains.
They recruited an inept Russian defector named Lee Harvey Oswald to assassinate Kennedy, then had the terrific good fortune of Jack Ruby murdering Oswald.
No trail led anywhere.
Conspiratorialists had theorized for decades as to what really happened, and they would for decades more. But no one would ever know the truth. His father had been a true quartermaster.
Loyal to the end.
Maybe it was time he acted like one again, too.
He’d need a light.
He carried no flashlight, but one was upstairs, lying beside the two corpses.
He headed that way.
CASSIOPEIA ACCEPTED THE PHONE FROM HALE THROUGH THE bars.
“Make this short and convincing,” he said to her. “Just a nod of my head and she loses a finger.”
She snatched the unit from his grasp and dialed the number she’d memorized. Edwin Davis answered on the second ring.
“What’s happening there?” he asked.
“All is good. But I haven’t located Stephanie or Kaiser. This is a big place.”
“The shooting we heard?”
Hale clearly thought that the men who’d come were connected to her. After all, they’d arrived at the same time. Of course that was false, but on hearing that connection Davis might get the message.
“Our men made a mess of things,” she said. “They shot up the place, but ended up dead. The tactic didn’t work. I’m okay. Looking around, but the place is full of activity.”
“Get out.”
“I will. Shortly. Right now, I want a little more time. Sit tight.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You’re not here and I am. We’ll do this my way.”
A pause. Then, Davis said, “All right. Your way. For a little while longer.”
She ended the call.
“Excellent,” Hale said. “Even I believed you. Who was that?”
She kept silent.
Hale raised a hand, as if to say, One drop and her finger’s gone.
“NIA special agent. He’s in charge here. The men were ours, too, as you already know.”
Hale smiled. “Where’s Andrea Carbonell?”
“That I don’t know. She doesn’t check in with me. She gave us orders, we followed them.”
A man entered from outside armed with an automatic rifle and hustled over to Hale. He whispered something to his captain, then withdrew.
Hale relieved her of the phone. “A slight problem. The storm is passing, but a fog has settled in. The Pamlico is infamous for its fogs. This one will delay our departure for a short while.”
“Where are we going?” Stephanie asked.
“As I mentioned to you earlier, a sail on the Atlantic.”
Cassiopeia watched the doctor. Shirley wasn’t resisting as much since the call had been made and Hale seemed satisfied.
“More killing on the high seas?” one of the other captains asked Hale.
“Edward, I would not dare hope for you to understand. Soon our letters of marque will be irrefutable and all will be right with our world again. These three ladies are no longer useful toward that result.” Hale turned to Cassiopeia and Stephanie. “You must know that?”
“We have your man in Virginia,” Cassiopeia said. “In custody.”
She was hoping that might slow him down.
Hale shrugged. “Tomorrow our lawyers will visit him. He knows that he will be protected so long as his lips stay sealed. Nothing will lead here.”
She’d suspected as much, as had Edwin Davis.
“What man in Virginia?” one of the other captains asked.
“A loose end that had to be plugged, thanks to you three’s stupidity.”
“You’re going to regret having guns pointed at me,” another of the captains said.
“Really, Charles? What do you plan to do? Grow a backbone?” He turned back toward Cassiopeia. “So you’ll know, I had nothing to do with trying to kill Danny Daniels. That was their undertaking entirely. Foolishness.”
“And this is smart?” the captain named Charles asked Hale.
“This is necessary. Two of my crew are dead.”
Hale turned toward Shirley.
“No,” Stephanie yelled.
Hale nodded.
And bone snapped.
EIGHTY
WYATT KEPT CARBONELL AHEAD OF HIM AND ALLOWED THE flashlight beam to lead the way. Water in the chamber was rising, now almost shin-high, the tide definitely coming in. He and Malone had caught it at its lowest. Carbonell was her usual cocky self, oblivious to the real danger, confident that her men would follow and watch her back.
“Is this where the British prisoners died?” she asked.
“No doubt.”
“This water is cold.”
“It won’t be long.”
He followed the same path he and Malone had explored, heading for the convergence of the three tunnels where the symbols awaited.
They found the Y-junction.
With his light he pointed out the four symbols ringing the walls and the fifth centered in the ceiling.
“Incredible,” she said. “It’s hidden here?”
Water poured from the chutes that opened about three feet off the floor. Salt foam formed, then dissipated, but the flow remained constant. Another set of chutes awaited at the six-foot point.
“The fifth symbol is high for a reason,” he said. “What we’re looking for is behind that top stone.”
“How do you plan to get to it?”
“I don’t.”
KNOX ADVANCED WITH CAUTION, CAREFUL NOT TO SLOSH THE nearly knee-high water, which appeared to be rising. He’d found the flashlight near the bodies in the fort’s upper level and was keeping the beam down since Wyatt and Carbonell were ahead of him.
He could hear them talking, beyond a bend twenty feet away.
He switched off the light and crept forward.
CASSIOPEIA KNELT WITH STEPHANIE BESIDE SHIRLEY KAISER, who remained in shock, her wound sutured and bandaged by the doctor. He’d also given her a shot for pain.
“I don’t want you to think me a barbarian,” Hale had told them.
They’d watched as Kaiser’s middle finger had dropped to the floor, her eyes alight with shock, her screams muffled by the tape across her mouth. Both she and Stephanie had felt her agony. Luckily, Shirley had passed out.
“She’s still dazed,” Stephanie said. “Do you think Edwin got your message?”
She realized that Stephanie would catch the lie she’d cultivated with Davis.
“Trouble is, Edwin is a cautious soul,” Stephanie said.
&nbs
p; Not when it came to Pauline Daniels, Cassiopeia thought. Hopefully, he’d be equally as impetuous here.
“President Daniels is concerned about you,” she told Stephanie.
“I’m okay.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
She saw that Stephanie caught the irritation in her voice.
“What did he say to you?” Stephanie asked.
“Enough.”
“I assure you, I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“There are a lot of people saying the same thing. Yet we have all these problems.”
“What do you mean by that?”
She wasn’t going to breach Davis’ or Pauline’s confidence, so she said, “Stephanie, the Daniels’ marriage is a disaster. Obviously, you and the president have been speaking about that. Enough that he feels a connection with you. He told me that he thinks you feel the same. Is that true?”
“He said that?”
“Only to me. And there were good reasons to express it.”
Shirley moaned. She was coming around.
“That hand is going to hurt when she wakes up,” Stephanie said.
She waited for an answer to her question.
Stephanie cradled Shirley’s head in her lap as they sat on the cell floor. Hale and the captains were gone, as were all of the crewmen. The earless corpse had been dragged outside. They were alone, locked away, waiting for the fog to clear before they left.
“I don’t know what to think,” Stephanie quietly said. “All I know is that I think about him more than I should.”
The makeshift prison door opened and Hale entered.
“Good news. We’re off.”
MALONE BURST FROM THE VEHICLE AS IT STOPPED IN THE DARK near a boat ramp at the end of a wet, sandy trail. Only a light misty rain fell, the sky overhead clearing to reveal scattered stars. Dawn was less than an hour away. It had been a long night and he’d caught only a short nap on the plane, his mind churning with fear over Cassiopeia and Stephanie.
“What have you heard?” he asked Davis, who waited beside an SUV.
“She called about an hour ago.”
He knew that was required in order to buy more time, but he caught the reservation in Davis’ tone.
“She gave me false information. Implied that the men who were attacking the place were ours.”
“You think the call was forced?”
“Probably. We still have no probable cause for anything, except what Cassiopeia reported, which we can’t use since she’s there illegally.”
He knew what the Fourth Amendment provided, but screw the Constitution. “We need to act.”
“You’re our only move.”
He realized this man had more to consider than just Cassiopeia.
“There’s a fog out over the water that’s spread inland to the north shore. It stretches downriver a few miles, toward the sea. Not uncommon, I’m told, this time of year.”
“Great cover to use to get onto that estate.”
“I thought you might feel that way.” Davis pointed toward the darkened river and the concrete ramp.
“There’s a boat waiting for you.”
WYATT SENSED THAT SOMEONE ELSE WAS NEARBY. HE’D CAUGHT only the faintest hint of water splashing, but instinct told him Knox had followed them.
Two birds with one stone?
Was that what the quartermaster was thinking?
HALE WAS BOTH PLEASED AND CONCERNED. HE’D CONTAINED the intruders and thwarted a prison break, but the extent of his problem in Virginia had yet to be ascertained. Vitt’s statement that they had a man in custody, if true, could be troublesome. He’d already called lawyers and told them to investigate. He’d also heard no more from Knox in Nova Scotia. Thankfully, the three other captains had left. He’d severed Kaiser’s finger because his men, his equals, and his enemies had to know that he was someone to fear.
He watched as Nelle and Vitt helped Kaiser into the bed of a wet pickup truck. Four armed crewmen joined them. A contingent of six more would follow in another truck.
“To the dock,” he called out.
MALONE NAVIGATED THE TWELVE-FOOT V-HULL THROUGH THE short, blunt-shaped waves of a tossing Pamlico River. Finally, he encountered the fog and kept a bearing due east toward a dock that should extend a couple of hundred feet from the north shore. The storm had subsided, the wind and rain gone, but the river continued to churn. He’d been told it was about two miles across and he estimated that he’d gone just about that distance.
He checked his watch.
5:20 AM.
A bright glow through the mist to the east signaled dawn on the horizon.
He shifted to neutral and drifted, lightly working the throttle on and off to compensate for a swift current that drew him back toward the river’s center and east to the sea.
A nest of blurred lights sparked ahead.
Four arranged in a row.
He shut off the outboard and listened.
Davis had told him about Adventure. A two-hundred-foot-plus, state-of-the-art sailing sloop. The ship’s outline appeared ahead, and he heard activity on the deck. Men shouting.
Swells drove him closer.
He could not strike the hull.
More activity seemed to be happening beyond the ship, toward shore, perhaps on the dock. Jouncing beams of light stabbed the dark. Two together, like headlights. Nothing could be seen clearly, the fog masking reality, as if he were viewing the dark world through a smoky bottle.
He gripped his gun and shifted the outboard into gear, keeping the throttle barely out of neutral, easing closer.
He found the hull and angled left, following the waterline.
An anchor chain appeared, apparently used for stabilization even while docked, which made sense given the river’s strong current.
Above him stretched fifty feet of thick, wet chain.
He could do it, but he needed to know something.
He spun the wheel hard to port and shifted the throttle into neutral. Immediately the boat drifted away. Satisfied as to the current’s direction, he reengaged the throttle and gave himself a gentle nudge forward. He stuffed the gun between his belt and waist, switched off the engine, then grabbed the wet links above him and climbed.
He glanced back and watched the current grab the boat as it disappeared into the night.
Only one way left to go now.
EIGHTY-ONE
NOVA SCOTIA
WYATT WAITED FOR ANDREA CARBONELL TO PROCESS HIS DEFIANT stand. The face displaying the fifth symbol was only a few feet above his head. Wide mortar lines outlined the stone’s odd shape. The builders of this foundation chamber had used many irregular stones, carefully fitting them into place with mortar. It wouldn’t take much to break this one away—a hammer and chisel, or maybe a crowbar.
“What do you plan to do?” she asked him, a gun still in her hand.
“Is your entire life one scheme after another?” He truly wanted to know.
“My life is about survival. As is yours, Jonathan.”
“You’ve manipulated yourself all the way to this point. People have died. Do you care? Even a little?”
“I do what I have to do. Again, just like you.”
He resented the equating of herself to him. He was a lot of things, but he was not like her in anyway. He held the light down, the beam illuminating the rising seawater. He noted that the lowermost chutes were now submerged.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
“Our guest to arrive.”
“Did you hear them, too?” she asked.
He caught the plural them. “That’s not your men coming. I killed them both.”
She raised her gun.
He switched off the flashlight, plunging the chamber into total darkness.
A loud retort echoed off the stones, which pounded his eardrums.
Then another.
He’d shifted position, assuming she would fire at where he’d been the moment dark
ness arrived.
“Jonathan, this is madness,” she said through the blackness. “Why don’t we just make a deal? One or both of us is going to get hurt.”
He said nothing. Silence was now his weapon.
More cold water surged into the chamber, announcing itself with a roar. He rested on his knees, the unlit flashlight held above the surface, waiting.
Carbonell kept quiet, too.
She was no more than ten feet away, but with water gushing about them and the complete lack of light, her locating him was impossible.
Luckily, the reverse was not the case.
CASSIOPEIA AND STEPHANIE HELPED SHIRLEY KAISER OUT OF the pickup truck and onto the dock. She remained a little stunned, her hand bandaged tight.
“Damn, that hurts,” Shirley muttered.
“Hang in there,” Stephanie whispered. “There’s help on the way.”
Cassiopeia hoped that was true. Edwin Davis had to be suspicious. She saw that Adventure was now lit with activity. Hale was true to his word. They were going for a sail. She noticed fog, but also the fact that out on the river, higher in the sky, the ground mist dissipated, stars winking in and out from a misty veil.
“I’ll be all right,” Shirley said.
Hale stood six meters away near the gangway.
“You think you can kill all three of us and no one will notice,” Cassiopeia called out.
He walked closer. “I doubt anyone will raise much of a stink. That failed rescue attempt gives me bargaining power. I would say myriad laws were violated with that nonsense. Once our letters of marque are fortified, we’ll be fine. Danny Daniels doesn’t want a public fight on any of this.”
“You might be wrong,” Stephanie said.
And Cassiopeia agreed, recalling the fortitude with which Daniels had urged both she and Cotton to find Stephanie. He could well do whatever was required and damn the consequences. Hale was underestimating the president. As Daniels had told her, his political career was about over.
Which provided a lot of room to maneuver.
“Get them on board,” Hale said to his men.
MALONE FINISHED HIS CLIMB AND SLIPPED ONTO THE YACHT’S bow deck unnoticed. He’d almost lost his grip twice on the slippery chain.