True Honor

“She was pulling your leg.”

  “I sincerely hope so.”

  “She was smart enough to buy a wonderful house; she’ll fix it up right. And she’s got to be joking about the spiral staircase.” A multiyear project—Darcy had certainly found that. It told him a lot about the future she planned for herself: a place with space, freedom, work that would keep her outdoors. This was a decision to return to her roots of her hometown and family. They were good priorities. “What does she talk about doing once she gets the house fixed up?”

  “Besides wandering into my office to see what’s going on that might be interesting?”

  “She mentioned she was a bit bored.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year. Darcy has to be in the middle of the action or else she’s out somewhere making the news.” Amy picked up another paint sample strip. “Actually, she has been seriously exploring a few options. Our dad was a biographer, a rather good one. He used to go to these obscure towns to look up the house where someone had been born, visit neighbors who might have lived in the community for decades, dig out school yearbooks and talk to fellow classmates. Darcy used to help him with the research. I think she was exploring writing some history of the cold war from her firsthand perspective. She also talked about buying the ice cream parlor when Sandy retired. Personally I’d bet on the ice cream parlor with a few tall tales for the tourists who come to town.”

  “You actually have tourists visit your spot-in-the-road town?”

  Amy laughed. “A handful every year. And the town is big enough to have its share of troublemakers.” She got up. “My husband and I live in the ranch house down the road. You want to come to lunch? You can spend the afternoon making a video that is guaranteed to make Darcy homesick. Your new rental car should be here by then.”

  “I want you on the tape.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “You don’t need to get back to the office?”

  Amy shook her head. “One of the pleasures of being the boss. Jim will call if something urgent crops up.” She locked the house behind them. “I’m glad you came by, Sam.”

  “Can you not tell Darcy I came to look you up?”

  She laughed. “Tell her what?”

  Seventeen

  * * *

  MAY 24

  Friday, 12:05 p.m.

  McLean, Virginia

  Darcy walked up the carpeted stairs of the condo, following Gabriel and the state police officer who had become their escort. They had already passed through two checkpoints and ducked under yellow police tape just to get to the building. She was not accustomed to walking into a crime scene. She saw information about events like this in reports, occasionally saw photos, but it didn’t exude the sight, smell, and punch of the reality.

  Given the number of Fairfax County sheriff and Commonwealth of Virginia police cars blocking off Great Falls Street, the lack of people inside the condo was surprising. The upper level of the condo had only one FBI agent and two men from the crime scene unit present.

  “Sir, they’re here.”

  The FBI agent turned, finished his phone call, and came to meet them. “Special Agent Mike Sands. I called.”

  “Gabriel Arneau; this is my partner.”

  Darcy endured the curious look and quietly returned it. The agent nodded his thanks to their escort, dismissing him.

  “What we have is a murder and a message left for you, Gabriel. As soon as the sheriff reported what they had, the director tapped me to handle this one. Since the scene context seems critical to figuring out what happened, I’ve held things for the moment rather than let the crime lab guys move in. I’ve worked a few cases with Agency connections, and they haven’t been the smoothest experiences in my life. I’d like your cooperation.”

  Gabriel shifted both forearm crutches to his left hand and raised his right hand to rub the back of his neck. He looked over at Darcy. “What do you think?”

  She’d summed up the agent in his first two sentences. He’d already proven he was more interested in getting information to solve his case than protecting it from an interagency turf war, and the FBI director trusted him. Darcy smiled back at Gabe. “He’s not wearing a tie, those shoes haven’t been spending much idle time behind a desk, and he was smart enough not to ask for my name.”

  The agent winced at the mention of the tie.

  Gabe rested his weight back on his crutches and nodded. “Mike, how do you define full cooperation?”

  “A seat in your office.”

  “Since she monopolizes the couch, you’re welcome to it. We’ll figure out how to expedite the code word clearance to make it happen.”

  “Oh, I’ve already got the code word clearance, not that it’s much of a blessing; hence the director’s call.”

  Gabriel laughed. “Show me what we’ve got.”

  Agent Sands led the way to the room at the end of the hall. The layout suggested it had been intended for use as a large bedroom, but it had been turned into an office.

  “You want to clear the room so we can talk freely?” Gabe suggested.

  Mike nodded to the two technicians photographing the scene, and they left the room.

  “They rushed a set of fingerprints through the system. They identified him as a former Russian army officer,” Agent Sands offered.

  Maps on the wall, photos. Darcy had never seen a sniper rifle up close, but she put two and two together and the open gun case on the bed made it obvious that the weapon wasn’t used to hunt deer. Darcy stood just inside the doorway and simply absorbed it. The blown-up photos on the wall were taped at eye level in a line. She was looking at the images of people she knew, agents now working at CIA headquarters. The street map of this area had also been blown up, and one-way streets were marked in red with ongoing construction points highlighted.

  A man was dead. He was slumped over the table near the window, his face turned away. From the look of the pool of blood, not much remained of his head. He wore a tailored suit, and at the wrists she could see white shirt cuffs. Pinned to his back was a white piece of paper with a message.

  Even from across the room she could read the words written with a red marker. Call Gabriel Arneau, CIA. The message was so startling. Darcy accepted the image she would have to wrestle to forget and walked across the room to join Gabe beside the body. “Your desk phone number.”

  Gabe knelt to study the note, not touching anything.

  “Tell me what you know, Agent Sands.”

  “We think his name is Mikail Provosta. Immigration didn’t know he was in the country. We’re guessing he’s been dead about eight hours. He had one lethal sniper rifle in that case.”

  “You shoot some?” Gabe asked.

  “Enough to know what I’m seeing is some well-developed planning.”

  “Darcy, check out the signature on this note,” Gabe warned softly.

  She looked and had to brace her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance at what she saw. “Sergey.” She knew that signature as well as she knew her own. “He’s still alive?” She took a shuddering breath as she absorbed that. It shouldn’t surprise her. He had taught her over the years to withhold assumptions, but she really had thought he was dead. What did this new development mean to her?

  “Sergey was here a few hours ago.” Gabe squeezed her shoulder. “He said Gabriel, not Darcy. Maybe he thinks you’re really dead.”

  “He knows I’m alive; he’s too good to miss that. He probably figured you’d be the more forgiving of the two of us. How did he get into the country?” She held up her hand, waving away her own question. “Forget I asked.” He could do it easily. He’d shown that over the years.

  Gabe looked around the room. “Sergey did us a favor. The question now is why?”

  She was trying to restructure her mental list of facts to deal with the reality that he was still alive. “Sergey’s family was murdered. He’s running on his own agenda, probably with the cash from the bounty collected on me. He’ll be after payback.
And not just payback—vengeance.” She studied the insignia ring the dead man wore, recognizing the Russian unit emblem.

  Gabriel stepped back. “I’ll bet you good money this is the man who killed Sergey’s family. Sergey waits this long to show his hand, he’s going after the man who did the crime.”

  “And then he’s going after the man who ordered it.”

  “I gather you two have met my most likely suspect,” Agent Sands said, standing back and simply listening to the exchange.

  “Sergey’s Russian, in his sixties. We’ve got a reasonably good picture of him in the files; although if he doesn’t want you to recognize him you won’t,” Darcy replied. “He’s former KGB and very good at what he does. This past year he’s been a little hard to find. We thought he was dead.”

  She looked around the room. There were too many photos to suggest which individual had been this man’s central target. More planning documents were on the second table. “May I?” Darcy held up her capped pen.

  Agent Sands nodded. “The table surface has been photographed.”

  She used the pen to nudge the top page aside to see what else was in the stacks of papers. Restaurant menus. Bus schedules. She took in a deep breath. “We’ve got another encrypted note. A partially translated encrypted note.” The first four words had been transcribed from the numbers. At least there was one item that would be immediately useful. “Sands, this page needs to be fingerprinted and handled with a great deal of care.”

  Gabriel came over to look. “Longer than the first one. Possibly listing more names?”

  Darcy started looking for the open key. The note wasn’t on top of the pile of papers, but probably sometime in the last hours before his death, he’d been working on it. There wasn’t anything obvious. She glanced at Agent Sands. “We’ll need copies of everything in this room. And I mean everything.”

  “Better make that the house,” Gabe suggested. “You’ll also be looking for a large sum of cash, probably in the low six figures. If it’s found, we need it checked for fingerprints.”

  “So far I’m hearing sniper, Russian agents, secret messages, and what sounds like a conspiracy. For now, why don’t I let them remove the body, start the autopsy, and dust the place for prints. We’ll leave the room and its contents sealed until we’re both comfortable moving something isn’t going to disturb a lead.”

  Darcy smiled. “I’m beginning to really like you.” She pointed to the line of photos. “Who do you think he was after?”

  “Given the number, I’d say there was one primary target and lots of targets of opportunity.”

  “Gabe, this sniper is dead; Luther will just hire another one. Can we pull in Sam on this?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  Darcy was trying to connect what she could see to what she suspected. “This guy is going to prove to be a military-trained sniper. We need someone looking at this planning who can take it apart at a glance and tell us what the focus was. As good as the Agency guys are, they may miss something that a military man wouldn’t. The key to stopping this next round of sniper attacks is here, if we can solve it fast enough and figure out who Luther is planning to hit.”

  “Agent Sands, can you handle one more guest to this?” Gabe asked.

  “Unofficially?”

  “Very unofficially. A little technical advice.”

  “As long as I’m present to hear his ideas,” the agent agreed.

  Gabriel looked at her. “Why don’t you take a walk, make a few calls, and see if you can locate our good buddy. Just stay out of public sight in case someone is watching this gathering.”

  She nodded, grateful to get out of the room. She paused on the landing and called headquarters to have Gabe’s secretary get Sam’s numbers from Darcy’s office. While she waited she looked around the hall and listened to Gabe and Agent Sands.

  “Got someone in your team who can read Russian?” Gabriel asked.

  “The New York office has a couple decent guys.”

  “You’ll need one. Tell me how you think this shooting went down.”

  The on-hold music cut off as the line was picked up. “Yes, I’m still here.” Darcy wrote the numbers on her palm. “Thanks.” She left the two guys talking, walked down the stairs, and after a moment of thought for where to find the best privacy, stepped outside to the back patio.

  She dialed Sam’s cell phone number.

  MAY 24

  Friday, 2:20 p.m.

  Shelton, North Dakota

  Sam decided about midafternoon that Amy had been born in the wrong generation. She would have made a great Old West sheriff. He changed tapes in the camera as they walked from the bank toward city hall. She knew everyone in this town. “Can I see your office?” He turned the camera back on to continue recording the actions on the main street.

  “There’s a desk and a chair.”

  He swung the camera toward Amy. “Do you have the Most Wanted posters on the wall?”

  “I have a calendar of cats.”

  “I’m allergic to cats.”

  “I heard about the cougar story. You made it up.”

  “Amy, you wound me.”

  She laughed. He could hear an echo of Darcy’s laughter in her sister’s.

  His phone rang.

  “Hold this.” He gave Amy the camera and retrieved his phone. “Hello?”

  “Sam, what are you doing at this moment?”

  He was surprised to hear Darcy’s voice. “Talking to your sister.”

  “Amy?”

  He smiled at Amy. “You have more than one sister? Would you like to talk to her?”

  “Maybe. This is a surprise. You’re in Shelton?”

  “Yep.”

  “Let’s come back to that later. Can you find somewhere private for a minute? I need to ask you something.”

  The stress in her voice began to register. Sam lifted his hand and had Amy lower the camera. “Sure, Dar. Give me a minute.” Sam covered the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” The seriousness he had first encountered when Amy pulled him over on the highway was back.

  “I’m not sure yet. Where’s a quiet place I can chat with Darcy?”

  Amy was already pulling out her keys. “My office.”

  Sam followed her to the town hall where the sheriff’s office was located. There was one deputy and a secretary in the outer office. Amy unlocked her office. Sam got his question answered. Amy kept missing person’s pictures on her bulletin board.

  She motioned him toward her chair. “Let me talk to her before you hang up,” she said softly. He nodded and Amy closed the door to give him privacy.

  “Okay, Darcy. I’m alone.”

  “I’ve got a situation here.”

  “Describe it.”

  “Another sniper, this one in Virginia, stopped before he could act. I’ve got planning documents, photos, maps, and a very dangerous-looking weapon. The FBI is running the investigation.”

  “How’d you get pulled in?” Sam asked.

  “Sergey was likely the man who killed this sniper. He left a note for my partner.”

  “He’s still alive?” Sam asked, feeling a chill at the news. “He’s in your area?” He rose from the chair, the urgency kicking in.

  “It’s just starting to sink in but yes to both. Sergey was here within the last day.”

  “Are you somewhere safe?”

  Darcy hesitated on that answer. “Relatively. I don’t think Sergey is after me this time. Frankly we think he helped us out on this one. We’re still trying to figure out what is going on.”

  Sam paced. “How can I help you?”

  “We’re trying to figure out what this sniper was planning in case someone else is sent to complete this job. How would you feel about being an honorary spook for a few days? In order to think like this guy, we need an expertise here we just don’t have. He’s military-trained. Informal and off the record, just tell us what you think.”

  Sam looked at his watch. “I can get
a flight and be there by late tonight.”

  “I’m taking up your leave from work. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be. If I’d heard about this event days later, it would have been hard to take. I’m on my way.”

  “I appreciate this.”

  She was nervous about asking for his help. He wanted to shake her for wondering how he’d react to her request. He would be there for her no matter what it took to convince her to let him help. “Dar, don’t make assumptions about Sergey. Please. Stay at the office late tonight, make sure you have security drive by your house.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  He had to take her word for it, but he knew reality. If a sniper pinpointed her as a target, time was already against him. He looked at the clock, knowing he had to get on the road right now. “Your sister would like to talk with you for a minute.” Sam opened the office door and signaled Amy.

  “Before you pass me to her, how’s your family? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier.”

  “Fine, and I’ve got lots of stories to tell. I’ll catch you up on the details when I see you,” he said, rushing her a bit because he had a few urgent calls of his own to make. “Here’s your sister.” He handed the phone to Amy.

  Sam joined the receptionist to give Amy some privacy and asked for a phone book so he could look up the number on the East Coast. Lord, I need to get across the country quickly and figure out what’s going on. This threat is too near Dar for comfort. Please keep her safe.

  Amy rejoined him and handed him back his phone. “She’ll be okay, Sam.”

  “It must be tough having Darcy as your sister.”

  “She can take care of herself; I taught her that. But she knows if the world gets too hot and something goes wrong, she can always come home. Right now it would be nice to have her here.”

  “I need to get back East. What’s the fastest way to make that happen?”

  Amy picked up her hat. “I’ll drive you to the airport. Leave the camera and the rental car keys. I’ll make sure the camera gets back to your mom and the car gets returned.”

  MAY 24

  Friday, 11:40 p.m.

  McLean, Virginia

  Darcy walked the concourse at the airport, carrying a book. A look at the incoming flights board showed that Sam’s flight was expected to arrive in another twenty minutes. Amy had called her with the flight numbers, and there was no way she would let him take a cab, not when he was flying halfway across the country because she called him.