Cloud Dust: RD-1 (11 page)

Virginia Beach, away from the water and in a wooded area, was
where we ended up, at a huge, Mediterranean-style villa that would house all of
us easily. While it wasn't as large as the Mansion, the grounds were smaller,
gated, and would be easier to patrol.

There was only one large kitchen on the first floor, however,
which disappointed Rafe and me. Our assigned suite was on the second floor,
with a balcony. Yes, Auggie put us together. At least there was a sitting area
and a study, so I could have space to write.

"You don't mind this?" Rafe asked as we walked
through the suite together, deciding where we wanted things.

"No. Do you?"

"No. I want this. I would complain if they separated
us." Those words came with a tight embrace and warm breath against my
neck. I love his accent when he sets it free. Then, he is Ilya and not Rafe,
just as he wants it.

"They'll set up a cafeteria kitchen in the apartment over
the garages," James walked in, breaking up the embrace. "Sorry,"
he apologized.

"Where will they set up the common dining area?"
Rafe asked, pulling away.

"Probably in the library downstairs. It's empty. Colonel
Hunter says you can cook downstairs in the kitchen if you want, but others will
probably use the space, too. At least until the kitchen over the garage is
operational."

"James, what about Kevin and Ken?" I asked.

"They'll uh, be buried in Arlington. By order of the
President."

"Oh."

"We're not allowed to go," he added. "For
safety reasons. They're officially burying you, Rafe, Maye and Nick, too."

"In case Cutter and his associates come looking?"

"That's the idea. From now on, if you go with the
President or any other official, you'll be disguised."

"Joy."

"It'll probably be a wig, contacts and dark glasses, but
you never know," August walked in and stood by the large window in the
sitting area. "This is a nicer view than the one I have."

"August, does your wife know?" I began.

"The President says she can live here if she wants. If
she doesn't, she'll have to stay with her mother. It's too dangerous for her at
the house."

"This is ridiculous," I shook my head. "You
shouldn't be chased out of your house."

"It's fine—I can visit her now and then. She'll still see
me about as often as before," August shrugged. "That's if she doesn't
come."

"You think she won't?"

"She's not fond of how the government rules my
life," August grimaced. "If she comes, she'll be confined to the
building unless we can get her out secretly. She likes to shop, so there's a
big negative, right there."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault. I signed up for this, you know."

"Someday, you'll have to tell me that story," I
said.

"I'll consider it. Furniture is on the way. Hopefully
we'll have beds by nightfall."

"I hope so, too. I'm not fond of sleeping on the
floor."

* * *

"We need a new Secretary of Defense," the President
pushed a list of names across her desk toward the Vice President. "Anybody
you want to add to this list?"

The Vice President, who'd formerly been the Secretary of
State, studied the names. Five were listed. "Where do you think Cutter is?
Are you going ahead with the plan to say he left the position for personal
reasons?"

"For now. We know why he's on the run, but the country
doesn't. He still has plenty of supporters, and if we cry foul without him there,
they'll accuse us of all sorts of trickery."

"Or worse. He was hoping for the VP slot, wasn't
he?"

"I believe that's true. We dodged a bullet on that
one."

"We paid for it, too."

"Yes, we did."

"Too bad Safer is retiring. He's the best fit, but he
doesn't want it."

"He wants to go fishing and spend time with his
family."

"I have no problem with that. Look, Amelia, will we be
able to keep them safe—the ones who saved my ass in London?"

"Two of them are dead, Jon. In the bombing."

"Fucking hell. Which ones?"

"Kevin and Ken. To keep the others safe, including the
ones with you yesterday, we're officially burying all of them except Becker in
Arlington."

"They're in that much danger?"

"We're in that much danger, too. Think about it—get us
and them out of the way, the country is ripe for the picking. Somebody tried to
kill me yesterday, remember? If Cutter wasn't in on that, I'll eat my desk with
salt and pepper."

"I know. The whole thing is preposterous. When did Cutter
become such a liability? It happened right under our noses."

"Cutter's been on the fringe for a while. I hoped
offering him the Secretary of Defense position would settle things and bring
him around. That didn't happen."

"So, he has Becker, now?"

"And his handler. I have no idea what he intends to do
with both of them, but we're already preparing for the worst."

* * *

Corinne

Our beds arrived sometime after midnight. Until then, Rafe and
I had settled in a corner of our bedroom and tried to nap as comfortably as we
could. That didn't really work so well.

When the furniture arrived, I was grateful for the army of
government employees who unloaded and placed all of it while the villa's new
residents watched in bleary-eyed satisfaction.

I just hoped none of them recalled us afterward, or broke
their oaths not to disclose any of it.

"Now we go to bed," Rafe said after we'd placed
clean sheets and a blanket on the mattress.

"Yeah. Please don't wake me up in the morning."

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

I'd been waiting on the photographs of Mary Evans. I had mixed
feelings about them the next day. Rafe was with me as we looked them over in
August's new office. James had barely gotten the computer hooked up—at least he
had a hook-up. Mine was scheduled for the following week.

"This one," Rafe and I pointed to the same man
simultaneously. I had no idea he was looking, just as I was. Not only for a
connection, but also for revenge.

This one wasn't pulling the strings, but he wanted something
from the puppet master—through Mary Evans. "What does he want, and what is
he willing to pay for it?" I blinked at August.

"This is the one I hunt. The one most dangerous to your
government," Rafe informed our handler. "He will stop at nothing to
get his way."

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"This was part of the deal," I told Shaw. "Rafe
gave valuable information to us in exchange for medical care and the drug, and
we agreed that we'd allow him to hunt this fucker down if he survived and the
target was located. We didn't expect him to survive, or to be as useful as he
is."

"A high-ranking officer in the Russian military is the
target?" Shaw shook his head in disbelief. "This is a suicide mission
for Rafe—admit it. It will kill Corinne to take him away."

"You think I don't know that? She's a hundred times
better off if he's in the picture. The truth is, all the trouble we're having
from the Russians? This guy may be behind it." I tapped the photograph
lying on the table. "He's advising their President, and his advice isn't
good for us or any of the surrounding countries."

"This places him in Ireland three weeks ago. What the
hell was he doing there?" Shaw asked.

"Talking to Mary Evans. We know what happens if she's
around."

"People are targeted and important things are
stolen?"

"Exactly. I don't know who she's working for—Corinne was
disappointed that we didn't have anything on that, but we do know that she's
working on a deal with this asshole."

"Cori asked me to investigate whether Cutter may have had
contact with this woman." I studied the image of Mary Evans—that was her
name until we learned her real identity.

"That could explain a few things," Shaw muttered.

"It could. I'm sure he had his eye on the VP's office, so
there's the possibility that he was involved in the former VP's death. It makes
sense, especially when the bastard took off running after the Mansion was
destroyed."

"If you can't get what you want one way, then look for an
alternate route?" Shaw lifted his eyes to mine.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"I'm worried about what they all want. Do you think any
of them are working together, or whether the one who's getting everybody else
what they want has an agenda of his own, and isn't only interested in making
money?"

"You're assuming it's only one person. What if it's more
than that? We still don't have identification on those who attacked Corinne and
the others. No fingerprints, no ID—these assassins didn't just drop from the
sky."

"Still no leads on the one who killed the VP,
either," Shaw pointed out. "We can't identify any of the men who
attacked the President's limo. If others were there, they disappeared without a
trace."

"Then, in the middle of all this, Rafe will be sent to
track a Russian General; the President has already cleared it. I don't like this.
He's walking into a trap."

* * *

Corinne

"When?" I hugged myself—I couldn't help it. Rafe was
going to track a Russian General and get information if he could.

"I leave for Ireland in two days."

"No," I moaned.

"Cabbage," he began.

"I understand. I do. I just don't like being without
you."

"You haven't had me that long."

"Honey, you're better than the best chocolate I ever
had," I said. "And I'm addicted to chocolate."

"Ah. Where's my feisty, insulting cabbage?" His arms
went around me and I closed my eyes with the pleasure of his warmth.

"In a depressed funk," I mumbled against his
shoulder.

"Your appointment with Dr. Shaw is ten minutes away.
Shall we go together?"

"That's scary."

"No. He will see both of us. You will tell things you
have never said. He and I will hear those things."

"See previous statement."

"We have two days, cabbage. Let us make the most of
them."

* * *

"You're both here?" Leo Shaw looked surprised. He
should.

"Yes. Corinne will tell us a story," Rafe said,
putting me on the spot. I wanted to kick his ankle. I didn't.

"What story is that?" Leo settled deeper into a new,
leather chair behind a new, cherry-wood desk. His office was on the villa's
first floor, in what should be a private study.

"Corinne will tell us things about the terrorist attack
in France," Rafe pulled me onto the sofa and sat beside me. He'd wedged me
between the sofa arm and his body, so I couldn't escape easily.

"What things?" Leo asked, his voice deep and even. He
used the same voice to convince his patients that it was safe to tell him
anything.

"Where do you want me to start?" I stalled. Any way
you looked at this story, it would be painful.

"Start at the beginning," Leo said.

"The beginning? Well, when my husband and I walked into
the Louvre that morning, it was the first time I saw the woman who calls
herself Mary Evans."

Rafe stiffened beside me. "You saw her before?" Leo
kept his voice even.

"Yes. She was going out the door, carrying a large
plastic bag and a tote—both from the museum gift shop. I know now that original
paintings and the crown were inside her bags."

"They'd already been replaced?" Rafe asked.

"Yes. I didn't know that then, of course. I know it
now."

"You were married." Leo said it flatly.

"Yes."

"Will you tell us your name?"

"No. My name—and my husband's name—aren't on the list of
victims."

"He is dead?"

"Yes. I watched him die. They killed him in front of
me."

* * *

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"She didn't go into detail," Shaw said. "It was
hard enough for her to tell us what she did."

"Where is she now?" I asked.

"I gave her something and Rafe is with her in their
bedroom."

"So she was married."

"Yes. Still wouldn't give me her name. I don't know what
she's protecting, but there's something there. The most horrible thing was the
deaths of the children who were with some of the tourists. She said that five
of the six terrorists were sociopaths and only wanted to cause pain and death.
The sixth killed the other five at the end, then killed himself. I believe that
was the plan all along, but the other five didn't know it. They thought their
rescue was on the way."

"That's crazy," I shook my head. "No wonder she
wouldn't talk about it. Nobody would want to talk about that."

"He thought she was dead, too, when he committed
suicide."

"So she was forced to watch all of them die."

"Looks that way."

"Fuck."

"I think it's extremely important to Corinne that we find
those who orchestrated that mess—as well as recent events. She and Rafe are
convinced they're connected. You and I tend to agree with that
assessment."

"They're connected, all right. We still don't have
verification on the location of the items taken from the Louvre, or whether the
British crown jewels are resting beside them, but I don't doubt for a moment
that the same one paid for all of it."

"There's no lack of money to back Cutter's mad schemes,
whatever those are," Shaw said.

"Billions," I agreed. "Enough to entice anyone
with the resources to pull off this kind of larceny and assassination. Those
people in the Louvre? Collateral damage, to provide an excuse for the
robbery."

"And Corinne happened to be there. If she hadn't, we'd
still believe that it was an act of terrorism only, and unconnected to the rest
of this."

"Is Rafe set up with identification?"

"Several sets, with safe houses and drop box locations
here and there. I think I'd worry more about him disappearing, except that he
cares about Corinne."