Countdown (29 page)

“Come with me.” Trevor was standing beside her. “I need to talk to you.”

“Why should—” She broke off as she saw his expression, and got to her feet and followed him toward the cockpit. “Problem?”

“Maybe.” His lips were tight. “I just got a call from Venable. He said one sentence and hung up: ‘Sorry, I warned her.’”

“What’s that supposed to—”

“Call Eve,” he said. “Now. See if she knows anything.”

She dialed the number. “Eve, Jane. Something odd is—”

“Hang up,” Eve said curtly. “And get out of there. Joe just found out that Homeland Security is taking over and pushing the CIA out of the picture. They’re planning on scooping up everyone at MacDuff’s Run, questioning you all, and conducting their own investigation.”

“Shit, they can’t do that. It would tip off Grozak and tie our hands.”

“It’s going to happen. John Logan tried to talk them out of it, but he did his job of stirring them up too well. They’re panicky about looking bad if they don’t take some action. Get off the phone. Our line is bugged and they’ll trace you.”

“Good. Then they’ll realize that we’re not at MacDuff’s Run any longer. It would be senseless for them to pour into the castle and try to arrest us.”

“No arrest, just quest—”

“It’s the same difference. They’ll tie our hands. And we can’t afford that right now. We have a chance, Eve.” She glanced at Trevor. “I’m going to hang up and have Trevor call you. They can trace him and tell he’s not at the Run either. Try to get through to someone at Homeland Security and tell them that they’re going to blow everything for nothing.”

“They’ve heard you tell them,” Eve said. “And I’ll have John put it to them in the way they understand best. A monumental blunder will stick them right smack in the political hot seat. It may keep them away from the Run, but don’t count on it stopping them from trying to find you. Keep safe.” She hung up.

“Call her,” Jane said to Trevor. “Homeland Security’s taken over and bugged her line. We’ve got to try to keep them away from MacDuff’s Run.”

Trevor nodded and dialed his phone. Jane leaned against the wall and listened to him talk to Eve for a few minutes and then hang up. “That should do it. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“To have MacDuff call his government friends in London and have them put all kinds of roadblocks in place to keep Homeland Security from touching the Run. They’d have to have special permission to operate on foreign soil, and they have no concrete proof of any crime. The government isn’t going to want to believe anything bad about MacDuff.”

“That’s right, you said MacDuff was some kind of folk hero.”

“And it may prove to be an ace in the hole.”

She watched him walk over to where MacDuff was sitting and talk to him. MacDuff nodded and pulled out his phone and started dialing.

A moment later Trevor was back with Jane, opening the cockpit door. “Now we have to get the hell out of here. Give me your phone.” She handed it to him. “We’ll have Kimbrough fly low and eject them over the Atlantic as soon as we get airborne. I’ll have Brenner arrange to get us other satellite phones when we reach Colorado.”

“They can trace our phones that closely?”

“It’s an electronic world, and there are spy satellites used by all the agencies. They can zoom in on practically anything. They probably have a fix on us now.” He said to Kimbrough, “We’ve got to get moving. See if you can hurry up the tower.” He closed the cockpit door and turned back to her. “Sit down and buckle up.”

She nodded but didn’t move. She felt dazed and was trying to take in the implications of what had happened. “Can we get Venable to explain everything to them, get them off our back?”

“He’s probably talked until he’s blue in the face. Homeland Security is all-powerful these days, and sometimes they don’t play well with others.” He grimaced. “And like he said, he did warn you.”

“Then we can’t count on the CIA’s help,” she said slowly. “And we don’t know anyone at Homeland Security; we can’t count on them believing anything we say or letting us do anything but what they tell us to do. We’re on our own.”

“That about covers it.” He raised his brows. “But then, we were pretty much on our own before.”

“But we had Venable for a strong backup. I felt safer.”

“It’s not as if we won’t try to bring them back in as soon as we zero in on Reilly.” He added, “Of course, we could call Homeland Security and tell them to meet our plane if you’d rather forget about Jock and put yourself in their capable hands.”

“No!”

“I didn’t think so.” He opened the cockpit door. “Try to get some sleep. I have to get Kimbrough to change our flight plan. We’ll get fuel in Detroit, and I’ll call Bartlett and see if Eve was able to keep Homeland Security from making a raid on MacDuff’s Run.”

17
                                                                                          

T
revor placed the call from Detroit to MacDuff’s Run only minutes before they were due to take off.

He turned away from the phone booth. “No sign of anyone at the Run. And since it’s been several hours, we’re probably in the clear.”

“Thank heavens.”

“Thank Eve and her friend John Logan.” He was striding toward the plane. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t try to pick us up if they can trace us. We’re on their turf and violating it to boot. They’re not going to be as cooperative as Venable was.” He made a face. “I never thought I’d be wistful about losing Venable.”

“Because you could control him,” Jane said.

“No, because, believe it or not, I respected him.” He smiled faintly as he followed her up the steps. “And,
yes
, I could control him. I hope to hell the bastard didn’t get in trouble with Sabot.”

T
he chalet was a small three-bedroom bungalow nestled between two mountains. It was one of several cottages scattered around an ice-covered lake.

Jock got out of the rental car, his gaze on the front door. “I remember this place.”

“You should,” MacDuff said. “It’s not been that long.” He strode up the stairs and unlocked the door.

“Do you remember where you were when he found you?” Jane asked Jock as she got out of the car.

“Doctors.” Jock slowly climbed the stairs. “They didn’t understand. They wouldn’t let me— Blood . . . They strapped me to the bed and wouldn’t let me do what I had to do.”

“Because it was wrong,” Jane said. “To take your life is wrong.”

He shook his head.

“Leave him alone,” Trevor said as he and Mario got out of the car. “Let him get his bearings.”

Jane nodded. “I wasn’t pushing.” She made a face. “Well, I didn’t mean to push. It just sort of happened.”

“Jock and I will share the first bedroom off the living room,” MacDuff said over his shoulder. “There’s an office with a Murphy bed down the hall. And another bedroom with twin beds adjoining it. You decide among you who sleeps where.”

“I don’t think we should be here at all,” Mario said. “Dammit, we can’t settle into this cozy little place. When do we start
doing
something?”

“Tonight.” MacDuff gave him a cool glance. “Jock needs to rest and have dinner. We’ll go out after that.”

“Sorry,” Mario muttered. “I’m a little on edge.” He passed MacDuff and Jock and went into the cottage. “I’ll take the Murphy bed. I’ll see you all later.”

“Go build a fire, Jock.” MacDuff whirled on Jane and Trevor when Jock had gone inside. “This isn’t going to work. Mario’s on edge? What about Jock? He’s already shaky, and he has to deal with a committee every step of the way? All of you go back to the Run and leave him to me.”

“That’s not what Jock wants,” Jane said. But she could see why MacDuff would object. That moment on the porch had shaken her a little too. It was clear Jock was remembering the suicide attempt in the asylum and it was filling him with confusion. “What were you planning for tonight?”

“Jock was picked up by the police on a road outside Boulder. I’m taking him back there and setting him loose.”

“You’re not staying with him?”

“I’ll be close enough. But I want him to feel alone.”

“And you accuse me of callousness?”

“That’s different. He’s one of—”

“Yours,” Trevor finished for him. “Then all is supposed to be forgiven?”

“Ask him,” MacDuff said. “It should be the two of us. You’re all outsiders.”

“Jock wants this particular outsider along.” Trevor gestured to Jane. “And since this is simply a preliminary foray with Jock, I’ll volunteer to stay here with Mario and keep him from interfering if you’ll take her with you.”

MacDuff was silent a moment. “I’m surprised. I thought you’d give me more of an argument.”

“Why? It’s not a bad plan. You want to shake Jock up, and too many bystanders would interfere with his concentration. Mario is a problem. The only danger in this situation should be from Jock and, with you standing by, Jane should be okay.” He met his gaze. “Just don’t try to shut me out when we get close to Reilly.”

MacDuff shrugged and strode into the house.

“I’m surprised too,” Jane said quietly. “You’re not one to stay and play babysitter.”

“It’s to prove to you how reasonable and self-sacrificing I can be.”

She gazed at him skeptically.

“The truth?” His smile faded. “I’ve had a bad feeling since we boarded that plane at Aberdeen. This entire scenario could go completely wrong.”

“But we’re moving, something’s happening.”

“I know. That’s why I’m giving MacDuff a little now, to cement more cooperation later. While you’re out there tonight I’m going to see what I can do about convincing Mario to talk to us about Cira’s scroll. Maybe I’ll try splinters under his fingernails. Just joking.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Be careful with Jock. He may believe he’s ready to help but he could blow at any moment.”

D
o you recognize any of this, Jock?” Jane could feel the ramrod tension of his muscles on the seat beside her. They’d been driving around for over two hours, and only during the last few miles had she seen any change in Jock. She glanced out the car window. It was a fairly populated area on the outskirts of Boulder, and the houses they were passing seemed to be in golf communities and upscale subdivisions. “Have you been here before?”

He jerkily shook his head, staring straight ahead.

“How close is this to where the police found him?” she asked MacDuff.

“Six, eight miles. Close enough to walk.” He studied Jock. “He’s definitely having a reaction. He’s drawing up inside like a clam.” He suddenly pulled over to the side of the road. “Let’s see if we can open him up. Get out, Jock.”

Jock shook his head.

“He’s terrified,” Jane whispered.

“Get out, Jock,” MacDuff repeated. His voice cracked with whiplike sharpness.
“Now!”

Jock moved sluggishly to open the door. “Please . . .”

“Go. You know why you’re here.”

Jock got out of the car. “Don’t make me do it.”

MacDuff put his foot on the accelerator and drove off.

Jane twisted around to look back at him and felt her heart ache. “He’s just standing there. He doesn’t understand.”

“He understands,” MacDuff said roughly. “If he doesn’t, he’d better learn. It’s got to end. You want Jock to save the world. I only want him to save himself. And he won’t do it by burying his head in the sand. This is his chance and, by God, he’s going to take it.”

“I’m not arguing.” Jane forced herself to look away from Jock. “How long are we going to leave him out there?”

“Thirty minutes. We’ll go to the next exit and double back.”

“Thirty minutes can be a long time.”

“A lifetime. His lifetime.” He stepped on the accelerator. “Or his sanity.”

I
don’t see him.” Jane’s gaze frantically searched either side of the road. Three times MacDuff had driven slowly down the stretch where they had left Jock, and there had been no sign of him. “Where is he?”

“He could have wandered into one of the subdivisions. We passed by Timberlake golf community and Mountain Streams subdivision on this stretch. We’ll do one more pass and then we’ll start searching—”

“There he is!” Jane had caught sight of a figure sitting in the ditch by the side of the road. “Oh, God, do you suppose a car hit him or—” She jumped out of the car as MacDuff screeched to a stop. “Jock, are you—”

“Four eight two.” Jock didn’t look at her. He was staring straight ahead. “Four eight two.”

“Is he hurt?” MacDuff was beside her, dropping to his knees and shining his flashlight on the boy. “Jock, what happened?”

Jock stared blindly at him. “Four eight two.”

MacDuff was running his hands over Jock’s arms and legs. “I don’t think he was struck by a car. No obvious injury.”

“I think his injury is pretty damn obvious.” She tried to steady her voice. “My God, what have we done?”

“What we had to do.” His hands grasped Jock’s shoulders and made him look at him. “We’re here now. Nothing is going to happen. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Four eight two.” He suddenly bent double in agony and closed his eyes. “No. Can’t do it. Little. Too little. Four eight two.”

“Jesus,” she whispered.

MacDuff handed her the flashlight. “We have to get him back to the chalet.” He scooped Jock up in his arms. “You drive. I’ll get in the backseat with him. I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”

“I’m not afraid. For God’s sake, he’s hurting.”

“You drive,” he repeated, and straightened. “If there’s a risk, I’ll take it.”

Because Jock was one of MacDuff’s people. She could tell by the possessive way he was holding Jock that there would be no arguing with him. And she had no desire to do anything but get the boy back to the chalet as soon as—

482.

The beam of the flashlight MacDuff had given her had fallen on the earth where Jock had been sitting.

482. The numbers were etched deep in the earth. The numbers were repeated over and over. 482. 482. 482.

“Jane.”

Her head rose at MacDuff’s call and she hurried toward the car.

H
ow is he?” Mario asked as she came out of Jock’s room.

“I don’t know.” She glanced back at the door. “He seems almost catatonic. Poor kid.”

“It may be my religious upbringing, but I’m having trouble pitying a murderer.” His lips tightened. “And when you think about it, if he worked with Reilly then he’s one of them.” He held up his hand. “I know. I’m in a minority here. But I can’t give him either understanding or forgiveness.”

“Then you’d better stay away from MacDuff,” Trevor said. “He’s a little touchy right now.”

Mario nodded. “I’ve no desire to antagonize him. He may still be able to get something out of Jock.” He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

“Four eight two,” Trevor repeated, his gaze on the bedroom door. “Is he still saying it?”

She nodded. “Like a mantra.”

“But that mantra didn’t start until he hit that particular stretch of road. Has MacDuff tried to ask him any questions?”

“Not yet. Would you?”

“Probably not. We don’t need the boy going into meltdown.”

“It’s pretty sad that we have to worry about what we need, not what Jock needs.” She stopped him as he opened his lips to speak. “I know,” she said wearily. “It’s necessary. And I’m the one who was all for pushing him to get the answers. It just breaks my heart to see him hurting like this.”

“Then the remedy is to either keep on until he comes through it, or back off and let him go back into his shell. He might get better in a few years. Then again, he might not. And can you justify the consequences of waiting?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.” He turned away. “But you’ll be better prepared if you know what he’s up against. I’ll work on it.”

“Four eight two?”

He nodded. “I’m no good at nurturing and soothing, but give me an abstract problem and I’m in my element. I’ve written down exactly what you told me Jock said tonight, and I’ll try to find a match for his obsession with that number. It may not be easy. Four eight two could be a lock combination, a partial number on a license plate, a speed-dial on a telephone, an address, a lottery number, a code for a security system, a password to get into a comput—”

“I get your point,” Jane said. “And if you continue to go through the options, I’ll get more depressed than I am now. Just do it.”

He nodded. “I’ll take the easiest first and work down.” He paused and put his hand gently on her arm. “Go and get a cup of that coffee from Mario. You look like you need it.”

“Maybe I will.” His touch felt warm and comforting and she didn’t want to move away from it. She gave herself a moment before she straightened away from him. “And I’ll take one to MacDuff too. He’s not going to leave Jock. He’s hovering over him like a mother with a baby. It’s weird to see a man as strong as MacDuff act that maternal.”

“He may have thought he was acting for the best by throwing Jock on his own tonight, but there’s always an element of guilt in situations like this. I’ll get back to you as soon as I come up with a list of possibles.”

W
ake up.”

Jane opened drowsy eyes to see Trevor kneeling beside her easy chair, his hand touching her cheek. “What . . .”

“Wake up.” He smiled. “I may have found something. No guarantees, but it’s worth a try.”

She straightened in the chair and shook her head to clear it of sleep. “What’s worth a try?”

“Four eight two. I fooled around with telephone speed-dials for a while and then went to the addresses. You said Jock didn’t start freaking out until you began driving down the stretch of road that bordered the two subdivisions. I accessed the street maps on the Internet. No four eighty-two in the golf community, but Mountain Streams subdivision has a four eighty-two.” He gave her the printout. “Four eighty-two Lilac Drive.”

Excitement surged through her, but she tried to be coolly reasonable. “It could be a coincidence.”

“Yes.”

To hell with being reasonable. She wasn’t going to rob herself of hope. “Could it be Reilly’s address?”

He shook his head. “According to the Net the present residents are Matthew Falgow, his wife, Nora, and daughter, Jenny. Falgow is a local union leader, with a reputation as clean as a whistle.” He handed her another sheet. “Here are their photos at the last union election they attended. Cute kid.”

She nodded absently as she gazed at the photos. An attractive couple in their forties with an adorable fair-haired little girl who looked to be four or five. The dossier on Falgow was as squeaky clean as Trevor had indicated and certainly contained no hint of a subversive taint. “No connection with Reilly . . .”