Cross Roads (13 page)

“T
hat won't be necessary, Mrs. Emery. As you so accurately pointed out, time is of the essence,” Ambrose Fallon said in a clipped British accent.

Nikki took pleasure in seeing the sheen of perspiration on the head of MI5's forehead as the air-conditioning was so cold she was shivering. She watched, as did Kathryn, as the man's gaze went around the table, finally settling on Fergus Duffy, the head of Scotland Yard. The group's spokesperson, she decided. She risked a glance at Hank Jellicoe and was more than pleased to see the war going on in his eyes. For all intents and purposes, it appeared that one Hank Jellicoe had been relegated to the number six position on the totem pole.

“We're listening,” Kathryn said coldly.

Fergus Duffy, who looked like he could be the world's grandfather, cleared his throat. “A while back—eighteen months ago, to be exact—we picked up on some chatter that did not bode well for your current president and her administration. When we as a group, and I am including Mr. Jellicoe in the group, went to your CIA, they professed not to have heard the chatter. As a group, we found that a little hard to believe. To our credit, again as a group, we didn't sweep it under the rug. We pursued the matter. Mr. Jellicoe, to
his
credit, agreed to put his life on hold and to go
deep
, as the saying goes. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. We, the group, met in secret, and it was Mr. Jellicoe who feared that you…
ladies
…would somehow find out and take matters into your own hands. He said we couldn't risk that happening.”

“Find out what?” Nikki said.

“Before I answer that question, I want to refresh your memory on a few matters. You do recall that the current administration back in the beginning was plagued with problems. First, it was the vice president, then it was key positions occupied by people who had their own agendas. Every day there was a resignation, a new appointee, until we, as a group, started to get nervous. When we get nervous, the world gets nervous. It got to the point where your own president didn't know whom she could trust. That's when she implored your friend Elizabeth Fox to help her, which Ms. Fox did.

“President Connor granted your pardons against all advice, and in doing so made quite a few enemies in her own administration. As you both know, the lady is a woman of her word. So she held out, and today you are free women. I don't think there's any need for us to go into the president's personal relationship with Mr. Jellicoe. It is what it is.”

“Fine, fine, we know all this, so what is your point here?” Kathryn asked irritably.

“The point is…your CIA is denying that there is a problem, which is why the director of that organization is not among those briefing you here, when in actuality there is a very
big
problem facing your president. Someone is planning to kill her. I can't be any more explicit than that. Your Department of Homeland Security is following the lead of your CIA, which is remarkable on the face of it, leading us to believe there is a mole in either the CIA or DHS, possibly both. All your alphabet agencies in Washington like to act independently and not tell each other what is going on. Our countries have a good relationship with your new president, and we'd like to keep it that way. Our organizations, on the other hand, do not have a similar regard for your CIA. If your people continue to ignore what is going on, great harm can and will befall President Connor.”

Nikki grimaced. “Eighteen months have gone by, Mr. Duffy. Nothing has happened to our president. Have you considered the fact that maybe the chatter you heard was just that, someone expounding out of frustration or more likely stirring the pot so you all got your knickers in a knot?”

“Actually, we did consider it, but we all, as individual agencies, came to the same conclusion. The chatter, the source, was legitimate. Mr. Jellicoe went to President Connor and apprised her of what we all thought was going to happen. She in turn raised all kinds of merry hell with the CIA and DHS. All that did was alert them to the fact that we were onto something. Hence the delay or lack of activity. Which translated means they're lying low. As I said, Mr. Jellicoe, with our approval, decided to take action because we
knew
President Connor's next move would be to contact you via Elizabeth Fox.

“None of us had any doubt that you vigilantes would ferret out the mole and take care of him or her, as the case might be, but taking out the mole wasn't important enough by itself to allow you to do so. We need to neutralize the cell, the organization, and you ladies, according to Mr. Jellicoe, are not equipped to take on a mission of that sort. It goes without saying that we no longer agree with him.”

Nikki looked at Kathryn and burst out laughing.

“Really!” was all Kathryn said. Fergus Duffy and the others had the good grace to look embarrassed, which only made Nikki and Kathryn laugh even more.

When Nikki was finally able to catch her breath, she said, “So here we are, eighteen months later, and you're right back at your starting point.” She fixed her icy stare on Hank Jellicoe and said, “You decided to play God with our lives. You separated us all, you made it impossible for us to be in touch, you paid outrageous sums of money when all you had to do was talk to us. You robbed us all of eighteen months of our lives, and I, for one, am never, ever going to forget that, Mr. Jellicoe. You are now on my radar screen, and I feel confident enough to speak for my fellow Sisters when I say you are now officially a target for the vigilantes. Normally, we do not issue a warning. We simply act. I want to be clear on that in case any of you have a problem with what I just said.”

Five hands waved in dismissal, which meant that none of the group originally at the table had any problem with Nikki's words. Jellicoe simply glared at both women.

“I couldn't take the chance you'd screw it up. Women don't belong in this business; it's too dangerous. I was actually trying to protect you. Why can't you see that?” he said coldly.

“Because we don't think with a dick like you do,” Kathryn snarled. “You really need to get over yourself, Mr. Jellicoe. I feel confident enough right this minute when I say I think we could have settled the matter eighteen months ago. Instead, here we are, cruising at however many feet, and you are sitting there with your tail between your legs. Do you mind telling us what went wrong? And then I think it's time for
someone
to tell us what it is you want from us. Like
NOW
!”

Ari Gold took the floor. “Mr. Jellicoe, with all his connections, decided to infiltrate an organization he thought was the source. He arranged to get all of you as far away from Washington as was humanly possible, and it's obvious he succeeded. He had some plastic surgery, dyed his skin, as you so aptly pointed out, and went to ground in the hopes of ferreting out our mole. All of us created a dossier of this bad boy with millions on his head, meaning Mr. Jellicoe. We had him covered eight ways to Sunday. It didn't work. Eighteen months later, he's come up with dry hole after dry hole. If all of you hadn't chosen to mutiny when you did, we'd still be chasing our tails. None of us are proud of our current situation. I also want to make it clear right now, this very second, that Mr. Jellicoe implored us to prevent your escapes from happening. He wanted you detained at various airports, but we refused. We are now taking matters back into our own hands, where they should have been from the beginning. Which then brings me to your question at hand. What do we want from you?”

“I can't wait to hear,” Kathryn said sourly. Nikki nodded.

“We want to hire you. All of us,” Ari said sternly. “Oh, one other thing—you can all forget about repaying Global Securities the monies Jellicoe paid out to you. You owe him nothing. You keep your bonuses, because we all contributed to them. None of us want you to think he was that generous. Name your price, and it's yours. We are not prepared to quibble.”

Nikki leaned closer to the table. “You want to hire the vigilantes to…I assume, ferret out the mole who is either at the CIA or Homeland Security. We're free agents today, thanks to our pardons. Why would you even think we'd give that up to help you?”

“Because we will guarantee no harm will come to you in that respect. You will be bona fide secret agents working for us to help your president.”

The Frenchman from the Sûreté spoke. “If you so much as get a traffic ticket, all you have to do is make one phone call, and it never happened. As you Americans like to say, we have your back, your front, and everything in between covered. Are you interested?”

Nikki was so interested she wanted to leap across the table and hug the man with the lovely accent. She sensed the excitement in Kathryn and decided to play it cool. “We might be. ‘Might' is the operative word here. If, and I want to stress the
if,
we decide to help you, we would of course want proper paperwork drawn up by Elizabeth Fox. We will need to confer among ourselves as to remuneration. I have to warn you, the fee will be so far outside the box and over the top you might want to reconsider your offer.”

Five of the six dismissed the comment as though Nikki were discussing the price of lettuce.

“Where does that
schmuck
fit into all of this?” Kathryn asked.

“I am not familiar with the term, Miss Lucas,” the man from Interpol said.

“Jellicoe, the son of a bitch sitting right there, the idiot who is responsible for all of this, that
schmuck.
”

“Ah, I see. An advisor, nothing more. He had his chance, and he failed. You should consider him as someone you used to know.”

Kathryn laughed. Nikki thought it was the most evil sound she'd ever heard in her life. She grinned from ear to ear. To make her point, she got up from the table, walked around to where Hank Jellicoe was sitting, and leaned down. “First rule, Mr. Jellicoe, never let someone tower over you, especially a woman. From this moment on, you are number one on the vigilante hit list. The time and place has yet to be determined. You can run, you can hide, but we
will
find you.”

Nikki turned to look at the others. “Will your blanket immunity cover such a thing, gentlemen? Think carefully before you answer.”

There was not a moment's hesitation. “Absolutely,” came the reply.

Kathryn allowed herself a small giggle. She looked up at Nikki and laughed out loud. “See how easy that was? We'll need at least thirty-six hours before we give you our answer. How do we get in touch with you?”

Ari Gold tossed Kathryn a burn phone and said, “Power up and hit the number one and I'll be on the other end, no matter the time of day or night.”

“The payment would have to be in advance. No one trusts the Swiss anymore,” Nikki said.

“Understood. If you agree to sign on, it will take at least forty-eight hours to transfer the fee to wherever you want it.”

“You do understand that if we agree to sign on, as you put it, we will need time for Ms. Fox to handle matters for us. I would think, if we agree to help you, five days from today you will hear from us one way or the other. Do you find that acceptable?”

Five heads nodded affirmatively.

Kathryn stood up. “The red light is on. That means we're getting ready to make our descent.” It was all Kathryn could do not to burst out laughing when she saw Nikki wag her finger under Hank Jellicoe's nose and whisper loudly enough for everyone to hear but still low enough to be menacing. “Remember, Mr. Jellicoe, you're
ours
!”

On the way back to their seats in the front of the plane, Kathryn whispered, “Those guys hate his guts, did you notice?”

“Oh, yeah, I noticed. But no one can hate that man as much as I do. Having said that, I think we're in business again, Kathryn.”

“What was your first clue?”

Nikki grinned. “Damn, I feel good!”

“Not half as good as I do,” Kathryn said.

 

The moment Jack, Bert, Nikki, and Kathryn stepped onto the tarmac, a groggy Murphy next to them, the portable stairs were wheeled away and the door to the plane closed. Wind from the powerful jets made conversation impossible, but each of them knew what the other was screaming as they ran toward the barricade that would allow them access to the Dulles terminal.
They aren't getting off; they're heading right back
.
No one can prove they were ever here.

Inside, the women smoothed down their hair, shrugged their clothing into place, and looked at one another. With no one about at this hour except maintenance crews and a few airline personnel, Nikki leaned against the wall and started to cry. “I cannot believe I'm here. I'm home. I think this is the happiest day of my life.”

Kathryn rushed to Nikki and clung to her. “I thought this day would never come.” She leaned closer and whispered in Nikki's ear, “I'm going to find a way to kill that son of a bitch with or without your help. Just so you know.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Nikki whispered in return.

Jack felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention when he saw the expressions on the two women's faces. He mentally thanked God he wasn't going to be the recipient of whatever they'd be planning. He sneaked a glance at Bert, who appeared to be on his wavelength. “Let's get this show on the road,” he said gruffly. “The sooner we get through Customs, the sooner we can be on our way to the farm. It should be quick and easy, with no baggage and nothing to declare.”

Thirty minutes later, Jack found himself airborne. And then, in a heartbeat, he was being smothered by one Harry Wong.

“I'm feeling the love, Harry. You can stop hugging me. Ahhh, you aren't going to kiss me, are you? Shit, Harry, now for sure people will talk. Christ alone knows how I missed you, buddy. Ahhh, Harry, I didn't know you knew how to cry,” Jack said, wiping his own eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.