Kodiak Sky (Red Cell Trilogy Book 3) (32 page)

CHAPTER 39

“H
ELLO,
S
TEWART,
”
Ja
ck said as he moved into the study as if on a mission, right up to where Baxter was standing, with a shell-shocked expression. “It’s been a while since I met you at Walter Reed after the assassination attempt on President Dorn in LA. Almost a year, isn’t it?” Jack turned toward Espinosa, who had stood up as well. “Hello, Justice Espinosa, I’m Jack Jensen. I’m Bill Jensen’s son. I’m sure you know who he is.” He pointed at the doorway. “And that is Commander Skylar McCoy.”

Baxter’s eyes opened even wider as he followed Jack’s gesture and for a moment locked eyes with Skylar when she entered the study as well. “What are you two doing here?” he snapped as he glanced back at Jack. “I’ll have both of you arrested.”

“I believe pressing charges would be up to Justice Espinosa, since this is his home,” Jack answered. “And if I heard his wife correctly a few moments ago, and I think I did, he’ll certainly have the chance, because it sounded to me an awful lot like she was going to call the police.” Jack handed Espinosa a manila envelope resembling the one Baxter had brought with him. “I don’t know what Mr. Baxter’s tried to convince you of, sir, but in that envelope I just gave you is one of two original Executive Orders signed by President Nixon to establish and protect Red Cell Seven.”

“How the hell did you two make it here?” Baxter whispered.

“That woman,” Jack said, gesturing at Skylar. “As I believe you know, her survival and kill skills are impressive, and that’s the understatement of the century.”

Skylar had appeared out of nowhere in the cabin hallway, behind the man who was aiming the shotgun at Jack. She’d put the man down fast with two wicked punches to the head and a vicious body kick. He’d screamed for mercy as she’d inflicted terrible pain, so the other members of his team, who were still shooting as they closed in, stopped their barrage. She’d yelled that she’d kill the man immediately if they kept shooting.

The short standoff had given the men who’d accompanied Skylar to Harpers Ferry just enough time to reach the cabin. As she’d made clear on that hillside overlooking Route 340 in West Virginia, the men in the black shirts and camouflage pants were serious people. None of Baxter’s men had survived, and their bodies were now at the bottom of Seneca Lake, secured to heavy rocks.

Jack pointed at Espinosa. “You know all about Red Cell Seven.”

Espinosa nodded. “Yes, I—”

“Jack is lying.” Baxter spoke up confidently. “The two Orders I gave you are the originals.”

“Mr. Baxter is the liar,” Jack retorted. “He’s also an accessory to murder. He had Chief Justice Bolger killed a few mornings ago on Constitution Avenue. We have a record of a wire transfer from an account Mr. Baxter controls, which was sent to the brother of the man who drove the truck that killed Chief Justice Bolger.”

Espinosa glanced over at Baxter, then held up the two pieces of paper Baxter had given him to the light, one after the other. “This one is a forgery,” he said firmly as he brought the second piece of paper down from the light. “There is no 3-D marking on this piece of paper, Stewart.”

Baxter clenched his jaw. “Remember what I have,” he sputtered, pointing at the cell phone lying on the table. “Now, Henry,” he said after a few moments, “I suggest you give me all three copies of the Order you are now holding.”

Espinosa stared at Baxter for a long time. Finally he shook his head. “I’m not giving you anything, Stewart,” he said. “I don’t give a damn about that video anymore. You do what you want with it.”

“Very well,” Baxter said, grabbing it off the table, “I will.”

“You do,” Skylar snapped as she stepped forward, “and I’ll kill you, Mr. Baxter. And you know I mean it.”

B
Y SEVEN
p.m. President Dorn was so sick he had to be transported by ambulance from the White House to the ICU at Walter Reed. Despite his rising fever, he was hoping to see Shannon to give her encouragement.

But Shannon was already gone. The Ebola virus had taken her life an hour before.

J
ACK STARED
through the thick glass at Karen, who lay unconscious on the hospital bed, quarantined. She had been injected with the Ebola virus shortly before being rescued, but was not expected to live.

He bowed his head until it came to rest on the glass. If she died, it would all be on his shoulders—which made everything even worse, if that were possible.

His cell phone rang, and he pulled it slowly from his pocket. Troy was calling. At least one of them was doing better.

“H
ELLO,
J
ACK,
”
Troy whispered.

Jack took Troy’s hand as he reached the bedside. “Hello, brother.” Troy and Karen were being treated in the same hospital in Washington. Jack had simply needed to take the elevator up two floors to get to Troy’s room. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Troy smiled weakly. “I’m going in for more surgery tonight, but they say I’m going to make it.”

“You’re indestructible. You always were.”

“I don’t know about that,” Troy said softly, “not anymore, anyway.” He glanced up. “How’s Dad?”

“Still in intensive care,” Jack answered. “You were right. Maddux knifed him in the neck. He’s lost a lot of blood. It’s still touch and go. The doctors are saying fifty-fifty, but I think they always exaggerate to the good.”

“What about Baxter?” Troy motioned deliberately at the TV on the wall. “He’s in jail, right?”

“Yes, as an accessory to Chief Justice Bolger’s murder.”

“What about President Dorn?”

“They took him to Walter Reed thirty minutes ago. It looks like he’s contracted the Ebola virus as well, though you won’t hear about it on television. The administration is keeping that very quiet, for national defense reasons, of course.”

“Of course.” Troy took a deep, troubled breath. “What about Karen?”

Jack’s lower lip trembled involuntarily as waves of emotion welled up inside him. “It doesn’t look good, Troy.” He forced back the tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Troy suddenly seemed upset. “You okay? You need a nurse?”

Troy shook his head. “I have to tell you something.”

“My God,
what is it
?” Tears were suddenly falling down Troy’s cheeks. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his brother cry. “What’s happening?”

“I had to tell you this face-to-face, man-to-man, and maybe most important, brother to brother. You are my brother, Jack. More than that, my God, you’re the person I’m closest to in the world.”

Jack stared at Troy so hard everything else in the room faded to nothing. “What the hell?” he whispered, as the pounding of blood in his head became so hard his vision blurred with his heartbeat. “What’s going on?”

Troy held up the vial. “Someone gave me this,” he explained with a shaking voice. “It’s an antidote to the Ebola virus. It is enough to save only one person. Daniel Gadanz sent it to me to put me in hell.”

“Give it to me, Troy!”
Jack shouted. “Give it to me right now so I can save Karen!”

“I can’t, Jack,” Troy gasped. “I have to save the president. I took an oath.”

“You
cannot
be serious.”

Troy coughed hard several times. “I’m absolutely serious. I’m sorry, Jack. I had to tell you this face-to-face. I owed you that.”

Jack lunged for the vial. “Give me that vial.”

“Nurse,” Troy yelled as loudly as he could. “Nurse, help me!”

CHAPTER 40

C
HIEF
J
USTICE
Henry Espinosa relaxed in a wingback chair of his office at the Supreme Court, waiting patiently.

Two hours ago his office had been swept for listening devices by members of the Secret Service, and they’d determined it to be pristine.

One hour ago the office had been swept by an electronics expert Espinosa had known personally for years and trusted completely. As he’d watched, the man had found and disconnected three tiny listening devices.

The knock on his office door was firm and authoritative.

Espinosa rose from the chair and moved across the thick rug. “Hello, Stephen,” he said politely as he opened the heavy door. He was still wondering when those devices had been planted and why the official experts hadn’t found them—or if they were the ones who’d planted them. “Please come in.”

Stephen Hudson had been David Dorn’s vice president. In less than an hour Hudson would be inaugurated and become the country’s forty-fifth president.

Dorn and Hudson had never been close, Espinosa knew. The ticket had been arranged by party leaders purely for political purposes, purely to garner votes. Hudson was a fair-haired senator from California who didn’t even get along with Dorn, but he’d served his purpose. He’d guaranteed the state’s truckload of fifty-five electoral votes for Dorn—and sealed the election.

Then, for all intents and purposes, Dorn had cut Hudson loose. Since the election, they’d met only four times, and Hudson had become little more than a figurehead. He’d tried to lead several high-profile employment initiatives, but he’d gotten no support from the White House, and the initiatives had withered on the vine before ever getting traction.

For the last year Hudson had accepted his situation and eased all the way into the background. But his role was about to change dramatically, and Espinosa was about to initiate the change.

“I won’t be calling you Stephen much longer,” Espinosa said with a smile when they were seated, facing each other. “Very soon it will be Mr. President.”

Hudson’s eyes gleamed. “Sometimes life works in strange ways, Henry.” He leaned forward. “Now tell me why I’m in here meeting with you alone when I’m being inaugurated by you in forty minutes.”

Espinosa leaned forward as well. Typically it would have been the outgoing president and his chief of staff who would have called this meeting just prior to the inauguration. But that wasn’t possible this time.

“I need to tell you about one of the most tightly held secrets of the office you are about to take over,” Espinosa explained in a hushed voice. “I need to tell you about Red Cell Seven.”