Operation Sheba (31 page)

Chapter Forty-Eight

It made a cool picture, Conrad thought, except for the fact he and Smitty were wearing flexi-cuffs and facing the business end of a Magnum .44 with Susan Richmond’s finger on the trigger.

The partners stood on the lone boat dock, side by side. Conrad’s hands were completely asleep and his arms tingled as his circulation continued to be cut off.

But even though he and Smitty were about to die, he was glad Julia was safe. She’d pulled off the stupidest, most asinine move he’d ever seen, but she was alive.

Stone had made it too. With Conrad out of the picture, maybe Julia’d go back to him and live happily ever after.

Over my dead body
.

“You’re toast, Susan.” He took another step back. Smitty did the same. “Even your backup plan failed. Stone and Allen are alive and they know everything. Why kill us now? You’re only adding murder to your list of crimes.”

Susan smiled at him. “I’m starting over, Flynn, and you’re the only one who could possibly track me down. It’s time for me to be rid of you once and for all.”

Behind her, a helicopter rose over the hill and zeroed in on them. Susan looked over her shoulder at it and while she did, Con whispered to Smitty, “You know how to swim with your arms tied behind your back?”

The look Smitty sent him was total disbelief. “No problem,” Conrad said, even though this was a big fucking problem. “Just jump in the lake when I say.”

“Looks like our time is up.” Susan tightened her grip on the gun. “Back up another step so when I shoot you, your bodies fall in the water.”

Conrad took another step, a big step, back. His heel was almost hanging off the edge of the dock. Smitty turned and looked over his shoulder at Con, his face white, his eyes wide. Then he glanced at the water and the mist rising all around them, but he didn’t step back.

Smitty was scared shitless.

“Move,” Susan ordered him, but he just stood frozen to the dock.

Con saw Susan’s cool slip a notch, saw her hand twitch before she pushed the end of the Magnum against Smitty’s forehead. “I said, move back.”

And then Conrad heard Smitty laugh low in his throat. “No,” he said. “I’m done taking orders from you, Susan. You can’t order me to my death.”

Holy crap, Smitty had just grown a spine. Conrad cleared his throat and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Hallelujah!”

At that moment, the Forever Flowers van came careening out of the woods, doing, Conrad guessed, about twenty miles an hour more than it should have been. It swerved, righted, swerved again. Ace was driving. Cari was hanging out the passenger window, yelling her head off and shooting at the sky with Conrad’s favorite HK MP5. “Now who has the big gun?” she screamed at him before ripping off another burst of bullets.

Susan jerked at the distraction and from behind her Cadillac, a SEAL, dressed in camo, rose up, his weapon pointed at her. “Stop!” he called. “Drop your weapon.”

Two more appeared out of nowhere, one from behind a rock, one from behind a tree. The helicopter swooped over them to land in an open sandy area.

Susan looked in all directions and lowered her gun.

But she didn’t drop it.

The turn she executed was sharp, her gun hand snapping up and pointing at Conrad. As he saw her finger pull the trigger, he pushed off the dock with his toes and dropped like a weight into the water.

In the helicopter, Julia’s hand was pressed flat on the door. She saw the SEALs emerge from their hiding places. She saw Susan give up.

And then she saw her turn. Saw Susan raise her gun and heard the gun go off over the sound of the helicopter blades.

Her hand slammed against the door, and she screamed Conrad’s name as his body dropped off the dock like a dead man.

Before Buchanan could set the helicopter firmly on the ground, Julia shot out of it, running toward the dock for all she was worth. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Worley jumped into the lake after Conrad as Susan was disarmed by Harris. He was handcuffing her as Julia approached. Without hesitating, Julia pulled out her gun and stiff-armed Susan in the head with it as she ran by. Susan went down on the dock with a heavy thud.

Passing Smitty, Julia stuck the gun back in her waistband and dove in after Con.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Susan Richmond admired the beads made of Czech glass hanging in an explosion of iridescent red, electric blue and pale green around her wrist. She had purchased the trinket on Nerudova Street, a winding walkway of designer shops and cafés in
Mala Strana
, for less than twenty American dollars. It was a nice addition to her collection of jewelry souvenirs from the European cities she had visited so far.

Making her way past Prague Castle, she continued to survey and enjoy the architecturally stunning capital of the Czech Republic.
Stare Mesto
, the Old Town, and
Mala Strana
, the Lesser Town, were equally rich in art, music and culture. A perfect blending of medieval and modern. A mecca for someone with her tastes.

Out of habit, she stopped several times along the way to check if anyone was following her. It was easy after a few weeks of watching and not seeing a tail to grow careless. She was determined not to. Moving around from one European capital to another kept her alert while providing a multitude of places to blend in amongst the thousands of residents and tourists bustling around. Her trail was growing cold to the CIA and that lessened her anxiety, but she would continue to move around for another year, maybe two, before she settled in one place for any length of time.

That was all right with her. At first she had been furious both her plans had failed so miserably. After all the planning and strategizing, to have it end with her on the run was ridiculous. But of course she had planned for that outcome, just in case, and it had paid off. The bribe for the convenient mix-up during her booking. The help of a certain CIA administrator she’d been sleeping with for years to get her out of the country. The promise to a certain dictator that she could supply him and his friends with unending information about the United States’ plans for them. All of it had paid off. She had plenty of money to support her travels and plenty of smarts to keep herself alive.

St. Vitus Cathedral, the final resting place of St. Wenceslas, rose up before her and she stopped. The church’s immense stature alone was mesmerizing, its doors beckoning her inside.

The smell of Catholicism, burning candles, wood and peace, filled her nostrils as she entered. It had been years since she’d been in any church, but in this place, she fell naturally into the movements and rituals all Catholics learn. She automatically genuflected and made the sign of the cross before entering a pew to sit down.

She allowed herself to daydream for awhile in the safety and sanctity of the cathedral, enjoying the quiet sounds of priest robes and nun skirts and murmured prayers. Tourists came and went. Others—mothers, fathers, friends—came and bowed their heads, lit candles, prayed in pews. Susan closed her eyes and waited for her lover.

She heard the man before she saw him. Heard the brush of his coat on the end of the pew. With her eyes still closed, she smiled. Finally, Jurgen had come. He had been promising to catch up with her as soon as he was sure no one was following him. Susan knew today was the day they would be together again.

Opening her eyes, she took in the brown hair, perfectly trimmed over the collar of the man’s black trench coat and felt a spurt of uncertainty. It wasn’t Jurgen, but the man was familiar. She fingered the bracelet. Something was wrong. Where was Jurgen?

A second man moved into the pew directly behind her, the lightest touch of his fingers grazing her neck. Cold fear ran down her spine. She glanced around. The church was suddenly too empty.

“Enjoying your vacation, Chief?” the man behind her murmured in her ear.

She went utterly still at the sound of his voice. It couldn’t be. For all of her vigilance, she had still become the cornered animal. Forcing herself to breathe, she continued to face forward, daring either man to make a scene.

And then, Julia Torrison plopped into the pew next to her. “Wow, how did you get that nasty bruise on the side of your face?”

“You.” Susan couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice. “How did you find me?”

Julia smiled. “Your boyfriend ratted you out right before I put a bullet in his head.”

Susan’s chest heaved as she gulped air. It wasn’t so much Jurgen’s death that shook her, but the fact she had truly been beat at her own game by one of her pupils. Her mind grasped at straws. “You killed him? You’ve never even shot anyone.”

“Wrong. I shot Benito Raines.”

Susan stared at Julia’s eyes. She didn’t believe she’d killed Jurgen, but there was something there, something more hardcore than Susan had ever seen in Julia before. She looked away, spoke over her shoulder to Conrad Flynn. “I thought you quit the CIA. Why are you tracking me?”

Flynn’s chuckle was hot on her neck. “Still have sources feeding you from the inside, don’t you? I’ll be sure to hunt them down too.”

Regaining some of her composure, Susan was still aware of the pulse beating wildly in her head. “The game is over for me, Solomon. You were all just pawns in it and now it’s done. I have no interest in any of you anymore. I’m an old woman. I just want to be left alone. You’re safe.”

Ryan Smith turned in the pew in front of her, resting his arm on the back and giving her a crooked grin. “We’d like to take out a little insurance on that.”

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “What kind of insurance?”

Flynn’s fingers were suddenly around her throat, tightening just enough to make her gasp. She dug at his fingers with her own, the glass bracelet tinkling from her desperate movements.

He spoke in her ear. “Let’s go back to your motel room, and we’ll talk about it.”

Chapter Fifty

Michael was barely putting one foot in front of the other, and Brad was having no trouble keeping up twenty feet behind him. He was sweating like a pig, but by God, he was running. The surgeons had done a good job and the wound in his upper chest was healing nicely. Only a pink scar and a little pain when he ran reminded him of his close brush with death.

He had relived the hostage situation over and over again in his mind. Saw himself going down those basement stairs to turn the generator on. Saw Brad with the gun held at his temple. Felt the blow from the rifle.

There were nights when he swore he heard Raissi’s voice outside his bedroom door. There were dreams where he stared down a bullet.

And lost.

He would wake, a scream echoing inside his head, and he would think of Julia.

Stopping on the path, he bent over at the waist and rested his hands on his knees. He pulled in several deep breaths and caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Damn, and me without my oxygen,” the man said, and Michael looked up. Conrad Flynn stood a few feet away, laughter in his eyes.

Pushing himself up, Michael felt anger explode deep in his stomach that the man he hated almost as much as Fayez Raissi had caught him at a weak moment. “Do you have something to report, or are you just here to annoy me?”

Flynn looked toward the lake as he reached in his pants pocket and drew out a multicolored glass bead bracelet. Throwing it to Michael, he said, “The job is done,
boss
.”

Michael let it drop on the ground near his feet. Feeling the pain over his heart subsiding, he drew in one more deep breath and put his hands on his hips. “Did you kill her?”

Flynn shook his head no. “Jules wouldn’t let me.”

At the mention of Julia, Michael looked away. “You brought her back, though? Turned her over to authorities?”

“We turned her and Jurgen Damgaard over to Titus an hour ago. He and a few special friends of his met us at the airport. Susan won’t get away this time.”

It was done. The problem had been eliminated. Michael didn’t have to worry about Julia’s safety anymore. He could rebuild his Operations group and move forward.

But it ate at him that Titus had used Flynn to bring Susan back. “How many people have you killed?” he asked.

Flynn shot a dark look at him. “You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?”

Michael shrugged. “Technically, you don’t work for me in any official capacity right now. Technically, on the books, you’re still dead.”

Flynn shrugged. “Not as many as you think.” He shifted his gaze back toward the horizon and squinted. “But enough.”

“No surprise.” Michael stretched his arms over his head. “Smith has been reinstated as Chief of Operations/Europe, has received a glowing letter of appreciation from President Jeffries, and will be honored with the distinguished CIA Intelligence Medal. Ace Harmon has been cleared of his fugitive status and will receive a letter of commendation from the DCI before the end of the month. Cari Von Motz is working with Titus to secure a tight prosecution of Susan in return for her own leniency.

“Julia has been offered, but has not yet accepted, Susan’s position as Counterterrorism Chief, and I’ve accepted the Deputy Director of Central Intelligence position to replace Damgaard. What about you, Flynn? What are you going to do with yourself now?”

“I also received a presidential letter of appreciation, you know. President Jeffries was quite abundant in his praise of my
honorable
actions.”

Michael crossed his arms and waited.

Flynn laughed, shook his head. “No quarter from you, huh? Actually, Titus and I were just discussing my options at the airport. He said it was up to you whether I still had a job or not. He says he put in a good word for me.”

Michael clamped his jaw and looked out toward the lake. He kept his voice level. “He suggested I offer you my previous position as Director of Operations.”

Flynn whistled under his breath and then laughed. “You and me together in the same building every day. How long do you think it would take us to kill each other?”

“Do you think you deserve such a promotion? I don’t.”

“Why do you hate me so much? Is it that whole Navy-Jarhead thing? Did I fuck you over in a previous life or something?” He tapped his temple with a finger. “Oh, right. I forgot. That was
this
life, wasn’t it?”

“You are such an ass,” Michael said. “What in God’s name does Julia see in you?”

“You know, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Michael’s fist moved on its on accord, slamming Flynn in the eye and sending him down on his back in the dirt.

“Damn, that hurt.” Michael shook his fingers out and held his left hand out to stop Brad from approaching. “And yet, I’m pretty sure I want to do it again.”

“Uh-oh,” Ace Harmon and Ryan Smith said at the same time. Taking their matching pairs of binoculars away from their eyes, they exchanged a glance.

“Maybe I better run down there and break this up before it gets out of hand,” Ace said.

They were lying in the grass fifty yards uphill from the path watching the scene below. Smitty shook his head. “No way. The first rule of surveillance is to never give your presence away.”

“What if they kill each other?”

“It won’t go that far. Stone’s security officer will stop it if necessary.”

Ace brought his binoculars back to his face. “Mikey’s a big guy. Think Connie can take him?”

“With or without his gun?”

Ace shot a glance at Smitty again. “Tell me Connie’s not armed.”

“He’s not armed.”

“Shit,” he said at the obvious lie.

“The man is
always
armed. His hands alone are a lethal weapon.”

“Why did Big Mike hit him? I thought he would be happy you guys found Susan Richmond and brought her back to the States.”

Smitty shrugged. “My guess is they’re talking about Julia.”

“Oh. This is going to get ugly, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Smitty dug in his pants pocket and pulled out a small camera. “And I’ve got video.”

“I got a twenty says Flynn wins.”

Smitty eyed Ace with disbelief. “You want me to bet against the Great Conrad Flynn?” He laughed, bringing his binoculars back up to his eyes. “You’re on.” The two shook hands.

“Shit,” Conrad spit out, holding a hand over his eye. “What’d you do that for?” He tried to sit up with the little balance he still had.

“Don’t go and mess with Julia’s head again, Flynn. She deserves better than that.”

Michael Stone wasn’t as gimped as he’d thought. “Save it.” He blinked through his hazy view to gauge how far he had to move to reach Stone’s legs. “I’m back in the living world. I’m free to do what I want and what I want is to make up for lost time with her.”

Stone took a step closer to him and Conrad flinched at the thought of another blow. When Stone stuck out his hand, palm up, Conrad stared up at him, calculating the sincerity of the offer before he accepted it. Stone hauled him to his feet, but Conrad didn’t let go. In the next second he hooked his foot around Stone’s leg and pushed him backwards. Stone held on and pulled Conrad with him, twisting and throwing him to the ground.

Damn, for a guy who’s been shot recently, he’s stronger than I expected
. Conrad got in a stomach punch before Stone could block it, and he heard the man grunt, but his satisfaction was short lived as Stone’s left hand shot out, looking to make contact with Conrad’s face.

Conrad dug his heels in and pushed up, causing Stone’s fist to land on his collarbone. Rolling away, he jumped up on his feet, but lost his balance and staggered backwards a couple of paces. Breathing hard, he watched Stone slowly get up on his knees, then his feet.

“You are an arrogant piece of shit,” Stone said, between breaths, but he didn’t make any move toward Conrad.

Conrad laughed. He and Stone both needed this. Physical release of their hatred for each other. “And you hit like a girl.”

As expected, Stone rushed him. He turned sideways just before impact to embed his elbow in the man’s ribs, but it was an even trade. Stone sunk his right fist into Conrad’s kidney and they both crashed to the ground again.

Five minutes later, both men were panting and dripping sweat as they hung over at the waist, staring each other down. “Give up?” Conrad said, praying Stone would say yes.

Stone wiped at the blood on his bottom lip. “Never.”

But Conrad took it as a good sign he didn’t come at him. His legs were shaking and he was still seeing two of everything. Maybe it was time for a distraction. “Did Julia…ever tell you…about her childhood?”

Stone blinked and looked away. Conrad recognized he’d hit a nerve. “She didn’t share her past with too many people.” He coughed between breaths. “She didn’t want them to look at her…you know…like a victim.”

Stone’s eyes narrowed as he met Conrad’s again. “But she told you.”

Conrad straightened up. “Her real father was never in the picture. When Julia was four years old, Valerie married Jimmy Valhuis. He was abusive to both of them. A year after Val and Jimmy married, Eric was born.” Conrad paused as Stone stood up, eyeing him warily. When Stone made no move toward him, he relaxed his guard. “Jimmy didn’t usually take his anger out on Eric, but one day, when Julia was eleven and Eric was six, Jimmy came home from the local bar and found the boy in Julia’s room playing with her Barbie dolls. He went ballistic and started beating Eric up. Julia was scared, thought Jimmy was going to kill her little brother. Mom was at work, and she didn’t know what to do.

“Jimmy kept a piece of metal pipe beside his bed to defend himself, Julia said, in case someone broke into their house in the middle of the night. She ran into the room, grabbed the pipe from under the bed and went to kill her stepfather. He had Eric down on the floor strangling him. Julia walked right up behind him and laid that pipe across the back of Jimmy’s head twice, knocking him off Eric, but not knocking him out.”

“Christ,” Stone muttered, rubbing his forehead.

Conrad continued. “After a minute he gained his feet and went after her. He ended up breaking her arm, but he never touched Eric again. She said from that point on, Jimmy focused most of his abuse on her, and she took it because it was worth the price to keep her little brother safe.”

“Jesus Christ.” Stone walked several paces away, hanging his head.

Conrad knew exactly how he felt. “Makes you want to hunt the guy down, doesn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t already.”

“Crossed my mind more than once, but it seems like revenge on Jimmy Valhuis is Julia’s prerogative. She’s a better person than I am. She’ll never do it.”

Stone shook his head in disgust and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

Conrad wiped his own face off with his hands. “All these years, she’s been trying to make the world safer for everybody else and wanting more than anything to feel safe herself. She felt that way with me, and then I betrayed her. I have a lot to make up for.”

Stone shook his head. “She’s better off without you.”

Conrad felt his anger rising again. “You’re saying that because you still want her for yourself.”

“She’ll come back to me if you just leave her alone. I can give her the sort of life she deserves. All she wants right now is some time to sort things out.”

“You don’t get it, do you? She’s not coming back to you. She’s not coming back to the CIA
because
of you.”

Stone didn’t answer, but turned his back to Conrad and started walking back the way he’d come.

Conrad raised his voice to Stone’s fleeing back. “If you expect Julia to come back to you, you’re dreaming.”

Stone turned on his heel and pointed an accusing finger in Conrad’s direction. “Julia blamed herself for your death and you let her. You are a walking, breathing lie, Flynn. Nothing more, nothing less.” The finger was in Conrad’s face now. “She trusted you. You had this wonderful woman and you tossed her aside like yesterday’s paper for your
job
.”

The finger turned back to Stone’s own chest. “I’m the one who picked up the pieces after you deceived her. I’m the one who held her when she cried. I’m the one who helped her get her life back here in America. Not you.”

Conrad wanted to grab Stone’s finger and break it. Instead he took a step back. “Will you leave the Agency for her? If she doesn’t have to face you every day, she’ll take Susan’s job.”

The muscle in Stone’s jaw twitched and he dropped his hand back to his side. “I don’t love my job any more than I love Julia, but I won’t walk away from the CIA right now. Too many people are depending on me.”

Conrad laughed. “Exactly what I told myself when I faked my death. If I didn’t flush out the rogue CIA, others were going to die, my country was going to be compromised, Julia’s life was at stake.” He looked at Stone. “So I saved the day, but I lost something more valuable.”

“And now you think you can reclaim it.” Stone shook his head. “Love doesn’t work that way. Leave her alone.”