Sins of the Titanic (A James Acton Thriller, #13) (39 page)

“I’m
afraid, Mr. Mashkov—”

“Ilya.”

“—that
you’re mistaken.”

It
appeared his charms were wasted on this woman, which made her even more
attractive to him.

You
always desire what you can’t have.

Fortunately
there were few things in this world he couldn’t have.

“Nadja,
we’re all friends here, how can I help? My first duty is always to my
colleagues—I would do anything for them.”

“Except
apparently follow the security protocols laid out for you when you were first
admitted into the organization.”

Mashkov’s
chest tightened instantly and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears.

They
know about the email server!

He tried
to keep the panic off his face. He had to assume they knew everything, and
lying wouldn’t help. But they couldn’t possibly know what was going on in his
mind. “I assume you’re speaking of the external email routing I set up?”

“I am.”

He waved
his hand as if it were nothing. “That’s nothing. My server is completely
secure, it’s impossible for anyone to crack the encryption. I merely set it up
so I could save time. It allowed me to devote more of my limited time to the
organization’s business.”

“I’m
afraid the others don’t see it that way.”

His
heart was pounding rapidly now, sweat trickling down the back of his neck, his
fingers recoiling instinctively, a little more distance now between him and the
woman who a moment ago was the object of his desire, and now the source of
nothing but fear. “I’d be happy to explain my reasoning, and of course comply
with any security protocols they feel are necessary.”

“Unfortunately
it’s too late for that.”

“Wh-what
do you mean?” It was the first crack in his voice, the first break in the
façade he had been trying to maintain.

“I mean,
Mr. Mashkov, that because of your actions, the CIA was able to locate one of
the darknet routers the organization uses. Because of that, they were able to
track your unsecured server, and through that, all of the messages you sent
through it.”

“But
they’ll never crack the encryption!”

“It’s
the CIA, Mr. Mashkov. They
will
crack it, it’s just a matter of time.”

“What
are you saying? Are you saying that the CIA will be able to identify who we
are?”

Katz
suddenly stood, stepping back from him. “I’ve been told to give you a message.”

He
breathed a sigh of relief.

A
message. A message I can handle.

“Y-yes,
what is it?”

“The
Assembly doesn’t tolerate mistakes.”

She
quickly drew her weapon and pointed it at him.

“Wait!”
he cried, raising his hands in front of him, jumping to his feet. “There has to
be another way! I’ll pay you! Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it.
Triple it! Anything you want, I can get for you. Anything!”

She
tilted her head slightly to the side. “I want nothing you could possibly
offer.”

She
squeezed the trigger.

The
round slammed into his chest, there no real pain at first, just the shock of
being hit. He stumbled backward, the bottom of his legs hitting the couch,
sending him back into his seat as he grabbed at his chest.

And then
the pain came.

Intense.

White
hot.

Unlike
anything he could have imagined.

He
looked down and felt a surge of adrenaline at the sight of his own blood oozing
out over his fingers. Katz stood in front of him, her weapon pointed at his
head.

“Please,
wait,” he said, raising a hand. “Do one thing for me, please.”

Katz
paused, moving the weapon aside. “What?”

“Tell my
son I love him.”

“Very
well.”

She put
another bullet in his chest as the doors to the room opened, Dimitri stepping
inside.

“Is it
done?”

Katz
nodded.

“Very
well. I’ll clean up.”

You
bastard.

Acton & Palmer Residence, St. Paul, Maryland

Acton looked at the patio table as he flipped the hamburgers and
smiled. Milton and his wife were laughing with Laura, Tommy, looking much
better than he had several days ago, was casually whispering to a giggling Mai.

It was
good to see her so happy.

She had
been really shaken up by the events of a few days ago, though once Tommy had
been released from the hospital, they had been almost inseparable. He had
worried about how she would adjust to life in America after having been torn
from her home in Vietnam, but it looked like she was going to be just fine. Even
if Tommy ended up breaking her heart, as young boys were prone to do, she would
do fine.

He
caught Laura looking at him, a slight smile on her face. He winked, flipping
the next burger. After Laura had been shot they had received the devastating
news that they wouldn’t be able to have children because of it. It had been a
crushing blow to both of them, and sometimes when she thought she was alone,
Acton could hear her crying.

And that
always got him started.

It was
odd that a young Vietnamese woman in her early twenties could somehow fill some
of that void, yet she had, Acton starting to think of her as an adopted
daughter, Laura even voicing the same thing only last night.

The way
Mai clung to Laura when saying goodbye, and now gave Acton a quick hug instead
of a handshake showed him that the bond being created was mutual.

The
doorbell rang and he handed the lifter to Laura. “I’ll get it. Just finish
flipping them for me, will you?”

“I think
I can handle that.”

She rose
and took the lifter as he walked by, giving her a little smack on the bum.

“Get a
room!” shouted Tommy, laughing.

Acton’s
eyes flared suggestively at Laura. “Sounds like a good idea.” The doorbell rang
again. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” He hurried through the patio door and into the
kitchen, rushing toward the front door. He pulled it open and nearly shit his
pants in shock.

“Hiya,
Doc.”

Acton
shook his head, mouth agape at the sight. Dawson and Red were standing on the
doorstep, their arms full of groceries. “What are you two doing here?”

“Heard
you were having a barbecue.”

Acton’s
eyes narrowed. “What? I…”

He was
flabbergasted, his mind still not comprehending what was going on.

“Umm,
these are getting kind of heavy, Doc.”

Acton
looked at Red, the words not registering for a moment. “Oh, shit, sorry guys!
Come in, come in! Your timing couldn’t be better. I just started cooking a few
minutes ago.” He looked at the bags. “Christ, looks like you brought enough to
feed an army.”

Red
shrugged. “We’s hungry boys.”

Dawson
stepped inside, Red following. “We would have been here on time but
somebody
got lost.”

“I
didn’t get lost. You just give horrible directions.”

Acton
led them deeper into the house toward the backyard, still not believing these
two Delta operators were actually here.

Laura’s
not going to believe this!

“You
know, Doc, BD can find his way out of the Arabian peninsula with a toothpick
and a candy bar wrapper, but throw some street signs up and he gets all
confused.”

“I have
a tendency to want to go as the crow flies.”

“It’s
true. You don’t know how many times he says ‘through there!’ and points at some
office complex. If he were a GPS they’d be banned.”

“Look
who’s—”

Acton’s
jaw dropped again.

“Hiya,
Doc!”

Ten guys
were standing in the back yard, beers already in hand, all Delta operators they
had come to know over the years.

“What
the hell—”

“Sorry,
hon, it’s my fault. BD called to give us an update and I invited him over.”

“Then
one thing led to another, and this little surprise was born,” said Dawson.

“I hope
you don’t mind,” said Niner, stepping forward and shaking Acton’s hand.

“He would
be the one thing that led to another,” said Dawson, taking a beer offered up by
Atlas. “Once Niner hears there’s meat involved, he’s unstoppable.”

“Hey,
I’ve got family back in Korea to feed. If I can save on groceries, then I can
send more to them.”

Eleven
men groaned, Acton laughing, his head still shaking. He put an arm around
Laura.

“This is
great, guys, absolutely great. A few years ago if you had arrived here, I’d be
returning fire”—laughter erupted—“but now, after all we’ve been through
together”—he squeezed Laura against his side—“our home is your home. You’re
always welcome here.”

Beers
were raised amid shouts of “Hear! Hear!”

Dawson
looked at the small barbecue. “You call that a barbecue?”

Acton
looked at it, suddenly feeling a little less masculine. “It does the job.”

“Ha!”
cried Atlas, slamming his hand on a large oil drum barbecue Acton hadn’t
noticed until now. “
This
is a barbecue.”

“Yeah,
for
one
if Atlas is manning it.” Niner pointed at the massive man. “He
eats half of what he cooks.”

“Taste
testing, my man, taste testing. I want to make sure you guys get only the
best.”

Spock
guffawed. “If we’re to believe
you
, half the meat in the country is
bad.”

“
I’ll
man the grill,” said Dawson, stepping over to the large barrel and flipping
open the top.

“Grill
Master Dawson to the rescue!” laughed Jimmy as a bag of charcoal was brought
forward.

That was
when Acton noticed half a dozen coolers filled with beer, lawn chairs already
being opened.

They
go into battles and barbecues fully equipped.

Acton
took over from Laura on his puny barbecue, Dawson soaking his charcoal in
lighter fluid beside him. He struck a match.

“Fire in
the hole!”

Acton
ducked to the side as a fireball launched itself half a dozen feet into the
air, Bravo Team roaring in approval. Laura handed Acton his beer, taking up
station beside him.

“So,
anything we need to know about?” asked Acton, dying to know what was going on,
Dawson only having told him several days ago that something was in the works and
to not worry, they were being watched. He had tried to spot the protective
detail, but hadn’t caught anyone.

Satellite?

He had
no idea, but these guys were all in the neighborhood for some reason. It made
him wonder if they had been their guardians over the past couple of days.

“The
painting has been taken into custody by the Feds,” said Dawson, taking a swig
of his beer.

“Yeah,
they’ve got a nice spot for it, right beside the Ark of the Covenant,” said
Niner, laughing. “Did you see in that opening scene of Kingdom of the Crystal
Skulls where you can see the Ark in one of the shattered crates?”

“Are we
back on the movie trivia again?” groaned Atlas. “Give it a rest.”

“Hey,
pop culture is the only culture some of us have.”

“I’ll
pop you some culture.” Atlas made a fist. Niner darted behind Acton.

“Save
me, Doc.”

“You’re
on your own, kid.”

The
others roared.

“I’m
hurt, Doc, genuinely hurt. After everything I’ve done for you.” Niner sniffled.
“I’m going to go over here. Atlas, get me a tissue.”

Acton
shook his head, grinning. He turned back to Dawson. “So the painting is gone.
That will be a bit embarrassing on the academic circuit for a few years but
I’ll get over it.”

“Nothing
we can do about that. There’s no official record of Captain Wainwright’s ship
being in the area, but the Navy isn’t willing to risk the story getting out so
it’s been buried.”

“And the
Wainwrights? They’ve agreed to keep quiet?”

“Yes.
They’re terrified of losing any more family so they won’t be saying anything,
and without the painting, they have no proof.”

“But are
they safe? Are
we
safe?”

“You
will be shortly.”

“I don’t
understand. Who was behind all this?”

Dawson
shook his head. “The less you know, the better. Let’s just say they shouldn’t
be bothering you anymore.”

“How can
you be so sure?”

Dawson
leaned toward Acton and Laura, lowering his voice slightly. “Because our
friends at Langley are sending them a message.”

Acton’s
eyes narrowed. “What kind of message?”

“The
kind they won’t like.”