True Honor (7 page)

“Sorry. I should have warned you they’d lift your prints.”

“Don’t be. I’m just amazed the Department of Defense agreed to send over mine for comparison.”

Darcy tucked her IDs in her pocket and hesitated. “Gabriel didn’t make the decision that I go alone to the meeting.” She felt it needed to be said. She knew when Sam met Gabe he’d be judging her partner based on what had happened.

Sam tucked his ID away. “He’s your partner. He should have been there or had someone else there, if only in the background.”

Darcy knew partnership had a unique implication for SEALs. If one went into danger, his partner and his team would be right beside him. “It’s not so easy in my profession, Sam. The message Sergey sent through his embassy requested a one-on-one meeting with me. The diplomatic dance over such procedures is part of the foundation of how we function.”

“What went wrong?”

“I wish I knew. For the same reason the director needed to honor the request, my safety should have been guaranteed. The fact it wasn’t will ripple for years. A spy war may have started tonight and I don’t understand why.” She worried about the five agents who had yet to report in, afraid the body count would go higher. “Gabriel’s a good man. This wasn’t his fault.”

“Relax. I promise to suspend judgment.”

She was overprotective of her partner’s reputation, but she didn’t want these two men misreading each other. She had a feeling Sam might be in her future, and he had to get off on a good footing with Gabriel or she would find herself in a tough position—stuck between a man she’d trusted for years and someone new she wanted to trust. If forced to choose, she’d come down on Gabriel’s side out of loyalty.

She parked beside her partner’s car. “Welcome to the place we call Langley, the name itself the first of many myths you’re about to walk into. There is no such place on current maps, as Langley no longer legally exists.”

“Dar, you haven’t seen myths until you start to talk to SEALs about our jobs.” Sam got out of the car and scanned the campus. “Should be interesting.”

* * *

Their escort took them to the third floor of the old headquarters building, and from there one of the four security guards for the floor took them the rest of the way to Gabriel’s office in the code word–cleared hall.

The office hadn’t changed since her days on the job. Darcy had a habit of beginning her day in Gabe’s office, reading the overnight intercepts, debating the importance of news and adding color commentary. Gabe made this job survivable. He understood her often-scattered way of connecting information.

He had his wheelchair up to his desk, his head back, his arms crossed over his chest, apparently napping. She lifted a corner of the towel over his face. “Hi.”

“You know, I’m really missing the days when I didn’t have a partner. When was that, 1970? ’80? When Carter was president? Or was it Ford? The good old days where my age came from fast living and beautiful women, not pacing because my partner got into a jam without my company and took her time calling me.”

Darcy grinned down at him. She had really missed him. She’d promised Marla she would keep him alive, and she’d done it for years. Then he’d come home and gotten married. He had been hit by a car shortly thereafter and left needing crutches to walk. When the exhaustion was bad, he accepted the wheelchair to keep his mobility. He hadn’t been home today, if his rumpled clothes and six o’clock shadow were any indication. Darcy kissed his frustrated forehead. “Sorry. I missed you too.”

“Sam, hi. Join us,” Gabriel ordered, his gaze never leaving Darcy as she settled on the couch. Sam took the second chair. “And, Dar, the blouse and earrings from our last Paris trip is a nice touch, but I’m not ready to be distracted even by a subtle reminder of our past successes. What happened to that street-fighter uppercut you were famous for?”

“Professional courtesy. I’d hate to let it be said that I hit first.” She stuck her coffee mug in a holder she’d improvised two years ago from a cutoff map tube that still sat on the shelf by the couch. “You look good, Gabriel. Marriage agrees with you.”

“Marla is an angel, but don’t change the subject. I want to be annoyed with you a while longer.”

“You can’t; I’m too cute,” she countered, knowing he’d eventually forgive her for the fright she’d given him. Gabriel laughed. “The doctor swears I’ll be fine,” she promised. “Is Sam cleared for this discussion?”

“He’s cleared higher than me.”

They both looked at Sam. “NEST job,” he said simply.

NEST as in Nuclear Energy Search Team. They recovered lost, stolen, or accidentally made live weapons. The nasty stuff that gave her nightmares, and Sam was perfectly correct to simplify—she did not want to know details.

She looked back at Gabe. “How bad has it been tonight?” she asked softly.

“The last five have reported in, limiting the losses to two.”

“Still unbearable. How’s the investigation coming?”

“It’s a muddled mess of jurisdictions at the moment. It will be midmorning before we know much concrete. Let’s leave those discussions for later, Dar. We’d just be speculating now. What happened tonight?”

She retrieved the soggy note from the portfolio carefully drying out between two Kleenexes. “Sergey left a note.”

Gabe took it carefully. “
‘It was necessary.’
Is it okay if I swear?”

“About my sentiments too,” Darcy agreed. “Necessary for what?”

“Sergey’s old school. Maybe he knew someone was going to grab and sweat you for names of contacts and he tried to kill you with kindness first so they couldn’t grab you.”

Darcy winced, as did Sam. “Why don’t you start off with the cheerful assumptions here.”

“Okay, maybe he wants the bounty on your head,” Gabe offered.

“If he was motivated by money, he would have taken the five million dollars I offered him years ago to work for us.”

“True. Our Russian friends at the embassy were stunned when they heard about the attempted hit. Given the aggressiveness of their denials and outrage, they probably were in the dark. They’ve been somewhat helpful in the hunt to find him, although we’ll probably find Sergey dead if they reach him first. I’m stumped because we don’t have enough on the other two hits tonight to suggest a connection to you beyond the obvious one of timing.”

“Any idea where Sergey went when he left the hotel pool area?” Darcy asked.

“Does the business Bluebird Charters ring a bell?”

“Never heard of them.”

“Sergey apparently got on one of their boats near Miami.”

“He gets seasick.”

“I know. It’s curious. A gate attendant at the Tallahassee airport also swears Sergey caught the 11 p.m. United flight to Dallas. He also drove to Georgia, and/or got his picture taken at a twenty-four-hour deli buying red hair dye.”

“He vanished.”

“Basically. Most civilians want to be useful, so they’ll remember what didn’t happen trying to help out.”

“Sergey’s good. If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be,” Darcy commiserated.

“You have the transcript as best you remember it?”

She handed him the lavender-colored pages of notes. “Have we been able to locate Sergey’s family?”

“The last good intel is from Spain but it’s four months old. They haven’t been watching so closely now that he’s retired. The station chief is checking it out for me.” Gabe handed her a stack of intercepts. “I pulled everything NSA had. There was one intriguing lead on where Sergey may have been recently.”

She started reading the intercepted calls the National Security Agency collected from all over the world. “Guam? What do I know about Guam?”

“Not as much as you’re going to.”

“That’s all I need, another island to add to my mangled sense of geography.” She turned pages. “Did you keep my reading music?”

“Darcy.”

“You kept my goldfish.” She tapped the glass, then leaned over to look closer at the fish tank. “No, those are smaller than my fish.”

“I killed yours; I was hoping you wouldn’t notice the switch.”

She laughed. “Mine swam in tight circles like a spinning top when someone tapped on the glass. It took months to train them.”

“You had too much time on your hands. Your tape is on the top shelf on the left, headphones too. Although how you can think with that noise is beyond me.”

“Habit.” She got up to get the cassette player.

“She’s partial to opera,” Gabriel explained to Sam. “Before I read this transcript, would you take me through what you saw tonight? Focus on the approximate times?”

Darcy stretched out on the couch with the headphones on, tuning out the guys’ discussion as she read through several months’ worth of scraps of information on Sergey and his family. Some were phone intercepts; some were sightings by intelligence services. Some of it was financial records. Gabriel had been able to find a large amount of information in the few hours he had been working the problem. What had Sergey been doing in Guam three months ago? Meeting someone?

* * *

The old clock on the wall chimed 3 a.m. Darcy closed the stack of reading material and rubbed her eyes. “I’m missing stuff. It’s time I got some sleep.”

Sam turned in his chair beside Gabe’s desk to look back at her. “You’ve been quiet for so long I thought you were asleep.”

She shifted the headphones and the sound of Verdi’s
Rigoletto
at full volume filtered into the room. “I was thinking.” She swung her feet to the floor. Gabe and Sam were still going strong. They’d hit it off after Gabe’s comment about opera and turned their attention to analyzing the transcript. She’d known the two of them would be like two peas born in the same pod.

“Stay at Marla’s place today, okay? Just for my peace of mind?” Gabe asked. “The Brits are there, but they’ll make room for you.”

Her partner’s wife had kept her former home as they had been in no hurry to sell it after the wedding. The security system there was world-class. Since it would let Darcy offer Sam more than just a hotel room for his stay, she nodded her thanks. “I appreciate that.”

Sam got to his feet. “Thanks, Gabriel.” He handed back the folder he’d been reading. “This was useful.”

“Anytime.”

Darcy noted the red stripe on the folder and the code word
Duplicity
in blue on the tab. Sam had been reading about Ramon Santigo. She looked at her partner but didn’t ask why he had shared the information. She understood why he was worried about that rising bounty. She personally didn’t think they would raise it much above the million pounds. The Santigos weren’t that generous.

If given a choice she wouldn’t have shown Sam that information, for it would now factor into decisions he made. She didn’t need more people in her life worried about her safety. “I’ll call when I wake up this afternoon,” she promised Gabe.

“I’ll be near a phone.”

They were escorted downstairs and Darcy waited as Sam signed out. They walked across the parking lot.

“Gabriel said the Brits are staying at Marla’s place. Let’s call first. Since they’re with the SAS, it’s probably best not to drive up to the house and knock in the middle of the night.”

Sam held the car door for her. “Don’t worry about it. Chances are they’re old friends.”

“Really?”

“Special Operations is a very small world.”

She didn’t ask; she knew the British and American Special Forces cross-trained to the point they could deploy to common missions around the world if necessary.

Darcy gave Sam directions. She had fifteen years of history with Gabriel, and she trusted him with her life. He’d given her a safe place to decompress. The options of a hotel or a return to North Dakota both had numerous problems until this was sorted out.

Darcy pointed out the house. The porch light was on. “They’re expecting us.” Sam pulled into the driveway. A tall man stepped outside moments later, a coat folded over his arm. He wore a black turtleneck and black jeans. Sam stepped from the car.

“Gabriel mentioned you were the escort. Jolly good to see you again, Cougar.”

“Hey, Brandon.”

Darcy watched the two men greet each other; it was indeed a small world. “Darcy, my friend Brandon Scott. He’s a good tactics man.”

She offered her hand. “High praise.”

“It’s a pleasure, Darcy.” Brandon settled the coat across her shoulders as luggage was gathered. “We made up the east guest room for you. And Gabriel mentioned I’m to ask what kind of bagels he’s to bring over later.”

“Oh, I’m getting spoiled already. Blueberry.”

Darcy relaxed as she stepped inside the familiar home. She was glad Marla and Gabe hadn’t yet had time to sell this house. It was spacious and comfortable and had a great view as it adjoined a stretch of forest preserve.

Sam came in behind her, carrying her suitcase and his bag. “Why don’t you get settled while I fix us something to eat? You’ll sleep better if you eat before you turn in.”

She nodded and turned toward the bedroom. Darcy took her time unpacking the bag she had picked up at her place. She put her diary on the end table and opened her Bible to read a verse she had underlined.
“For God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control.”

Time had always been one of the most overtaxed commodities in her life. She didn’t always have time to look something up or have the luxury of taking documents with her. It had always been what she had memorized that kept her safe and alive. Applied to Scripture, it was a habit that transformed her life.

This verse from 2 Timothy was a powerful one. The phrase “a spirit of power and love and self-control”—what a wonderful definition of balance. Take out any one of the three items and the other two led to extremes, but taken together they made greatness. The words reminded Darcy of her sister.
Jesus, thanks for blessing me with great family.

She left the rest of her suitcase packed.

Sam was in the kitchen building a monster of a sub sandwich. She slid onto a stool and held her hand up, her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I’d like about this much of that feast.”

“From the hot mustard end or plain?” Sam indicated options with the sharp knife he held.