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The Colonel's Widow? Page 6


  She nodded without speaking. Picking up a wool jacket, she glanced around for anything else she needed to take back to the ranch.

  Rook took a step backward. “Now.” He sent a brief glance around the room, then turned on his heel, leaving her to follow.

  By the time Irina got to the front room, Rook and Special Agent Taylor were talking intensely in hushed tones, and Deke was pacing. He looked up as she came in.

  “Hey, Irina. How’re you doing?”

  “Fine,” she said shortly, and immediately regretted it. “I’m okay. How are you? And Rook?”

  Deke shrugged. “He’s afraid someone’s going to get hurt. He’s trying to work out a failsafe plan with Taylor.”

  Irina frowned. “Well, first, he is too late. He has already hurt a lot of people. And second, when will he learn there is no failsafe?”

  “I’d think you’d know the answer to that question. You’ve been married to him for what? Six years now. He’ll never learn that lesson. Your husband is the most idealistic SOB I’ve ever met. He actually believes that Good will win over Evil and that one man can make a difference.”

  Irina raised her brows. “And you don’t?”

  Deke ducked his head. “I’m still working on happy endings.”

  “Don’t worry, Deke,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “You’ve got yours. Just make sure you don’t forget what a precious gift you have in Mindy and—Oh, my gosh! You haven’t named the baby yet, have you?”

  A grin transformed Deke’s features. “Oh, yes, we have. Deacon Robert Cunningham.”

  Irina stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Deke, I love it. I’m so happy for you.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t give up on Rook,” he murmured. “He loves you more than life.”

  She stared at him as he straightened. His mouth quirked and he tilted his head, as if to say “But then, what do I know?”

  “Irina.” Rook’s quelling voice hit her ears. His gaze snapped from her to Deke and back. “Ready to go?”

  She lifted her chin a fraction. “Yes.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Deke turn and practically run for the door. She couldn’t blame him. The ice between Rook and her was enough to freeze his nose off.

  She stepped past Rook and let Special Agent Taylor escort her out the front door of the cabin and into a black SUV with heavily tinted windows.

  As she waited uncomfortably for Rook to get in the seat beside her, Deke’s earlier words echoed in her ears.

  I’m still working on a happy ending.

  She pressed her lips together in an effort to hold tears at bay.

  At least you are working on it, she thought.

  Chapter Five

  Irina set the coffee carafe down and glanced at the clock over the door of Rook’s basement office/ conference room. Eight-thirty in the morning. At this point she wanted more than anything to go to her suite and take a long, relaxing bath, then climb into bed and sleep for about a week, long enough to forget this nightmare.

  But the nightmare wasn’t over. In fact, it was only beginning. During the two-hour ride back to Castle Ranch, Deke had filled Rook in on the details of what had happened in the past two weeks.

  He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, as if he were presenting the details of a budget request, or outlining the advantages of one helicopter over another. But his deadpan delivery didn’t soften the impact. Irina was shocked to hear all the details of what Matt had gone through, and all that Deke had endured.

  The realization that every bit of it had been put into motion by her decision to call off her search for Rook was daunting and sobering.

  Matt and Deke had put their lives on the line. Innocent people had been hurt and traumatized, because of her decision. People had died. Bad people—traitors, kidnappers, torturers. But still human beings.

  By the time the SUV veered from the main road onto a gravel drive that led to a garage underneath Castle Ranch, Irina had been queasy with horror over the consequences of her innocent act. As soon as the garage door had closed, Rook had stepped over to the wall and pressed a code into an electronic keypad. A hidden door had opened into the room she now was standing in—another safe room. This one was a soundproofed office suite, complete with a kitchen area and a bathroom. Even a minuscule elevator that ran to the large suite of executive offices on the main floor.

  It had always baffled her that Rook, the bravest man she’d ever known, found it necessary to have so many safe rooms and secret hideouts. But now it made sense. Without such precautions, he’d already be dead, several times over.

  Rook sat at the head of the conference table, with Deke and Special Agent Taylor to his right.

  Irina watched along with them as the other specialists came in.

  Per Agent Taylor’s instructions, the agents were brought down one at a time. Matt was brought in first.

  His face was as pale as the straps on his arm sling. Purplish shadows ran under his eyes. When he saw Rook, he swayed, grabbing the back of a chair to steady himself. But he recovered and greeted Rook with a big grin before lowering himself gingerly into the seat to Rook’s left. Irina caught the meaningful glance he sent toward Deke, and she saw the infinitesimal movement of Deke’s shoulders.

  Irina felt indignant on Matt’s behalf. Rook shouldn’t have made him come. He was obviously still too weak from surgery. From the looks of him, he probably shouldn’t have been discharged yet. After all, he’d almost died up on that mountain top fighting for Aimee and her little boy’s lives.

  The next specialist to arrive was Aaron Gold. A red scrape above his right ear spoke to his brush with death. The sniper’s bullet had missed his brain by a fraction of an inch.

  Aaron’s dark eyes behind his rimless glasses glittered and his face went ashen when his gaze lit on Rook, sitting at the head of the table.

  “Colonel!” he gasped. “You’re—Oh, my God!” He shook his head. “We all thought you were—”

  “Dead,” Rook responded. “I know.”

  Aaron nodded eagerly. Pink spots appeared in his cheeks. “This is unbelievable. I’m—What happened? Where have you been? Are you all right?”

  Rook nodded. “I’m fine. Have a seat, Aaron. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  Aaron’s eyes darted around the table as he sat. “Did you know about this?” he asked Deke.

  Deke shook his head.

  Aaron started to say something else, but at that moment the door opened again and Rafiq Jackson was standing there, leaning on crutches. His right pant leg was slit and his thigh was bandaged.

  Irina turned her attention to Rook. He hadn’t met Rafe, and she wanted to know what his first impression of the young man was. She’d never gotten to know Aaron very well. He was quiet and introverted. But she liked Rafe a lot. Maybe because he was the only member of the team that she’d hired. Or maybe because he was outgoing and funny and he seemed to have less to hide than either Aaron or Brock.

  When she looked back at Rafe, he smiled. “Good morning, Irina,” he said with a nod. Then his deep brown eyes slid to Deke and he nodded again. He planted the crutches in front of him and, looking down, swung forward a step.

  “Rafe,” Deke said. “Meet Rook Castle.”

  Rafe’s smile froze on his face. He stared at Deke for a second before turning toward the head of the table. Then, much like Aaron, his eyes widened and his face drained of color. He swallowed, opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again.

  “Mr. Castle. I mean, Colonel Castle. I—I’m—”

  Rook waited.

  “This is a true honor, sir. I’ve always regretted that I never got to meet you. I’ve been—It’s been a privilege to work here.” He stood stiffly, his knuckles white on the crutch handles. “I must say, I’m stunned.”

  Rook nodded. “I’m seeing a lot of that today.”

  Rafe’s gaze turned back to Irina and his brows raised slightly. “I’m certain of that, sir. Mrs. Castle, may I h
elp you with the coffee?”

  She shook her head. “No, thank you.” She intercepted an irritated glance from Rook. He’d told her to forget the hostess duties and concentrate on the debriefing, but she’d needed something to do. Otherwise she was afraid she might give in to panic and start screaming.

  Rafe took both crutches in one hand and lowered himself into a chair, wincing. Irina quelled the urge to go around the table and take his crutches before he dropped them. He had no business being out of the hospital yet, either.

  Two down and one to go. She glanced up at the clock again. Eight-thirty in the morning. Where was Brock? Usually he was the first one awake in the mornings, the first one to arrive at a meeting, and the last one to turn in at night. Had Rook left him until last for a reason?

  The doorknob turned and Brock came in. He looked like he always did. Crisp and neat—military neat. His shoes were polished, his slacks were pressed and his shirt was dazzlingly white. His good eye slid from face to face, until he met Rook’s gaze.

  Brock went still, reminding Irina of a champion bird dog on point. His body was perfectly balanced, his senses razor sharp. He exuded focus and concentration. No matter what might be required, he was ready.

  Rook’s head went up a fraction and his lips curved slightly. “Brock,” he said.

  “Colonel Castle.” Brock nodded once. Nothing else. No effusive greeting. No exclamation of joy that Rook was alive. Merely that simple acknowledgment.

  Yet she saw his hand twitch at his side. An odd reaction from the ex-Navy Seal whose survival had depended more than once on his self-control. Rook had told her stories about him. She glanced at Rook, wondering if he’d noticed, but his face revealed nothing.

  Brock sat next to Rafe and rested his clasped hands on the table. They were steady, motionless now.

  Irina picked up the tray of coffee-filled mugs and set it in the middle of the table.

  The men reached for the mugs—even Rook, and the small wrinkles between his brows smoothed out a bit as he took a long swig of the hot drink. His reluctant appreciation sent a little flare of triumph through her.

  After taking the last mug herself, she sat in the empty chair to Special Agent Taylor’s right. She wrapped her fingers around the warm mug and took a sip. It was good coffee, which made her wonder who kept the coffee down here fresh and the pot and mugs dust free.

  She realized Rook was speaking. With an effort, she concentrated on what he was saying.

  “I’m sure you all have a lot of questions,” he said, looking from Matt to Aaron, from Rafe to Brock.

  Rafe laughed quietly. Aaron and Matt nodded, and Brock didn’t blink or move a muscle.

  “Well, right now, we’ve just come from a confrontation with several individuals whom I’m sure were sent by Novus Ordo.” He nodded toward the right side of the table, where Deke, Special Agent Taylor and Irina sat. “So I apologize, but there’s no time for discussion about me and where I’ve been. Deke or I will fill you in on a need-to-know basis.”

  He leaned forward. “What we need to talk about right now is what happened this morning, and what precautions we need to take at this point. What I will say as a preface, is that I’m here because of everything that’s happened during the past two weeks. I look around this table. It’s impossible to miss that each one of you has been injured because of me. I regret that, and I regret that I can’t give you each time off to heal.”

  He waved his hand. “Don’t bother shaking your heads. I know, and I appreciate it. All of you have met Special Agent Dan Taylor, right? He’ll tell us about the prisoners. This is our first debrief, so I’d appreciate it if you’d hold any questions until Dan is done. Dan?”

  “Yes, sir. Colonel Castle and Lieutenant Cunningham faced three attackers at a facility owned by Colonel Castle. We don’t know at this point if the three were the only ones. Explosives destroyed the barn and two vehicles on the property. No casualties were found in the rubble. The three could have set the explosives prior to attacking, or they could have had help. We have two of the men in custody. The third was a casualty on site. No evidence of other accomplices.”

  Taylor flipped a page in his small spiral-bound notebook. “We had to notify the sheriff over there, because of the visibility of the explosion. We’ll brief you as needed about any contact you may have with that office. The Crook County medical examiner took charge of the body of the single casualty. The other two are in custody in the former Treasury Department building in Sundance. I have two men guarding them, but we haven’t had a chance to question them yet.”

  “Do you have photos?” Rook asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Taylor nodded to the Secret Service agent standing at the exit door. The agent retrieved a small manila envelope from his inside jacket pocket and handed it over.

  Rook glanced quickly at the three photos, then shuffled them and scrutinized them more closely.

  “We found a vehicle hidden in brush a mile south of the cabin. It’s a junker with expired tags. We’re tracing the last owner, but odds are it was bought or stolen from a junkyard. I don’t expect there to be any way to trace it.”

  Rook nodded. He handed the photos to Matt and gestured for him to pass them around.

  No one said a word as the photos changed hands. Rook watched as Matt, Aaron, Rafe and Brock examined the pictures.

  “If any of you recognize anyone,” Rook said, “speak up.”

  Dan jotted a note on his pad, looked at it for a moment, then leaned over and whispered something behind his hand to Deke. Deke cut his eyes over at Dan and then nodded.

  For the first time, Irina noticed how Dan was dressed. His slacks were perfectly tailored and she wouldn’t risk a dollar betting against that white dress shirt being handmade. His expensive clothes didn’t fit with the dog-eared dollar store notepad and cheap mechanical pencil he carried.

  “While you’re looking at pictures, I’ve got three more for you to see.” He gestured to the guard again and was handed another manila envelope.

  “I’ve e-mailed all of these to our computer expert in D.C. She’ll run them against our known terrorist database for a facial recognition match. I’ve ordered DNA and fingerprints and Special Agent Schiff has requested top priority for the results.”

  Dan handed the envelope to Rook, who looked at each one carefully. He glanced at Deke and then returned the pages to the envelope and handed them to Matt, who was seated directly to his left.

  Irina knew the photos were of the man who’d named himself Frank James and two of the terrorists who’d worked with him on Mindy’s kidnapping. And she knew the specialists’ reactions were being recorded. She watched carefully, wondering if she’d be able to spot any reaction.

  Matt took a quick glance through them and handed them on to Aaron, who seemed to know he was being scrutinized as he studied the faces. He quickly passed them on to Rafe and shook his head at Dan.

  “Nothing. I mean, there for a minute I thought I recognized that first guy, but no.”

  “I’ve never seen them, either.” Rafe handed the envelope to Brock. “You’re up,” he said, smiling.

  Brock glanced through the small stack of photos, shook his head and laid them down on the table. “Who are these guys?”

  “They’re the men who were after Deke in the mine.”

  He looked at Deke. “That first guy is the one who called himself Frank James?”

  Deke nodded.

  “That’s interesting.” Brock slid the folder across the table to Dan.

  “Interesting?” Dan repeated.

  “Jesse James was the more famous of the brothers, but a lot of scholars think Frank was the real brains.”

  “That’s what he said,” Deke remarked. “I goaded him about naming himself after the brother of an outlaw, and he said Frank was smarter.”

  Irina kept her attention on Rafe and Aaron. Rafe was following the conversation with his typical engaging fervor. Aaron was listening, but as was usual for him, he didn’t show much e
motion.

  Dan tapped the edge of the folder on the tabletop. “Do you think that’s significant?” he asked, directing his question to Rook.

  “You mean, do I think that it’s a clue to Novus Ordo’s identity?” He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  At the mention of the terrorist, both Aaron and Rafe tensed. But then, so did almost everyone else at the table. The notable exception was Brock. Still, he was the one that had introduced the conjecture.

  “I want to see the prisoners in the flesh,” Rook said. “How soon can you arrange that?”

  “If you don’t mind, sir, I’d appreciate it if we could keep them isolated for at least twenty-four hours.”

  Rook looked like he was going to object. Irina knew he didn’t find it easy to acquiesce to someone else’s authority. Especially someone like Agent Taylor, who was younger and much less experienced than he.

  Deke cleared his throat quietly.

  Rook’s chin lifted and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Fine. Make sure you understand that I’m not only concerned about the safety of my family and my employees. This is also a matter of national security.”

  “Yes, sir,” Taylor said. “The White House made it very clear that this team’s mission was to keep you and your family safe and to gather every bit of information we can about Novus Ordo. Oddly enough, Ordo seems to have disappeared around the same time you did. The destruction of the chemical munitions plant in Mexico two years ago was his last known attack.

  “Homeland Security has ramped up its surveillance of audio and electronic transmissions throughout the world, and we’ve upped scrutiny and troop availability in the Far East, especially the areas that join Afghanistan, Pakistan and China.”

  Irina doubted anyone in the room, except maybe Deke, noticed a difference in Rook’s attitude, but she had. A nearly imperceptible relaxation of the tension across his forehead told her that he was impressed with Agent Taylor.

  “So how long have you been on this assignment, Taylor?”

  “A month, sir. However, most of the team has been here since right after you disappeared.”