The Colonel's Widow? Page 7

  Rook blinked. He was surprised. Another thing he hadn’t known.

  “A month. So I can assume you’re not totally up to speed on the situation?”

  Taylor’s mouth quirked almost imperceptibly. “More today than yesterday. As Lieutenant Cunningham told you, he briefed me after he’d spoken to you. I was originally assigned here when the agent in charge had to take bereavement leave. At that time I was told we were guarding your wife, because of your connection with Novus Ordo and the international involvement and implications in your…death. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

  “Fine,” Rook said curtly, setting down his mug. For a few short seconds he stared at the surface of the coffee, or at his hand—Irina couldn’t be sure. “It’s probably as good a time as any to bring all of you up-to-date.”

  He raised his gaze and looked at each specialist. “Four years ago, I was asked by the president to go into Mahjidastan to rescue Travis Ronson.” He sent an apologetic glance in Aaron’s direction.

  Aaron nodded once, gravely.

  “We lost Norman Gold on that mission—Aaron’s dad. He died a hero. Matt and Deke were with the mission. Brock was holding things together back here, Aaron hadn’t joined Search and Rescue at that time. He was still in school.”

  Dan nodded eagerly. “I remember that incident. Ronson’s oldest son.”

  “Oldest of five.”

  Rook nodded. “He was a Navy fighter pilot and was shot down. Ronson is a close friend of the former president’s, and he couldn’t stand to think that Fred might lose another son. So we went in after him.”

  “That was you who pulled off that rescue.” The awe in Taylor’s voice was palpable.

  Rook nodded at Deke. “We had intel that Ronson was being held by the terrorist who had bombed a nuclear plant in India, killing thousands. Deke—Lieutenant Cunningham—flew a grid over the entire area, searching for signs of their camp. It’s damn rocky up there, but Deke spotted a small campfire and some tents. Before he could get away, Novus shot his helicopter down and took him captive, too.” Rook finished his coffee.

  Irina reached for his cup, but he checked her with a sharp gesture.

  “At that time, micro-GPS locators embedded under the skin were investigational. Deke had one of the first. Luckily it worked. We extracted Ronson and him without any further casualties to our side, but—”

  The tension and expectancy in the room was palpable. Dan Taylor leaned forward. Rafe and Aaron were both staring at Rook, entranced.

  “I came face-to-face with Novus Ordo.”

  “Without his mask,” Taylor breathed.

  Irina almost smiled. The special agent, who had to be four or five years younger than Rook’s thirty-three, was obviously starstruck by him. She could understand why. Rook had a presence about him. He was larger than life. Heroic.

  “I saw his face and he almost killed me. He managed to grab my dog tags. So I can identify him, and he knows who I am.”

  “So faking your own assassination was—”

  “A well-meaning but foolish attempt to stop Ordo from targeting me and my family.”

  Irina wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe everything Rook said. But in all the time they’d been married, the one thing she’d never had was Rook’s complete trust. He seemed to view everyone as a potential enemy—even her. And this moment was no exception. He didn’t glance toward her as he spoke. He didn’t look at anyone. He stared at his clasped hands.

  Matt sat up gingerly. “It was a good plan, until Irina was forced to abandon her search. Her decision was innocent, but Ordo had obviously been watching her for the past two years. He was alerted. He couldn’t afford to believe that she’d stopped merely because of financial problems, or because she’d gotten proof that he was dead. Ordo had to operate on the assumption that she’d found him.”

  Hearing those words in Matt’s low voice sent a shard of guilt stabbing into Irina’s breast. She could never tell anyone about the surprising feeling of relief she’d felt when she’d finally made the decision to stop putting money into the futile effort of proving her dead husband wasn’t dead.

  The truth was, after two years of hanging on to that tattered shred of hope, finally letting go had been a relief.

  Chapter Six

  She turned back toward the coffeepot as her face heated with shame. She felt Rook’s eyes burning into her back.

  “So, clever bastard that he is, Ordo managed to put a complex plan together in a matter of hours,” Deke threw in. “I don’t care if he did have two years to work on it, the plan he devised shows he’s a genius. The deadliest mistake we can make is to underestimate him.”

  Irina poured water into the coffeemaker and turned it on.

  “I left Mahjidastan within twenty minutes of hearing from Irina,” Matt said, “yet Ordo still managed to have me followed and contact one of his agents in the U.S. to kidnap baby William. He knew about my best friend’s widow and her son. And he knew I’d drop everything to save them.”

  When Irina turned around, it was obvious that Rook was listening intently, although his expression was stony. She could tell this was the first time he’d heard all the details of what had happened. She studied his face. It was impossible to tell if he was affected by the knowledge that she’d searched for him all that time.

  He really had cut himself off totally—and he’d done it for her safety.

  No, not her safety. The nation’s.

  Rook’s jaw muscle ticced. “Novus has made it his mission to know everything about the brotherhood, so—”

  “Excuse me, sir. Brotherhood?”

  Rook’s face lightened for an instant, then sobered again. “Matt, Deke, me, and Bill Vick. When we were around nine or ten years old, the four of us went on a mountain adventure and nearly died when a storm blew in. A brave man named Arlis Hanks lost his life rescuing us. Hanks was a combat rescue officer in the Air Force during Vietnam. Their motto is That others may live. We took an oath to live our lives by the same creed. I started Black Hills Search and Rescue to pay forward what Arlis Hanks did for us.”

  Dan scribbled something on his notepad. “Where’s Bill Vick?”

  Matt spoke up. “Bill Vick was my best friend. He died last year.”

  “And how does Novus know about this oath you took?”

  Deke shrugged. “He doesn’t. But he’s figured out that each one of us would give our life to save the others.”

  “Why we do what we do doesn’t mean anything to you,” Rook stated. “Just be aware that Novus Ordo has killed who knows how many people to protect his identity. And he will again.”

  Rook paused, watching the effect of his words on those gathered in the room. Brock and Aaron knew about the mission to rescue Ronson. Brock’s reaction was exactly what Rook had expected. No sign of surprise or interest. Aaron had joined Black Hills Search and Rescue just weeks after the rescue, so he knew most of the story.

  Rafe appeared spellbound, like a kid in the presence of his favorite superhero.

  Rook turned his attention to the Secret Service agent. Agent Dan Taylor was an interesting man. Six feet tall and well-built, he seemed more mature than his years. And something Rook said had affected him. Quickly replaying his recent remarks, Rook decided that it must have been the mention of the brotherhood. He filed that piece of information away.

  Taylor turned to Matt. “Lieutenant Parker, you said you were in Mahjidastan when Mrs. Castle called you?” he asked.

  Matt nodded. “Following up on a rumor that an American had traveled there recently. If Novus had a tail on me, it was a damn good one. I never caught the guy. But obviously, he knew the instant I left. Apparently knew I was there and was keeping an eye on me, so he had me followed back here to Wyoming. Then he kidnapped Bill Vick’s widow’s seven-month-old son in an effort to capture me.”

  “But his plan didn’t work.” Deke tossed back the last of his coffee and set the mug down on the table with a thud. “Any more than his plan to take
my wife hostage to force me to reveal where Rook was. And now he’s after Irina.”

  Taylor assessed Deke and Matt.

  Rook knew what he was thinking. “You’re wondering why Novus didn’t try something more direct, like stopping Matt before he got on that plane, or going after Deke instead of capturing his ex-wife.”

  Dan shrugged. “I’m guessing he knew they wouldn’t talk, with nothing at stake but their own lives. I’ve got to agree with Lieutenant Cunningham. Novus has to be extremely intelligent to plan and carry out all this on such short notice.”

  “Oh, he is.” Rook nodded. “But as Deke said, it’s likely he’s had tentative plans in the works for months—probably since I disappeared. Still, not only did he underestimate Deke and Matt, he underestimated Aimee Vick and Mindy Cunningham, as well. Even so, he accomplished his ultimate goal. He managed to flush me out. Now that he knows I’m alive—”

  “He’ll do whatever he has to do to destroy the man who exposed his true face,” Deke said, then paused, looking at Rook.

  “What about the CGI?”

  Rook’s gaze met Matt Parker’s. He sent him a nearly imperceptible nod.

  Matt stood and stepped over to a fireproof safe.

  Dan’s gaze followed him. “You have a computer-generated image of Novus Ordo? Who did the drawing?”

  “The CIA, using my descriptions.”

  “No hits?”

  Rook shook his head. “Not even close.”

  Her husband’s disgusted tone reminded Irina of how obsessed he’d been with finding the man whose face he’d seen. The lengthy phone calls with CIA, Homeland Security and other government officials, the numerous trips he made to Washington to look at photo arrays. The memories weren’t fond ones.

  They’d married a few months after Rook’s rescue of her father, six years ago. The first two years she spent learning to trust and love him and his country.

  Then, right when she was becoming comfortable in his love, he’d gone on that mission to save Travis Ronson and seen Novus Ordo’s face. So the next two years were lonely, as he spent most of his time obsessed with identifying the terrorist. And of course, these past two years she’d spent alone.

  Right now, standing here, watching her husband and the two men he trusted most in the world, assessing the nature and the source of the threat against their lives, it occurred to her that she’d have to dig awfully deep to unearth any fond memories.

  She held up the fresh carafe of coffee and glanced around the table. In response to the nods, she refilled mugs.

  Matt closed and locked the safe, handed a manila folder to Rook and returned to his seat.

  Rook forced his hands not to shake as he slid the photo out of the folder, just enough to see the subject’s eyes and nose.

  Novus Ordo. Latin for “New Order.”

  A surge of anger washed over him, surprising him. He hadn’t expected to react so strongly to the drawing. After all, the man’s face was engraved into his brain. He didn’t need a computer-generated image to remind him of what he looked like.

  Nor did he need to look at the photo of Frank James to know that the two men were brothers—that they could be twins.

  But he wanted to. “Hand me that photo of Frank James.”

  Dan picked up the folder and passed it to him. Rook held the two images side by side.

  No question. If they could get a hit off James’s prints or DNA, maybe they could finally identify Novus.

  He handed the two pictures to Dan, who grabbed them eagerly.

  “Pass them to Rafe when you’re done,” Rook said. Then he turned to Jackson. “You haven’t seen the drawing yet, have you?”

  Rafe shook his head, his gaze following the manila folder. “No, sir, I have not,” he said in his faintly British accent.

  Dan stared at the two images. Irina looked over his shoulder. The resemblance between the drawing put together from Rook’s description and the photograph of Frank James was amazing.

  “This is Novus Ordo?” Dan sounded stunned.

  No one bothered to answer him.

  “He’s American!” he exclaimed, then immediately corrected himself. “I mean, he’s—Anglo. Caucasian?”

  “Yeah,” Deke said flatly. “We know.”

  “And he and James are dead ringers!”

  Rook nodded. “Except that Novus is losing his hair.”

  “And in all this time, the CIA couldn’t find him?”

  “I’d have done it differently, but the CIA felt that starting with a narrow sample and gradually widening would eliminate even the slightest margin of error. So rather than publishing the sketch, they chose to start with criminal records.”

  “Mug shots,” Dan offered.

  Rook nodded. “I looked at every ugly, two-bit criminal in Wyoming and the surrounding states. And nothing. Which didn’t surprise me. My guess is that when we do find out who Novus Ordo is, he’ll turn out to be some formerly mild-mannered guy with no criminal record. The kind who’s easily swayed by whatever latest fad religion or cause comes along.”

  “Like Ted Kaczynski?”

  Rook nodded. “Probably never got a parking ticket. I wouldn’t have started with criminals, but I guess they had to start somewhere.”

  “What was their next step?”

  “Driver’s license photos. But I’m guessing that once I disappeared, they suspended the search. I mean, what would be the point? As far as they were concerned, I was dead.”

  “So not even the CIA was aware of your plan?” Dan asked.

  Rook felt an overwhelming urge to defend his decision. But he suppressed it. What was done was done. No matter whether he’d made the right decision or not, he had to live with it. He sent the young agent a quelling glare. “No.”

  Dan’s face reddened and he nodded. “Have you contacted them since you returned?”

  “Agent Taylor, I flew into Casper yesterday, using a counterfeit identity I set up prior to my disappearance. When I’d thanked the attendant as I walked off the plane, that was the first time I’d spoken to anyone in the U.S. in two years.”

  Dan looked surprised. “No one? No one at all?”

  Exasperated, Rook shook his head. “Not my wife. Not Deke. No one. It would have been too dangerous.”

  He glanced briefly at Irina, but she appeared to be involved in stirring her coffee. She was tired. He could read her exhaustion in the slope of her back and neck. She’d changed from the sexy red silk gown to a white shirt and pants that were too big for her. Even so, they didn’t hide the enticing curve of her back or her vulnerable nape.

  Dan lowered his gaze to his notepad. After a second of awkward silence, he took a deep breath. “I believe that’s all the questions I have at this time—for the specialists.”

  Rook dragged his attention away from his wife. The look in Agent Taylor’s eye and the inflection in his voice told him a lot. He wanted to talk about Rook’s employees.

  Rook nodded his understanding. “Brock, Aaron, Rafe. Thanks for your time and input. Agent Taylor and I have a few more things to discuss. You’re dismissed.”

  Once the three of them had exited and the door was closed, Rook turned to Matt. “You don’t have to stay for this. Deke or I can fill you in later.”

  Matt smiled. “Not a chance. I’m here. I want to hear everything.”

  “Great.” He turned back to Dan. “You have more questions?”

  “I understand from Deke—Lieutenant Cunningham—that there’s strong reason to suspect one of your employees of feeding information to Novus.”

  “That’s what he told me. Deke?”

  Deke leaned back in his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. “Dan, you’ve heard the short version.”

  Dan nodded. “Your helicopter was sabotaged. I’d like to hear how. Who could have done it. And who couldn’t have. I’ve viewed the security disks. I’m assuming that whoever did the tampering knew how to avoid being recorded.”

  Deke nodded. “That’s right. As for
the how: Someone drained all the oil and tampered with the oil gauge, so it had to be someone with a little technical knowledge,” Deke said. “I followed my usual startup routine. I’d checked all the fluid levels the night before. I did my walk-around—to make sure there were no leaks. Then I did a visual check of the mechanics. I started the engine and checked all the gauges. But when I tried to take off, the motor seized.” Deke rubbed his eyes. “Draining the oil is a pretty simple matter, if you know where the drain plug is. But doing it in the short time frame they had to work within, without spilling a drop? That takes more patience, skill and attention to detail than most people have.”

  “So which one of your specialists has those traits?”

  Deke shook his head. “All of them.”

  He leaned back in his chair and raked his fingers through his hair again. “I’ve worked with each of these three guys and found them competent and trustworthy. Until my bird was sabotaged, I’d have said I could trust each of them with my life, but obviously I was wrong there. I’ve gone over everything I know about them, and I can give you at least one reason to suspect each one.”

  “At least one? Which ones have more than one?”

  While Dan was speaking, Rook stood and stepped over to where Irina was sitting, near the coffeepot. She’d been getting more and more pale, and he could tell by the way her skin stretched across her cheekbones how exhausted she was. He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down. The scent of gardenias wafted past his nostrils from her hair.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs? There’s no reason for you to sit through this.”

  She stiffened under his touch. “I’m fine,” she hissed.

  “It’s obvious you’re not.”

  “I thought you wanted me to hear everything.” Her voice was still icy.

  “I can brief you tomorrow—or Deke can, if you don’t trust me.”

  “I’m. Fine.”

  Rather than make any more of a scene than they’d already made, Rook gave up and went back to his seat. She wasn’t about to give him a break. Not that he deserved one, but it still hurt.

  He pushed his thoughts back behind the steel wall of his heart, where he kept things he didn’t have time to deal with, or didn’t want to.