All In (8 page)

“I know,” Susannah said, “it’s just that—” Suddenly, she felt a gun on the back of her head, heard the sickening click of it being cocked, and an accented voice said, “Hang up. Now. Before I blow your head off.”

Gun to her head, Susannah gasped and was about to hang up when she heard another click and Amal’s soft voice saying, “Drop the gun. Before I blow
your
head off.”

She heard the gun drop near her feet. Turning around, Susannah found herself staring directly at a man in his mid-fifties, rugged-looking and strong. All at once, recognition appeared in both their eyes.

“Susie?” he asked in wonder.

“Daddy? We’ve found you!” she exclaimed.

It was at that exact moment that Buzz Carter’s house exploded into a million pieces.

8

AJ WAS LISTENING IN
to hear everything that was going on in Johannesburg. She could see vestiges of smoke from a webcam she had hacked in to that was used by a securities firm a couple of streets over. AJ gasped in horror when the house exploded, trying feverishly to find any sign of Chas. She could see that his phone’s GPS was active and near the house. Was it possible, then, that he was okay? She heard Susannah screaming her name and shouting to Amal that AJ was one of the team. Amal, taking the phone from Susannah, got on the line and said, “This is Amal, Mahmoud’s contact. We’ve been hit with some debris but are all right. We will call you back as soon as we find Chas.” She hung up, leaving AJ, horrified and hamstrung, to wait to hear news of Chas’s fate.

‡‡‡

AMAL, SUSANNAH, AND BUZZ
had gotten as close as they could to the burned-out husk of his house, but for the most part, it was a smoldering pile of rubble. Susannah could barely see through her tears, and the sounds of a fire truck approaching warned them it was time to cut and run. Buzz ran across the street, seeking shelter in a neighbor’s toolshed to avoid being tracked by those hunting him; Amal turned to Susannah and said grimly, “We need to get Buzz out of here, and out of the country, as soon as possible. I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Susannah said firmly. “Not without Chas. Do whatever you need to do to keep my father safe. I’m staying right here until I find Chas alive and well.”

“What if he finds you first?” asked a voice from behind her. Out of nowhere Chas appeared, a bit of dirt on his clothes but otherwise unharmed. Susannah jumped into his arms and embraced him fiercely, kissing him and hitting him in equal measure, stopping only to shout, “Don’t
ever
fucking do that to me again!” before continuing to kiss him.

Amal, still carrying Susannah’s phone, took a picture and texted it to AJ with the caption “Back in business
.
” Then she said, “I hate to break this up, but we need to leave the area ASAP.”

“Right,” Chas said. “Sorry about that. I dropped my phone somewhere and wound up in pursuit of a man leaving the house—likely the man who set the bomb. I lost him, but I did manage to get my hands on a little something he left behind.” He held up a crumpled piece of paper. “There’s a few numbers on here, and the initials BS next to one of them. Might be a good lead.”

“Agreed,” Amal said. “Nice work, Chas. Now let’s get Buzz and take off.”

“We found Buzz?” Chas asked.

“He found me,” Susannah said, “and almost shot me, at that. Amal saved the day.”

“Well, I’m not done yet,” she said with a wink. “Follow me.” Guns at the ready, they went to get Buzz and find their way to safety.

‡‡‡

CHAS WAS SWEATING
from the run back after stowing the scooter at the safe house. The crumpled piece of paper he had given to Amal was not from the house, of course, but was the intel he had received from Birdsong. But could it be trusted? He had never known Birdsong’s allegiances, that was true; they had been connected years ago by Pierre Descartes and Bruni. Now both those men were dead, and Chas’s fear of retribution loomed large. He wasn’t going to do anything to implicate himself or Susannah further.

Susannah went to get her father, and Chas and Amal followed closely behind, ready to protect their mark if necessary. As they stood watch, ready to take Buzz to safety, Amal stole a glance at Chas and murmured, “You weren’t even near the house when it exploded, were you?”

“No,” he said, “I saw it all after I dropped the scooter off.”

“Was the intel from your contact here?”

Chas knew Amal could sense more than he wanted her to and replied brusquely, “Yes. And we never had this conversation.”

“Understood,” she said. “I know how to keep my mouth shut. Mahmoud depends on it.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this to Mahmoud, either,” Chas said sternly. Then added, “And thank you for all you’ve done. I couldn’t have done it without your backup. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing. Except to tell Mahmoud that I was helpful to you. What I do, it is all for Mahmoud,” she said, her face softening. For an instant, Chas wondered if there was more to Amal’s wistful tone than gratitude. Then Susannah and Buzz approached, and they took off for the safe house with all due speed.

‡‡‡

THE SECOND AJ GOT
Susannah’s text, she sighed with relief, then went into action mode. First she called Mahmoud, who managed to get reception even though he was in a remote part of the desert. Mahmoud then contacted Amal to coordinate getting Susannah, Chas, and Buzz on a chartered flight back to Tangier. Next, AJ called the Boss, who in turn called the FBI to update Fritz, and together they decided to get Buzz, Susannah, and Chas back to the States the following day. It was a narrow escape, and they were all on high alert. They would have to be especially careful until they got Buzz back to America, where the FBI would offer full protection. Until that time, they were on shaky ground.

AJ took a breath and looked at the screens in front of her. She had made sure to have GPS connected to all their cell phones, and there was a screen monitoring each step taken by every member of the Bod Squad. The screen was a full map of the earth, each member of the Bod Squad a different-colored blinking light. Each section of the map could be expanded if more details were needed. Another screen showed detailed topographical maps of Friouato Grotto (Taza), Johannesburg, and Tangier; a third and fourth screen showed various camera hookups in coordinating locations in real time. It had been an exceptionally scary moment for AJ, and she was dealing with it by drinking wine straight from the bottle and wolfing down chocolate in every form it came in. She figured if her laptop were chocolate, she’d eat that, too. She turned up the jazz, took another swig, and finished a bag of chocolate-covered almonds before bursting into tears. Then she immediately wiped her eyes and got back to work.

‡‡‡

LISA BEE AND JACKSON
had stopped at a hotel in Fes for a few more hours of sleep. Even though they had caught a couple of winks back at Mahmoud’s, Jackson knew Lisa Bee could use a few more. Besides, it had been a long drive over bumpy terrain.

Jackson knew the owner of this hotel—he was another friend Jackson had grown up with. He figured this would be a nice treat for Lisa Bee along the way; it was a beautifully designed getaway with dark wood, inlaid ceramics, and colored hanging fabrics. In addition, he recalled, they served an impressive continental breakfast, which would help them fuel up for the rest of their mission.

His friend Ali met them on the way in with a huge hug and a smile and showed them to their rooms; Ali knew they were only stopping in and were short on time. Even so, he and Jackson were thrilled to see each other and caught up a bit when Lisa Bee went off to sleep. There was a beautiful gathering area in the middle of the hotel, with wood benches and colored poufs, where Ali said he’d leave breakfast. As to why they were stopping through so last-minute and for such a short time, Ali didn’t ask. Jackson figured Ali knew him well enough to know there was a good reason. He didn’t even seem to mind being woken in the middle of the night but said he liked living vicariously through Jackson’s “exciting international life.” As they sat drinking coffee and talking of the past, lit by candles and dim lanterns, Jackson felt at once that he was back home, and how comforting it was to feel that way, if only for a moment.

‡‡‡

JACKSON WOKE LISA BEE
a couple of hours later and asked her to join him for a beautiful breakfast Ali had left for them. He wanted to talk to her before they got back on the road. He knew her feelings weren’t quite what his were—she seemed uncomfortable, taken aback, and a bit awkward. He regretted his decision to say anything about his feelings and decided to make it good over a meal. It was probably time for him to give her an out so she wouldn’t feel like she had to make any kind of choice about him.

Lisa Bee sat a bit apart from him on the wooden bench and poured herself a coffee. She grabbed a piece of fruit and nibbled on it delicately. Jackson looked at her with a half smile. “Really, Bee? That’s what you’re gonna eat? Come on.”

“I’m not hungry. Nervous, I guess, about the mission.”

“Or maybe you’re nervous because I made you uncomfortable?”

She looked up at him with those deep sweet eyes. “Oh, Jackie, I’m sorry. I’m confused, and I feel so awkward, you know? I’m just not sure how to act around you now.”

Jackson sighed and grabbed one of her hands. “Bee, I’m an idiot. Worst timing ever. Sorry. My bad. I’ve been thinking that the best thing for us to do is concentrate on the job ahead and shelve all this till we’re back stateside. How does that sound to you?”

She smiled broadly. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, looking straight at her. “It’s my only weakness. I have terrible timing.”

She laughed, and he felt good that he had loosened her up. “If you think that’s your only weakness, Jackie, you got another think comin’.”

“Why don’t you list my weaknesses over breakfast? Come on, Bee, I’m starving, and we both need to fuel up. Whaddaya say?”

“Okay,” she said, filling up her plate with eggs, couscous, and pastry and settling in to eat. “Your first weakness is that you can’t eat as much as I can.”

He laughed and felt the tension between them disappear. “Aw, Bee, you don’t know what you’re saying. Just wait till the pig roast later.”

“Oh God, really?” she asked with a look of surprise.

“Don’t worry, I was joking.”

“I wish you hadn’t been,” she said, taking another bite of eggs and looking wistful. “My dad used to do that every New Year’s! God, I loved those. What parties we all used to have.”

“Explain.”

She smiled a bit and said, “It was what my family was known for. My dad owns a seafood place, so we were always grilling clams and oysters, or having a crawfish boil on the porch, but once a year we’d have a Cajun-style pig roast. My daddy built us our own backyard roaster out of a chain-link fence and some cinder blocks. Those parties! People would dress up in crazy outfits and bring horns and instruments. We’d start the New Year off with a honky-tonk carnival that’d last the whole day through.”

“Damn, Bee,” Jackson said, his mouth hanging open. “That sounds badass!”

“They were the best,” she said with a sigh. “I haven’t been to one in a while, though. Too long.”

“That’s somethin’ I’d like to see. A pig roast on the bayou!”

“You’ll have to join me sometime,” she said with a wink. “You’d love my family. My brothers are as much of a pain in the ass as you are.”

Jackson chuckled and took a large bite of pita bread. He was relieved that they were back on track. And, after all, tomorrow was another day. He held his coffee high in a toast and said, “Here’s to the pains in the asses of the world! Here’s to us all!”

‡‡‡

BACK IN ALEXANDRIA,
it was five-thirty
P.M.
, and Susannah’s mother was closing up shop for the day. After the almost-wedding and the news of her husband’s survival, Janice went right back to work. After all, it was one of the few things that comforted her. It was good for her, she thought, to keep her mind occupied.

Her biggest secret was not that she knew her husband had been undercover, but that after his death, she had started to work with the FBI. She hadn’t been trained in anything, and she didn’t want to do anything dangerous. But she had connected with her old friend Annabella Fritzheimer, otherwise known as Fritz, and had offered to serve in whatever way she could. After the death of her husband, Janice was inconsolable. She was so angry with the CIA for not protecting him that she refused all contact with his business partners, those who said they worked in “insurance” together. But she wanted to do something good for the world, something that would make his death worthwhile. In Janice’s mind, it was the good guys versus the bad guys.

Fritz, known as Bella to her childhood friends, was a true comfort. Janice had grown up with Bella and believed her to be one of the best. She had offered her store, her home, her life to Bella years ago, and after some time Bella had taken her up on it. It was funny she didn’t know until recently that her daughter had also been working with her childhood pal. But she was awfully glad that Bella had been keeping an eye on Susannah, that was for sure.

Janice used her store as a place to exchange messages between local and international undercover operatives. She seldom knew or understood the messages, only that she received texts from Fritz on a burner phone sent to her each week, detailing what to write and the code name of the recipient. She then inserted the messages into hollow ceramic animal sculptures. The sculptures were sold for twenty dollars each to the person who gave the code name. Most of the people who came in, she realized, were Israelis, likely special forces stationed all over D.C., Baltimore, and Virginia. She had become comfortable with her role as “average citizen helper to the FBI” over the last six years, but to make herself extra comfortable, she had purchased a gun that she kept under the counter, and she routinely went to a local shooting range to practice.

Just then the bell on the door sounded, and a man walked in. He was dark-skinned, tall, beautifully built, and had kind eyes. When he spoke, he had the Israeli accent Janice had come to know.

“Ms. Carter?” he said. “I am Rafael. I believe you are expecting me?”

“No,” Janice replied. “I’m sorry. Should I be?”

“Fritz said to check your phone. She thought you may not have looked.”

Janice felt her heart beat faster and went to get the burner phone she kept near her gun. Checking it, she saw she had one message from Fritz:

Buzz, Susannah, and Chas on the way back. Need to have you brought here to protect you. Rafael is one of ours. Go with him immediately. DO NOT STOP AT HOME. Fritz.

Janice paled but steeled herself with resolve. She grabbed the phone and put the gun in her purse. Then, wordlessly, she followed Rafael outside.