Dangerous Secrets (50 page)

‶
It′s got to be a lie.
Some stunt Hart Lewiston is foisting on the American public.″

‶
Why?″ Allie asked.

‶
I haven′t a clue, but he
can′t know what he′s brought down on himself by this
announcement.″

***

The camp was buttoned down. Everyone was safe,
asleep and accounted for. Jan, tired from her day of campers and worry, retired
early. Only Allie and Morgan remained awake. They were in the beam gym. Morgan
wore a leotard much like the one Allie had worn earlier in the day. Hers was
just as tight, and where Allie′s was red, hers was white. It had a blue
slash of color that anchored at her shoulders, slicing across her chest to the
left and down her back to the right like a long scarf.

She did a back handspring using both hands,
then a second one with no hands. Coming up, she pirouetted on the beam to face
the other direction. Doing a couple of dance steps, she reached the other end
of the beam, pirouetted again and started a run to dismount.

‶
You′ve been at that for
over an hour. It′s time you took a break,″ Allie said.

Morgan′s leg was back to normal. She
barely felt a twinge of pain. She′d put herself through a long routine,
making sure there were no after-effects from the grazing.

Concentrating wasn′t something she could
do tonight. Morgan had fallen off the beam more times than she′d been on
it. She found it difficult to focus her mind. Could it really be true? Was Hart
Lewiston her real father? She′d watched the news all day, since Jack and
Allie and Jan had come into the bedroom and told her about the press
conference. She didn′t understand it and she wanted to understand. Part
of her kept trying to see the logic, the reason. It was insanity. Morgan
squeezed her eyes shut.

She tried to remember her past. All the nights
she′d lain on the dirty ground in the back of some warehouse or on the
grate of a subway, she′d wanted to forget. Now she tried desperately to
remember what her mother had said about her father.

It was too fuzzy. She couldn′t remember
anything, but she was sure she′d never said anything about him being a
politician or even someone who had plans for public office. Morgan picked at
places in her brain she′d shut down years ago, trying to remember if her
mother had sat forward in interest at a television program or when the news
came on where she might have seen a photo of him. Did she ever stop what she
was doing and stare at the screen with a familiar expression, a knowing glance,
a wondrous expression?

Never.
Morgan
answered her own question. Her mother had given nothing away. Nothing that
would lead Morgan to think that Hart Lewiston and she had anything in common,
much less the sharing of blood.

The gym had mirrors covering one entire wall.
Morgan jumped off the beam, but instead of going to where Allie practiced, she
walked to the mirrors, looking, staring, observing every detail of her face.
She got close to the glass, nose to nose. She tried to pull an image of Hart
Lewiston into view, compare it with her own. She could see nothing of herself
that was him. Her cheeks were high and highly colored. She blamed it on the
beam routine, but she knew it wasn′t only the exercise. Her hair was dark
brown, while his was blond. Her eyes were almond-shaped, while his were more round.
One by one she compared the mental images of the two of them. Her assessment
ended without giving her a single indicator that would lead her to conclude
that she and presidential candidate, Senator Hart Lewiston, were connected in
any way. Yet he obviously thought so.

Why? she wondered. He had nothing to gain and
plenty to lose. Why would he do this? Why would he call a press conference to
acknowledge her? She was thirty-one years old. She didn′t need a father
at this late date. Someone else must have found out. That could be the only
reason. If he′d remained quiet all these years then the decision to go
public five months before the election had to have a catalyst somewhere else.

‶
Morgan, my muscles are
absolutely screaming,″ Allie said.

Morgan suddenly remembered she wasn′t
alone in the gym. Allie was behind her. She′d been running routines on
the beam across from hers. When Morgan turned, she was breathing hard and
resting her head on her arms, which were on the beam.

Grabbing her towel and wiping her face, Morgan
went to the back of the gym and pulled two bottles of water from the
refrigerator. She and Allie sat down on the floor. She′d transferred to
the floor, crossing her long legs Indian style. Morgan joined her, lifting her
water bottle and drinking. The water refreshed her.

‶
Did you get it out of your
system?′′ Allie asked after taking a drink from her own bottle, she
drank.

‶
I don′t know.″
Morgan used the towel to dry her forehead.
‶
I′m still trying to
understand what is going on.″

‶
A father who′s a
candidate for president and most likely the winner of the next election and a
grandfather who sits on the Supreme Court. Sounds like a power play I′d
be willing to join.″

‶
Would you really?″ Morgan
whispered. She asked it of herself, not Allie.
‶
I used to imagine my real
parents. Of course, I knew my mother, but not my father. He died—″ She
stopped.
‶
He
wasn′t there so I could remember. After my mother died and I was on the
streets I used to imagine them alive and sitting in a wonderful houses, filled
with books, him traveling the world as some big-shot diplomat. Everywhere he
went he′d look for me. Little did I know most of it was true.″ She
paused and checked Allie′s reaction to a story about herself. She
didn′t often tell people her thoughts and feelings.
‶
Not
the part where he was looking for me. He didn′t even know I existed, but
he
was
a big-shot diplomat and he did
travel the world.″

Morgan sat silent for a long moment.
‶
I
wonder what happens when he really finds me?″

She meant if he finds her. And if she′s
alive. He should have waited a few days, even hours before making his
announcement. It might not have been necessary. She and Jack still had to get
to FBI headquarters. Jack hadn′t mentioned anything in the last day or
two about their trip, but she knew somehow there was trouble ahead of them, and
this time it wouldn′t be as easy to get away as stealing a helicopter and
flying into the hills.

Chapter 13

Benjamin Franklin′s exploits with the
kite and a key is a story every school child knows. Jack thanked him as he
crossed Main Street and walked into the red brick building housing the Clay
County Public Library. He liked the place. It smelled of lemon oil and
knowledge, but also had what he sought— computer access to the Internet. Jack
chose a seat along the side, careful to place himself where he wouldn′t
be seen by people entering or leaving and where he could research the
information he needed.

The computer could pull information from
thousands of miles away to this small library, a place where the entire population
of the town was in the low three digits.

It had taken him some time to convince Morgan
to stay at the camp where he knew she was being protected while he drove into
town with Jan. Agent Burton had accompanied them and Jack left the two to
return without him. Jack knew Jan couldn′t be in better hands. He
afforded himself a smile as he thought of them. Then his demeanor changed to
all business as he concentrated on the screen.

He found the Korean newspapers with ease. The
ring Jan had kept in the safety deposit box of the town′s only bank was
in the breast pocket of Jack′s jacket, zipped closed so he wouldn′t
lose it. He′d recognized the crest on it immediately. The president of
Korea, Morgan had said. He hadn′t really believed her when she said it,
but he did now. But more than the ring was the paper it had been wrapped in—a
torn newspaper. The story in it tripped one of Jack′s memory cells. He
recognized something about it.

Accessing archived files, he searched under the
name of President Ji-Moon Chang. Jack had to go back thirteen years to find the
original paper. He read through it quickly, then sent several pages to the
printer. He had it, the real reason someone wanted Morgan dead. It was time to
get her and get out.

Jack logged out of the Korean area, returning
to the library′s home page. Then he went into the settings and changed
the properties to remove any reference he′d made to the areas he′d
visited. Spending another ten minutes, he went to nine sites that were of no
interest to him before leaving. If anyone came after him, they wouldn′t
find the history of his visits to the Korean papers, but to investments in
mutual funds, chocolate companies, graphics design and books on fixing a
dishwasher.

Moving to the copy machine, he made copies of
the newspaper and the other papers Jan had concealed. Then, leaving the
library, he returned to the camp. Jack didn′t go straight to
Morgan′s room, but stopped at the camp store. It was only open several
hours a day. The campers were in practice sessions and the store was deserted.
Hanging on the walls were T-shirts with the camp logo, faces of famous
gymnasts, the insignia of the Olympic Games. There were also hats, socks,
headbands and wrists bands, leotards, jackets, every form of paraphernalia a
gymnast would need.

Jack bought two padded envelopes and left.
Sitting down at a deserted table outside the cafeteria, he addressed both of
the envelopes to the same person—Forrest Washington. The first had his name and
address only, while the second had name and address and a code that meant no
one would open that envelope except Forrest Washington himself.

Jack packaged them up, put the ring and papers
inside and pulled the sealing strip free, closing the contents of one inside
the other. Stamp machines were near the store for people who wanted to send
letters and postcards home to their families. He inserted coins, taking more
than he thought was the required amount of postage, and affixed it to the top
envelope.

The mail truck sat in front of the office when
he got there. The uniformed mailman slung a closed canvas bag into the truck as
Jack approached.

‶
Can I get this in today′s
mail?′′ Jack asked with a friendly smile.

‶
Sure can,″ the man said.
He took the envelope and eyed the stamps. Then he dropped it in a plastic container
that was nearly full.

‶
You′ve got a full load
there,″ Jack said.
‶
Hope you don′t have too many more stops to
make.″

He smiled.
‶
Always come here last. Lots of
packages from the mail order business.″

Obviously Jan had a website that sold products through
the Internet.

‶
There used to be plenty of mail
from the homesick kids. Now they send e-mail.″

Jack nodded.
‶
Progress,″ he offered as
a noncommittal explanation.

‶
You have a good day.″ The
postal driver climbed into his seat and pulled away.

If anything happened to the package now,
Washington would know who had done it and why. Jack watched until the white
truck was out of view before heading for Morgan′s room. Allie was on the
phone when he got there. From the one-sided conversation he heard, she must
have been talking to her agent.

‶
Another week at the
most,″ she was saying.
‶
Jan really needs my help.″ Her long hair swung
about her shoulders as if a camera was photographing its swing for some shampoo
commercial.

‶
Where′s Morgan?″ he
asked.

Allie pointed toward the balcony.
‶
Out
there,″ she mouthed, putting a hand over the phone′s mouthpiece.

He went in the direction Allie pointed.
Jack′s heart beat in anticipation. Each time he thought of Morgan, his
blood pressure increased. He knew she hated the confinement of this room, but
the consequences outside it were worse. Jan had life-size photos of the Olympic
winning team on the walls of the office and in several different gyms. Most of
the campers might be too young to remember the Seoul Olympics and not recognize
Morgan right away, but it only took one to put her features to the face on the
poster, especially if Morgan showed anything like the skills she performed
twelve years ago.

Jack stepped onto the balcony and stopped the
moment he saw the gun pointed at his chest

***

‶
What a pleasant surprise, Mr.
Temple.″ An oriental man spoke without an accent. He had his arm around
Morgan′s neck. Her chin was forced upward so she couldn′t move her
head. A strip of duct tape covered her mouth and her hands were behind her
back, presumably wrapped in the same unforgiving substance.
‶
It
is a pleasure to meet you again.″

‶
Sorry I can′t return the
sentiment, but we have never been friends.″

‶
That is because you insist upon
having morals.″

‶
And you work for the highest bidder.
Who is it this time?″ Jack refused to supply him with any names although
he had plenty that came to mind. Since he′d read the paper Morgan had
flown home with twelve years ago and seen the ring, he knew the factions in
Korea vying for this information were on both sides of the political arena. It
could be any of several people.

‶
No names, Mr. Temple. I must
respect my clientele.″ He spoke like a lawyer defending the rights of a
client. His smile showed even, white teeth that could double for a toothpaste
ad. But regardless of the smile, his clients were thugs. They might dress in
fine clothes and have impeccable manners, but they represented the ruthless in
society.

Richard Chung had been born in Korea to a
Korean mother and English father. Although educated in England, he scorned his
father′s heritage. Returning to Korea, he took his mother′s name
and joined the army. He went into intelligence and eventually found himself
part of a network that denied its own existence.

‶
Let her go,
Chung.′′ Jack glanced at Morgan. Her face was pale and she looked
scared and helpless.

‶
I can′t let her go, Jack.
I came all this way to find her. Discovering you makes it doubly
rewarding.″

Jack wanted to smash the oily smile on Richard
Chung′s face, but he was holding Morgan. Allie was still on the phone in
the next room, unaware that death lay only a few steps away. If she hung up and
joined them, Chung would have no reason to keep her alive. And Jan′s
concern about her school and the campers who were here would be done no service
by having someone killed on the site. The first thing he needed to do was get
them off this balcony and away from the camp.

‶
Chung, these people have
nothing to do with what you think Morgan or I know. Why don′t we go
somewhere and talk?″

‶
I was thinking that.″

Jack took a step forward. Chung raised the gun
and he stopped. He could hear Allie continuing her conversation, but she was
out of his range of vision.

‶
Take off the jacket,″
Chung ordered in a low voice. Jack knew he wouldn′t get to keep the gun
concealed under the lightweight jacket. Chung hadn′t survived this long
by making mistakes. He raised his hands.
‶
Slowly,″ Chung cautioned,
raising his arm a bit and letting Jack see Morgan wince in pain.
‶
Any
suspicious move on your part and I′ll drop her where she stands.″
Jack and Chung had tangled before and he didn′t doubt for a minute the
truth of the man′s words.

Jack pushed the left sleeve down his arm and
pulled it free. The holster under his arm showed the gun he carried.
Chung′s eyes went to the holster and Jack pushed the tiny button to
silence the walkie-talkie in his pocket. The two FBI agents would receive a
signal and know there was a problem in progress.

Jack slipped the jacket totally off and lowered
it to the floor so the pocketed communication device did not thud against the
treated wood.

‶
The gun now,″ Chung said.
‶
Two
fingers, no more. Use your left hand.″

Jack released the snap closure with one finger
and lifted the heavy revolver out of its holster using only his thumb and
forefinger.

‶
On the table.″ Chung
waved his own gun at the large umbrella-covered patio table that sat near the
corner of the balcony. Jack laid the gun on it.
‶
Back away,″ he said. Jack
did.
‶
Turn
around.″

Chung had been known to shoot people in the
back. He wasn′t concerned about the campers, but Jack didn′t think
he wanted to call attention to himself by firing a gun in these surroundings.
He was a man who liked to escape unnoticed, undetected, alone, without a clue
left behind. Allie was in the room only steps away. He had to know she was
there. Jack could hear her on the phone. He surely could too. Her call seemed
to be ending. In seconds she′d hang up and step through the open door.

‶
I do not kid you, Mr.
Temple,″ Chung said in a voice so menacing Jack knew he meant business.
‶
Turn
around.″ Jack had to do something quickly. He hoped the two FBI agents
were closing in, but he couldn′t wait for them to arrive.

‶
If you think I have a backup
you′re wrong.″ Usually Jack would have a second gun, a backup
revolver, planted somewhere else on his person. He didn′t keep it in the
same place all the time, but when he embarked on this journey he didn′t
know he′d need one. When Sam had brought him the SUV in Ohio, he
hadn′t requested a backup revolver. Sam probably assumed he already had
one. But there was something Sam had given him and he was going to have to use
it now.

Morgan was in the way. Jack wished she
wasn′t, but the way Chung held her Jack had no clear way to get to him
without going through her. Slowly he began to turn. Chung had to expect him to
do something, try something. The two of them had encountered each other before
and always on opposite sides of the crisis. Score-wise, Jack held the upper
hand. Chung would want to even the boards.

A quarter way through the turn Jack reversed
direction, dropping to the floor, rolling over and coming around to face Chung
with a gun in his hand. He fired the pulse gun at his enemy. The blast issued
from the gun with a strong kick, and hit Chung in the right shoulder, knocking
him backward. He released Morgan and she fell to her knees. Burton was on him
in an instant, handcuffing the inert body. Jack rushed to Morgan.

The main thrust knocked Chung cold while the
reverberation ricocheted into Morgan. She was groggy and incoherent as Jack
lifted her.

‶
What. . . was. . .that?″
she asked as her eyes rolled back in her head. Jack carried her into the
bedroom and laid her on the bed.

‶
What happened?″ Allie
cried. She was heading toward the door when Jack stepped across the threshold.

‶
She′ll be fine,″ he
answered.
‶
She
just needs a little sleep.″

‶
You know I told her we should
have gone to bed early last night, but would she? Nooo.″ Allie
exaggerated the word as she continued, heedless of the danger they had all been
in moments ago.

Jack laid her down, his heart thumping so
loudly in his chest he was surprised Allie didn′t comment on it. He
smoothed Morgan′s hair away from her face. She looked so defenseless. Her
face was still pale and her breath shallow. Jack needed to wake her up.

‶
Get me some ammonia,″ he
nearly ordered Allie. She didn′t question his motives, but ran into the
hall and came back with a first-aid kit. She remembered Jan kept them
everywhere for accidents and emergencies. Jack found the vial. It was encased
in a knitted fabric to prevent cuts. He broke it and waved it under Morgan′s
nose.

‶
What′s wrong with
her?″ Allie asked again. This time there was concern in her voice.

Jack had never been so scared in his life.
Chung had no idea how much power he held over Jack with his arm around
Morgan′s neck. Jack would have done anything Chung asked. When he stepped
onto the balcony and found Chung holding Morgan hostage, Jack was more
concerned about her safety than the gun that was pointed at him.