Forged in Honor (1995) (40 page)

Josh never looked at the man or acknowledged his presence. He glanced over the crowd routinely and slowly ambled through the kitchen door.

The other agent was waiting for him and handed him a picture. "We're not the only ones watching you."

"Who are they?" Josh asked, studying the picture of two Latino men in a new BMW.

"We're not sure just yet, but they're pros, that's for sure.

We spotted them when you left the lady's apartment early this morning and walked back to your boat. These two are just one team-they sit in the apartment parking lot and roll when you drive. Three women and one man in another team are watching you at work. They're good. They change their looks by using glasses and wigs. This is no small-time tail operation. It's strictly pro and is costing somebody big bucks.

Could be the mob or-"

"Chinese," Josh said, finishing the sentence.

The agent smirked. "You're way ahead of us. Yeah, it could be the Triad, which means they are looking for Kang too. This is all beginning to stink. Kang must know something, so you're now in big-time danger."

The agent picked up a bag and dumped it on the table.

"Take this and wear it. We heard you know how to use it."

He handed Josh a shoulder holster with a nine-millimeter Beretta.

Josh took off his jacket to put on the holster. "You takin' them down or gonna watch them and hope for bigger fish?"

The agent held the holster straps as Josh ran one arm through. "The brass says watch them. We have two more teams assigned, including some tech boys. The ones tailing you on the job call in to the guys in the BMW, as best we can tell. Our tech guys will be able to monitor all those calls and any the car boys make to their bosses. We don't think they know about us. We were lucky-our surveillance was loose because we knew your schedule. Which reminds me.

Are you going to visit the lady again tonight?"

Josh nodded as he put on his jacket. "Yeah, we're going to talk."

The agent's expression didn't change. "Okay. Just keep an eye out. This is getting big, Hawkins, real big."

Glenn was sitting on the couch when he opened her apartment door and walked in. She didn't get up or avert her eyes from the packet she was examining until Josh sat down beside her and said, "Must be good reading."

She made a sour look. "I've been around you too much.

I'm getting as cynical as you are on this drug war business.

This is a read-ahead packet for the conference tomorrow, and it's all politician double-talk claiming that everything is getting better. Why can't they look at the real issues and do something?"

Josh put his arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"The problem, my dear, is very simple. Nobody is in charge.

All the agencies are doing their own thing since nobody is setting priorities or writing out a plan for all of them to follow. They won't dare let another agency take the lead because it could mean a loss of funds for their organization.

Don't worry about it. Relax and come into my world. It's the only way you'll be able to keep your sanity."

She yielded to his touch and laid her head back against his shoulder. Suddenly she sat up and pulled back his coat. "So that's what poked me. You're now carrying a pistol on the job?"

Josh reached out and pulled her back to his shoulder.

"Naw, it's the last option to make you go to bed with me."

She smiled and settled against him again. "I'm here to be caught, best turtle catcher on the Potomac."

Josh's lips curled back in a grin. "Let's go to bed and discuss really important stuff like traps and bait."

"Whoa, you have to catch me first. What kind of bait are you going to use?"

He pushed aside her robe and ran his hand slowly up her bare leg toward her inner thigh. "I thought I'd coax you into the trap this time."

She shuddered with his touch and closed her eyes, breathing heavily. "It's working ... Ohh ... Don't stop ... Ohhhh yes."

Josh couldn't seem to get close enough as he pressed against her, feeling her warmth and building passion. He felt her every tremor and heard every murmur as they moved faster and harder against each other. He didn't want it to end and strained to hold on to the moment, but he wasn't strong enough.

Chapter 19.

Kelly looked at the writing on the Styrofoam container and grinned. "She got it right this time-`Kelly Special.' God, I love that wench."

Josh passed him the hot sauce and napkins with an accusing stare. "What'd you do last night?"

Kelly eyed him cautiously. "You're settin' me up. You talked to Mary, didn't ya?"

"Yeah, I saw her outside as she was leavin'. She's going to throw your ass out on the street unless you start payin' attention to her. And I'll snap her and the twins up in a heartbeat."

"The guys came over and we went over some things, that's all."

"Mary said they left at one in the morning."

"Hey, I'm a cop. Get off my case. I got her covered, so I been listening. You wanna hear what we got, or don't ya?"

Josh pulled up a chair. "I'm listening."

"The uniforms rousted the Sancho yesterday, as well as every Chink who went into his office building who wore a suit.

We came up with nine businessmen into everything from dry cleaning to restaurants. They must be his colonels or at least his majors. They were all clean, but now we have their prints and they know we're watchin' them. The Sancho got bent with the rousts and called in some heavy hitters. His big-buck lawyers came first, then that Chink businessman association, the Asian-American Group, and finally the fuckin' American Civil Liberties Union boys with their whining song-and dance routine. I guess it was quite a show in the mayor's office."

"And?" Josh asked with a knowing smile.

"Look, smart-ass. So we took some heat from the brass.

They're nothin' but politicians wearin' uniforms. We made the point and that's what's important. The Chinks know we know, so now the line is drawn. We're gonna wait and see who blinks first. It ain't gonna be us."

"You thought about bringing in the Feds yet? If it's Triad, and it sounds like it is, you're in over your head."

Kelly pointed at himself. "I ain't a cowboy. Sure, we been tellin' the Feds what we got so far. But you know them unless they have hard proof, they stay in a look-see mode."

Kelly lowered his eyes. "You're not gonna like this. Some of our undercover boys bought a bag of the new hero and gave it to the DEA for tests." He looked up at Josh as if in pain.

"The DEA says it's from Burma. And they ain't happy about it. They told us it could be the beginning of a whole lotta shit comin' in."

Josh's jaw muscles rippled. Too many things were falling into place. Now he knew why the CIA director had wanted him to attend the conference. Their worst nightmare had come true. The missing heroin from the facilities was on the streets.

Kelly saw the reaction and wrinkled his brow. "We're in a war, Hawk, and we're like the British redcoats, all lined up walking down the road while the players are poppin' us from behind legal eagles and the ACLU. We're gonna have to bend the rules and get the snake's head before this gets out of control."

Josh took a breath and told himself to relax, it wasn't his concern. He got up and patted Kelly's shoulder. "You can do it. I'll watch from the sidelines and cheer you on."

"Talk to Mary for me, Hawk. She listens to you. I tried to explain last night how important this is, but she wouldn't listen to me. Talk to her. I'm asking as a friend. She needs to hear it from somebody else, and she trusts you."

Josh forced a smile. "I'll run over and see her after sculling this afternoon. I promise."

Kelly looked toward the window with a distant stare. "I wish I was like you and could get away from all this. I don't see an ending to this."

Josh walked toward the door. "You'll figure something out to get them. Take care, Shamrock. I'll talk to Mary and see ya tomorrow."

Josh walked out into the drizzling rain and looked down the street toward the BMW parked alongside the curb a block away. He wanted to walk up, pull his pistol, and make the bastards tell him why they were making him a player in a game he didn't want to play. Instead, he mumbled, "Screw you" and headed for his Jeep.

Norfolk, Virginia Stephen awoke and rolled over to look at the alarm clock.

It was 12:15 P. M. He groaned but knew he had needed the rest. They had arrived at Patrick Henry Airport just after 4 A. M. and parked in front of a small hangar across the airfield from the much larger commercial passenger terminal. A nearby motel sent a van for him and he'd checked in, paying in advance in cash. He sat down at the room desk and looked at his road atlas. It was only three hours to Washington, D. C. by car. He picked up the briefcase, took out the money he'd taken from the bodies, and found he had a little over three hundred dollars left. It wasn't enough to get back to Burma, but it would get him to Joshua. With renewed hope he quickly showered, changed into comfortable clothes, and called for a cab to take him to a car rental agency downtown.

Minutes later, he headed for the lobby, saw his cab, and walked out into the circular drive. Handing his suitcase to the cabby, he looked to the north at the dark, rumbling storm clouds and felt a strange shiver run up his spine.

Georgetown Boathouse, Washington, D. C.

As Josh parked his Jeep by the boathouse, Fred stepped out of his small office and said, "You're not thinkin' about goin' out, are you?"

Josh walked over and lifted the scull off the pegs. He balanced the weight on his shoulders. "Fred, I can't let a little rain screw up my schedule."

"Hell, I'm not worried 'bout the rain, but the river's up and runnin' fast. You ain't gonna get a hundred yards upriver against that current. Better come back when she's down."

Josh continued to carry the lightweight craft toward the swollen banks. "I gotta try it, Fred. If it's too much I'll take her downriver to the tidal basin and call you. Can you come get me and the boat in your truck?"

"Sure, but it seems awfully foolish taking the chance of gettin' swamped or worse."

Josh strode back for the oars but stopped long enough to pat the old man's shoulder. "I need this, Fred. I gotta get away for a while, you understand."

The old man begrudgingly nodded. "Yeah, she gets in your blood and it seems you can't live without her. Be careful, Mr.

Hawkins, she's bitchy today."

Fred was wrong. Josh fought the current for three hundred yards upriver before he had to turn about. He was drenched, and his baseball cap was pulled down so far his ears stuck out, but he'd done what he wanted-felt the exhilarating pain of trying to beat her. She'd won like always, but he knew she would at least respect him for his attempt. He soon found out that shooting down the river with the churning current was almost as difficult as going upriver, for he had to avoid the debris and rolling swells that could swamp the scull. He barely had a chance to look toward the shore to see where his tails were. He didn't see them, but knowing they were trying to keep him in sight was a pleasure of its own. Below the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge the river calmed down a little, and he dug in his oars and shot forward like a slender rocket.

Beneath his lightweight nylon jacket he was drenched with sweat, but he kept up the breakneck pace. Just a little more pain, he thought, just a little more.

Mary Kelly parked the old station wagon in the driveway and looked over her shoulder at the her twin seven-year-old boys in the backseat. "You both wipe your feet before going in the house. And hide the clothes I bought you. Your dad will have a fit if he knows what I paid for those jeans and T-shirts you two had to have."

"Mom, everybody wears Panama Jack shirts in the summer. It's cool," Mike said, unable to believe his mother didn't understand "in" clothes.

"You'll think 'cool' if your dad finds out," she snapped, and glanced at her watch. "Move it, and get the stuff inside.

It's four o'clock, time for `Oprah.' "

She got out and waved to the young officer in the cruiser that had pulled in behind her. He waved and got out in a hurry. "Hold the boys up, Mary. I need to check the house first."

"You heard him, guys. Hold up."

"Mom, it's raining," complained Todd.

"Open the garage and wait there. I'll yell when it's okay."

Mary rolled her eyes at the approaching officer and handed the house keys to him. "Skip, whatever you do, don't have twin boys. You have to push on the door when you hear the click."

"Got it," the officer said with a smile. He opened the door with no problem and stepped in with his hand on his revolver. Mary followed a few seconds later and stood in the entryway. He strolled out of the kitchen and shrugged.

"Looks fine. I'll check the upstairs and then I'll get out of here."

Mary sighed, looking at the mess in the living room where the boys had set up a Star Wars base for intergalactic warriors. She walked in to rescue her good couch pillows, then heard a crash. She turned and yelled up the stairs. "Skip? ...

Skip, are you all right?"

Josh had pulled in behind the station wagon and saw the boys standing in the garage. He got out and was about to speak when he heard a bloodcurdling scream from inside the house. He spun and grabbed his holstered pistol from the passenger seat of the Jeep and yelled at the boys as he sprinted toward the house, "Run to the neighbors and call 911!"