Redeem My Heart (18 page)

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Ryland should have been grateful for the time he’d spent in Minnesota during previous visits. He’d cultivated quite a number of contacts needed for times just like this and it had worked to his advantage. That said, being stuck on a jump seat in the back of a cargo plane when the temperature was ranging around the freezing mark wasn’t his idea of flying first class. At least he’d been brought a change of clothes that prepared him for the task at hand, along with an array of items that he’d requested upon his arrival at the airport. Unfortunately, he’d tapped out his resource by pushing for items normally outside the comfort zone of the third party in question—weapons were easy, communications electronics without a trail, and encryption capability meant someone needed to make some serious choices in exchange for a large sum of money. In his experience, loyalty was straightforward when the promise of an easier life wasn’t in play. He would have to seek out other means of assistance should another moment arise such as this. A man without loyalty couldn’t be trusted not to double down and sell out his own customer.

“No need for the escort, darling,” Ryland said to the attractive hostess. He gave her a charming smile behind the goatee he’d attached less than an hour ago. “My companion is waiting for me.”

Ryland smoothed out his tie as he made his way across the elegant establishment, maneuvering through the flawlessly set tables. A lot of D.C. movers and shakers used this specific eatery to hold their more private business meetings. He nodded confidently to a number of people seated, not worried that anyone would recognize him with his recent change of appearance. The platinum blond hair with matching goatee, black-rimmed glasses, and blue suit juxtaposed to his natural appearance and his affinity to black suits disguised him well.

“Agent Jernigan, such a pleasure to see you again.” Ryland pulled out a chair opposite the older man, who appeared slightly uncomfortable at the unwelcome intrusion and the statement of his true identity in such a public forum. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”

“I think you have the wrong—”

Ryland held up a hand and dictated to the pretty waitress his order that he’d like some Jamaican Blue Mountain Single Estate coffee in a French press before returning to the matter at hand. Jernigan had aged quite significantly over the years. Life may have been a bit of a grind for him if the grey peppered throughout his hair was any indication. The sharpness in his blue eyes was still present though, providing evidence of his undamaged intellect.

“Let me explain to you how this meeting is going to unfold,” Ryland said with a small smile, removing the black cloth napkin that had been positioned on the plate in front of him. He shook it out and covered his lap, ensuring his suit jacket shifted just enough to show his weapon. “We’re going to enjoy our coffee—I do have a liking for fresh ground medium roast Blue Mountain coffee—and then depart as if nothing is wrong. We’ll then drive to your residence outside of the city for the privacy we’ll need to discuss some pertinent matters at hand.”

“I don’t know who you think you—”

“I know exactly who I am, as do you, Special Agent,” Ryland interrupted curtly, although unsure if the man in front of him was really that special considering the things he’d undertaken over his long career. It was time to express the seriousness of the situation. “Should you not follow my instructions to the letter, I would find it rather disappointing. You see, I currently have one of your previous experimental subjects positioned on the second floor in the building across the street with a sight trained on your medulla oblongata. I assure you that Mr. Moza is quite good at his job, but then you should know that from personal experience.”

“Would you like some fresh cream or sugar with your coffee, sir?” the waitress asked in a rather sensual tone, not noticing that Jernigan appeared to be somewhat of a frozen statue at that very moment.

Ryland had taken the option to bluff—granted, a high stakes gamble at that—by stating Moza was in on this little charade. Should Jernigan have real-time information on E.D.A. and its operational assets, or even possibly be the supervisory agent in charge, he could very well have been aware of Moza’s whereabouts and if he was assigned a contract that had him out of position. Ryland had made the right wager according to the flash of alarm that ran across Jernigan’s face.

“No, thank you,” Ryland replied with a polite smile as he calculated three moves ahead. All was going according to plan. “We do have a business meeting to attend to presently, so would you please bring us the check once we’ve had a moment to enjoy our coffee?”

Confusion marred the young girl’s face at the fact that they hadn’t even had an opportunity to order any food, but she hurried along to do as he asked. Jernigan was scanning the restaurant, most likely looking for options that could help him out of this scenario. Ryland quickly eliminated that notion as he pressed the coffee and poured himself an aromatic cup.

“You’ll pull a fifty dollar bill out from your wallet,” Ryland instructed after having savored the splendid coffee the waitress had procured for them. He so did enjoy the finer things in life. “You’ll lay it down on the check that she is about to place on the table. Additionally, you will remove your cell phone which you have in your inside right coat pocket and then gently slide it over to me. We’ll rise together and then exit the restaurant to a vehicle that is waiting at the curb for our immediate departure. Should I in any way suspect that you’re not fully cooperating, my face is the last you’ll see before you bleed out in the gutter experiencing a very painful death. Not only will you die a needlessly painful death, you’ll also do so understanding that my next visit will be with your daughter at Radcliffe. Dorm life on the quad in Cambridge can be so tedious. Now, do you have any questions?”

Ryland was impressed with the timetable he’d managed to keep them on and they were driving up to Jernigan’s residence within forty minutes of their initial meeting. Mrs. Jernigan was currently visiting her new granddaughter in Idaho by their oldest son and there wasn’t a staff of employees to worry about in their modest Victorian style home. He’d acquired Jernigan’s weapon the moment they were on foot inside the restaurant, but then proceeded to remain silent until they reached their destination. By that time, the driver who Ryland had employed for this sortie, who had managed to remain very discreet in exchange for a relatively small sum of money, pulled in front of Jernigan’s residence. The man himself was perspiring rather heavily.

“After you,” Ryland said with a sweep of his hand, taking time to survey the grounds. All appeared to be a quiet well-to-do residential addition, but initial appearances could be deceiving. The acre of land would be coated with snow before too long, which would have significantly helped Ryland in determining if anyone had been on the property in the past several hours. That didn’t help him now. The driver proceeded to pull around back and would wait there until further notice. “No need to put in your code. It’s already been deactivated. Keep your hands inside your coat pockets.”

“I see even retirement hasn’t diminished your skill set,” Jernigan said, his first time speaking since they’d left the restaurant. He was no doubt feeling more confident being on his own ground, but that would change rather quickly once they were inside. “The fair hair doesn’t suit you, Ryland.”

Jernigan turned the key in the front door at Ryland’s direction and didn’t seem to show any surprise when the beeping of the alarm system never happened. Ryland had used his time wisely and already had the layout of the house memorized. The ground floor consisted of five rooms—the formal living room, the family room where everyone gathered, the kitchen with an attached dining area, a bathroom, and a laundry/mud room. The upstairs contained four bedrooms and more bathrooms, while the basement was currently used for storage and a lovely workshop. Ryland didn’t want Jernigan getting too comfortable, so he chose the formal living room for the upcoming discussion. Most people didn’t use their formal living rooms for much other than to entertain guests, making it an area within their own home where they were least at ease.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Ryland instructed, pointing to a chair he’d pulled to the center of the room. He then proceeded to take off the wig and facial hair of his disguise. He ran a hand through his own sweat-dampened dark hair, waiting for Jernigan to take a seat on the floral printed fabric of one of his wife’s favorite chairs. He set down the discarded items and then took a seat himself off to the side, far enough away that Jernigan wouldn’t try anything that would make this meeting end abruptly and quite tragically for him. He rested the weapon he’d taken from the agent on the arm of the chair he now occupied, not seeing why he should expend his own ammunition when the government had already supplied some at their own expense. He silently attached the YHM M2 Cobra suppressor that he’d taken off Jernigan with his Glock 20 Gen4 10mm. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and relaxed, breathing deeply as he enjoyed the rush that accompanied this little adventure into his past. He’d missed it. “Shall we begin?”

Chapter Fifteen

F
allon had spent the majority of her available time on the airplane combing through the files of the E.D.A. program related personnel who Ryland had named. She had no doubt that he had chosen Special Agent Jernigan as the primary source to extract information from, but he wasn’t their overall intended target. To put things simply, his family life didn’t fit the profile, but she’d passed on her assessment to Crest. He had been working on digging deeper into the backgrounds of those in connection with Travis Bowers’ initial deployment as an agency asset.

“Why would Ryland not have gone to Bethesda instead?” Taryn inquired, pulling the BMW 740i rental car to a stop alongside where Crest, Jax, and Townes were waiting for them a quarter of a mile outside of Jernigan’s upscale housing addition. “Grahn is still alive, although not for long if his chart is anything to go by. I suspect he has little time left to answer anyone’s questions.”

Fallon reached over the backseat and grabbed the long dress coat that Ethan had provided her upon their arrival at the airport terminal. He’d followed them most of the way to their destination but had veered off around a mile back. She figured Kevin and maybe even Lach, a former member of CSA who Crest kept on retainer, had taken up watch at the backside of the addition.

“Grahn isn’t conscious and is under the influence of massive amounts of morphine, so he’d be of no help to Ryland.” Fallon opened the passenger door and stepped out. She then slipped her arms into the wool coat, grateful for the warmth. “Anything on the background checks?”

“I should have something for you soon,” Taryn replied, stepping away from the group with her cell phone in hand. She looked Fallon up and down in scrutiny and then lifted one side of her mouth in a half smile of respect. It was better than nothing. “Good luck.”

“No, you aren’t trained for a tactical breach,” Crest countered, apparently understanding Taryn’s cryptic comment. Fallon was already shaking her head and holding up a hand for him to stop the upcoming argument. “Fallon, you’re not going in there. I’ve placed a call to Schultzy and he’s rounding up an HRT team. Ryland technically violated his agreement with the U.S. government by abducting a federal agent.”

“One, Special Agent Jernigan fully cooperated with a gentlemen who looked nothing like Ryland according to the video surveillance from the restaurant you obtained. Two, there is no violation of said agreement unless a life is taken as a direct result of Ryland’s actions. None of these conditions implicate that Ryland has violated the agreement to my knowledge.” Fallon took the earpiece that Jax held out to her, relatively sure that Crest wouldn’t allow her to get much farther without one. She understood, but this still needed to be done her way. “We’re here on my authority as an FBI Special Agent and I’m taking operational lead on this op. I’ll leave the tactics of the breach to your discretion.”

Crest regarded her intently and Fallon never wavered her stare. Had she done so, she had no doubt he would have taken the reins out of her hands. She still steeled herself for his refusal to allow her to enter the premises due to Schultz Jessalyn’s impending arrival. The Special Assistant to the National Security Advisor wasn’t a man who people told no to. She needed to be quick and draw Ryland out before Jessalyn arrived.