Sins of the Titanic (A James Acton Thriller, #13) (20 page)

Yet
Quaid was right. He didn’t want war. Nobody wanted war.

At
least on our side.

“If you
don’t want war, then why wouldn’t you want sanctions? Russia is invading and
threatening its neighbors. They have to be stopped.”

Quaid
gave that smile again. “You need not worry about war with Russia. We have
contingencies in place to prevent it.”

Jones’
eyebrows popped. “Such as?”

“None of
your concern. Let us just say we have zero concerns.”

“Then
why?”

Quaid
looked at one of the screens with a numeral ‘1’ in the corner. “May I?”

The
shadow nodded.

“It is
time to rebalance the world.”

Jones
eye widened. “Excuse me?”

“Throughout
history the threat of war, and war itself, have driven scientific advancement,
bettering mankind. But with modern weaponry, war has the potential to become
too destructive, which was why the Mutually Assured Destruction doctrine worked
so well for so long. Both sides didn’t want war, as they knew they both would be
completely obliterated in a nuclear exchange. However, both sides were forced
to continually advance their weaponry, and their prestige programs like the
space program, to maintain that deterrence balance. But with the collapse of
the Soviet Union progress slowed and a new enemy had to be found.”

“Terrorism.”

“Yes.
We’ve been steering China in the right direction, and they are nearly there,
but Islamic fundamentalism unfortunately filled the void. Without the Soviet
Union and the Warsaw Pact to focus on, the West turned its attention toward
what had been a minor annoyance, and really still is, despite recent events. If
the West truly wanted to crush Islamism, it could, but it doesn’t. It just
wants to keep it contained so it stops killing innocent people. From a
technological standpoint, they aren’t a challenge, which means there’s no
scientific development. Iraq and Afghanistan advanced some technologies, but
not enough, though there have been some interesting medical advances.”

Jones
pinched his nose, stifling a sneeze, the air dry. “So what you’re saying is we
need an enemy that is technologically advanced to compete against.”

Quaid
snapped his fingers. “Exactly! With Russian oil financing their military
development, they have been able to begin modernizing their military, and even
have new weapons development programs that are rivaling our own. But that’s
because we never had the incentive to keep moving forward. The enemy we were
fighting used AK-47’s and IEDs, slept in caves and didn’t have a navy or air
force, so why focus on those technologies. Instead we’ve developed new and
better ways to spy on individuals and entire populations, monitor our own citizens,
and slowly chip away at the freedoms once enjoyed in the West.”

Jones
allowed himself a slight chuckle. “You’re preaching to the choir on that one.”

“I know,
which is one of the reasons you’ve gone so far with us.”

Jones
straightened in his chair, breathing deeply as he squared his shoulders. “And I
think we’ve gone far enough. If you know me at all, you know that I am a man of
principles, and I
cannot
compromise them. No matter how convincing an
argument you may make, I personally believe that a weakened Russia is
absolutely necessary for world peace. Belligerent powers must be put in their
place, otherwise it encourages more belligerence.” He shook his head, looking
at the screens. “I’m sorry, but I cannot continue this relationship, even if it
ultimately costs me the Presidency.”

Quaid
smiled. “I told them you would say that.”

Images
suddenly began to flash on the screens, dozens, hundreds, photographs and video
clips showing his family, his parents, his wife, their children, his nieces and
nephews. Everyone he had ever met related to him, everyone descendant from his
grandfather.

Everyone.

Suddenly
it all stopped, the screens all black, then a flash as a single image filled
them all, spread across the entire wall of panels.

He
gasped at the video.

It was
his granddaughter Kaitlin, on a swing, her mother—his daughter—pushing the
little girl.

All seen
through what appeared to be a sniper scope.

He
suddenly spotted the red dot dancing on her crisp white Hello Kitty t-shirt,
the innocent little girl who cried if she stepped on an ant, who had never hurt
a soul in her life, now at the mercy of some madman.

“You
wouldn’t,” he whispered. But he knew they would. Everything he had heard told
him these people didn’t care about human lives. Or did they? What Quaid had
told him suggested they seemed to care about the advancement of human kind as a
species, but not the individual. Individuals could be sacrificed for the
greater good.

“Please,
Chris, these people are serious. They
will
kill your granddaughter, and
every single member of the Brett Jones line. Their promise to him was that his
entire lineage would be wiped out should their wishes not be fulfilled.”

A lump
formed in Jones’ throat as bile filled his mouth.

“I-I…”

“You
will
cooperate, or they will
all
die.”

“N-no, I
c-can’t. I can’t hand the presidency over to you people. You’re crazy.”

Quaid
stood back and pulled his phone out, speed dialing a number. “Take the shot.”

“No!”
cried Jones, jumping to his feet. “Please, no!”

“Hold
on,” said Quaid, the image on the screen still showing his daughter pushing
little Kaitlin, the two of them laughing and talking. Quaid looked at him. “Do
you have something further to say?”

Jones
nodded, collapsing in his chair.

“I’ll
cooperate.”

JW Marriott Hotel, New Orleans

“Why am I not making this call?”

Dawson
looked at Special Agent in Charge McCarthy as he stormed into the room looking
none too pleased. Dawson held up the paper that had been taped to Saunders’
back.

“Shit,”
muttered McCarthy as he took the paper by the corner. “Now what do we do?”

“I see
two choices.”

“They
are?”

“We sit
tight and hope Mr. Jones is returned safe and sound.”

“I don’t
like that one. And number two?”

“I use
the resources at my disposal to find him.”

McCarthy
dropped into a chair, waving the paper. “And their warning? What makes you so
special that you can ignore it but I can’t?”

Dawson
smiled. “You wouldn’t like what I’d have to do to you if I told you.”

McCarthy’s
jaw dropped in realization. “Ahh, you’re one of those guys. I had a feeling.
White, Green, Brown and Silver? Come on guys, a little less obvious next time.”

Dawson
smiled. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He wiped the smile
off his face. “Now, am I making that call?”

McCarthy
thought for a moment then nodded. “Absolutely, but from this moment on we’re
locked down, understood. All cellphones are turned off and turned in, nobody
talks to anybody. We can’t risk them finding out we’re breaking the one demand
we actually have from the kidnappers.”

The door
opened and Atlas appeared with Miss Clavin, the young woman rushing forward and
into the arms of another. “Kitty!” The two sobbed for a moment as Dawson made a
mental note to make sure caffeine was kept away from her for the duration. He
stepped into the hall, Atlas and Spock guarding either end, no backup on the
way.

Atlas joined
him. “What’s the word?”

Dawson
pulled out his phone. “We found a note that said if we told anyone they’d kill
him.”

“That’s
a good sign. Means they don’t plan to kill him right away unless we don’t
follow instructions.” Atlas nodded at Dawson’s phone as he dialed. “What are
you doing?”

“Not
following their instructions.”

Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve, Oahu, Hawaii

CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane kicked with his legs, slicing through
the water, his breath held, his snorkel mask providing a spectacular view of
the tropical fish in the Hanauma Bay Nature Preserve. Schools of yellowfin
goatfish and blueline snapper surrounded him and Leiko, a half-Hawaiian
half-Japanese lovely he had met a couple of days ago on Queen’s Beach.

It was
paradise.

Hawaii
was probably his favorite state though he’d never admit that to his parents.
His mom would be heartbroken to hear that home wasn’t his favorite place to
visit. It wasn’t that he didn’t like where he had been born and raised, it was
simply that when he wanted to decompress after an assignment, he preferred laid-back
locales where the pace of life was different than the hustle and bustle of
modern day America.

Enter
Hawaii.

The
mainland way of life hadn’t completely taken over here yet, and from the
Hawaiians he had met over the years, he doubted many of them would let it.

It was
the perfect place to fully recover.

And it
was his last day.

He had
been taken down hard by food poisoning a few weeks ago, his strength totally
sapped. It had taken everything he had to suit up and help out Bravo Team when
they had been railroaded by Washington, and after he had rescued them, he had
pretty much collapsed, exhausted.

He
didn’t bother returning to Fiji, instead deciding to hit Hawaii and be
surrounded by English and modern plumbing with safer kitchens.

But he
had milked it long enough, he good to return to work a week ago, but Leiko had
delayed that, her delights demanding his attention.

And
what delights.

He
looked over at her and gave her a thumbs up. Her eyes widened, conveying her
happiness, she reaching out and squeezing his hand. He could feel his lungs
reaching their limits and pointed up. They kicked toward the surface and Kane
gasped for air as he pulled out his mouthpiece, Leiko barely out of breath.

“I don’t
know how you do it,” he said, treading water as he pulled her tightly against
him.

“Practice,
practice, practice.”

Kane
laughed. “I thought that was how you got to Carnegie Hall?”

She
shrugged. “I don’t know about that. But I can tell you where it
will
get
you.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on him that not only had his heart
thumping hard in his chest, it guaranteed he wouldn’t be walking out of the
water any time soon.

He felt
a slight shock on his wrist.

Shit.

His CIA
issue watch appeared to be like any other watch. And it was. Just with a few
custom upgrades, one of which was a discrete messaging system that would give
him a slight tingle to tell him a message was waiting. It allowed him to covertly
get intel without anyone else in the room knowing, the jolt strong enough to
wake him if necessary, and once removed from his wrist, the pulse wouldn’t
activate. And should someone else put it on, unless they knew the sequence to
press to activate it, it would never signal again.

He
didn’t give Leiko any indication something was wrong, but he had to get a
moment of alone time to check the message.

He broke
the kiss.

“Let’s
take this back to the room,” he said, running his hand through her hair, her
golden brown skin the softest he had felt in a long time, this gorgeous local
having all the right curves for his liking.

She
nodded, wrapping her legs around his waist and grinding against him, causing
him to moan. “I’ll race you.” She let go, lifting her knees up then pushing off
his chest with her feet, diving backward and flipping over, swimming hard for
the shore as Kane recovered from the shock, sputtering to clear his pipes from
the sucked in water.

Recovered,
he took after her, his swimming skills excellent, but this lovely girl had
grown up on the water, and there was no beating her.