The Escape (17 page)

“That’s pretty much the gist of it. Bunch of guys with guns got the jump on me using a damsel-in-distress act that I fell for. They took me to a place, tied me up, asked me a bunch of questions, none of which I answered, and then they were going to kill me.”

“Then why aren’t you dead?”

“I had a guardian angel on site. He did enough to allow me to get my own way out.”

“And who was this angel?” asked Kirk.

“I hope to find out one day so I can thank the person.”

He turned to Knox and his voice dropped even lower. “And you can guarantee to me that you don’t know who any of these folks are, or where they might have come from?”

Knox said, “If you’re asking me whether it’s any of my people, I can assure you that it’s not. We may deceive, we may slice and dice the truth, we may conceal. But we don’t do crap like this. We do have oversight committees, Puller. And if we tried any of this and it came out, well, everybody could pretty much kiss their asses, pensions, and freedom goodbye. And I’m not sure there’s ever a compelling enough reason to do that. We have enough true enemies without turning on ourselves.”

He studied her closely for a long moment and then looked away.

Kirk looked at Knox. “Tell me about this shootout with an Army captain. What was her name?”

Puller answered. “Lenora Macri. And she must’ve been pretty desperate to take a shot at you, Knox. Do you think she saw you coming in?”

“I knocked and rang the doorbell before I picked the lock. I wasn’t trying to do it on the sly.”

“I know you did. I was watching. So for Shireen’s edification, tell us again how it went down.”

“Step by step,” added Kirk.

Knox sighed and then gathered her thoughts. “I closed the door behind me and called out her name. There was no answer. I called out again and identified myself, full title and everything. The next thing I know she came around the corner from the living room at me. Her gun was out and pointed at me. My cred pack was in my hand and held out for her to see but I knew it didn’t matter. The look on her face told me all I needed to know. I had maybe a second. She was going to shoot me.”

“Keep going,” encouraged Puller when Knox paused.

“I dropped my creds, grabbed the chair, and flung it at her as I went down to the floor. She fired. I felt the round pass over me and hit the wall behind me. The chair had struck her as she fired and threw off her aim. I hit the floor, kicked away, aimed, and fired upward, into her chest. She dropped where she stood. She hit the floor and never moved after that.”

“That all coincides with what I heard downstairs,” said Puller, looking at Kirk.

“Well, it also happens to be the truth,” replied Knox resolutely.

“But attempting to shoot you in cold blood like that,” said Kirk. “It’s an extreme response. How could she know what you were there for? It could just be routine questioning. If she killed you she’s looking at the death penalty. And how was she planning to get away?”

“She had an alias. Same name she used to set up the account in the Caymans, but we traced it back to her. Under that alias she had purchased a series of one-way tickets with the final stop in Saint Petersburg.”

“No extradition treaty between Russia and the U.S.,” said Kirk.

“Right. And I doubt Russia was her final destination. She was just going there to disappear. After that, it’s anyone’s bet. She certainly would have had the financial resources to do it.”

“What date was the plane ticket for?” asked Puller.

“Today. She was supposed to be on duty, but called in sick. She was clearly never going back. That’s why I went there.”

Puller eyed Knox steadily and she returned the gaze. Kirk noticed this staredown and looked back and forth between them, like she was viewing a tennis match.

“I know what you’re probably going to say,” said Knox at last.

“Really?” replied Puller. “So why don’t you tell me what I was going to say.”

“That we’re a team and I should have told you all of this. And you’d be right. And maybe if you hadn’t left me in that graveyard, I would have told you. But you did leave me and I had no idea where you were. And I had to get this done.”

Puller studied her for a while more but seemed satisfied by this explanation. He said, “I’m surprised with all the evidence you had against her that you didn’t send in a SWAT team. The Army would have.”

“That may be how the Army does things, but not us. What we really wanted was for her to cooperate with us and lead us back to whoever she was working with. In the grand scheme of things she was small potatoes. We wanted the others. That’s why I went in solo, to talk to her, to make her see reason.”

“And you almost got blown away for your troubles.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t see that coming. There was nothing in her profile that would have led us to believe that she would have reacted with such violence.”

“Well, profiles can be misleading,” commented Kirk.

“And now we’ve lost her as a potential witness and information source. And it’s really all on me,” Knox added glumly.

Puller said, “So she saw you in her home, figured out who you were from you calling out. She knew the game was up since she was probably upstairs packing for her trip to Russia, and she panicked.”

“Well, I’m just glad her aim was off.”

“Because of the chair you threw.”

“I’m still lucky, Puller.”

“Like the hip.”

“Like the hip,” she agreed as Kirk looked at her quizzically. Knox saw this and said, “Long story.” She sipped her coffee and looked thoughtful.

“What?” Puller asked, seeing an ironic look in her eyes.

“I was just wondering when my luck is going to finally run out.”

“Don’t we all,” replied Puller.

“Well, unfortunately for you two, it seems the answer will be sooner rather than later,” noted Kirk.

C
AN YOU GIVE
me a lift to my hotel, Puller?” asked Kirk as they were leaving the diner.

She had a small roller bag with her.

Knox looked at Puller. “I’m going to check in and then I’ll give you a call. I’m sure my superiors will have a lot of questions for me after the incident with Macri. And there’s always paperwork to fill out. Doesn’t seem like all that much, though, for taking someone’s life,” she added, looking depressed.

Puller said, “You took her life because she was trying to take yours.”

He watched as Knox walked off to her car.

Kirk said, “Do you trust her? I mean do you
really
trust her?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I don’t. That’s why I held a few things back.”

Puller shot her a glance and said, “My car’s over there.”

They walked to his sedan and climbed in. Puller said, “Okay, what do you have?”

“Two facts, one from Todd Landry and one from Doug Fletcher, the prosecuting attorney. Which do you want first?”

“Prosecuting attorney.”

“In addition to the computer evidence there were two witnesses who testified against your brother at his court-martial.”

“Witnesses? Who were they?”

“People he worked with at STRATCOM.”

“What did they say?”

“One testified that he saw your brother meeting in a car with a man who was later identified as being an agent for the Iranian government.”

“That’s not possible.”

“And the other witness testified that she saw Robert Puller burn something onto a DVD from a secure area at STRATCOM’s satellite facility in Kansas and try to take it with him.”

“And why did the prosecuting attorney point these things out to you? They sound pretty damning and certainly wouldn’t help Bobby.”

“At the court-martial they
were
severely damaging. No, Fletcher pointed them out because of something in both witnesses’ written statements.”

“What was it?” asked Puller, his gaze steady on Kirk.

“What they said, what they
both
said in those statements.” She cleared her throat and recited, “‘It was clear to me at the time that Robert Puller was acting very mysteriously.’”

Puller kept staring at her. “They
both
said that?”

“To the word. What do you think the odds are of that happening naturally?”

“Slim and none. What did the prosecuting attorney do with that?”

“The statements were made available to defense counsel, of course, under the discovery rules for court-martials. But it’s not the job of the prosecutor to do his adversary’s job. So he didn’t do anything about it. But two years later it obviously had been sticking in his craw.”

“And Landry did nothing with it?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t at the court-martial and the prosecuting attorney didn’t elaborate on that point. And who knows if anything would have come of it. The other evidence they had was pretty conclusive. Similarities in witness statements probably wouldn’t have carried the day.”

“So did Fletcher think the witnesses were lying? That they were told to say that?”

“He wouldn’t go that far, and neither would I if I were in his shoes and someone asked me. If they were lying it was a little sloppy of them to say the exact same thing. Whoever’s behind this could be a micromanager, but definitely not a lawyer. People do compare witness statements just for that reason.” She paused. “And reading between the lines, Puller, I think that’s why an Article 106 spying case became an Article 106a espionage case. I think defense and prosecutor came to an agreement on that because they both thought something strange was going on. If your brother was put to death, that could never be rectified. If he were alive, albeit in prison, then maybe one day another explanation would come to light. At least that’s what I think happened.”

“You said ‘whoever’s behind this’? So you believe my brother was set up?”

“Let me tell you what the defense counsel told me. And let me warn you that it might not be easy for you to hear. And it’s the main reason I flew out here. I wanted to tell you this face-to-face.”

Puller stiffened slightly. “Okay.”

“Near the end of the court-martial, Landry wanted your brother to testify on his own behalf. The trial was not going well and Landry thought Robert would be a good witness. He was incredibly intelligent, patriotic, and articulate. Landry thought he would present well to the panel.”

“Did he testify?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“He refused.”

“Why? What would he have to lose if things were going against him anyway?”

“He let something slip to Landry, and the ‘let slip’ part is defense counsel’s observation, not mine.”

“What did my brother say?”

“That he couldn’t risk it.”

“Risk it? He was fighting for his life!”

“He apparently wasn’t worried about himself.”

“Who then?” demanded Puller.

“This was the ‘let slip’ part. He said he couldn’t risk it because if he was found innocent his family would suffer.”

There was a long moment of silence in the car, until Puller said, “My father and I are the only family he has. So he was talking about us? That
we
would be in danger if he got off?”

“Yes.”

“Someone threatened him. Unless he takes the fall, we get killed?”

“Landry said your brother changed during the course of the court-martial. Going from confident and indignant to, well, afraid.”

“And nobody did anything?”

“What could they do? Your brother never specifically said he had been threatened. Or that someone was going to hurt his family. In fact, when Landry pressed him on it he clammed up, wouldn’t say another word about it and swore him to secrecy. That meant Landry could not share it with the prosecutor or the court.”

Puller slumped back in his seat. He felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to his skull and then parked an Abrams tank on his chest. He felt as cold as death.

My brother has been rotting in prison to protect me?

Kirk said, “You shouldn’t feel guilty, Puller. You knew nothing about it.”

Puller stared out the window at a young couple walking past holding hands. “Maybe I didn’t want to know,” he said at last. “I could have found out. I’m an investigator. I could have found out. That’s what I do.”

“Better late than never,” replied Kirk. “What are you going to do now?”

“I need the names of the witnesses. Do you have them?”

“Yes. But what will you do with that information?”

“Find out the truth. That’s what I really do, Shireen. I find out the truth. And maybe this time I can save my brother if I do find it.”

“Well, you also might find a lot more than you bargained for.”

I
APPRECIATE YOUR
filling me in on this, Puller,” said Knox.

They were sitting in the lobby bar of the hotel where Shireen Kirk was staying. Kirk was upstairs in her room getting some sleep. Puller had met Knox here for a drink and then told her all that Kirk had disclosed to him in the car.

“You needed to know.”

She sipped on a glass of Prosecco while he nursed a beer.

“I take it Ms. Kirk didn’t want to tell me, though. She waited until you two were alone.”

“She plays everything close to the vest.”

“Well, with this I can’t say I blame her.”

Knox gazed around the bar. It was active, with lots of patrons, some with dates and some looking for companionship at least for one night.

“What do you intend to do now?”

Puller slipped out a piece of paper. “I intend to talk to these two people.”

Knox glanced at the paper. “The pair of witnesses?”

Puller finished off his beer and nodded. “Susan Reynolds is still in government service but works at Fort Belvoir in Virginia. Niles Robinson works for a private government contractor and is based in Fairfax, Virginia.”

“So you doing this long-distance or close-up?”

“I don’t interview people long-distance if I can help it.”

“Interview or interrogate?” she shot back.

“That’s largely up to them.”

“What do you really hope to find?”

“Answers.”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Tomorrow morning. There’s an eight a.m. flight out, gets into Reagan National a couple hours later.”

He paid the tab and they rose. He hooked her by the arm as they were about to head out. “The witnesses don’t know I’m coming, Knox. I’d like to keep the surprise.”

“If you’re afraid I’ll call them, you’re free to sleep in my hotel room tonight and keep watch. I got a room here before I met you in the bar.”

He studied her silently, his gaze taking in every point of her expression worth evaluating.

“I trust you, Knox.”

She said angrily, “No, I don’t think you do. So if you don’t want to spend the night in my room, I’ll spend the night in yours. And then we’ll head to the East Coast and see what we see.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, you’re wrong. I saw the way you just looked at me. So I
do
have to do it.”

“Look, I’ll just get my own room.”

“I thought you
had
a room.”

“I checked out after I left you at the cemetery. My plan was to run down some more leads and then head back to D.C. Obviously, with what happened with Macri and Shireen being here, things changed. We can head back tomorrow morning. I’ll get a room here.”

“Puller—”

But he had already walked out of the bar and headed over to the front desk while Knox, her arms folded across her chest, moodily watched. Puller spent a long time with the hotel representative and the woman made several phone calls while Puller looked increasingly frustrated. Finally the woman put down the phone for the last time, shook her head, and said, “I’m really sorry. I even tried the downtown Y. Nothing.”

“Thanks,” said Puller tightly.

Puller walked back over to Knox. She said, “So what’s the word?”

Puller was stone-faced. “The word is there’s some sort of cattlemen’s convention in town. They just rented the last room in the hotel ten minutes ago.”

“Cattlemen?” said Knox, a smirk playing over her lips. “I didn’t know they had conventions. What do they talk about? The best ways to cow-tip?”

Puller went on as though he hadn’t heard her. “Which means there’s not a hotel room to be had anywhere.”

“You’re wrong there, Puller. There’s
my
room. Let’s go.”

Puller came out of the bathroom in Knox’s room dressed in sweats.

Knox passed by him and handed him her phone. “You can check the log. I didn’t make a call, text, or email while you were changing. And if you want you can hold on to it until we get to D.C.”

“You’re really blowing this out of proportion.”

“I don’t think so,” she said tersely. “I think I’m blowing it just right, actually.”

She slammed the bathroom door behind her. A minute later he heard the shower start up.

Puller looked around the room. There was only the one bed. And a chair. He grimaced. Contorting his nearly six-foot-four-inch body into a chair for a full night did not appeal to him in the least.

He eyed the floor. Hardwood.
Great
.

He called the front desk and asked about a roll-away bed. None were available. Apparently, several of the “cattlemen” were doubling up.

“We have a crib,” the woman said.

“Right,” said Puller before he hung up.

Smartass.

He sat in the chair and eyed her phone. She had disabled the auto lock, because he didn’t have to input a passcode. She had made no calls and had received none. He checked texts and emails. Nothing. Just like Knox had said. He checked the trash and junk caches. Zip there too.

He set the phone down on the nightstand, stretched out his limbs, and waited. And while he waited, he listened to the water running in the shower, and then he heard Knox singing. And before he realized it, his thoughts had drifted back to an unlikely person.

His mother.

It had been the rockiest of relationships between his parents. She was a gentle woman, but with a spine of iron when she was pushed into a corner, a place John Puller Sr. had often forced her. Yet she had doted on her boys, until she was suddenly gone from their lives one day.

She had showered. That’s what had prompted the memory now. Puller had heard the water running and his mother singing, as she often did. Then the water had stopped. The bathroom door had opened and then closed. Puller had gone outside in the backyard to play. He remembered looking toward the house on the base where his father was stationed. His mother had been at the window, a towel still around her and her long hair still wet. She was looking at him. She smiled and waved. And he waved back.

That had been the last time he had ever seen her. When he had come back inside hours later she was gone. A search was conducted, but she was never found. His father had never spoken her name after that.

Jacqueline Puller had been Jackie to her friends, of which she had more than his father ever would. People feared his father. People loved his mother. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of her. Not a single day.

He conjured that face at the window. The smile, the wave. All of it full of love and reassurance, with nothing to predict such a catastrophic and mysterious end.

The image began to fade as the voice intruded.

“Puller? Puller?”

Something shook him by the arm.

He came out of this memory, opened his eyes, and looked up. For one vastly unsettling moment Puller thought his long-lost mother was standing in front of him.

But it was Knox standing there draped in a towel, her hair pinned up and damp.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking genuinely worried about him.

He cleared his throat, gathered his composure, and nodded as he abruptly stood, causing her to jump back as he almost stepped on her bare foot.

“Sorry, just have a bunch of stuff on my mind.”

“Gee, I wonder what that could be?”

She smiled and he forced one to his lips. He picked up her phone and handed it back to her. “I think this is yours.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep it?”

“I’m sure I don’t need to.”

She set the phone on the nightstand and eyed the chair, the floor, and then the bed. “I guess we better discuss sleeping arrangements.”

“Look, I can just sleep in the lobby. There’s a couch there.”

She said in a mock playful tone, “What, you don’t trust yourself spending the night in a woman’s hotel room? What about the Rangers’ legendary self-discipline?”

He glanced down at her towel-draped figure. Then he abruptly looked up. “I trust myself.” He took in a whiff of air. Her hair smelled of vanilla. He felt an odd sensation creep up his spine. He shook it off, with difficulty.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I can sleep in the chair or on the floor.”

“You can sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep in the chair.”

“Knox, it’s your room.”

“And you’re a lot bigger than me. And I’ve slept in far worse places, trust me.”

She grabbed some things from her suitcase and went back into the bathroom. A minute later she came out dressed in shorts and a tank top, her hair down around her shoulders. She snagged a pillow off the bed and a blanket from the closet. She curled up in the chair and put the blanket over her.

“You sure about this?” said Puller, who had been watching her uncomfortably.

“For the last time, yes. Can you hit the light?”

Puller swiped the switch with his hand. Then he got into bed, lay back against the pillow, and lifted the sheet up to his chest.

Knox sat up in the chair. “What were you thinking about when I came out of the bathroom?” she asked. “Your brother?”

“No. Somebody else in the family.”

“Your father?”

“No,” he said, his tone blunt.

“Okay, I get the message. I’ll stop asking.”

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound their breathing.

“It was my mother. I was thinking about her.”

He glanced over. Knox was looking at him.

“Is she still alive?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“What happened to her?”

“She disappeared when I was a kid. She was waving at me from the window of our house while I was outside playing. She was just there and then she was gone. Never saw her again.”

“Puller, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve…I’ve never told anyone about this. At least not since it happened.”

“I can understand that.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t…”

“Puller, if there’s something I can do, it’s keep a secret. I would never tell anyone. I swear.”

“Thanks, Knox.”

“But why did you start thinking of her now? Because of your brother?”

“No. It was your being in the shower. And the singing.”

She looked embarrassed. “I was singing in the shower? Jesus, sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it. I’m sorry. I can’t even carry a tune.”

“No, you were fine.” Then he grew silent.

She said, “Is that the last memory you have of your mother, apart from seeing her in the window? She was singing in the shower?”

Puller nodded, because he couldn’t speak right now.

“I had no idea, Puller. I never would have—”

“I know,” he said interrupting her. “It’s okay.” He paused. “Some family, huh. Brother on the run. Mother disappeared. And my father’s sitting in a VA hospital still thinking he’s heading up an Army corps.”

She said, “My grandfather had Alzheimer’s. It’s a…terrible disease. It wipes everything important away from the inside out.”

“Yeah, it does,” he said curtly, and then there was silence once more.

“Good night, Puller.”

“Good night, Knox.”