Read The Housewife Assassin's Killer App Online
Authors: Josie Brown
The Housewife Assassin's Killer App (34 page)
Carl’s death was my salvation.
At least, this is what Lee Chiffray is trying to convince me. “Problem solved—for both of us.”
We are standing side by side, drinking wine on the terrace of the New York penthouse.
If what Lee says is true, it is our rendezvous spot for the last time.
“The Coast Guard never found his body,” I insist.
“The explosion at sea left no shred of evidence. Everything sunk—even the boat’s steering wheel. The water is deep, and filled with all sorts of large fish and predators.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Carl is the biggest predator of all. You know that firsthand.”
“If he is alive, after what he pulled he has nowhere to go,” Lee insists.
“He has friends in Russia and China and North Korea and Dubai,” I counter. “Those are big places where it’s easy to hide.”
“Why would he resurface? Better to be thought dead, than hunted down again.” Lee pauses, and adds, “And for political purposes, it allows the U.S. to save face as much as those we trust the least.”
“Yes, well, I presume the DOD will want to keep the breach a secret.” In other words, business as usual in Spooklandia.
He laughs. “You guessed right.” His smile disappears. “Donna, if the decision were yours, would you want it known that Carl Stone sabotaged his country yet again for money and power?”
I wince. “You know very well, that’s a trick question. As much as I’d personally love to see him back in jail, now that my children know of his existence I’d hate for them to suffer the shame of being the progeny of a known traitor and terrorist.”
“Your children will be affected, either way—even if they were told he was killed serving his country. So, how would you want to see it played out?”
I shrug. “In any event, the decision isn’t mine to make.”
“It may not be yours, but it’s mine,” he says.
“Are you saying my wish is your command?” For this I down the rest of the great cabernet in my glass.
He turns to me. “Let’s pretend it is. How would you want to play it?”
It breaks my heart, but I have to say it. “The truth. Always.”
“Thought so.” He shrugs. “As it turns out, you’ll get your way without any assistance from me. Just before I came here, I got a call from Ryan. Acme’s cryptography team broke the Mad Hacker’s Vigenèr cipher. It led to a secure cloud file with a perfect cyber trail and full documentation of all of Carl’s actions regarding the stolen intel. And get this—the moment the cloud opened, it automatically released emails to press outlets all over the world, which document the break-in and the intel theft. The article was the work of the Clark Kent League.”
“Under whose byline?” I ask.
“Mike Willoughby and N.M. Hacker,” he answers.
At least their lives weren’t taken in vain.
“So, the decision wasn’t either of ours to make.”
He nods.
I wink. “Good. I would have hated it if you had disappointed me.”
“I pray I never do.” Lee isn’t laughing. “At least there’s the Clark Kent League to keep me on the straight and narrow, along with every other head of state.”
“Glad to see you’re such a fan. Does this mean you’re open to, say, an Edward Snowden pardon?”
He pauses, then says, “My goal is to assure that the Edward Snowdens of the world need not run first, in fear of retaliation for exposing the truth.”
“Spoken like a true politician.” Suddenly, a thought hits me. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
He frowns. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re the money behind the Clark Kent League! You protected the Mad Hacker. You told her about the existence of Project Clark Kent.”
He says nothing. He merely grins.
But the smiles fade soon enough for both of us at the thought of Nymphette.
I lay my hand in his. “This is good-bye.”
He squeezes it. Then he puts it to his lips. “Do you know why Carl took the intel?”
I laugh. “Because he was always a greedy son of a bitch.”
Lee shrugs. “Yeah, okay, that’s one reason. But there was another one. When Nymphette learned from Susan the role Carl played in the missing intel, she broke into his personal computer to find it.”
I nod. “Yes, she told me. Apparently he had a file the size of Kansas, just on me.”
“She found my blackmail file too,” he admits. “She erased it.”
“Without it, it was only a matter of time before Carl was back behind bars,” I reason. “Congratulations. You’re now a free man.”
“If you have a conscience, you’re never free from your guilt. Particularly not in this job.”
I tip my wine glass toward his. “Long live Nymphette.”
We savor her memory over a three-hundred-dollar bottle of Domaine du Pégaü Châteauneuf-du-Pape Cuvée Réservée.
Without her, even the best wine is bittersweet at best.
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I have just walked off the plane and toward passenger pick-up when the Caller ID on my cell phone shows that Emma is calling. “So, um, what’s your ETA?”
I look at my watch. “I’m walking out of the airport now. Why do you ask?”
“Damn it. Not good enough. My water broke, and
it hurts like hell
! We’re on our way to the hospital now.”
I do the math. “Oh, my God! Emma, aren’t you a few weeks early?”
“I know! Aren’t first babies usually late?” She’s breathing heavily. “It happened the minute Arnie presented me with the wedding rings he designed for us!” Now she’s sobbing. “They are so beautiful!”
“Quit crying and keep breathing! The second Jack gets here, we’ll head directly to the hospital—I swear.”
“Good,” Emma sighs with relief. “Listen, I need to put you on speaker. Hal is trying to convince Arnie that home delivery may be better for the baby. In fact, Hal insists the two of them could deliver this kid without a doctor, let alone a doula.”
Suddenly, I’m glad I gave Hal a new home. “I think it’s time you pull the plug on Hal.”
Emma stops heaving long enough to gasp, “I would, but he’s just downloaded all these wonderful nursery stories for the baby, and it would be a shame to—”
I’m laughing so hard that the other passengers walking toward pick-up are staring at me. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I’m just about to dial Jack when I see him, right outside of the security gate. He is holding a bouquet of yellow roses.
He drops them when I jump into his arms.
When finally we’re through making out like teenagers, he murmurs, “Don’t ever leave. It’s only been twenty-four hours, and my body aches for you.”
I tingle at the thought. “Imagine how it will feel when we get home—but first, the hospital. Emma is in labor.”
He laughs as he wraps an arm around my waist and leads me out the door.
Just at that moment, my cell buzzes with a text.
“Don’t answer it,” he warns me.
I laugh. “I have no intention of doing so.”
I’m just about to turn it off when I see the caller ID:
MAD HACKER.
I show it to him.
“Heck yes, open it,” he insists.
It’s a text that reads, simply:
U saved a single soul—mine. Thanks 4 that.
Jack’s eyes reflect my own relief. “How did she escape the drone attack?” he asks.
Great question. I text it to her.
Nymphette’s response:
Mirror trick. Decoys R Us
“So, that’s how she got away from the drone’s missile,” Jack murmurs.
I shake my head. “I don’t get it.”
“Magicians do it too—create illusions. The drone’s operator thought he was firing upon the cabin. Instead, it was a mirrored reflection of the cabin. The illusion was far enough away that she had time to escape through the tunnel.”
I swipe to open the attachment included with the text. It’s a file labeled DONNA.
Carl’s file.
With a click, it’s erased.
That a girl…
I think.
When we get home from the hospital, I’ll open a very good bottle of wine.
To celebrate a new birth, and a rebirth.
I might even find the words to explain to my children that Carl is our past, and Jack is our future.
Next Up!
RELEASE DATE: DECEMBER 2014
In Book 9 of the Housewife Assassin Series:
It’s up to housewife assassin Donna Stone to save a hotel filled with international dignitaries from the terrorists demanding ransoms that will bankrupt the World Bank.
But the clock is ticking, and precious lives are at stake—including those of Donna’s children.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I owe a lot to the following people, whose love and support gives me the courage to write, every day:
Karin Tabke, who first fell in love with this book, and pushed me (quite adamantly; what are friends for?) to make it a priority; Andy Brown, who is a go-to guru for anything technical and metaphysical. Andy, thanks making the virtual a reality; Rita Abrams, Kendra Williams, Pam Welsh, Elisa Turner, Janell Parque, Susan DiMuzio, Dianne Wallace, Jeanette Conkling, Kimberly Turner and Tom Johnson, who have sharper eyes than mine; Austin Brown and Anna Brown, who are my emotional touchstones, in so many ways; Eddie Concha, Andree Belle, Darien and Don Coleman, Linda May and Ben Brown, and Mario Martinez and Patricia Steadman, who are always there to encourage, nurture and feed me.
And always last but never least, Martin Brown: you complete me.
Dear readers: If you liked the story and Donna, I’d be honored to get a review from you! We authors live by them, and they are always appreciated.
Thank you,
—Josie Brown
HOW TO REACH JOSIE
www.HousewifeAssassinsHandbook.com
www.facebook.com/JosieBrownAuthor
NOVELS IN THE
HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN SERIES
The Housewife Assassin’s
Handbook
(Book 1)
Every desperate housewife wants an alias. Donna Stone has one … and it happens to be government-sanctioned. But Donna earned it the hard way. Her husband was killed the day she delivered their third child. To avenge her husband's murder, Donna leads a secret life: as an assassin. But espionage makes for strange bedfellows, and brings new meaning to that old adage, "Honey, I'm home..."
