True Honor (31 page)

“Luther,” Joe replied. “We can track the shipment for days if necessary before we hit it.”

Darcy looked at Gabriel. “For a short window of time Vladimir, Luther, Renee, and probably Jerry are going to be inside this hotel during the days leading up to her birthday celebration on the sixteenth. We need to take Luther and the others while they’re here. Is there a way to make sure the explosives are picked up during that same time?”

“Weather may help us for a few days,” Tom suggested. “The rain front passing north of the British Virgin Islands tonight is churning up the sea, and it’s not safe for a small boat to enter that cove. It would be tossed onto those razor reefs and ripped apart. They won’t try to access the explosives for at least the next three days.”

“We could plant news of a Navy exercise in the paper, a ruse, that will let them know they don’t want to be around that island after, say, the seventeenth,” Sam said. “We can box in the dates.”

“Do one better than that,” Joe suggested. “Put a boat in distress, even sink one, and mount a rescue effort to find the survivors. Stage it right outside of Razor Reef Island and station a military cutter leading the search right there at the island. Don’t declare the search ended until we know Luther is here at the hotel. We can use that Navy exercise announcement to box in the other end of the timeline. The buyers will be so eager to collect their explosives, so relieved the stash wasn’t stumbled upon that they’ll move in to get them as soon as we move away.”

“I really like it,” Gabe agreed. “When the buyers pick up the explosives, we simultaneously take them at the island and Luther at the hotel. It just leaves the question, will Luther show up at the hotel? We’re betting he will. Let’s get down to details and figure out how many people we need where to make this happen.”

Darcy picked up her notes. It would help if they could improve the odds that Luther would be here. Sergey could get Luther to this hotel. This was a case of the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

It was time to call Sergey.

* * *

Darcy found Sam a tube for the satellite maps. One by one those at the meeting had slipped out to make sure they were all away from the hotel before an early riser might notice them. She had a brief moment of privacy with Sam, but she wasn’t sure what to say.
I’ve never said a harder good-bye.

Sam studied her as he slid the maps into the tube. “You’ll stay in this command center, Dar? You’ll let the tactical guys be the ones to go in and take Luther and the others?”

She rested her hand on his forearm. “I’ll stay on the intelligence side of this,” she promised. “I have no desire to be part of the takedown team.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

She smiled at him. “I know; I’m glad you care.”

He picked up his gear. She could read the fatigue in his deliberate movements, the huskiness now in his voice. With the preparation work SEAL Team Nine had already done to take these explosives, Sam had been awake close to forty-eight hours.

She wanted to keep him here a few more minutes, but it was best if he got going so his long day could end. She stepped forward and hugged him. “Take care of yourself.”

The map tube hit the back of her knee as his arms closed around her. He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. “The next two weeks are going to be the longest of my life. I want to be here.”

“I know.” She tugged him down to kiss him, putting months of emotion into it. “I love you, Samuel,” she whispered. “This is my last mission. We get Luther, then I’m going home to North Dakota and work on my house. From now on, I promise I will always be very easy to find.”

His hand slid behind her head to hold her close. “Do you want to come to Thanksgiving dinner with me? I’ve got a few obligations to finish up before I can ask about dates farther out than that. So we’ll start with Thanksgiving and just kind of work out the following decades from there.”

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “I would be delighted to join you for Thanksgiving dinner.”

He rubbed her back. “I love you too, Dar. I didn’t come looking for you, but I never was so blessed as the day you crossed my path.”

“It’s mutual.” She rested her head against his chest, happy that the corner had been turned to this becoming something permanent. She was going to be one of the best SEAL girlfriends a guy could ever have. She stepped back. She had to let him go. He was a soldier, and he had a job to do. “Stay safe out there.”

He picked up the plans. “We both need to go to work, but when this is over . . .”

She loved that twinkle in his eyes when he smiled. “I can’t wait for those first days off.”

Twenty-Six

* * *

AUGUST 5

Monday, 2:32 a.m.

Razor Reef Island

The sailboat was a beautiful craft; it was too bad it would soon be at the bottom of the sea. As captain of the vessel, Sam leaned back against his safety line and brought the last sail down. Without the captured wind to counter the force of the waves, the sailboat turned broadside. The deck pitched thirty degrees to starboard as the boat was battered by waves. The sound of sail ripping was ugly. It was a shame to ruin a perfectly good boat. “Are we set, Wolf?”

“We’re set,” his partner hollered back.

Lord, don’t let a rogue wave hit us now. I want to live to enjoy Darcy’s company for the rest of my days.
He had a ring to buy her when he was next on dry land.

Sam jammed the tiller. Adrift at sea, the sailboat would be driven relentlessly toward Razor Reef Island. He made the final radio call to the local authorities reporting a boat in trouble. They would respond as normal but would be quietly told not to risk lives during the days to follow searching for survivors.

“I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my life, but up till now blowing up a civilian boat was not one of them.” Wolf turned on the flashlight to signal the other SEALs that they were ready for the final act of this carefully scripted play.

Sam wrapped his gloved hands around the thick rope threaded through the final knapsack of explosives and struggled against the pitching deck to join his partner. “Let’s go.”

Wolf stepped off the deck into the sea. Sam followed, letting gravity win.

The water swallowed him, tugging him down. The current took them quickly away from the boat and the danger of being slammed against the hull. As his final act as the boat skipper, Sam released the final satchel of explosives on their weighted line.

It wasn’t that easy to make an intentional act appear an accident. They wanted to leave behind a wreck still essentially in one piece so television pictures would make this story linger longer in the news cycle. If the small blast through the engine room didn’t bring the boat down, the final satchel of explosives was a depth charge, the concussion of the blast designed to rip enough leaks in the hull to flood the boat. They wanted the boat to go down as near to the point of the last radio call as possible.

Wolf swam over to join him and clipped his safety line to Sam’s combat vest to connect them. Wolf laughed against the force of the waves as he tried to turn away from the wind to be able to speak without getting clipped by breaking water. “You have to give Darcy credit. The name of the boat is a stroke of brilliance.”

The boat
Kendra
would be in news updates for days to come. Sergey’s wife was being memorialized in the mission that would capture the man who had arranged her death. “Let’s get out of here.”

With powerful kicks, they swam away from the floundering boat. They could hear the Zodiac before it appeared. The black rubber craft materialized from the darkness, slamming against the waves. The SEAL guiding it turned so they had to swim to the craft rather than have it run over them.

Sam caught hold of the netting draped over the side and pulled himself up and over the taut rubber, flopping onto the bottom of the raft. Wolf landed beside him. The boat turned and raced to the north. The sailboat was only a bobbing light against the sea as the running lights still flickered.

Wolf tugged out the remote activation pad. “You want the honors?”

“Go ahead.”

Wolf turned the key.

The explosives aboard the sailboat blew through the engine compartment, sending a huge plume of flames into the night. It was followed moments later by an underwater blast that shook the Zodiac and left it quivering in a fine vibration.

They watched the sailboat sink in less than a minute.

“We did that job right.”

“Hooyah, Wolf.” Sam brought the captain’s logbook from his inside pocket and dropped it into the water. “Rest in peace, Kendra.”

AUGUST 7

Wednesday, 8:12 a.m.

Pierre Hotel / Nassau, New Providence Island, Bahamas

Darcy leaned over to the small table in the command center suite and picked up the remote. She turned up the volume on the TV. “The search is now fully underway for the missing sailors off Razor Reef Island.”

“A boat sinking off the island where his explosive shipment is stored,” Gabriel said, passing her a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast. “Luther must be pacing right now at the ill-timed hand fate has dealt him.”

Sam and Wolf had done a good job with the demolition; the first pictures from the sunken sailboat had been broadcast today from divers going down to see if the ship had become the grave for the two missing sailors. “I wonder what his buyers will think if they’re thwarted from collecting the shipment when originally planned.”

“I hope they give Luther sleepless nights. What is Renee doing?”

Darcy looked at the second monitor. “She hasn’t been seen yet, and no breakfast has gone up. I somehow doubt she will sleep this late once Luther arrives; he’s a morning person.” They were falling into a routine for this surveillance. She took the early morning hours, Gabriel took the day, and over breakfast they relayed any observations with the night crew.

Gabe wheeled back to the window and picked up binoculars to look at the cafe at the end of the block. “Sergey is just sitting out there, drinking his coffee.” The note passed to the Russian embassy had brought him to the scene.

“You know word has filtered back to Luther that Sergey is here. He’s daring Luther to send Vladimir or Jerry after him,” Darcy said.

“You have to admire Sergey’s cool nerves. If Luther wants to give Renee her wish to stay here with some friends in the penthouse, he can’t have the police investigating a sniper murder right outside the hotel. So Sergey sits there and makes a statement. And while he does, they aren’t paying as much attention as they should to who else is around watching them.”

“Sergey knows the British Virgin Islands; he knows the Bahamas. You notice he showed up twenty-four hours after we passed the note to his embassy. He was probably already in the area.” Darcy got up. “You want to watch the place for a while? I think I’ll pay a visit to an old friend.”

“Darcy, you promised Sam not to do another solo.”

“Sergey is no threat to me; he’s after Luther. We need to know what he has found out. One last time before I end this career.”

“I agree with your assessment on Sergey. You still determined to retire again when this is over?”

“Absolutely.” She walked over to her case. “Should I become old or young?”

Gabriel considered the question. “Keep with the setting—go young.”

* * *

Darcy took a seat at the table across from Sergey, setting down her second bagel and coffee. The book she was determined to eventually finish if it took this entire war to do so she placed on the table. “Thanks for coming.”

“My pleasure, Darcy.”

She accepted the section of the paper he offered. It was in Russian, but with a little reading the words came back with ease. She turned to the international news. “Do we need to talk about what’s coming?”

“I’ve already planned the ending.”

“So have I,” she said softly. “Probably a different one than you.”

He smiled at her. “Read your paper, my friend.”

“Are you sure, Sergey?”

“It is time to have this end. I agree with your note, ‘What is the enemy of my enemy, but my friend?’ I brought some of my own friends along this time. Friends with debts to settle.” He looked over. “We’re on the same side in this. No matter what happens.”

“Sergey—” She didn’t know what to say at the intense focus she could see in his eyes, his expression. “It would be best not to get in our way.”

“My family were not the only ones killed; I was not the only one pressured. A few others also want to see Vladimir and Luther dealt with. Luther is coming in on his boat Friday, Darcy. Sunset.”

She absorbed the news he offered so matter-of-factly. “You’re not going to let him arrive.”

“Not if I can help it.”

There were times she knew things that were hard to bear. The weight of this one . . . “Be careful, Sergey.”

He set down his orange juice glass. “Please tell Gabriel I appreciate the note.”

“I will.”

He got to his feet and picked up the cane he was using. “Why, Darcy? You didn’t owe it to me.”

She didn’t understand Gabriel’s reasons, but she was honest enough to admit her own. “I’d like Sam to live to see retirement.”

His expression softened. “Yes. I thought there might be such a reason.” He touched his hat. “Until Friday.”

She nodded and watched Sergey walk away.

One of us will find Luther in the coming weeks: Sergey, Gabriel, Sam, myself. Lord, I pray for strength to get us through the next days, for safety. Don’t let me shirk from completing this task.

There was a time in every investigation when the work was essentially done and the waiting began, for the pieces to fall into place and the ending to play out. This one was playing out on its own momentum now.

Lord, I’ve never felt less ready for the end game. Please don’t let me make a mistake that costs us capturing Luther.

Twenty-Seven

* * *

AUGUST 9

Friday, 5:15 p.m.

Nassau, New Providence Island, Bahamas

Darcy took a seat on the bench overlooking the marina. The day had been a scorcher and it was ending humid. She raised binoculars to look around the crowded piers, searching for Luther, praying and hoping to see Sergey. Only one of them would likely show up here tonight.