"You were talking on your cell phone."

Jack swore he could hear the kid banging his head-or whatever-against the inside of the SUV and screaming through the gag. "Oh, right."

Despite the text message he'd received about her kidnapping, Jack had been calling Karen's cell number over and over. It was pathetic, but he had to do something. His calls kept going to her voice mail, and each time he told her he loved her after the beep. The officer must have seen him making the last call.

"I'm sorry," he said, cringing as he handed over his license, registration, and insurance card. It sounded like a riot had erupted in the back of the SUV. "That was stupid. I'll just sign the ticket, and you can get back to more important business."

The officer glanced up from Jack's license. "You don't think this is important?"

"Of course I do. I didn't mean it that way."

"How did you mean it?"

Jack swallowed hard. He could feel the incident escalating. "I just meant that I know you guys are busy protecting us, and I'm sorry I've taken up your time."

"Are you all right, Mr. Jensen?" the cop asked pointedly. "You seem nervous."

Jack glanced at the trees. That thumping inside the SUV sounded like thunder. "I'm fine."

"Is something wrong?"

"No," he said loudly. "No," he repeated less intensely when the cop gave him another suspicious look.

"Go sit in your vehicle while I do a little more work."

"Sir, I-"

"Wait a minute," the cop said, turning back around. He'd been heading to his car. "Your name's Jack Jensen."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you related to Bill Jensen?"

"He's my father."

The officer shook his head sadly. "We've been trying hard to find him, son. He's a good man. He's helped out our barracks a lot over the years." He handed Jack the information back. "Don't use your phone while you're driving from now on. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry about your dad. I hope that all works out for the best."

"Thank you."

Jack turned, climbed into the cab, and let out a sigh of relief. Bill was missing, but he'd still managed to save the day.

"You missed your chance," Jack called over his shoulder as he started up the SUV and the cop moved past. "Making all that noise wasn't very smart." He wanted to make sure there was no more noise for the rest of the trip. "Do it again, and things will go even worse for you. My brother wasn't kidding about using any and all means necessary."

Jack started to hit the gas, then hesitated and sank back into the seat. He had to calm down first. His hands were shaking too hard to drive.

"WHAT DO you want, Commander McCoy?" Baxter asked. He nodded in the direction of President Dorn, who was sitting in a wingback chair on the other side of the fireplace. "Why did you ask for this meeting?"

"I've done some back-channel 411, Mr. Baxter. I've got some things I want to talk about."

"I thought we settled this," Baxter said angrily. "I thought we'd covered everything because you-"

"What are your issues, Skylar?" Dorn interrupted calmly. "I want to make certain you are one hundred percent comfortable as to the efficacy and honor of what I've asked of you. I need your talents. I need your protection, Skylar. You can only give me that if you're completely satisfied that it's the right thing to do." He hesitated. "You're not a soldier of fortune, no mercenary here. You must be pa.s.sionate about your cause, my cause. I sense that about you, Skylar. I did, right from the start." He smiled. "Well, right after you snuck up on me."

So they were going with the good copbad cop thing, Skylar realized. Baxter's twisted expression had him looking like he was c.r.a.pping razor blades. Dorn looked serene, and he'd just used her first name three times in fifteen seconds. Well, all right. Game on.

"Are you certain we have privacy in here, Mr. President?" she asked. "I don't want anyone hearing this who shouldn't."

"We're fine," Dorn answered, without deferring to Baxter, who would have been the more appropriate one to answer that question.

For a few seconds she focused on regulating her breathing, as she would just before a kill, to calm herself. She'd met some sports stars and even a few famous rockers, and she hadn't gotten nervous around them. But this was the president of the United States. This was her commander in chief.

"You've asked me to eliminate Bill Jensen, Troy Jensen, Jack Jensen, and Shane Maddux as soon as possible."

"Correct," Baxter agreed, "as well as the rest of Red Cell Seven. You are to put a team together, and you are to wage war on the entire cell."

"And remember," Dorn added, "you aren't supposed to know that Red Cell Seven exists. Anyone who helps you cannot know about the unit. You'll have to make up some kind of cover story for the mission that doesn't involve RC7."

"Understood."

"Are you sure, Commander?" Baxter asked. "Are you sure you understand that? I feel like I have to make absolutely certain of that now."

Skylar flashed Baxter an irritated look, but didn't go back at him. "Bill Jensen's been missing for nine months," she said. "I've checked around, and he's legitimately off the grid."

"So?"

"Depending on whether he's already dead," Skylar went on, "he is or was a pillar of society. He was CEO of First Manhattan for many years and served on the boards of several high-profile charitable organizations, in addition to giving a great deal of money to them." She paused. "Troy Jensen's the all-American guy with a Dartmouth diploma and some pretty incredible accomplishments all around the world to his credit. The Seven Summits, circ.u.mnavigating the globe by himself, and on and on. Jack's Wall Street, but there's nothing really wrong with him." Her eyes glistened. "Now, I took the liberty of calling some close a.s.sociates who live in some pretty black sectors of U.S. intel, and Shane Maddux might be-"

"What are you driving at?" Baxter demanded.

"They all seem like good people. All except Maddux, and that's kind of understandable, given who he is and what he does."

"They tried to kill me last fall," Dorn said solemnly. "They had a sniper shoot at me on that stage in Los Angeles. They were all involved in that, from Maddux to Bill Jensen."

"I know about the a.s.sa.s.sination attempt," Skylar replied deliberately. "The whole world knows about it."

"Of course," Dorn agreed self-consciously, looking down.

"Based on what I now know," Skylar continued, "I could come to the conclusion that Shane Maddux was involved in that a.s.sa.s.sination, Mr. President. But I'm having a very hard time convincing myself that the Jensens-"

"Troy Jensen killed your sister Bianca," Baxter interrupted, "on orders from his direct superior, Shane Maddux, and Troy's father, Bill."

The room blurred before Skylar as soon as Baxter said it. "What?" she whispered.

"It was made to look like an accident," Baxter went on, "like Bianca's boyfriend was responsible. But Troy Jensen killed Bianca. Make no mistake about that, Commander. Troy Jensen is responsible for your sister's death, not her boyfriend."

Skylar couldn't remember the last time she'd been so thoroughly knocked off her game. It wasn't as if she was just vulnerable at this moment. She was completely defenseless, physically and mentally paralyzed as she processed Baxter's shocking a.s.sertion.

"Why?" she murmured.

The image of Bianca's boyfriend falling from the ledge in Denali was suddenly haunting her. He'd been staring back up at her in horror as he held on to the ledge by his fingertips, realizing his life could now be measured in seconds.

She shook her head. This couldn't be right. She'd seen the police report. Bianca's boyfriend had been drunk. He'd run off the road into a grove of trees, and she'd been killed on impact. No seat belt, and she'd flown through the windshield, shredding her beautiful face and her life forever.

"They were trying to smoke your father out," Baxter continued. "They made it clear they were going to make him regret it if he didn't come out of hiding and give himself up. When he didn't, they murdered your sister."

It was another haymaker, straight to her jaw. "My father was dead when my sister was killed," she said breathlessly. "The Alaskan Star went down in a storm out on the Bering Sea. All hands were lost. The Coast Guard confirmed that."

"No, Skylar," President Dorn replied. "That was a cover story to protect your father. I've seen the cla.s.sified reports. In fact, your father is still very much alive."

CHAPTER 28.

JACK PARKED Troy's SUV in the same spot on the same abandoned dirt road as they had the first time, and then sprinted for the farmhouse through the forest and the little daylight remaining.

Adrenaline coursed through him as he ran. He was still coming down off the terror of nearly being caught with Charlie Griffin bound and gagged in the back of the SUV. The razor-thin escape from the state trooper still had him spooked.

However, in a strange way, that terror had served a purpose. It had distracted him for a few brief moments from Karen's fate. Even on the way back here from the Jensen compound, he'd called her cell phone a few times. He'd probably tried her at least five more times. But of course, there'd been no answer, just her sweet voice telling him to leave a message and then the G.o.dd.a.m.n beep.

For the last thirty minutes he'd gotten a short reprieve from imminent danger. But now he was heading right back into it. Just before turning onto the dirt road, he'd spoken to Troy, and it was still all quiet at the farmhouse. But at some point Wayne and his friend would return, and there'd be a showdown. It was inevitable, and he promised himself one thing as he dodged through the trees in the fading light: If guns were drawn, he'd be the first one to shoot this time.

It turned out Charlie was seventeen, and he'd been very willing to talk, without Troy actually doing anything. The threats he'd overheard as he'd been splayed on the ground beside the gully had been plenty of motivation for him to spill his guts.

Charlie admitted that they'd taken Little Jack from Cheryl that morning off the street in Greenwich. That "they" included his father and another man named Harold Jennings. He'd gone on to explain that his father and Jennings had taken the little boy to another location a few hours before Jack and Troy had shown up. But Charlie swore he didn't know where that was or whom they were taking the boy to. He'd also sworn he knew nothing of a woman named Karen being kidnapped. Troy had said he was confident Charlie was telling the truth about all that, and that he hadn't been forced to do anything terrible to be convinced-which was a relief for Jack.

Then Jack had taken Charlie to the Jensen compound.

Jack and Troy had spoken by phone a few minutes ago, and Troy's plan was to keep looking for L.J. He didn't intend to refocus their efforts on Karen. He reasoned that their best chance of finding Karen was finding L.J., because of the text Jack had received indicating that whoever sent it had both of them. They had significant leads on L.J., but they'd be back to square one if they went after Karen. She'd lived with Jack at his apartment in Greenwich for the last six months, and she'd obviously been taken in Manhattan or on her way to the city. So trying to pick up her trail at Jack's apartment made no sense, and New York City was ninety minutes away through traffic. Time was of the essence right now. They couldn't afford ninety minutes or going back to square one.

Jack hated to admit it, but Troy was right about staying on L.J.'s trail. His instinct was screaming at him to go after Karen. But he realized that it didn't make sense-and that splitting up wasn't a good idea, either. He'd suggested calling Jennie, but Troy was against that, because then they'd tip their hand that they thought she was involved-if she really was. Troy wanted to keep surprise on their side if that was the case, and he claimed he had a plan that could determine her involvement. And if she was innocent, she wouldn't know anything, so there was no reason to call her-which Jack ultimately agreed was the right way to go.

The only thing Jack didn't agree with Troy on was keeping the cops out of it. He still felt it would be better to get the experts involved ASAP.

But Troy wouldn't hear of it. He absolutely believed that calling the cops would only diminish the chances of finding L.J. and Karen. Troy was convinced that this situation ultimately involved Red Cell Seven. And he believed that calling the cops would only make whoever had taken L.J and Karen dive deeper, maybe too deep to ever find, if the story went public and the kidnappers found out the police were working with the Jensens.

Jack stopped at the tree line in the now-long shadow of the barn to send Troy a text. The response came quickly. The coast was clear, according to the return message, and Jack knew Troy was the sender because the text had ended with **##, their agreed-upon all-clear code. The sender wasn't someone other than Troy trying to fool Jack, because that person wouldn't know the code. And Troy would never crack under any kind of torture or interrogation and give somebody that code. As far as Jack was concerned, Troy was the toughest son of a b.i.t.c.h on earth.

He was one of the luckiest, too. How the h.e.l.l he'd managed to dodge Charlie's gunshots from the pickup still mystified Jack. As Troy had predicted, Charlie had fired wildly in the chaos. But he'd shot from nearly point-blank range and fired at least three times. Surely, he should have hit Troy at least once.

Jack broke from the tree line but didn't stop at the barn this time.

When he was past the barn, he saw Troy standing beside the F-150, which he'd driven out of the gully while Jack was gone. The vehicle was now back in front of the farmhouse, where it had been when they'd come out of the tree line together two hours ago.

"Everything go all right?" Troy asked as Jack approached him.

"Yeah, good."

"Charlie's locked in the cell?"

"Yup."

"No problem with security?"

Troy had been very specific about not letting the security staff see what was going on. They were both still concerned that someone on the inside was involved in what had happened today.

"I went into the garage and shut the door before I took the kid out. They couldn't have seen me."

"Good." Troy patted Jack on the shoulder. "Now you have to forget the combination to the lock on that cell door in the bas.e.m.e.nt." He grinned good-naturedly. "If you don't, I'll have to kill you. Technically, that prison cell is an RC7 a.s.set."

"I've known about that cell since we were-"

"You should have joined us the other night," Troy said. "It was a mistake to walk out on that ceremony."

"You live your life, and I'll live mine. I've got to look in the mirror every morning."

"Whatever." Troy's smile faded. "Next time you shoot first," he said, tapping Jack hard on the chest. "You hear me?"

"Oh, I hear you."

"That's what you said last time."

Troy might be the expert in these matters, but he was still the little brother. "I hear you."

"You're a good man, Jack, the best. I've put my life in your hands, I'll probably do it again, and I'll have no hesitation doing it. And that's the ultimate compliment coming from me."

"Hey, don't placate-"

"But what you don't get," Troy cut in, "is that some of the people we deal with aren't good. Just the opposite, in fact. They're evil, pure evil."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Of course. I get that, brother."

Troy shook his head. "No, you don't. You think you do, but you really don't. Down deep you believe everyone has good inside them somewhere, even if it's just a crumb. You truly believe everyone can be saved if enough of an effort is made." He kicked at the ground. "But that's not true. Some people can't be saved. Even worse, they don't want to be saved. They want to be evil. They like it. They were born that way. They won't change. They can't change."

"Well, that's not true. Everyone can see the light if you just-"

"See." Troy smiled grimly. "You don't get it." He inhaled deeply. "I hope that doesn't cost you the ultimate at some point. "

"What happened?" Jack asked after a few moments of silence, pointing at the dark stain on Troy's shirt. Troy had winced just then.

"Nothing."