No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(15)

The fear on his face was a little bit of a punch, reminding me of my own daughter. Reminding me of what I’d lost. He saw my face and immediately knew the wound he was cutting open. Jennifer saw it too. She clasped my hand and they both closed in, leaning forward as if they were now discussing a terminal disease with a patient, which aggravated me. I could take the pain. I’d been through it already.

I said, “What do you want me to do? Why’d you tell me about the missing men? The Taskforce mission?”

“No reason, except we bought a new Rock Star bird. A Gulfstream 650. It has longer range, faster flight, and more storage than the G-Four you blew up. Knuckles is taking it to England on its maiden voyage. I want you to go with him.”

The Rock Star bird was a nickname we had for a Taskforce Gulfstream IV that was specially modified to infiltrate Taskforce equipment into a country. It was outfitted with everything from suppressed weapons to technical surveillance kit, all hidden in special compartments in the walls of the aircraft to defeat host nation immigration procedures. I’d used it on the last mission to detonate a nuclear bomb over the ocean—which hadn’t gone over too well, considering its cost.

He continued, “I want you to find my niece. Make sure she’s okay. I’ll pay for your flight up here today and pay for your per diem in country. Just tell me she’s okay.”

I saw the pain on his face and felt my own memories start to bubble. The loss. And the chance to prevent another one.

I said, “As a Taskforce member, doing secret shit?”

“No. As a friend of the family. Knuckles will be doing the secret stuff under a cellular telephone contract. You land and walk away. I’ve already talked to Knuckles, which is why I’m sending him to England. He can keep a secret. You can’t mention that I allowed you to use Taskforce assets. You get there, you can talk to anyone you want. Give them my number, my sister’s number, whatever. The only thing you’ll be doing with Knuckles is flying over with him.”

I was running the implications through my head, and he misinterpreted it as hesitation or aggravation at having to hide what I was doing. He said, “Pike, I’m sorry about the Oversight Council. I didn’t want that to happen, and you’re getting a raw deal, but I need you on this. I need you to do what you do best. Find her for me. Please. As a friend.”

Jennifer said, “Kurt, of course we’ll go.”

He leaned back and exhaled.

I said, “Sir, there was never a question about that. And don’t worry about the pay.”

He said, “I’m really scared. I’m afraid of what you’ll find.”

I grinned. “Focus on the circus going on back here. Kylie’s probably teaching the limeys to play beer pong. It’ll be a walk in the park.”

“And if she’s not?”

Jennifer said, “She is. Don’t think that way.”

Kurt kept his eyes on me, an unspoken question on his face, the pain just behind the eyes. He and I knew of a different world that could have touched Kylie. A place of evil that rarely knocked on the door of the average civilian. A place that was causing him nightmares. A place that had found me already. And he knew it.

I said, “Jennifer’s right. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go get her. I understand no backup. No official help. Doesn’t matter. If she’s in real trouble, they made a mistake in the target. Whoever took her will wish they’d taken the VP’s son instead.”

He squeezed my arm, glancing at Jennifer. “Pike, I know I have no right to ask you, but I don’t want just questions answered like the police have already given. I don’t want to hear ‘no clues.’ I cannot live with ‘we’ve done all we can.’”

He looked out the window and said, “She’s in a world of shit. I can feel it, and I can’t do anything about it with the crap going on around here. I can’t leave.” He returned to me, I swear with a touch of shame. “Will you do what’s necessary? Can you? After what happened with the Council? I need to know.”

I understood what he was asking, and I was a little surprised that he thought he had to. I knew he’d given me permission to go after the Russians, even if it wasn’t articulated, but this was on a whole different level. This wasn’t about national security. This was personal. Which in my internal code was much, much higher.

I locked eyes with him, feeling my daughter. Feeling a chance at redemption. I gave him the answer he wanted. “I’ll get her back. Trust me, there is no measure of the pain I will inflict to do so.”






10




Kylie waited for thirty minutes before speaking. When she was sure none of the kidnappers were still in the basement, she blew air, getting a gap in the hood, and said, “Nick? You still here?”

She heard nothing. She said again, a little louder, “Nick?”

She heard a shuffle, then, “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. My head’s a little woozy. I think I have a concussion. I keep going in and out.”

The words scared her. He was her only anchor.

“Nick . . . I don’t know what to do. They’re going to come back, and they’re going to find out the truth. I don’t know what to say.”

She heard a scuffling, then his voice much closer. “Kylie, they won’t. Just pretend like I said. The Secret Service prevented you from getting too involved. You don’t know how anything works, because you were kept away. I’m sorry I ever did this to you. I’ve never gotten involved with anyone for this very reason. I just . . . just couldn’t help myself with you. I’m sorry.”