The Escape (John Puller, #3)(110)

“Whoa. You need rest. And you need time to heal.”

“I don’t have time to do either. That can wait.”

“No, it can’t wait.”

She tried to get up and he pushed her back down. On the third time she said, “Damn it, John Puller, if I had a gun I’d shoot your ass.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have a gun, then.”

She stopped struggling, lay back, and let out a long, resigned sigh. “Okay, so when can I get the hell out of here?”

“I’ll check with the docs, but probably within twenty-four hours. And after that, bed rest.”

“Shit!”

“It is what it is, Knox.”

“And what are you going to do in the meantime?”

“Follow up on all this.”

“Without me?” she said, stunned by this prospect.

“I will keep you informed of everything, I promise.”

“And you won’t get killed?” She said this in a joking manner, but there was no humor in her look. “I almost bought it, Puller. One more step, one more second, no soft pillows at the end of the runway, I’m not here.”

“I know that.”

“No, maybe you don’t know that.” She reached up and gathered a fistful of his shirt. “Don’t die. Just… don’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

She slowly let his shirt go and sank back, breathless.

“I’ll check in later.”

“Yep,” she said, not looking at him.

Puller walked out. He had told Knox everything he knew. Now he had to tell someone else.

His brother.

No code.

Face-to-face.





CHAPTER





55



HE DID END up sending a coded message first, to advise his brother that he wanted to meet. Then he did what he had done before. Drove to Quantico, swapped cars and left via another exit. He drove the rural roads, doubling back and then doubling back again before setting off for his actual destination. His brother’s pickup truck was parked in front of the same motel room door.

He knocked. He saw the swish of curtains and put his hand on the butt of his M11. He said, “Bobby?” And his brother answered, “The coast is clear, Junior.”

Déjà vu.

Puller closed the door behind him, crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of the bed. His brother was on the chair he’d occupied at their last meeting.

“Heard the news?” asked Puller.

Robert nodded. “It’s all over the place. Carter’s dead.”

“And two other guys.”

“Media said a bomb.”

“Media is right. My partner Knox was there. She saw it all. She tried to prevent it. Almost got killed.”

“What exactly did she see?”

Puller gazed sternly at his brother. “I said she almost got killed, Bobby. She’s in a hospital bed right now. She wanted to climb out of it, get back to work on this thing. To help try to clear you.”

It seemed to be an unfortunate quirk of his brother’s genius that he did not always grasp the personal side of the equation.

Robert looked thoroughly taken aback. “I’m sorry, John, how is she?”

“She’ll be okay.” He went on to tell his brother what Knox had observed.

“They moved fast, then,” said Robert. “And they had operatives who could get it done on short notice.”

“How do you know this hasn’t been planned for a long time?”

“You met with the man this morning and he’s dead by the early evening.”

“Could be unconnected.”

“We have to deal in probabilities, John. And the clear probability is that the connection is there. A plus B equals C.”

“But when we met with Carter and his sidekick, it was clear that they thought Reynolds was completely innocent. The matter was over and done in their mind.”

“I read your notes on the conversation. They might have said that, but I don’t think they believed it.”

“Based on what?”

“For one they played their hand too strong, John. The head of DTRA is not going to meet with you directly the morning after you had a nightcap with him. He is not going to bring in his chief internal security officer. I happen to know Blair Sullivan. He’s worked all over STRATCOM. If the guy said more than two words to you, or became emotional in any way, it was an act. That’s not what he does. He could see a piano falling toward his head while he was at an outdoor café having lunch and he’d just move to the right and finish his sandwich.”

“But why an act? Why try to deceive us? If they believed what we told them then I don’t get it.”

“Just the act of believing does not mean they wanted to necessarily collaborate with you on this. You’re not one of them. DTRA is a critical agency to this country. They would never want it to appear that they could not appropriately control their employees. And if they have a spy in their midst, that would be dirty laundry that they would most assuredly not air in public.”

“So what would they do?”

“Clean it up from the inside. That’s why Sullivan was there.”