The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(85)

Concerned, Jack had chased the guy, finally catching up to the man in the deep woods, a mile or so along. As Jack got close, he yelled for the man to stop, and the fellow had tossed Heather down, then turned to attack Jack. It was the Rag Man.

Only Jack’s old army training had saved him, although he had taken a nasty cut on his arm. In the end, the Rag Man had run off, disappearing into the darkness. Jack had rushed Heather here as fast as he could.

As he finished the tale, Anna McFarland threw her arms around Jack, hugging him hard enough that it threatened to break open his stitches.

“Oh, Jack. Thank you so much for saving our little girl.” She kissed him firmly on the cheek, her tears leaving a wet saltiness that dripped into the corner of Jack’s mouth.

As she released him, Gil McFarland stepped in and gave him another bear hug.

Then the doctor interrupted. “Mr. and Mrs. McFarland, you can see your daughter now.”

With one more grateful glance at Jack, the McFarlands turned and disappeared down the hall after the doctor.

The policeman cleared his throat. “Now, Mr. Johnson. If you don’t mind sitting back down, let’s go through all this from the beginning, for my report. Then, if you don’t mind, I would like to have a look through your car.”

“Certainly, officer.”

Jack took a deep breath and began the story from the beginning, pausing to answer questions and to let the officer scribble notes onto the forms on his clipboard. It was going to be a very long night.





Chapter 64





Here, well away from the dim light leaking from the cave, the moonlit semidarkness enfolded Mark, like the shimmering spectral shroud of a wraith. In the void left by Jack’s departure, the silence of the night was complete. No wind, no chittering insects, no bird noises, nothing. It was as if all life in the vicinity sensed the presence of a hunter and remained frozen, hoping that through absolute stillness, a state of safe anonymity could be achieved.

The silence of the night grew so loud it practically screamed at Mark. “Be still. Let that one go on his way. Do not draw his attention.”

Thoughts raced through Mark’s mind in a torrent. Heather was alive. Jack’s actions, the gentle way in which he wrapped her carefully in his shirt and picked her up, reassured Mark. Jack had saved her from the Rag Man. Jack would get her to the hospital.

Mark glanced back toward the cave and shuddered. The violence in Jack had shocked Mark to his core. Not that he cared that Jack had killed the Rag Man. Mark had come here to do that himself. But the way Jack had been able to overcome the incredible speed and strength the Rag Man had displayed. So efficient. So calm. So incredibly deadly. Undoubtedly Jack was a professional killer, but for whom? And why was he interested in the McFarland and Smythe families?

The answers that came into his mind raised the hair on the back of his neck. If Jack was the kind of person the NSA had sent in response to their message, then they were neck-deep in shit.

One thing was for sure: Mark needed to get back home before his parents were notified of Heather’s trauma and discovered him missing and Jennifer panicked.

Jennifer. Shit. She was probably near a nervous breakdown by now.

Having made up his mind, Mark turned away from the path taken by Jack, heading directly back toward his house along the way he had come, his powerful stride propelling him forward at a ground-burning run.

He made his way through the front door so silently that Jennifer didn’t hear him, although he knew she was listening for his return. Not wanting to scare her to death, he paused outside the door to her bedroom, which remained open a fraction of an inch.

His voice, barely a whisper, called out to her. “Jen, it’s me.”

The door whisked open, and a small hand grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Tell me!” Jennifer’s face was drawn, her eyes red.

“Heather is going to be okay.”

“Going to be? Is she hurt badly? What happened? Where is she?”

“It’s all right. I think she just passed out. Anyway, Jack Johnson took her to the hospital.” Mark was guessing this part, but it seemed a very likely guess.

Jennifer looked confused. “Jack Johnson? From the McFarlands?”

“Right. I ran as fast as I could. When I got close, it turned out to be a cave. Not our cave. Just a cave. The Rag Man had her chained to a wall.”

“Oh my God!”

“I was about to rush him when Jack charged in, pointing a gun at the Rag Man.”

Mark continued on, working his way through the whole story, pausing many times to answer Jennifer’s questions. Although he covered all the important parts, Mark left out the details of exactly how Jack had killed the Rag Man, only telling her that he had killed the maniac with a knife.

“Are you sure he is dead?”

“They don’t get any deader. Jack made sure of that.”

“But how? Jack against the Rag Man?”

“Believe me, Jack Johnson, or whatever his real name is, is no EPA man. From what I saw, he’s a professional killer, an agent for somebody. I’m thinking NSA, although he could be working for Stephenson and therefore the Rho Ship.”

“But he saved Heather.”

Mark paused, reflecting on how gently Jack covered Heather with his own shirt. “Yes, he did.”