Ruthless: Book 2 of the Shattered Chronicles Page 9

  Stork was a little taken off guard by the way she openly challenged him but decided to play it straight with her. "All right, Dr. Windwalker. Let me explain. The FBI has the lead on all intelligence matters in the US, particularly those directed against US citizens. However, the CIA and FBI work together as needed to protect the interests of national security. We, the CIA, do not collect information concerning the domestic activities of US citizens, but our foreign intelligence collection mission can be conducted anywhere.”

  “Thank you, but that only prompts more questions.”

  “Such as?”

  “If you don’t collect information concerning the domestic activities of US citizens, such as me and my husband, then what exactly are you doing? How do we fit into foreign intelligence collection missions?”

  “You have a good memory, Dr. Windwalker. Let me spell it out for you. First, we have a large sum of money deposited into an offshore account in your husband's name in January.

  "In March, the agency received a tip through Interpol that Juan Ramirez, your husband's business partner, has possible connections to a terrorist group. Our investigation turned up nothing concrete, but we decided to bring Mr. Ramirez in for questioning. He conveniently disappeared without a trace. At the same time, another sizable sum was deposited into your husband's account.

  "No more than forty–eight hours later, Tom McGuire informs the Secretary of Energy that three shipments of radioactive waste are missing from the Andrews, Texas location. This, according to test data, has been confirmed. The waste has somehow been removed.

  "Yesterday, your husband made an unexpected trip to Andrews. He’s the one person with the knowledge, access, and expertise to explain how or why all of this could have happened.

  "You must admit, Mrs. Alexander that all the evidence seems to point to only one conclusion.” Stork sat back and crossed his arms across his chest.

  "Oh?” She leaned forward. "And what might that be?"

  "That your husband is responsible for the missing waste. Using his access and knowledge, he somehow devised a way to get the waste out of the facility without detection and is now selling that material off to the highest bidder, most likely to terrorists."

  "Are you out of your mind?” Morgan jumped to her feet and slammed her clenched fists down on the desk so hard that coffee sloshed everywhere. "You can't be serious? Cord would never do anything like that!"

  Andrews County, Texas

  At precisely three minutes after two, the huge tracking satellite took its reading. Thirty minutes later another reading was taken.

  Cord watched intently as the first data came in. Trevor sat beside him and finally broke the silence. "Well? What does it mean, Dad?"

  Cord tried to explain as clearly and simply as possible. "Each satellite has a limited range of vision, commonly referred to as a footprint. Its range depends on where the satellite is parked in orbit around the earth. So− “He drew a line on the printout on the desk and then a circle on the left side. "This is the area that’s in the satellite's field of vision."

  He put the end of the pencil down on the right side of the line. "If you stand here – outside that field of vision, it can't see you. Understand?"

  Trevor nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I got it. So, you sent Big Jeff and the guys out with those signaling devices to find out where the tracking satellite's footprint is, right?"

  Cord nodded. "Exactly. My theory is that whoever stole the waste somehow figured out where the footprints are and maneuvered around them."

  "Yeah, but don't they overlap?"

  "In some areas, yes, but not everywhere. There are holes. And if you know where the holes are, you know how to stay hidden."

  "Okay." Trevor sat back in his chair and scratched the back of his neck. "But how did they find out? Isn't that kind of information top secret or something?"

  Without realizing it, Cord performed the same motion his son had moments earlier. Leaning back in his chair, he scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know how they found out." At least I hope I don’t. His thoughts turned to Juan.

  Trevor sat up straight in his seat as if he had been stuck in the rear with something sharp. "Hell, Pop! Did you ever stop to consider that the FBI might suspect you?"

  Cord felt a cold shiver run down his spine at Trevor's words. Knowing how Tom was and how the government liked scapegoats, he felt a knot form in his stomach. But he pushed the thoughts back and concentrated on the data that had already come in.

  "Have you called Mom?” Trevor broke the silence again after a few minutes.

  "No." Cord briefly glanced in his direction. “I tried yesterday, but I haven't had a chance today."

  "Don't you think we should?" Trevor asked pointedly.

  "You’ve got a cell phone and she’s your mother." Cord pointed out. “Have at it.”

  Cotton Creek, Texas

  By the time Stork and his men left, Morgan felt like she'd been thrust into a waking nightmare. It just keeps getting worse by the moment. She thought as she tried to put her office back into order.

  She was in a state of shock over what Stork had told her about Cord. "They’re wrong.” She talked to herself as she put the last of the files away. "Cord would never do something like that! Never!"

  Yet even as she said it, that small negative part of her mind cut in, Yeah, and he'd never walk out on you either, would he?

  Morgan was furious with herself for allowing any doubt to come into her mind about Cord's innocence. The two events are completely unrelated. His leaving has nothing whatsoever to do with that damn waste being missing!

  She stormed around the office, picking up loose pages that had fallen from files and talking to herself the entire time. "How can you have any doubts at all? You know Cord is the most honest person you’ve ever known!"

  She really did believe in his honesty. She’d trusted him completely for years. Besides Cord there was no one else she put her trust in, "Except Joe," she corrected herself. "I trusted Joe and Myrtle, too."

  That little voice popped back in her head. And look where all that trust got you. Left behind, all alone.

  Morgan crammed the loose papers into a desk drawer and slammed it shut. What the hell is wrong with me? She was disgusted with herself and that aggravating little voice. Picking up her phone and keys, she headed for the door. She just wanted to get out of there, go home, and think.

  As she drove home, all the things Stork said played over in her mind, along with her conversation with Cord in the restaurant when he told her he didn't want her to go with him.

  Scenes from the encounter with Cassie in the woods mixed with scenes from the video of Cassie and Cord. Then the things Victor told her jumped into the fray

  Morgan felt like her head was going to explode. She had to talk to Cord, to find out what was going on. Regardless of how uncomfortable it would be, she was going to call. If Cassie answered again, she'd just ask to speak to Cord like everything was fine.

  She was calling on her cell phone before she entered the house. She was put through to Cord's room and the phone rang for several minutes before the switchboard cut in and asked if she wanted to leave a message. She left her name and a message for Cord or Trevor to call, then hung up and headed for the shower.

  Odessa, Texas

  "What the hell's going on?” Samuels found Smith waiting for him when he disembarked the private jet.

  "We're not sure." Smith ushered Samuels down a hallway that led to an outside exit. "We think it might be some kind of protest."

  "Is the media involved?" Samuels asked as Smith opened the door for him.

  "They weren't until now.” Smith had to yell to be heard over the noise of the commercial aircraft engines that blasted their ears.

  "Where are we going?” Samuels shouted to him as they walked across the pavement, passing an outbound flight that was preparing to taxi toward the runway.

  Smith pointed up as he headed for the waiting helicopter.

  ***
**

  Cord watched as Trevor sat impatiently waiting for his mother to answer the phone. Finally, he hung up and slumped back in his chair. "No answer. Wonder where she is?"

  Cord looked down at his watch. "Work maybe, or Joe's. Don't worry; we'll get up with her sooner or later."

  Trevor crossed his arms and settled in to wait for the satellite readings. He was already bored. He wanted to be doing something besides just sitting there twiddling his thumbs, but he didn't want to disappoint his Dad, so he tried to act cool. Leaning back, he closed his eyes like he was just chilling out.

  Cord watched his son and smiled. He understood Trevor's impatience all too well. He was feeling the same thing himself. Guess Morgan's right. We are more alike than I realized.

  With nothing to do but wait, Cord settled back in his chair and let his mind wander back in time.

  He was sitting at his desk that day. Trevor came in, hopping around like an excited puppy, hardly able to contain himself.

  Cord held up one hand, keeping him at bay until he finished writing down his final thought. With a smile, he leaned back in his chair and gave Trevor his undivided attention.

  "What's up?"

  "Big Jeff and I want to go on a bike trip across country.” Trevor spoke so fast the words blurred together as he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  Cord almost laughed at the sight. He looked like a puppet dancing out of control at the hands of some invisible master. Out of the blue a memory intruded.

  Cord was in the fourth grade. One day they had a substitute teacher. Big Jeff was sitting in the back of the room, as he always did, slumped in his chair. For some reason that Cord couldn't recall, the teacher was called out of the room. Before leaving, she appointed Jeff to be the classroom monitor. Cord could still remember the looks on all the student's faces when she named Jeff. He’d never been called to do anything except stay after school.

  As Jeff rose from his seat, a hush fell over the room. Not too many people liked Jeff. He was big for his age and he wore the same old clothes every day. What they didn't understand was that Jeff came from a poor family. His father stayed drunk most of the time and his mother did the best she could, taking in laundry and cleaning people's houses to make ends meet.

  Cord liked Jeff. He had a big heart and was the most loyal and trusting person Cord had known in all his young life. Jeff walked to the front of the room, propped one foot up on the teacher's chair, looked out over his newly appointed charges and announced, "I'm taking names and kicking ass!"

  "Can I go?" Trevor interrupted the grade school memory.

  Cord smiled. Trevor reminded him of himself not so many years ago. "We'll see what your Mom has to say." He knew it was going to take both to convince Morgan.

  A look of disappointment crossed Trevor's face and, Cord added. "Big Jeff's pretty wide open. Think you can handle it?"

  Trevor smiled with assurance and looked his Dad square in the eye. "We'll be taking names and kicking ass!"

  Cord broke out into a big laugh thinking, yeah, you'll have the time of your life.

  "Hey, Dad, what's so funny?” Trevor's voice brought him back to the present.

  Cord reached out and slapped him on the knee. "Just thinking about old times."

  Cotton Creek, Texas

  Morgan slammed down the phone. Things were completely out of control. Between calls from her clients, ranch vendors and employees, coupled with calls from Alexander Enterprises, wanting to know why the government was seizing their records, she was at her wits end. If she’d had an answer, she would have given it to everyone who called. The problem was, she didn’t.

  The things Roger Stork told her were unbelievable. As unbelievable as Cord running out on you? The nasty little voice inside her mind piped up.

  The last thing she wanted was to pay heed to that voice or the government. She’d known Cord for over twenty years. He wasn’t the kind of man who would do the things he was being accused of. Surely, she would’ve seen evidence of such propensity in all the time she’d known him

  Then again, a week ago she would’ve bet her life that Cord would never cheat on her and keep it from her

  What was happening to her nice secure little world where problems were things that could be corrected?

  The phone rang again. She started to answer then changed her mind. The energy to face another barrage of questions just wasn’t available. For a moment, she stared at the phone. Chances were that it would ring again – and again.

  The prospect of dealing with more calls and more questions prompted a spur of the moment decision. She grabbed her purse and headed out of the house

  Odessa, Texas

  Samuels looked at the town below. The helicopter circled above, lending them a bird's eye view of the throng below. "Looks like there's at least a thousand," he said to Smith. "What do you think's going on?"

  Smith shrugged. "Like I said, could be some sort of protest or bike rally or something, but if that's the case, then I don't see where the truckers fit in."

  Samuels nodded as he looked down again. Every street in the town was at a standstill. Trucks were parked in the intersections, blocking every entrance and exit. For what looked like several miles, all he could see was trucks, bikes, and people.

  "What are we supposed to do with this mess?” He turned back to Smith.

  "Nothing. The governor is calling in the National Guard to handle it. So far, there's been no real trouble. Looks like just a big party. They've about cleaned out all the food and beer from the town. Or not. Look down there to the right."

  Samuels looked in the direction Smith was pointing. Two beer trucks sat among the assembly, the drivers pulling case after case of beer from within the trucks.

  "Looks like they found another beer supply," he commented.

  "Well, we're not here to do anything but find out where the hell Alexander is and what he's up to.” Smith indicated to the pilot to find a place to land.

  Andrews, Texas

  Cord didn't need to see the last reading to know what he already suspected, but the reading confirmed it. The hole in the satellite footprint was there.

  "Time to go.” Cord stood, gathered his maps and charts, and shut down the uplink to the surveillance system. With his arms full, he headed for the door.

  "Where are we going?" Trevor asked, one-step behind him.

  "To meet Big Jeff.”

  Trevor followed him silently out of the door. Cord was completely uncommunicative once they were in the car. His brow wrinkled in consternation as they approached the main highway. "Must be a bad accident.”

  Trevor craned his neck out the window to see what was going on. The highway was packed with eighteen–wheelers as far as he could see. Both lanes were solid, one truck after another. The road into town was blocked.

  "I hope it's not Big Jeff.”

  "No.” Cord said, trying to see if there were any breaks at all in the line of vehicles. "He'd be coming from the other way."

  Cord pulled off the side of the road and folded his arms, waiting. Trevor fidgeted in his seat.

  "Don't you think we should do something?” He finally asked.

  "We are doing something.”

  "Yeah? What?"

  "Waiting.” Cord answered with a smile. "Just be patient."

  Trevor leaned against the door. Ten long minutes passed as they sat in silence until he spoke again. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

  "That," Cord said. The thunder of motorcycles suddenly filled the air. Riding down the wrong side of the highway, along the shoulder, Big Jeff appeared leading his troupe of men like an army general returning victorious after a battle.

  Cord and Trevor got out of the car as the bikers surrounded it and stopped their engines. At Cord's directions, Trevor gathered the instruments from each of the bikers and put them in the trunk of the car.

  Cord walked off a short distance away with Big Jeff, out of earshot of the other bikers and Trevor.

&nb
sp; "Well," Jeff asked, "did you get what you needed?”

  "Yeah," Cord slapped Jeff fondly on the shoulder. "You guys did a great job. Be sure and get everybody's name and address for me, will you?"

  "Sure," Jeff agreed immediately. "Why?"

  "I want to send them a thank–you card or something," Cord answered with a smile.

  Big Jeff roared with laughter at the thought. "Yeah, sure," he said between guffaws. "They'll love that!"

  He cut a look back at the men clustered around Cord's car. "They don't expect nonthin', man. Hell, we was only doing what we came out here to do anyway."

  Cord continued to walk away from the car, stopping when they reached the first rise. He looked down the hill at the seemingly unending line of trucks then turned to Jeff. "This your doing?"

  Big Jeff grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah. Great ain't it?"

  Cord just smiled and shook his head. Turning to look west, he reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "I think they've got the stuff just across the border, in New Mexico."

  "Well let's go, hoss!”

  "No," Cord held out his hand. "If you go with me then Trevor will want to go, and I promised Morgan that I wouldn't let anything happen to him. I can't break my promise."

  "Hey, man," Jeff held up both beefy hands. "Say no more. I know your little woman and I wouldn't want her after my big ass either. But you may need me with you, boss."

  "No. It's better if I go alone. If the stuff is there, it’ll be guarded, and they'll hear you coming a mile away. Just keep an eye on my son. I can take it from here."

  "You're the boss," Jeff agreed reluctantly. "But you know where I'll be if you need me."

  "Yeah." Cord turned and headed back in the direction they had come, "I do, thanks."

  Rockridge, Texas

  Victor stalked into the study swiftly and turned on Juro the instant he closed the door. "What is so important?”

  "Cassandra," Juro stated flatly. "She is considering betrayal."

  Victor's eyes narrowed as he stared down at Juro. He had long ago learned to listen carefully to what the man said. His words were few and rarely unimportant. In addition, his ability to read people and situations had proven valuable to Victor many times.