Critical Doubt Page 25

  They stood in the middle of the room. She didn't want to sit down. She didn't plan on being there that long.

  She folded her arms in front of her chest. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

  "What's going on at Spear. I was with the CEO, Randy Jepsen, when the FBI called. I understand someone has stolen a shipment of weapons."

  "That's correct. It doesn't sound like you need to talk to me at all."

  "Are there suspects?"

  "Yes."

  "Well?"

  She debated whether or not she wanted to tell him more. She doubted Parisa had told the CEO of Spear about Todd's arrest. But she was more than a little curious to get her father's reaction. He knew Todd and Paul. In fact, he knew Ryker's entire team. He'd trained them. He'd helped Mason get the job at Spear. He was tied up in this in a lot of ways, which also concerned her. Was he looking for information that might help him protect himself?

  But he couldn't be involved. It wouldn't make sense.

  On the other hand, very little of this made sense.

  "Jepsen seems to think Mason might have sold us out," her father continued. "If he did, that's going to be on me, because I helped him get the job. I convinced Vance to take him on, to give him a chance."

  "Why does the CEO think Mason sold out the company?"

  "He's heavily involved with the details of our shipping program. And he's conveniently gone the day the shipment goes missing."

  "He's having surgery. That's not exactly convenient."

  "Are you saying he's not involved?"

  "No. Look, I really can't tell you anything."

  Anger ran through his eyes. "This is bigger than our relationship. I understand you blame me for everything that went wrong in your life, but this is about weapons going to the enemy, innocent lives being lost. This is about your country."

  "Don't lecture me about patriotism. I know exactly what this is about. I was a soldier, Dad. And now I'm an FBI agent. I am just as dedicated to protecting the innocent and serving justice as you are."

  He seemed taken aback by her response.

  "And I'm not petty enough to withhold information because you shipped me off to live with my aunt and uncle when I was thirteen years old."

  "It always comes back to that," he said heavily.

  "It does, doesn't it? Funny how something so simple as abandoning your daughter would keep coming up." As soon as she heard the bitterness in her voice, she got mad at herself. Why was she letting him rile her up? She was making a mockery of what she'd just told him about being professional.

  "I didn't abandon you. I thought you would be better off with Stephanie. You needed a woman in your life, and you got a sister, too."

  "But I lost my father. Look, we don’t need to talk about this. We don't need to talk about anything. I have moved on."

  "It doesn't sound like you have."

  She was shocked to see a small smile cross his lips. "You find this funny?"

  "Not funny. You just remind me of your mother. She was the only one who would call me on my bullshit. Everyone else was afraid of me."

  "You wanted everyone to be afraid of you."

  His smile faded. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I just didn't know how to be your father, Savannah. I'm not good with kids, especially girls. Your mom understood you. She knew what you needed. I didn't."

  "You didn't try."

  "You're right. I was devastated when your mother died. The bottom fell out of my world."

  "Mine, too."

  "I buried myself in work. I told myself I was doing my duty by you and that you were better off. But by the time I realized you weren't happy, you were so angry with me, and you were acting out every other second."

  "I wanted your attention. And when I was in trouble, you usually showed up. Until you didn't. And then I tried something else. I joined the army. I thought we could connect if I was a soldier, too. But that didn't work, either. You were angry with my choice."

  "Because I didn't want you to go to war. I wanted you to be safe. I knew I couldn't protect you once you joined up."

  "But you did try. That's why I got into Army Intelligence, why I got great posts every time I made a move. That was you working behind the scenes, wasn't it? I thought it was because you didn't trust me to be a good soldier."

  "It wasn't that. I couldn't stand the thought of something happening to you. I owed that to your mother." He paused. "I have to admit I was glad when you got out. But then you joined the FBI. Why can't you do something…normal?"

  "Because I'm not normal. Because, ironically, I'm a lot like you. I can't stand it, but it's true. I'm not like Mom. I'm not creative or nurturing. I can't bring plants back to life. I'm a terrible cook, but I am a good agent."

  He gave her a long look. "Do you think I have something to do with the missing shipment, Savannah? Is that why you don't want to talk to me?"

  She thought about his question. "I don't think you do, no. But this is an ongoing investigation. And you don't have a need to know."

  "Fair enough. Then I'll tell you why I really asked you here."

  Her stomach fluttered with his somber tone. "Go ahead."

  "I'm concerned that Bill may be involved, too."

  "Bill Vance? Why would you say that?"

  "Because I've known him for thirty years, and since his wife, Doris, died five years ago, he has changed. I've tried to ignore it, telling myself I'm imagining things. But I don't have a big imagination. I've always dealt in facts, and here are the facts. Bill quit the army after the mission that killed two members of Stone's team. After that, he seemed like a different person. He was angry. He was guilty. He was conflicted. I could see it, even if he wouldn't admit it. When Mason came to me asking for my help in getting a job at Spear, I thought Bill might feel better if he could help Mason get back on his feet."

  "Okay, but why do you think Colonel Vance is involved?" she asked, still not sure where he was going with their conversation.

  "Since Paul died, he's been cagey, and when I told him Todd was dead, too, he almost jumped out of his skin. He knew something I didn't; that was clear. Then we were informed about the possible intercept of a weapons shipment, and he started sweating like a pig. He was on his phone constantly. He kept disappearing into the bathroom. After the truck went missing, he suddenly had an appointment out of the office. He was so squirrely I knew something was going on, so I followed him."

  "You followed him?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, where did he go?"

  "The Ambassador Hotel. He met a man in the bar there, and it was not a man I wanted to see him with."

  "Who was it?"

  "His name is Rajeesh Buthanu. Mr. Buthanu is an arms dealer, and one who is believed to play all sides. He sells to whoever will pay the most money. I couldn't believe he was in the States or that he was meeting with Vance, right after a shipment of weapons went missing."

  "Did they see you?"

  "No. I've been trying to get a hold of Vance since then, but he's not answering my calls. I know he didn't go back to Spear, because I talked to his assistant. I went by his house, but there was no answer."

  "Then he's in the wind. Why didn't you just call the FBI and tell them what you told me?"

  "Well, here's the tricky part."

  She could see the answer in his eyes. "You want to try to save Vance."

  "Yes."

  She shook her head at his surprising optimism. "You want to save Vance, and Ryker wants to save his guys, but neither of you can do that. This has gone too far."

  "What do you mean Ryker wants to save his guys?"

  She frowned, realizing her mistake. "Never mind."

  "Mason is involved, too? Damn. Are he and Vance working together?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Come on, Savannah. Tell me what's happening. Maybe I can help."

  "All right, I'll tell you this much. Paul and Todd are not dead. They faked their deaths. And it looks like Ryker's former team
decided to steal the weapons to take care of the families they were leaving behind."

  Her father shook his head in amazement. "That is a crazy plan. You're telling me this team of Army Rangers, who I trained, stole the weapons?"

  "Yes. They claim they're going to sell them back to Spear."

  "I talked to Jepsen right before you came. There hasn't been a demand for payment."

  "It's probably coming. Or…maybe the demand is going directly to Vance, if he's involved." She paused as the truth hit her. "That's it. It's all starting to make sense."

  "Is it? What am I missing?"

  "Ryker said they always thought that someone in intelligence set them up for their last mission ending in ambush. Maybe Vance was the one who did that. Mason or someone else figured it out. Perhaps the team doesn't want just the money. They want to make Vance pay. But can he get the cash out of Spear without anyone else knowing? Does he have that much power within the company?"

  "He might not need to. His wife inherited a great deal of money right before she died, and then it went to Vance. He made three trips to the Cayman Islands in the past year."

  "He has an offshore account? We have to find him. Where would he be if he's not at home?"

  "He could be anywhere."

  "I need to call this in. I'm sorry, but I can't protect him. We need to track his phone, his car, and find his location. If he's going to buy the weapons, and he was meeting a shady arms dealer this morning, then I think the only way he makes his money back is to sell the shipment to the enemy."

  "Spear will take the hit, but not Vance," her father said grimly.

  "Exactly."

  "Do what you need to do. You're right. He's too far gone."

  As she reached into her bag, she saw a shadow by the window. Instead of grabbing her phone, she pulled out her gun, tipping her head toward the window.

  Her father immediately crossed the room, taking a gun out of the desk drawer.

  They might be overreacting, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up, and her gut told her that Vance might have realized that her father was onto him. Her dad waved her back toward the hallway bedroom. She took a few steps into the hall, but she was more than ready to cover him.

  The shadow shifted. And then the door blasted open. As a man in black burst into the room, her father jumped, bringing the butt of his gun down on the man's head.

  Savannah started forward, freezing when the front door flew open with a violent noise. A second gunman entered, and as he took aim at her father, she shot him. He fell back in stunned surprise, the weapon falling from his hand.

  She ran forward, grabbing his discarded gun, while her father disarmed the now unconscious man.

  "Nice shot," he said, joining her. "Right in the shoulder. Not life-threatening. "

  "We need him to talk." But the man wasn't talking. He was rolling around on the floor in pain. She hadn't seen either guy before, and she didn't know who they were attached to, but it was probably Vance.

  Her father positioned himself over the gunman while she called 911, requesting an ambulance. Her next call was to Parisa. She gave her a brief recap and then hung up, moving next to her dad. "Help is on the way."

  He looked at her, and for the first time she thought he actually saw her for who she was.

  "You didn't hesitate," he said, pride in his eyes. "Not for a second."

  "If I had, you might have been shot. But thanks for taking out the other guy."

  "This is very odd, Savannah."

  "It is. We're definitely never going to have a normal father and daughter relationship."

  "Probably not." A long pause followed, and then he added, "But I wouldn't mind talking to you more often."

  A wave of emotion ran through her at the words she'd wanted to hear for a very long time. "I wouldn't mind that, either."

  "Okay then."

  "Okay," she echoed. They still had a long way to go in their ability to communicate, but maybe this was a start.

  The ambulance arrived moments later, followed by Parisa and two other FBI agents as well as the local police, who had been alerted to the shooting by 911 calls from the neighbors.

  She made a short statement to the police, and then while her father was being interviewed, she told Parisa everything she had learned.

  "This is a new twist," Parisa said, a gleam in her brown eyes. "We need to find Colonel Vance. We also need to see if we can get anything out of that guy." She tipped her head toward the man who had regained consciousness, only to find himself in handcuffs.

  "I don't think these men know anything. They look like hired guns. They probably don't even know who hired them, but it had to be Vance. He must have realized my father had followed him to his meeting with Rajeesh Buthanu, and he decided to take him out."

  "That's a good assumption. We can put your father into a safe house until this is over."

  "I doubt he'll agree."

  "You should try to convince him." Parisa gave her a thoughtful look. "I know I should tell you to come into the office and talk to Paxton, but between you and me, I think he'll bench you and bury you in paperwork, and you don't want that."

  "I really don't."

  "I'll tell him you're staying with your father, until we can get him to a safe place, that your dad is shaken by the events that occurred here—even though he's not."

  "It takes a lot to rattle my father. I think staying away from the office is a good plan. I'd like to help you find Vance, but I can't be benched."

  "Understood. Don't worry. We'll pull out all the stops to find him."

  "Did Ryker come back to the office while I was gone?"

  "No. You never heard from him?"

  She looked back at her phone, realizing she had gotten a text. "Wait, I did." She read the text with a deepening frown and then repeated it aloud. "Need a little time, will get back to you. Don't worry." She looked at Parisa. "That's an awesome text. Men suck."

  Parisa smiled in commiseration. "At least you know he's all right."

  "And pushing me away. I've known all along it was coming. I just didn't think it would be so soon." She drew in a breath and pulled herself together. "Well, I can't worry about him now."

  "No, you can't. I'm going back to the office. Talk to your dad. Let me know what he wants to do. In the meantime, we're going to track down Colonel Vance and, hopefully, those stolen weapons."

  As Parisa left, she debated for a moment and then sent Ryker another text: New developments. Call me. It's important.

  Then she put down her phone and joined her father. He'd finished making his statement, so they stepped onto the back patio while the investigators went through the crime scene.

  "We'd like to put you in a safe house," she said.

  "I can take care of myself. Didn't I just prove that?"

  "Vance may not stop with this attack."

  "I suspect he'll be occupied with more pressing matters than trying to take me out. Once he realizes this failed, he'll disappear. He has a lot of money and connections all over the world. You need to find him before he leaves the States."

  As her father spoke so pragmatically and coldly, she couldn't help but wonder what he was really feeling. "This must be difficult for you. Colonel Vance was one of your best friends."

  His expression hardened. "I obviously did not know him as well as I thought I did. He wasn't worth saving. I don't care what happens to him now."

  She believed him. Her father certainly had the ability to cut someone from his life and move on, but despite his words she had to believe that Vance's betrayal had hurt him. Not that he'd accept her sympathy. Or that he'd even want to acknowledge that emotion in front of her. So, she changed the subject. "If you won't do a safe house, maybe you should go back to Fort Benning."

  "I might do that," he conceded. "By the way, you never told me how Paul and Todd faked their deaths. They had to have had help."

  "They did, and you're not going to like my answer."

 
Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ryker heard his phone buzz, and he suspected it was Savannah again. She was probably pissed that he'd bailed on her, but after his meeting with Todd, and an irritating run-in with Agent Paxton, he'd needed to get out of the FBI office. Once he'd left the building, he'd just kept walking. He'd finally found his way back to his truck and after searching for an explosive device, he had found the courage to open the door and turn on the engine. Thankfully, nothing had happened, and he had been more than happy to get behind the wheel. He'd needed to exert some control over his life and that was the first step.

  Then he'd driven to Mason's townhouse and had found getting inside surprisingly easy. For a smart man, who was probably involved in weapons smuggling, Mason had taken very few precautions with his personal living situation. Ryker had been able to guess the code in less than ten minutes. Of course, that was also because he knew the six lottery numbers that Mason had played repetitively for the seven years they'd served together.

  As he stepped into the entry, he paused to listen for a moment. According to the FBI, Mason was in surgery, so there shouldn't be anyone in the house. He was a little surprised the FBI wasn't here yet, but when he'd left the building, they'd been talking about getting a search warrant. Hopefully, that would take a little more time, and he could complete the search on his own.

  With his weapon in his hand, he made his way through the two-story, two-bedroom home, noting the cleanliness of every room, and the neat organization of the shelves in both the living room and the kitchen. Some adjustments had been made to the house to accommodate Mason's injuries. The doors allowed for a wheelchair. The bathroom shower had been modified. And the lower shelves in the kitchen were all filled while the upper ones were empty. He knew that Mason was a renter, not an owner, but for a man who allegedly had financial problems, Mason was living quite well.

  As he wandered around the house, he found little in the way of personal items. Mason had no photos on the walls, no reminders of his past life in the army. The bills on the desk in the living room were all from medical providers and the usual array of utility companies.