The officer glanced up from Jack’s license. “You don’t think this is important?”
“Of course I do. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“How did you mean it?”
Jack swallowed hard. He could feel the incident escalating. “I just meant that I know you guys are busy protecting us, and I’m sorry I’ve taken up your time.”
“Are you all right, Mr. Jensen?” the cop asked pointedly. “You seem nervous.”
Jack glanced at the trees. That thumping inside the SUV sounded like thunder. “I’m fine.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said loudly. “No,” he repeated less intensely when the cop gave him another suspicious look.
“Go sit in your vehicle while I do a little more work.”
“Sir, I—”
“Wait a minute,” the cop said, turning back around. He’d been heading to his car. “Your name’s Jack Jensen.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you related to Bill Jensen?”
“He’s my father.”
The officer shook his head sadly. “We’ve been trying hard to find him, son. He’s a good man. He’s helped out our barracks a lot over the years.” He handed Jack the information back. “Don’t use your phone while you’re driving from now on. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. I hope that all works out for the best.”
“Thank you.”
Jack turned, climbed into the cab, and let out a sigh of relief. Bill was missing, but he’d still managed to save the day.
“You missed your chance,” Jack called over his shoulder as he started up the SUV and the cop moved past. “Making all that noise wasn’t very smart.” He wanted to make sure there was no more noise for the rest of the trip. “Do it again, and things will go even worse for you. My brother wasn’t kidding about using any and all means necessary.”
Jack started to hit the gas, then hesitated and sank back into the seat. He had to calm down first. His hands were shaking too hard to drive.
“What do you want, Commander McCoy?” Baxter asked. He nodded in the direction of President Dorn, who was sitting in a wingback chair on the other side of the fireplace. “Why did you ask for this meeting?”
“I’ve done some back-channel 411, Mr. Baxter. I’ve got some things I want to talk about.”
“I thought we settled this,” Baxter said angrily. “I thought we’d covered everything because you—”
“What are your issues, Skylar?” Dorn interrupted calmly. “I want to make certain you are one hundred percent comfortable as to the efficacy and honor of what I’ve asked of you. I need your talents. I need your protection, Skylar. You can only give me that if you’re completely satisfied that it’s the right thing to do.” He hesitated. “You’re not a soldier of fortune, no mercenary here. You must be passionate about your cause, my cause. I sense that about you, Skylar. I did, right from the start.” He smiled. “Well, right after you snuck up on me.”
So they were going with the good cop — bad cop thing, Skylar realized. Baxter’s twisted expression had him looking like he was crapping razor blades. Dorn looked serene, and he’d just used her first name three times in fifteen seconds. Well, all right. Game on.
“Are you certain we have privacy in here, Mr. President?” she asked. “I don’t want anyone hearing this who shouldn’t.”
“We’re fine,” Dorn answered, without deferring to Baxter, who would have been the more appropriate one to answer that question.
For a few seconds she focused on regulating her breathing, as she would just before a kill, to calm herself. She’d met some sports stars and even a few famous rockers, and she hadn’t gotten nervous around them. But this was the president of the United States. This was her commander in chief.
“You’ve asked me to eliminate Bill Jensen, Troy Jensen, Jack Jensen, and Shane Maddux as soon as possible.”
“Correct,” Baxter agreed, “as well as the rest of Red Cell Seven. You are to put a team together, and you are to wage war on the entire cell.”
“And remember,” Dorn added, “you aren’t supposed to know that Red Cell Seven exists. Anyone who helps you cannot know about the unit. You’ll have to make up some kind of cover story for the mission that doesn’t involve RC7.”
“Understood.”
“Are you sure, Commander?” Baxter asked. “Are you sure you understand that? I feel like I have to make absolutely certain of that now.”
Skylar flashed Baxter an irritated look, but didn’t go back at him. “Bill Jensen’s been missing for nine months,” she said. “I’ve checked around, and he’s legitimately off the grid.”
“So?”
“Depending on whether he’s already dead,” Skylar went on, “he is or was a pillar of society. He was CEO of First Manhattan for many years and served on the boards of several high-profile charitable organizations, in addition to giving a great deal of money to them.” She paused. “Troy Jensen’s the all-American guy with a Dartmouth diploma and some pretty incredible accomplishments all around the world to his credit. The Seven Summits, circumnavigating the globe by himself, and on and on. Jack’s Wall Street, but there’s nothing really wrong with him.” Her eyes glistened. “Now, I took the liberty of calling some close associates who live in some pretty black sectors of U.S. intel, and Shane Maddux might be—”
“What are you driving at?” Baxter demanded.
“They all seem like good people. All except Maddux, and that’s kind of understandable, given who he is and what he does.”
“They tried to kill me last fall,” Dorn said solemnly. “They had a sniper shoot at me on that stage in Los Angeles. They were all involved in that, from Maddux to Bill Jensen.”
“I know about the assassination attempt,” Skylar replied deliberately. “The whole world knows about it.”
“Of course,” Dorn agreed self-consciously, looking down.
“Based on what I now know,” Skylar continued, “I could come to the conclusion that Shane Maddux was involved in that assassination, Mr. President. But I’m having a very hard time convincing myself that the Jensens—”
“Troy Jensen killed your sister Bianca,” Baxter interrupted, “on orders from his direct superior, Shane Maddux, and Troy’s father, Bill.”
The room blurred before Skylar as soon as Baxter said it. “What?” she whispered.
“It was made to look like an accident,” Baxter went on, “like Bianca’s boyfriend was responsible. But Troy Jensen killed Bianca. Make no mistake about that, Commander. Troy Jensen is responsible for your sister’s death, not her boyfriend.”
Skylar couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so thoroughly knocked off her game. It wasn’t as if she was just vulnerable at this moment. She was completely defenseless, physically and mentally paralyzed as she processed Baxter’s shocking assertion.
“Why?” she murmured.
The image of Bianca’s boyfriend falling from the ledge in Denali was suddenly haunting her. He’d been staring back up at her in horror as he held on to the ledge by his fingertips, realizing his life could now be measured in seconds.
She shook her head. This couldn’t be right. She’d seen the police report. Bianca’s boyfriend had been drunk. He’d run off the road into a grove of trees, and she’d been killed on impact. No seat belt, and she’d flown through the windshield, shredding her beautiful face and her life forever.
“They were trying to smoke your father out,” Baxter continued. “They made it clear they were going to make him regret it if he didn’t come out of hiding and give himself up. When he didn’t, they murdered your sister.”