They would stay here in Harpers Ferry through the night before, then “break camp” at six a.m. on the morning of OA, heading to Washington together en masse in a bus he’d rented from an outfit in Charles Town, West Virginia. When they got to DC, they’d split up for good, turning into lone wolves again.
They’d abandon the bus there — which, he mused, would probably go on display at some point at the Smithsonian as a memorial to the terrible tragedy. After authorities had pieced everything together and realized that the vehicle had transported all twenty-five assassins to the city.
Every channel in the world would be reporting this story. It would be the biggest of the century — maybe ever.
Sterling stood at the window of his room at the inn and stared into the darkness toward the Potomac River, which flowed quietly and invisibly past him at the bottom of the steep hill. He’d just dropped that red herring of a bomb on the White House about the swap of political prisoners for Shannon, which, of course, was total bullshit. There would be no swap. The demand about releasing political prisoners was simply a ruse to make President Dorn believe it was a normal situation. Without a quid pro quo on the table, Dorn might become suspicious.
Jennie Perez sprinted through the darkness of the Midtown Manhattan parking garage. The money she was supposed to be getting for committing her horrible deeds hadn’t hit her account yet. And maybe it never would, she realized. Maybe she’d been a fool to believe them.
Of course, money had never been her primary motivation in all this. She felt bad for Karen and Little Jack, but Troy had to pay for cheating on her. And for killing Lisa Martinez. Bill Jensen had sworn to her over and over that Troy wasn’t responsible for Lisa’s death. Troy had, too, many times as well. But Jennie didn’t believe them anymore. How could she believe anything that family claimed?
She’d seen the graphic pictures of Troy and a dark-haired woman entwined in each other’s bodies. The man who’d promised to pay her for her treason had shown her so many terrible photos and told her the infidelity had taken place six weeks ago, when Troy was on a mission in Spain. She’d checked her date book, and, sure enough, Troy had gone radio silent during the exact three days the man claimed Troy had been with the woman.
The weird thing for Jennie was that she couldn’t stop looking at the pictures. She kept taking each one the man handed to her and kept staring and staring as her tears flowed. Then she’d taken the next one, which was even more graphic than the last. It had been horrible, but she couldn’t stop. She’d sobbed and sobbed, and her decision was made.
Jennie began to run for her car. She would take the Holland Tunnel out of the city and lose herself somewhere in this big country. She didn’t care anymore if they paid her. Maybe it would be better if they didn’t, now that she really thought about it. She couldn’t stop thinking about what Karen and L.J. were going through. And if the money never came, she could convince herself that it had all been about passion and nothing else.
She screamed as a dark figure stepped out from behind an Escalade. She whirled around and sprinted the other way.
Right into the strong arms of another dark figure.
“Where’s the goddamn plane? I’ve got the handicapped bitch and the little brat in the van with me, and I’m getting nervous.”
“Settle down.”
“Don’t tell me to settle down. I’ve probably got a million cops looking for me at this point. I’ll never see the light of day again if I get caught with them.”
“The cops have no idea yet. We’re monitoring the situation very closely.”
“Well, what’s the deal? I’m tired of sitting here in this parking lot. You never know who’s gonna come along and roust me.”
“The plane had a small problem. They’re replacing a part. It’s a long flight across the Atlantic, and they’ve got to make sure the thing’s in top condition when it takes off.”
“Damn it!”
“Relax. The jet’s at an airport outside Philadelphia. Once it’s fixed it’ll be to you in north Jersey in no time. Do you hear me? In no time.”
CHAPTER 33
“You cheated on me, you bastard ! I give you everything, I put up with all the shit that comes along with being Troy Jensen’s girlfriend, and then you fuck some Spanish whore. That’s how you thank me? That’s what I get for loving you as much as a woman can possibly love a man?”
“Jennie, I—”
“That’s what I get for seeing you a few days a month, maybe, and getting half your attention when I do see you. For never knowing where you really are or who you’re really with when you’re away because everything is this huge secret with you that I can’t know anything about because I can’t be trusted.”
“It wasn’t about trust. It was about—”
“That’s the thanks and the love I get in return for being completely dedicated and totally loyal to you? I hate you, Troy!”
“How did you know where I was?”
“I saw pictures of you fucking her in Barcelona,” Jennie sobbed, tears welling in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks in pulsing streams. “Graphic pictures, and don’t even try to deny it. I recognized you in those photos right away. How could I not? And who knows how many other women you’ve been screwing in the last nine months?”
“No, I meant how do you know I was in Spain?” Troy demanded, leaning down so he was face-to-face with her as she sat in the chair of the run-down, fifth-floor apartment. “That’s what I need to know.” The place was vacant, and the chair in the middle of the bare room was the only stick of furniture in the entire apartment. “Who told you?” he demanded. “Who’s your source? Tell me, goddamn it!”
“I’m not going to tell you anything after what you’ve—”
“You’d better, Jennie.”
“Or what?”
“Or I could let your imagination wander for a week and you still wouldn’t come up with half the things I could do to make you talk.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me. I want my boy back, and I don’t care what I have to do to get him, especially to the people responsible for taking him from me.”
Troy was going at her hard, and Jack wanted to have compassion for Jennie. But he couldn’t. She’d set up Karen and Little Jack to be kidnapped. She’d admitted that terrible truth a few minutes ago, as soon as Troy had forced her into the chair. It was as if she couldn’t wait to tell him what she’d done.
They’d brought her to this run-down tenement deep in the heart of Brooklyn after grabbing her in the Manhattan parking garage. Without her knowing, Troy had programmed her cell phone at the beginning of their relationship so he could track her movements everywhere. It hadn’t taken them long to catch up with her once they were in the city.
Jack would have thought Troy was paranoid for doing that to Jennie’s phone — before tonight. Now he figured Troy was just being smart and careful — as it seemed his younger brother always was. Troy was an RC7 agent, and he was suspicious of everyone, because he had to be. It made Jack wonder about his own phone.
Red Cell Seven used this Brooklyn tenement as a location to interrogate, Jack assumed, or to hole up. Troy hadn’t said that, but it was obvious he’d been here before. More than once, Jack was guessing from the confident way his brother had driven the SUV to this place without needing GPS or a map.
“A little bird told me you were there with that bitch in Spain,” Jennie shot back in a quivering voice, rising up and taking a step toward the room’s lone door.