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She was too tired, maybe even too doped up. Amy knew she wasn’t herself as a tightness squeezed her throat. This was madness. She didn’t know anything about McCann’s personal life. She had no right to feel any ties, any connection. Her attraction to him was a surprise and totally inappropriate. She was becoming emotional over nothing.

“Are we done?” Amy asked in what she hoped was a clear voice.

“For now.”

“Good. I want to call my son and daughter.” She had to ask, even if it was for the umpteenth time.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible yet. We’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

Safe for who? Amy asked herself. What was safe about letting two seven-year-olds think their mother might be dead?

She felt herself really choking up now. “You can close the frigging door on your way out.”

Amy lay back down and pulled the covers up to her chin. She closed her eyes, knowing sleep was hardly a possibility.

Chapter 57

Branford, Connecticut
8:38 p.m.

Mako closed the door to the airplane behind him. The seat nearest to the door had been saved for him. He sat down and buckled up. The lights in the cabin were off. There were empty seats, and the others were scattered throughout the small plane. Some of the men had died, some lived. That was the nature of this line of business. It was the risk they all took. Mako wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

He looked through the small window at Kilo, who was now leaning against his car, cell phone again held to his ear. Another phone call. Mako took his own cell phone out of his pocket and took a look at the display. No missed calls. He put the phone back in his pocket.

One of the men sitting behind him was listening to a news station on the radio. One specific word caught Mako’s attention. He peered over his shoulder. “What was it they just said?”

“Dead or alive. They are talking about the rescue on Hartford. They don’t know how many are dead or how many are alive.”

Mako turned around in his seat and looked out the window again. Kilo was getting into the station wagon.

There’d been too many screw-ups with this operation. Hartford was supposed to sink to the bottom of the Sound. There weren’t supposed to be any survivors. A dead Darius McCann was supposed to take the rap for planning it. A few things had gone wrong and a few things had gone right.

The plane began rolling toward the end of the runway.

Mako tried to look at this entire operation through the eyes of those who’d hired him. The job was done. The three survivors were a problem, but they were being taken care of by Kilo. A bigger problem was that everyone knew they’d gotten away. That wasn’t good. They’d be found. For the people that hired him, dead would be better than alive.

At the end of the runway, the pilot revved the engines. Mako looked out the small window. The taillights of the station wagon were disappearing down the dirt drive that led to the main road.

“Hold on,” he said, tapping the pilot on the back. He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. “I’m getting out.”

Chapter 58

Yale-New Haven Hospital
8:39 p.m.

It was too hot, but they couldn’t open the windows for safety reasons. McCann got up and looked for a thermostat. Finding it, he turned it down and opened the door. He was told they had the hospital wing to themselves. He scanned the empty hallway. He knew which room Brody was in, and wondered which one was Amy’s.

Brody’s condition wasn’t too good. The bullets had been removed from his leg, but he was scheduled for another surgery tomorrow morning. There was a concern he might lose the leg. They had him drugged up for the night.

He hadn’t seen Amy since they arrived here. He wanted to. Dunn had mentioned that Sarah was debriefing her. At least he’d been told the extent of her injuries and that she was okay.

He stepped back into the room. It didn’t matter that the other man was a navy investigator. McCann felt comfortable enough with Dunn to cut through the bullshit and tell him what was on his mind.

“The fact that I’m half Middle Eastern was the sole reason they pushed Parker aside and arranged for me to be on board this morning. They were trying to pin this entire thing on me.”

“Interestingly enough,” Dunn said, “during the first briefing at the Pentagon, that little tidbit of information about your parentage was one of the first things to come up.”

“Who brought it up?”

“Rear Admiral Smith.”

“I thought he was dead,” McCann said.

“He was, but he was resurrected this morning by President Hawkins himself.”

“Did anyone pounce on that information?” McCann asked, angry that idiots like Smith would press that button, in spite of his exemplary record.

“No one. In fact, Admiral Meisner worked hard to quash that discussion as a red herring.”

“So did Commander Dunn.”

Both of them turned toward the doorway. Sarah was leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked as beautiful as ever. Beautiful, polished, and professional.

McCann felt a peculiar rush and realized that it wasn’t for the woman standing in the doorway. This woman had been a friend and even a girlfriend at one time, but that wasn’t it.

Because Sarah was standing here, it meant he could go and check on Amy now, and that gave him a very pleasant sensation.

“It’s good to see you, Sarah,” he said.

He’d heard from Dunn that she didn’t have to work on this case, but she’d wanted to. McCann knew her well enough to know she’d only put herself in this position because she believed in his innocence.

“Thank you for what you’re doing,” he told her. He then turned to Bruce. “And I appreciate you being a voice of reason on my behalf this morning.”

Bruce nodded before getting to his feet. “I should leave you two alone for couple of minutes to—”

“That won’t be necessary,” McCann interrupted. “Actually, I was hoping to visit with Amy for a bit.”

The two investigators exchanged a look. “I don’t see a problem with it,” Sarah replied.

Dunn nodded.

Their response told McCann a lot about whether they considered him a suspect or not in this investigation. They clearly didn’t, or they wouldn’t be allowing him out of their sight.

He paused at the door. Sarah hadn’t moved. He’d known her a long time. Long enough to understand what she needed. What he’d failed to give her. Closure.

“Thank you for being here,” he said gently.

Her composure faltered slightly. He opened his arm, and she hugged him. He held her against his chest for a long time.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” she said, pulling back and smiling. “Happy birthday, you old man.”

“The big 4–0,” he said. She wasn’t far behind him, but he didn’t think she needed a reminder.

“How does it feel?”

“The mileage I’ve put on over the past twenty hours or so is catching up to me. I could probably fall sleep standing up.”

“That goes for Amy, too,” she told him. “You’d better hurry if you want to catch her awake. Second door down, across the hall.”

That was all McCann needed to hear. He crossed to her door and knocked softly.

Chapter 59

Branford, Connecticut
8:40 p.m.

The Beech 1900 twin engine aircraft never even cleared the line of trees. Mako figured the fuel tank would be blamed for the explosion that occurred immediately after takeoff. Later, the investigators wouldn’t worry too much about the possibility of foul play, not after the evidence began to mount that the victims of the plane crash were the same hijackers who’d squeezed America’s throat that very morning.