Bad Nights (20 page)

“And maybe put on some pants and a bra in case someone comes in.”

“I don't need a bra.”

“Funny.”

He watched her slide out of bed and collect her underwear. For good measure, she also put her T-shirt back on.

While she was out of bed, he straightened the covers but didn't bother with any clothing. When she came back into his arms, he let himself drift off, more content than he had ever remembered. He thought he should go back to his own room, but sleeping with Morgan was too tempting.

Sometime later, the loud ringing of the secure line woke him, and he wished he'd bothered to put on some clothing.

***

Early the next morning, Wade Trainer called four of his most trusted men—Rayburn, Chambers, Salter, and Porter—into his office.

“We're going on a covert recon mission,” he told them. “In Rockville, Maryland. We'll dress like good old boys. T-shirts. Baseball caps. Jeans. But we'll have weaponry with us, in case we get the chance for some action.”

He led the way to the wardrobe room, where he kept outfits for various occasions. He started off personally picking clothing for each of them. Boots and a Redskins T-shirt for Porter. A similar outfit with a John Deere T-shirt for Salter.

Chambers gave him a glance then turned back to the rack of clothing. “Sir, can I have a Hooters shirt?”

Wade was in an expansive mood. He'd been burned, and now he was striking back. Maybe not with an attack right away, but he was definitely going to get the lay of the land at Rockfort Security.

“That will be fine,” he allowed, then let himself have some fun as well. He took a fierce-looking dragon shirt for himself along with worn blue jeans and hiking boots.

Selecting the clothing helped relax the guys. When they were dressed in the outfits, he gave them a quick inspection, pleased with the effect. Nobody would know they were seasoned troops on a vital mission unless they got out of the vehicles and snapped to attention.

“We'll take two SUVs,” he said. He was about to order everyone into the vehicles when another thought struck him. “Chambers and Porter, go to the supply shed and get a couple of sets of Maryland license plates. No use giving ourselves away with ones from Virginia. Chambers will change the plates on the tan vehicle. Porter will take the dark blue.”

“Yes, sir,” the two men answered, then hurried off to carry out the orders.

The plates were stolen from vehicles that he'd figured nobody was going to drive again. Using them would mean that they'd have to strictly obey all traffic regulations.

“You get the SUVs ready while I personally select the weapons and other armaments.”

He left Hamilton in charge at the compound, then got on the road.

When the loud ringing of the secure line woke Jack, he climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants, then dashed down the hall to the phone at the top of the stairs.

Shane and Max were already talking when he picked up the receiver. He was aware of Morgan following him. She had also pulled on pants to go with the clothes she'd been sleeping in and leaned in close to him to hear the conversation.

“What?” Jack demanded.

Max, who had ended up staying at the office, was speaking. “There's been some activity here. A few minutes ago, the security cameras picked up two SUVs with guys driving in.”

The office was located in an industrial park, but the Rockfort men had tapped into the park security system. The cameras that scanned the exterior of the strip of warehouses gave them a visual check on the whole complex.

“What guys?”

“They're all dressed like rednecks, with baseball caps pulled down low to hide their faces, and T-shirts, but I suspect it's Trainer and some of his men.”

“The vehicles have Virginia tags?”

“No, Maryland, but they could be stolen.”

“You want us over there?” Jack asked.

Morgan grabbed his arm.

“No,” Max said. “I'll keep an eye on the situation. They can't get in here without heavy arms. And that would draw the attention of the Montgomery County cops.”

Morgan's grip tightened on Jack's arm. “How did they find your offices?” she asked. “I mean, they didn't know who you were when you were at the camp, did they?”

“No,” Jack answered, not liking the implications. There'd been no indication that Trainer knew who he was during the interrogation. It seemed that had suddenly changed.

He swore under his breath. “Maybe through my fingerprints. Unless he ran back to camp and burned everything I'd touched, he's got them.”

“Didn't he check them before?” Morgan pressed.

“Apparently not.”

“And how did he check them now?” she asked.

“I don't think he's sophisticated enough to tap into law enforcement databases. He must have a contact who can do it for him.”

“Now what's the plan?” Shane asked.

“I'll stay here for the time being,” Max answered. “And if I come back there, I'll make damn sure nobody follows me.”

Jack and Shane murmured their agreement.

“What are they doing there?” Morgan asked.

“We have to assume they're thinking about getting even.”

“As in taking us down,” Jack growled. “But it ain't gonna happen.”

“Well, they've tipped their hand,” Max said.

Morgan sucked in a sharp breath, and Jack slung his arm around her.

“Keep us in the loop,” Shane said. “And let us know if you need us there.”

“It's probably better if you stay away,” Max answered.

They hung up, and Jack looked at Morgan's worried face.

“If they know who you are, don't you have to
do
something?” she asked.

“Nothing's changed at our end. If we move on them now, we lose the opportunity to find out their plans.”

“But…”

“We can't attack them without proof of what they're up to.”

He reached for Morgan and wrapped his arms around her. “I know this seems scary, but it's going to be okay,” he said.

“I don't like it that they found Rockfort so fast.”

“Neither do I, if you want to know the truth.”

She raised her face so she could meet his gaze. “Promise you won't keep anything from me.”

He hesitated.

“Promise.”

“I don't make all the decisions here.”

“But anything involving the militia also involves me.”

“Yeah.”

Maybe she realized that was all she was going to get out of him because she said, “I think we'd better get to work investigating those names on the emails.”

“Uh huh.” He was thinking they should have already been working on that last night, but he didn't say it. Maybe she was thinking the same thing and keeping it to herself.

“Which one do you want to take?” he asked.

“I can take the G. Washington guy. You do the other one. Yarborough.”

They went back to the bedroom, finished getting dressed, and came downstairs.

Shane was in the office. He gave them a long look when they entered but said nothing about where they had spent the night. Jack was grateful for that. He was sure Morgan wouldn't like any remarks about their personal relationship.

“Any progress on the money trail?” Jack asked.

“I know that the account in the Cayman Islands was established about two years ago.”

“A year before Trainer actually got the militia going,” Jack said. “But he would have needed prep time. He's got a very complete setup there, even considering that he used an old camp.”

“Let's see if we can get any clues that tie the money to either of the men Trainer was emailing,” Morgan said. “Do you have a computer that I can use?”

Shane got up, took a laptop off the shelf over the desk, and handed it to her.

“Do I need a password?”

“All the computers here are connected to the house's internal network. When you turn it on, you're in.”

***

Wade was circling around for another look at the Rockfort Security offices when his cell phone rang.

Jesus, what now?

When he saw the name on the caller ID, he gritted his teeth. It was his moneyman. The last person he wanted to hear from. He considered not answering, then decided that might be a bad idea.

“Trainer here,” he said, then pulled over to the shoulder of the access road that wound through the industrial complex. No use getting pulled over by a cop for talking on his cell phone while driving.

“Where are you?” the voice on the other end of the line demanded.

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to make sure this Jack Barnes thing doesn't blow up in your face.”

“It won't.” Wade glanced at his men. “Give me a minute,” he said. He pulled to the side of the road and motioned for the other SUV to pull over. When both vehicles had stopped, he turned to his men. “Wait here for me. I'll be right back.”

He climbed out of the car, closed the door, and walked a few yards away.

“I have the situation under control,” he said. “I found out that Jack Barnes is really a guy named Jack Brandt, who works for the Rockfort Security Agency.”

“How did you find that out?”

“I had a law enforcement contact check his fingerprints.”

“And the contact has no idea why?”

“Right. I gave him a story he bought.”

“I advise not making a move on the Rockfort agency—yet.”

“I've got heavy arms with me.”

“Do not attack them now.”

“Why not?”

“You want to get all of them, right?”

“Damn straight.”

“Give me a minute to think.”

There were several moments of silence during which Wade felt his stomach knot. Finally his moneyman began to talk. “How about this?”

Soon Wade was grinning.

“That's perfect,” he said.

“I thought you'd like it.”

“Are you sure you can pull it off?”

“Absolutely.”

After securing Wade's approval, Mr. Money seemed to relax. “I never did tell you why your mission was so important to me,” he said.

“That's right.”

“My only son was a West Point graduate. The Army sent him to Afghanistan. And he died in one of those damn Humvees that didn't have enough armor. His death could have been prevented, if only Congress had authorized the money for the right equipment. But they didn't do it. And I want them to go down for it. Understand?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know about your son. Why didn't you tell me?”

Wade had always assumed that Mr. Money was simply a super patriot who wanted to teach the U.S. Government a lesson. Now it seemed that he had personal motives for financing the Real Americans Militia.

“I didn't want my personal story to get in the way of our business relationship, but now I want you to know why your attack is important to me.”

“I understand. We're only days away,” Wade assured him.

“But you have to neutralize Rockfort first. If they're all dead, they can't interfere.”

“Yeah.”

The phone clicked off, and he went back to his men. When he was behind the wheel again, he turned to the troops and said, “Change of plans. We're going back to prepare for an attack tomorrow.” He looked at Salter. “Convey my orders to the men in the other vehicle.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Morgan took the laptop from Shane. “I can work in the great room,” she said.

“Fine.”

She slipped out of the room, glad to get away from the two men. She didn't much like her personal life on display, and she knew it was. She'd like to know what Shane Gallagher really thought about her.

Dragging in a breath, she tried to stop focusing on herself. She wasn't important right now. At the moment her mission was finding out as much as she could about Trainer's buddy, G. Washington.

She grabbed a sandwich for breakfast and a cup of coffee and sat down and booted the computer. She'd grandly told Jack that she was a researcher and could use those skills in any field, but now that she was considering the problem of researching someone who called himself G. Washington, she realized it wasn't going to be so easy. And what if he was using a different name for the Web?

She started with a Google search. Among the many references to the first president, she found a couple of people who might be right and started clicking on the name. After a few tries, she hit something that looked promising. It was a guy replying to a post from one of the online news Web sites. He was complaining about the government's heavy-handed interference in matters that should be left to the states. It sounded like it could be the right man, but that didn't help in coming up with his real identity.

Well, she wasn't going to give up that easily. She checked a couple more sites until he finally mentioned where he lived. Delaware.

Okay, good. That was something she could use.

She opened a notepad in another window and copied the text of his post before she went searching again. This time she used G. Washington and Delaware and came up with a hit that gave her more complaints about government regulations.

Looking up, she saw Jack watching her.

“How are you doing?”

“I'm getting somewhere, but I don't have enough to make any judgments yet.”

He went into the kitchen and came out a few minutes later with a mug of coffee. She might have asked if he wanted to sit in the great room with her, but she figured that she'd get more done if she didn't have to think about the two of them while she worked.

So what were the cities in Delaware? The only one she could think of off the top of her head was Wilmington, but she found more on the Web. Dover. Newark, Milford, Lewes, Rehoboth Beach. She put G. Washington back into the search engine, paired with each of the cities, and came up with nothing. Frustrated, she went back through the earlier references and found that he was complaining about gas prices and highway regulations. And also unfair taxes on new cars.

Which gave her an idea. She returned to the cities and called up a list of car dealerships. In Wilmington, she found a Chevrolet and Cadillac dealer named G. Washburn. Not Washington, but close.

Focusing on him, she found that he was prominent in the chamber of commerce, in the First Methodist Church, the Rotary Club. He also sponsored a couple of youth sports teams and gave to the local SPCA. He looked like an upstanding member of the community.

Digging into his personal life, she discovered that he was married, belonged to the most prominent country club in the area, and owned a condo on Longboat Key in south Florida, where he and his wife spent the winter months.

“Found anything?” Jack asked.

She looked up and saw him standing nearby. She'd been so intent on her assignment that she hadn't even heard him come in.

When she searched his face, she saw that he looked frustrated and tired.

“You're not making much progress?” she asked.

He raised an arm and let it drop back to his side. “I wish I were.” He walked over to the couch and lowered himself to the seat beside her. “What do you have to cheer me up?”

“Well, I've got a lot of information on G. Washington. I know who he is.”

His face brightened. “You're sure?”

“Pretty sure.” When she explained her search process, he nodded. “And he's got money, although I'm not sure if it's enough to outfit a militia organization.” She started telling him the facts she'd uncovered.

He looked impressed. “You said you were good at research.”

She laughed. “Well, some of my research was tracking down plagiarized term papers.”

“You get a lot of that?”

“More than I used to. Or—now there are methods for seeing who's cheating.” She switched back to G. Washington. “I think GW wasn't as good at hiding his identity as your guy.” She turned her head toward him. “What about Yarborough?”

“He doesn't have any kind of personal persona that I can tie to him.”

“Too bad.”

“It means he's going to great lengths to hide his real name. I did trace his email account, though. It goes through a server in Romania.”

Morgan moved so that her shoulder was pressed to Jack's, reassured by his rock-solid body.

He gave her a measured look. “You're doing great,” he said. “And I'm not just talking about research. You're holding up under stress.”

“I wish I were doing better,” she answered. There were so many things she wanted to talk about, and she didn't know where to begin.