Eyes Only (14 page)

“I don't know. Power over them? Back in the day, Charles and Fergus both were top-notch black ops agents,” Annie replied. “Humiliation? Jellicoe and Charles were friends at one point during their lives, until Hank Jellicoe went rogue. And, of course, we captured him, or I should say, the vigilantes captured him. Unfortunately, one of Charles's men let him escape. Being caught by a bunch of women had to be humiliating. Some men, and I think Hank Jellicoe comes under the heading of ‘some men,' would never be able to live that down. Plus, he is now in exile, so to speak, taking orders from Angus Spyder. This is all guesswork on my part, of course, but I think I'm right, and I have a pretty good track record. What do you think, Myra?”

“I think you are scary right, my friend. That is what I think. Right now, though, there's too much we don't know. Remember now, we're just guessing that Jellicoe is on Spyder Island.”

Annie settled the sparkling tiara more firmly on her head, a sure sign that whatever was to follow would be up to her. She looked over at Sparrow and said, “We've had more than our share of false starts here. We had plan after plan, but in the end none of them were good enough, so we went back to the drawing board. It was Alexis who finally nailed the final plan, the one we are going with. We all agreed. We are scheduled to leave for Spyder Island tomorrow. Having said that, our ETD is up in the air because of several things. Alexis had to order two cargo planes. She was having some difficulty, as I understand it, and that's another reason we might be delayed.”

Sparrow jumped in, a smile on his face. “I got her two C-130s from Andrews Air Force Base. Actually, I got one from them and one from Quantico. They will be parked and ready for takeoff at Dulles the moment you give the okay.”

Annie grinned. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Nice going. Alexis called me last night and said that everything we agreed upon will be arriving at the airport by noon tomorrow. We can load up and be ready to go the moment she's satisfied with her plan, which, by the way, is a really good plan.”

“Now might be a good time to share that plan, Countess,” Sparrow said, grinning from ear to ear.

Giving her tiara a firm nudge, Annie said, “I think you might be right, Mr. Sparrow. Gather close, children, and listen very carefully.”

Myra laughed out loud. This was Annie at her finest. She watched her give the tiara another nudge. She did love her.

Chapter 13

T
he kitchen and dining room at Pinewood crackled with electricity as the group talked, laughed, and plotted. The adrenaline in the room was at an all-time high as the group prepped for the new mission, which was to get under way in less than thirty-six hours.

Her dream shelved for the time being, Annie let loose with a sharp whistle that brought all the dogs on the run. Not so those in the group, who merely stopped talking to see what was going on.

“War room, everyone!” Annie called. The gang peeled off, with Jack Sparrow in the rear. Annie handed him a picture and said, “I want one of these. How do I get one?”

Sparrow looked down at the picture in his hand and gasped. “Just like that, you want one of
these?
”

“Yep,” Annie said. “How do I go about getting one? Can you help me? I'd like it by tomorrow, if possible. Actually, it's not negotiable. I
need
it by tomorrow afternoon.”

Sparrow burst out laughing. “Well, now, let's see. I guess I could call one of the Joint Chiefs or maybe someone at the Pentagon and tell them that Countess de Silva wants a Little Bird by tomorrow.”

“Is that how it works?”

“
No!
I was making fun of your request. Why in the hell do you want a Little Bird helicopter, and what makes you think that I, of all people, can get you one?”

“That's the way that I want to travel to Spyder Island. I'm going to make a statement. And since you are the director of the FBI, you must have some clout. Use it. Please.”

In spite of himself, Sparrow laughed. “Will you be wearing your tiara when you hop off the bird? Do you know anything about helicopters? You jump off. You do not deplane.”

“You jump, you tuck, and you roll. Yep, I got it. Of course I'll be wearing my tiara. I told you, I want to make a statement, and the tiara is part of it. So, can you get me one or not?”

“I don't know this for a fact, but I tend to think the only way you can get one is if some retired general has one he restored or came by some other way. I'll make some calls. What are you willing to pay?”

“Whatever it takes,” Annie responded smartly. “Please don't disappoint me, Mr. Sparrow. I really have my heart set on flying and deplaning out of one of those.”

“Uh, Annie, you don't . . . ah, deplane. Didn't you hear what I just said? You jump and hit the ground running. You could lose your tiara.”

“Smart-ass!” Annie snapped. “I still want one. I'm just having fun with you.”

Sparrow had his cell phone in hand as he shuffled along behind Annie to the secret staircase that led to the underground dungeon and war room, where a lively discussion had already begun, with Alexis having the floor. He watched as Annie ran over to Alexis and whispered in her ear. He grinned when he saw Alexis burst out laughing and give Annie a thumbs-up.

Jack Sparrow was one of those people who could listen, absorb, even comment while texting or mumbling into his phone. He was doing it all at that very moment. Of all the things he'd ever been asked to do in his personal or professional life, this request was the strangest. For some ungodly reason, however, he really did not want to fail Annie. He'd get that damn Little Bird one way or the other. As Annie had pointed out, he was, after all, the director of the goddamn Federal Bureau of Investigation. That had to count for something in this life.

Three hours later, as the meeting droned on, Sparrow finally got a solid lead and followed it up. A group of six army officers, all full-bird colonels and pilots, had in 2004 purchased a Little Bird that was about to be eighty-sixed. They had had it restored and took turns using it for pleasure. It was currently housed in a private hangar in upstate New York. On his third call, Sparrow managed to speak to a retired colonel, Duke Wilson. After Wilson got over the shock of having the FBI director personally call him, things got under way. Sparrow made his offer. He encountered little resistance. Wilson said he would contact the others and get back to him within an hour. Sparrow gave him thirty minutes, but not before Wilson told him the Little Bird wouldn't come cheap. He rattled off some numbers, which Sparrow shot down, then agreed to. He motioned to Annie to see the number on his phone. She nodded.

And the deal was put to bed with the promise that the Little Bird would set down at Dulles International Airport by midmorning of the following day, complete with all the paperwork. Annie then whispered in Sparrow's ear that after she had her fun with the Little Bird, it would be sold to the highest bidder, with the money going to the Wounded Warrior Project. Then he saw her look over at Alexis again and wink. Sparrow was the first to admit he knew almost next to nothing about women, but at that moment he was totally convinced that the two women were plotting something with the Little Bird. He shrugged. There was nothing he could do about whatever it was, and he was smart enough to recognize the fact.

Sparrow crooked a finger in Abner's direction and showed him the screen on his cell phone, which meant he was to wire the funds for the Little Bird to Colonel Wilson ASAP. He nodded and grinned at a mental picture of Annie sitting on the running board of the Little Bird, wearing her tiara and Louboutin shoes with the spike heels. It wasn't that he knew anything about women's fashion, but he recognized the famous name from the chattering women. Obviously, if you wore Louboutin shoes, you were a fashionista. As far as making a statement to one Angus Spyder, he personally didn't think it could get any better than that.

Sparrow got all flustered and turned pink when Annie winked at him and gave him a thumbs-up. He'd come through for her. That was all that mattered. Damn, he felt good. He leaned back and focused on the conversations around him to make sure he wasn't missing anything.

After listening carefully for thirty minutes, Sparrow decided it was time to speak up. He waved his hand for attention. “So far, all I'm hearing is the name Hank Jellicoe. Hank Jellicoe this and Hank Jellicoe that. I thought this mission of yours . . . ours was about Gretchen Spyder, the children she gave up for adoption, and the adopting Domingo family.

“Mr. Albright, alias Stephen Wolansky, who is the biological father of the adopted twins, twins he knew nothing about, is now an FBI rookie agent with the assignment of seeing to the matter and bringing it to a resolution. I haven't heard anything about how we're going to do any of that. So, is the mission Hank Jellicoe or the Domingos and Gretchen Spyder?”

“Both. They are inextricably intertwined, Mr. Sparrow,” Myra said. “Gretchen and the children are our primary concern, but we have to factor in Mr. Jellicoe. And, to be honest, we are trying to be preemptive, because we do not know for certain that he is even on the island. We need to be prepared if he is. Hank Jellicoe is an evil man and will stop at nothing, and I mean nothing, to protect his own skin. He was a hair away from losing it once, and he will never let himself be put in that position again. And this time he has all the might of Angus Spyder and his fortune to back him up. We're just a bunch of women. That is the way he thought of us back then. If you have any advice or ideas, now would be a good time to present them.”

“I don't. I just wanted to make sure I understand. I'm still not getting how you think he isn't going to recognize you all. Your pictures were in all the papers. You were all household names.”

Myra laughed. “He never met Annie. He never met Abner, Dennis, or Mr. Albright. Alexis is a master at disguise. Trust me when I tell you that that lady has everything under control. As for you, Mr. Sparrow, you will not recognize yourself when she's done with you. Even though you never met either man personally, your picture has obviously been in the papers more than once. We can't risk exposing you. And, by the way, Mr. Snowden just sent me a text assuring us that the Domingos are as safe as safe can be. He does want to know what we want to do about the bugs someone planted in Annie's house. We need to think about that and make a decision.”

Sparrow nodded as he sank deep into thought. The meeting went on, notes were taken, and coffee was consumed by the gallon. Myra left twice to see to the dogs and returned immediately both times. He was amazed and stunned at how the group worked together. They could finish each other's sentences, voice each other's thoughts. A well-oiled team. Better than most of his own teams at the bureau, where it was all about ego and whose name went first on the list.

When the group finally wound down, they all looked exhausted, but in a good kind of way. They were pumped and ready to go. Especially the women. Once again, he thought about how little he knew about women. What he did know was that he was looking at one hell of a group of dedicated women who did not know the meaning of the word
failure.
In that one second, he knew this mission would be successful. He felt himself relax and wished he had a dozen teams like this one at the bureau. If only. He didn't give a second thought to breaking the law. Not one nanosecond. Been there, done that.

It was approaching seven o'clock, dusk now, as Pinewood came alive once again. Dennis and Greg Albright had volunteered to barbecue steaks outside on the grill. The women were bustling about in the kitchen, making salads and baking potatoes. A good but plain dinner that would give them all enough sustenance to work through the night so they could leave on schedule. A schedule that had been moved so many times, it was almost as though it would never happen. And then, suddenly, everything was in place, and their estimated time of departure was set for three o'clock the following afternoon.

It was finally happening. There was no backing out now.

It was a pleasant spring evening, not too hot, not too cold. A gentle breeze whispered among the trees. The dogs meandered around the yard, sniffing at all the fresh sprouts appearing like magic. The floodlights, while bright, were angled just so, bathing the entire expanse of lawn in a soft glow of light. As Myra expressed it to the others, and they all agreed, it was a fitting end to an exhausting day.

At some invisible sign that Sparrow missed, a whirlwind ensued. Within minutes, the terrace was free of any signs of dinner. The grill was cleaned and turned off. The dishwasher was loaded and humming. With no leftovers, there was nothing to wrap and refrigerate. The dogs contentedly gnawed on the massive steak bones.

To his amazement, Alexis whistled sharply for instant silence. She had the group's attention immediately. “Listen up, people. We are now in our final phase. So, let's get to it. Nikki and Isabelle are going to be helping me. Otherwise, we'll be here till the cows wander home. Your transformations are going to take all night and into tomorrow. I am going to count myself lucky if we finish on time.”

And from there on in, things worked like the final prep before a rocket launch. Sparrow settled back with his iPad and conducted business, then dozed off until his name was called sometime during the middle of the night.

Hours later, just as the sun was rising, Sparrow walked out into the kitchen to see a strange group of people milling about. He had no clue who they were. Feeling stupid and foolish, he asked and was rewarded with gales of laughter. From out of nowhere, one of the strange guests handed him a mirror. For a moment, he found it hard to breathe when he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked down at his wrist to see if his arm was his own. His watch was the same; his signet ring was the same. He wondered if he had a new name to go with his new persona.

Jack Emery clapped him on the back, but Jack Emery now looked like a runway model. A
female
runway model. Sparrow almost choked on his own saliva. Ted Robinson now looked like a nerdy female librarian, complete with curly gray hair and granny glasses. Espinosa was an over-the-hill senorita wearing a ton of noisy turquoise jewelry that clanked and tinkled when he moved. They were all wearing high-heeled shoes.

“The guys are now girls, and the girls are now guys. The reason for this is that Jellicoe knows us all quite well. Believe it or not, we used to work for him, as did Bert.” Jack motioned to Harry and Yoko, who were dozing. “Mama-san and Papa-san.”

Sparrow gasped. Harry and Yoko looked to be a hundred years old to Sparrow's eyes. He looked over his shoulder to see a guy he'd never seen before. A light-skinned black man with a close-cropped head of hair. If his life depended on it, he couldn't have said who he was looking at. Nor could he tell who the other two black men were. He could hardly keep from laughing when Kathryn, Nikki, and Isabelle started to giggle.

“What I'm seeing is the impossible,” Sparrow said. “What and who is Alexis going as? And where is Myra?”

“Alexis is probably going to be a secret until the last moment, and she'll probably do herself, plus Maggie, on the plane. That's the way it usually works,” Nikki said.

Sparrow looked around. Dennis, Abner, and Albright stood off to the side, more to show the contrast between all of them than anything else.

“Okay, okay, I get it, and I am impressed. I didn't think this was possible, but now I see that it is. Alexis is a genius. Having said that, who are we? What names will be on the flight manifest? You have to know that is the first thing Spyder will have his people check.”

“We all have legends, thanks to you and to Avery Snowden. All foolproof. The countess always travels with a full retinue of people, staff, friends, relatives. She's eccentric, so anything goes where she is concerned,” Nikki said.

Sparrow absorbed all that he was hearing and tried to wrap his mind around how it was all going to go down. He needed to stop the buzzing in his head. He switched topics. “I understand about the Little Bird, but what's going in the two C-130 cargo planes?”