Fated Identity (Red Star #6) (10 page)

“Bob Jensen.”

Brienne stood up from the middle cushion on the couch as the third item on Crest’s list had finally been accomplished, wanting to throw her cup of coffee across the room. She needed to hear it shatter, see it being destroyed with as much desire as she wanted Crest to retract his declaration. Her team—make that her former team—was falling apart. She’d yet to fully realize the ramifications that her career was over and her life would never be the same. The safety of those men and women had always come first and she refused to believe Bob had anything to do with betraying her. He was a dear friend of hers.

“That’s not a possibility.”

“Brienne, they kidnapped his five-year-old son.”

“Excuse me?” Brienne lost the ability to breathe as the pressure on her chest became real. Brutal images of what could happen to such a young child entered her mind before she could put those barriers up that she’d gotten accustomed to using during overseas assignments. She could only imagine what Bob was going through. Grady was by her side immediately, indicating she needed to keep grounded. “You’re telling me that ISI took Michael Jensen? Is SSA Telfer aware of this? Do they have the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team assembled—”

“Yes, it’s being handled,” Crest advised over a loud purring sound that could be heard in the background. “Starr is using her operations group to assist in the rescue mission and we’re hoping the element of surprise is enough to keep Michael alive. Jensen gave himself over when he was forced to kill one of Shujaat Qalat’s lieutenants who wasn’t happy with the answers he was being given. He made one too many threats and Jensen snapped. ISI isn’t aware their source has turned and their handler terminated.”

Crest didn’t have to convey that those answers ISI sought had everything and anything to do with Brienne’s current location. They were bound and determined to eliminate her for God knows what motive, which most likely added on to their desperation in being unable to locate Raheela. Qalat has lost control of whatever plan he had in motion and now a little boy’s life was at stake.

“And what of Qalat?” Grady asked, motioning for Brienne to sit down. There was no telling how long they would be here now, but she couldn’t bring herself to stay stationary. She handed the SAT phone over to Grady as she started to pace in order to ease some of her anxiety. She wasn’t used to being on the sidelines during the homecoming game. “Do we know of his location?”

“Qalat is still in Pakistan, making it hard for us to reach his location. However, it also makes quick changes in directions difficult for our adversaries. His communications system is coordinated through several take-outs for security reasons. Chief among those was to escape detection by the NSA,” Crest explained, the whirring noise fading slightly. Brienne recognized the sounds of a turboprop driven aircraft. “Telfer is on his way there, working a deal out with the Foreign Minister, who the ISI doesn’t have control of. In fact, we believe the ISI has been acting outside the government’s control on this whole operation. Their government officials are trying to maintain peace within the region, and with the U.S. They weren’t too happy to discover Qalat has been using resources for his own selfish means. They aren’t willing to go as far as handing him over, but they are prepared to allow a witness when they take him into custody for treason. It’s the best we can do given our tenuous relationship at the moment.”

Brienne understood the significance of what Crest was saying. The Agency would be allowed to observe whatever interrogation methods the Pakistani officials authorized, designed to garner the desired intelligence. It was more than evident Qalat had a hand in aiding the rebellions and insurgents against the current Pakistani government. That was punishable by death, but the ISI had a unique level of influence when it came to dealing with its own government. They needed to maintain the military’s support to govern the people and the ISI had direct ties to the military. The question remained if Telfer would be able to acquire any information regarding what truly happened to the Red Starr unit during that fateful mission. The dots were connecting and it was only a matter of time before the picture was complete.

“Where are you going now?” Brienne asked, turning back so that her words could thoroughly be heard over the satellite phone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Crest advised, his confidence coming across the line loud and clear. “Reinforcements just arrived with their equipment and I’m here to greet them personally.”

“The cell that Qalat had managed to organize in the D.C. area has to be strained with trying to find my location while keeping Michael Jensen secure,” Brienne said, thinking out loud. Grady was already motioning for her to stop with her train of thought, but she couldn’t stand the concept of Bob’s son being harmed in any way. “Tell Starr and the FBI HRT to hold off if they find Michael’s location. Let me be the distraction the Agency needs to make a safe rescue. The bad guys should leap at the chance. It will put them off balance and weaken their defense of the safe house location where they’re keeping Bob’s son.”

“No,” Grady barked into the phone. It was already too late. Brienne had made up her mind and she had no doubt that Gavin Crest and Catori Starr would agree with the strategy. The location where Michael Jensen was being held needed to be thinned out to lessen the risk to his life. The only person capable of doing that was Brienne. “Crest, allow things to proceed as planned. Brienne stays here.”

“You explained in great detail what it was like to lose Madison,” Brienne exclaimed, not hesitating to cross that delicate line. There wasn’t time for pleasantries, selfishness, or ignorance. Grady understood that, but his judgment was being slightly hindered from past experiences. “What exactly do you think Bob and Sharon will experience if their son dies today? Their innocent five-year-old child?”

Silence hung thick in the air and not even Crest ventured into the dampening cloud. Brienne had never seen such anguish in a person as she did with Grady at this very moment. Tears stung her eyes at what she was asking of him, but it was the right thing to do.

“Grady,” Brienne whispered, stepping close to the man she’d come to love more than anything in this world. She raised an arm so that her palm rested against his freshly shaven skin, grateful for the warmth that penetrated her cold hands. “If this were any other agent, you would have suggested it out of the gate. Qalat’s men are desperate because they’ve lost contact with the person pulling the strings and their source’s handler. They are disorganized without senior leadership, and will most likely end up killing an innocent little boy unless we provide the necessary distraction and the only possible way for them to accomplish their mission.”

Grady’s jawline was as tight as a piano wire. It was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack underneath the pressure. His dark eyes became almost black in his attempt at reconciling what Brienne was suggesting. He’d wrapped his other hand around her arm and his grip became even more constricting, as he had no choice but to accept her proposal. The struggle within him was strikingly obvious and she physically hurt for him. She would have given anything for them not to be here at this moment…but they were.

“This is what we signed up for, Grady. Isn’t that what you said? We need to honor that fated identity.”

“Alert Starr and the FBI HRT lead that we’ll be headed into D.C. within four hours,” Grady said harshly into the SAT phone before disconnecting the call. He glanced down at the device as if it was a lifeline, but he wouldn’t find the reprieve he was looking for. Brienne’s heart tore upon his next words. “That identity you’re talking about wasn’t written in blood, Brie. Mine was. Not yours.”

Grady turned and walked out of the room, leaving Brienne standing there alone as she pondered his words. Yes, he was the one who’d endorsed his life over to the United States Marines. He was the one who’d gone on countless deployments and combat tours, placing himself at the will of the Corps in many battles to defend his country. What he understood but didn’t want to accept was that she was bound by the same contract, regardless that ninety percent of the time she was safe behind a desk.

Brienne was dressed in the jeans she’d had on from yesterday, along with the camisole she’d been wearing upon arrival at this safe house. She reached for the matching white blazer, the blood spots still apparent on one of the sleeves. She’d done her best to wash it out, but to no avail. She stared intently at the small dots and even ran her thumb over the stains, recalling the terror she’d experienced when she shattered the window and killed a man. She wasn’t just scared about walking back into a similar situation…she was downright terrified of what was to come.

Brienne’s fingers trembled when she reached for her cup of coffee still sitting on the small table in front of the couch. How could she convince Grady that he shouldn’t be by her side on the drive into the city? It was pure hypocrisy, but she wouldn’t have to worry about him and he’d have a better vantage point of anyone coming her way if he were in a chase vehicle. She’d already accepted that it wouldn’t happen that way, but it was nice to imagine.

“You have absolutely no idea what you are asking me to do.” Grady had come out of the bedroom right when she’d reached the kitchen sink, his words barely above a harsh murmur. The raw emotion was evident and Brienne set her coffee cup next to the drain before pressing her fingers to her lips to prevent herself from breaking down. It had never been her intent to hurt him like this. “I will do this for the parents of Michael Jensen, but we do it my way. No more heroics.”

Brienne didn’t need to turn around to know Grady had come up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest, resting his warm cheek against hers. She inhaled as deeply as she could, capturing his essence in hopes it would give her the strength to carry out the rest of this assignment. She leaned back and then tilted her face closer to his.

“I will agree to that on one condition,” Brienne whispered, closing her eyes to savor this moment. She refused to believe that they’d made it this far only to have history repeat itself. She needed something to hold on to. “From what you told me about Madison, she’ll be watching over you today. I want you to take me to her grave when this is all said and done. I want the chance to thank her for having a hand in the man you’ve become.”

“We can do that, if you like.”

Grady had granted Brienne’s wish, his relief evident at the fact that she wasn’t going to try something foolish.

She wouldn’t, because he would be there to prevent her from acting out.

Brienne had already accepted that Grady would be by her side today. She could only pray they made it through this alive.

‡

T
he SUV’s temperature
was set at a comfortable seventy degrees. The vents were softly blowing the regulated air through the interior, doing nothing to alleviate the concern Grady and Brienne were currently consumed with. This was it. Today was the day this all ended.

Grady and Brienne had spent the first hour of the drive coordinating their arrival with Gavin Crest. His men were in position and they had already scouted the exact access road on which he and Brienne would enter, as well as the assembly site. This, of course, was all being organized in conjunction with the CIA and FBI.

The FBI had been briefed. It had two teams on the ground in two locations in the greater D.C. area, and were now the lead organization overseeing this part of the assignment, although Grady didn’t have to wonder who was really calling the shots. The Agency had no doubt withheld specific intelligence, suiting their purposes and taking advantage of the additional reinforcements brought to bear by both private contractors present.

Everyone was waiting for Brienne to make an appearance, drawing the attention away from the location of Michael Jensen. Granted, this undertaking was already underway, but there were multiple goals that needed to be obtained—the main being to eliminate the cell Qalat and the ISI had managed to infiltrate so close to the heart of the nation.

Grady and Brienne had traveled at least a hundred and sixty miles before the critical update they’d been waiting on came through. The tension in the vehicle could have been cut with a knife, but the ringing of the SAT phone had done just as good a job.

“Starr has given confirmation,” Crest relayed, being their person of contact. Grady wouldn’t have it any other way. “Bob Jensen placed the call in to his contact thirty minutes ago, under the supervision of SSA Telfer. The connection was long enough that the technicians were able to trace the location of the group of men we’re targeting within three meters of their cell phone. Not only were they able to trace the initial call, they were able to track others located in the same general area and listen in to the conversations in the vicinity of those phones.”

Grady was pleased to hear the accomplishment of this morning’s endeavor, but he understood all too well the events that had to take place afterward for this to be a true success.