THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (30 page)

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Authors: ROBBIE CHEUVRONT AND ERIK REED WITH SHAWN ALLEN

BOOK: THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO
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“He’s at his house. You just saw me on the phone with him,” Jennings said.

Keene stood up and grabbed Boz by the arm.

“Where are you going?” Jennings asked.

“We’re going to see an old friend. Call the SECNAV and ask him how he feels about fishing.” He saw Jennings already shaking his head as he turned to leave.

“No. No way. You’re not using the secretary of the navy as bait.”

Keene stopped and turned back around. “Kevin, we’ve probably got one shot at this, at best. We know
who
she’s coming for. And we know
why
she’s coming for him.” He turned back around and opened the door. “Either you call him, or I will. Besides, I’m not going to use him as bait. That’s what Boz is for.”

CHAPTER 47
Raleigh, North Carolina

A
lex Smith was still lying next to Farid when her pager started buzzing beside the bed. A couple of years ago, she had found a young tech geek in Hungary who had wired this pager especially for her. It worked off a radio signal. Which, now, she realized, was one of the smartest things she had ever thought of. Initially, it was a security measure. By using radio frequency instead of cell signal, she could be reached anywhere in the world without being traced. Now with cell signal down all over the United States, she was glad she’d kept the little thing. She reached over and looked at the display. It was the same number Pemberton had called her from the last time. She threw the thing back on the table and got out of bed. She needed a shower.

Farid stirred beside her as she pushed back the covers. “Where are you going?”

“Shower. I can’t stay in this bed any longer.”

“You need to rest.”

She’d slept well last night. And she already felt a ton better. “I’m fine. Just stiff. A hot shower, and I’ll feel like a new woman.”

“What time is it?”

She picked her watch up from the table by the bed. “Eight thirty. I’m hungry. Why don’t you get up and go get us some breakfast?”

Farid got out of bed and began to get dressed. “There’s a coffee shop on the next block. What do you feel like?”

She told him what sounded good and gave him some small bills from her wallet. “That should cover it.”

He quickly checked her bandages and told her to be careful as she washed. “The hot water will be good. But it’s probably going to sting pretty bad.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll be fine.”

Farid left, and she went to the bathroom and turned on the water. She got undressed and stepped inside. Immediately she winced as the hot water began to run down her shoulder and over her side. But after a few seconds the pain started to subside and she began to feel reenergized.

Farid was back by the time she was done. He gave her injuries the once-over and redressed them. “Whoever worked on this must be a remarkable doctor.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” She laughed.

“You can barely even tell you got shot.”

She rolled her arm around. “Yeah, tell that to my shoulder.”

They ate the croissants and cheese Farid had brought back and finished their coffee. After that, she shed the robe she was wearing and began to get dressed.

“What are you doing? Going somewhere?”

She picked the little pager up off the side table. “Pemberton called. I need to see what he wants.”

Farid looked at her with concern. “You still need a day or two’s rest. Whatever he needs can wait. Can’t it?”

She shrugged at him. “Don’t know. That’s why I have to call him.”

She finished getting dressed and grabbed a room key. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll just go to the lobby and call from the business office.” Farid’s face hadn’t changed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

When they’d checked in a couple of days ago, she had taken a quick tour of the place. She chose this particular hotel for its layout, the same way she chose every hotel she stayed in. It had multiple exits on multiple floors. Some led outside to the street, some to different levels of the parking garage connected to the hotel, and some led through tunnels through the basement to the loading docks. And there were side entrances for employees.

Along with the multiple exits, it had resources. One of those resources was a business center. And though the computers inside were all but useless—given the problems still with the country’s Internet service—it had several telephones. The phones, she knew, were connected through the hotel’s mainframe phone system—meaning all calls went out from the central line. Should anyone be able to ever trace any call made from the hotel, it would only appear to have come from the front desk or one of the main offices, unlike calls made from the rooms of the hotel, which were always routed through a secondary circuitry that split the lines up individually by room.

The business center was empty—something else she expected. Though the people of this country were doing their best to put the pieces back together, business travel would probably be minimal for quite a while to come.

She used her room key to open the door to the suite. Inside, four small cubicle stations had been set up, separated by individual dividers. Each had a computer, with a piece of printer paper taped to the screen that said Out of Order. Next to the computers, a phone.

She sat down in one of the makeshift boxes and picked up the receiver, waited for the dial tone, and punched in the numbers. Pemberton answered on the first ring.

“Mr. Pemberton, this is Ms. Smith. You called?”

“I did. Can you talk?”

“Not here. But I can meet you, if you need.”

“I think that would be a good idea. There have been some new developments.”

She thought for a moment. She definitely couldn’t defend herself in a closed, isolated space. She wouldn’t be able to move like she needed with the injuries. So meeting Pemberton alone was out of the question. She had no idea what “new developments” meant, but in her experience, it usually wasn’t something beneficial to her. If Pemberton wanted to meet, it would have to be in a public place.

“Tell you what,” she said. “There’s a fast-food place on the corner of East Davie and Fayetteville. I’ll meet you there in, say, two hours.”

The line was quiet for a few seconds. “I had hoped to meet somewhere a little more private.”

I’m sure you did
. “Yes, well, there were…complications with my last appointment. I think the fast-food place would be better for me.”

The line was quiet again for a few seconds before Pemberton came back on. “Fine. Two hours.”

She hung up the phone and left the room. In the elevator on the way back up, she thought about her situation with Farid. The smartest thing to do would be to take him out to the middle of nowhere and put a bullet in his head. That was what she
should
do. But that wasn’t going to happen. She had already given in to that fact.

So, then, what to do?

The doors to the elevator opened up. As she stepped out into the hall, a crazy idea popped into her head. She argued with herself the entire length of the hall, as she walked to the room.
There’s no way, Alex
.

Sure. It could work
.

What are you thinking! Are you mad?

No, I’m not mad! But I’m not going to kill him, either
.

This is crazy! You’re going to get yourself—and him—killed!

Maybe so. But at least I’ll be happy
.

She opened the door to the room and smiled. “Hey.”

Farid was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He had the television on and was sipping another cup of coffee. “Have you seen this?” he said, pointing to the screen.

“I caught a little bit of it last night. After you fell asleep.”

“This governor…Joe Nolan…has been on every news program all day long. He has really caused quite a stink. Do you think he could actually do what he’s talking about?”

She drew in a breath and let it out. She sat down on the bed between him and the television. She grabbed the remote and clicked it off. While she’d told him most of the details of why she was there and everything that had happened, she still hadn’t given him the grand scope of everything. It was time to do that now. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Farid sighed and turned his head away. “Alex…please. Don’t do this.”

She was confused. “Do what?”

“This…you know. Tell me that you have to leave. That we can’t be together.”

She started laughing. “Farid, that’s not what this is.”

“It—it isn’t?”

“No!” She reached down and grabbed his hand. “Not at all. Actually, quite the opposite. Listen, I’ve been thinking. What I do is dangerous. Obviously.” She pointed to her shoulder and her side. “If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead. And that got me to thinking. What if I had a partner, such as yourself, with your skills?”

“Partner?”

“Yes, think about it! We could travel together. I could take assignments. You could help out when I needed it. And if anything should go wrong…” She smiled. “Well, you’d be there to take care of it. Just like you have been.”

Farid let go of her hand. His eyes shifted away.

“Farid?”

“Why can’t you just stop? I mean, why can’t we just disappear? Go somewhere where no one would ever find us?”

“I thought about that, too. And here’s what I’ve decided. After this job, we can go anywhere you want. For a while. But this is who I am. Eventually, someone will come calling for my services. And when they do, I can’t promise that I won’t take the job.”

Farid seemed to think about it for a moment. “Would I have to, you know…kill anyone?”

“I would not ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But what if that’s what you needed from me?”

“Then it would be up to you.”

Farid sat there, silent for a few seconds.

“Okay. I’ll do it. But you’re going to have to teach me how to do what you do.”

She leaned in and kissed him. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Starting now. Get dressed.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“I have a meeting in a little while. You’re going with me.”

CHAPTER 48
Washington, DC

K
eene picked Boz up at his house at nine o’clock sharp. He’d already been up since five and had been to the hospital to sit with Megan. The doctors didn’t have any answers for him. Megan was still unconscious, though her body seemed to be healing well.

After leaving Jennings’s office yesterday, he and Boz had gone to see someone Keene thought could help them. But he hadn’t been home. They’d waited around for an hour, but he still never showed up. Keene figured the guy was probably at some comic-book store or something, wasting his life away. That’s the kind of guy he was. A complete geek. They decided to head back to Bethesda to check in on Megan and Eli and try Keene’s friend again in the morning.

Keene honked the horn as he pulled in to Boz’s drive. Boz came out a second later carrying a backpack and jumped in the truck.

“You ready?”

Boz threw his backpack in the back. “Yep. Let’s roll.”

“What’s in there?”

Boz just smiled at him. “I got you a present.”

“Nice! What is it?”

“I’ll show you later. Let’s go.”

“Nope. No way. Give it up.”

Boz reached back and grabbed the bag. He unzipped it and pulled out a two-tone, custom Covert II, Kimber 1911. Complete with night sights and Crimson Trace Lasergrips.

Keene took the pistol and turned it over in his hands. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

“That was my brother’s. He was killed in Afghanistan in 2009.”

Keene swallowed hard and handed the gun back. “Boz, I can’t take this.”

“Something wrong with it?”

“No it’s—it’s perfect. It’s beautiful. I just told you that. It’s just—”

Boz pushed the pistol back to Keene. “Please, take it. I would be honored for you to have it. And if my brother had ever had a chance to know you, he would’ve wanted the same thing.”

Keene reluctantly took the Kimber. “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

Boz patted him on the shoulder. “Welcome home, Jon.”

Keene put the truck in Drive and took off.

Twenty minutes later, Keene pulled into the same alleyway they had visited yesterday. As he got out, he saw Boz checking his weapon and scanning the area around.

“You reminded me of Megan just then.”

Boz turned toward him. “How’s that?”

“She did the same thing when I brought her here.”

Boz laughed a little. “See? I told you she was sharp.”

Keene crossed the alleyway and began banging on the door of one of the buildings. “Artie, open up.”

Nothing.

“You think he’s still gone?” Boz asked.

Keene shook his head. “He’s here.” He pointed down the alleyway to a rusted out Honda Civic. “Unless he sold it to a neighbor, that’s his jalopy there.” He banged on the door again. “Artie! Open this door. Or I’m going to shoot the handle off with my brand new .45 and let myself in.”

Keene heard the latches on the inside being turned. A moment later, the door opened up.

“Holy crap—Keene! Man, I thought you were dead.”

Keene pushed the door open and stepped inside. “You couldn’t get that lucky.” He turned back around and motioned for Boz to follow. “Artie, this is Boz. Boz, Artie.”

“What are you doing here, dude?”

Keene turned around and gave him a cold stare.

“I—I mean, I’m glad you’re alive,” Artie stammered. “But what are you doing
here?”

Keene continued down the hall and into the living quarters. He sat down on the couch and said, “We need your help again.”

That seemed to calm Artie down. “Whew! Okay…good. For a minute there I thought I was in trouble.”

“Why?” Boz asked. “What have you been doing?”

Artie looked at Boz and then back to Keene. “Who is he again? And where’s your other partner? You know—that hot FBI agent you came in here with last time.”

Keene bit his lip. He knew Artie couldn’t know what had happened to Megan. And his candor was…well, it was just Artie. “She’s had an accident. She’s in the hospital.”

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