Albatross (35 page)

Davis answered without hesitation. It was clear she had been reading as much as she could about him. “He was the best. He was excellent at what he did and never failed a mission. What was also clear, though, was that he liked to leave a lot of bodies around in addition to his target. It was his calling card. The more bodies on the ground, the better he seemed to feel. A psych report I read a billion years ago pegged him as a sociopath. That’s why I can’t figure him out now. He is totally different,” Davis said before her voice trailed off.

“Sounds to me like that head injury might have given our guy a heart or a sense of duty or honor or loyalty. It looks like he put his friends over his own needs and his country,” Helms offered.

“Some could call that treason,” Davis baited.

“What do you call it, Jill? Some guy, sociopath or not, who was trying to do the right thing and kill a bad guy and won’t just follow orders to ‘go along to get along’ and is seen as a problem? You know the guy. Burns wanted Sudani dead. Didn’t we all? And for being a stand-up guy at that one moment, he is nearly killed, and everyone who tried to help him was attacked and killed. Is that treason? Or a guy who decides his needs and wants are secondary to doing something right? He is now a concerned citizen who just wants to be left alone. We know your guys won’t let this lie. Do you want to be ahead of it or just watch freedom die and innocents be sacrificed and labeled terrorists?”

Andersen became distracted.
Jill? Is that really her first name?
he wondered.

Davis’s pacing had slowed down as Helms made his point. She was standing still in the middle of her living room turned gym. She was weighing it all. She was fiddling with her necklace again.
That necklace has to have meaning to her. I wonder if it calms her or is a burden. It does mean something, though,
Andersen concluded.

“What about him?” Davis asked, pointing to Andersen.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t agree. I may not know everything about Burns and Caulfield, but I know it would be better for all parties if cooler heads prevailed and we found him first. I know Helms, and I don’t have a vested interest in Burns’s death. Just the truth. What about you, Davis? Do you want him dead, or do you want the truth?” Andersen had to ask the obvious question. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone in law enforcement had wanted revenge. Davis had both the skill and motivation to do it too. Andersen needed to know that he wouldn’t be used again to kill Burns.

“For now, I want the truth. If Burns produces more of this shit,” Davis said as she pointed to the classified documents, “then I am on his side. I am not just willing to hold hands and put flowers into gun barrels. If I get more proof, I will provide him with more support than he would imagine.”

Andersen looked at Helms and asked, “Is that her way of saying she’s in?”

“I think so. She not very good with being clear and really sucks with her people skills.”

“Does she at least shower and clean up good? Every time I see her, she looks like shit,” Andersen asked.

“Hey! I’m in the room, guys,” Davis said, “and I am also armed.”

For the first time, Andersen saw Davis smile. Helms sat back in the chair and sat right up again. Something had clearly poked his butt. He pulled a full magazine for Davis’s handgun out from his backside.

“Really, Davis? Really?” was the only thing Helms could say.

Chapter 21

It had been seven
months since Burns had left Massachusetts. He had stayed in one place no more than three days for two months to make sure he stayed off the grid and he was not followed. His conversation with Andersen had gone as well as one could expect. He knew it had to be nerve-racking to have a person like him and his team involved in your personal life. Maybe that thought would keep them all at bay. But Burns never really believed his old bosses would leave him alone. Since he had left his team, he had been strategizing the next series of scenarios that he would need to implement to keep ahead of the floodwaters building up just beyond the dam. He wanted to keep David, Becky, and Emma out of the main task force and use them, if at all, solely as backup and research. That was why he wanted them to accelerate their plan to get out of Canada and go to Europe. He had plans for Sam; however, it was clear that she had plans of her own, and she would not be sidelined. After two weeks, Sam arrived at a designated meet, and then they were supposed to go their separates for another month and return later to “spend time together.” She wanted nothing to do with that plan; she was going to be with him now. She had one backpack and a purse, and she was dressed to “fit in” as she was always capable of doing when she had to. Burns attempted to argue with her, but she did that thing of agreeing with every word he said as she stepped closer to him, narrowing the gap between them, lips inches away from each other, her looking straight into his eyes. He gave up, and she had been with him ever since.

Burns felt the happiest when they were in bed together. It wasn’t just the sex; it was something about how they talked to each other. Sometimes they would just read together. Sometimes they would just have dinner out, and he would lose track of time.

Out of habit, Burns monitored the
Merrimack Valley Times
newspaper for local chatter about a prior hot zone. He would check the local town events, schedules, death notices, police logs and personal ads. There was one personal ad that stood out, one that Burns knew was a message for him and his team:

ISO missing friend who loved
Rime of Ancient Mariner
like me last May. The craziness happened in the MV, and we never finished our conversation, and his friends can’t be found. Did enjoy our last phone call though and hope to talk, even though family is angry about our relationship. Hope to hear back soon. You know the number. L. T. Andy.”

“Not really subtle, is it?” Samantha said after she read the message.

“It’s actually good. You would need to know Coleridge is the author of the
Rime
and make reference to our crew, the time, and actually sign it with L. T. Andy, meaning Lieutenant Andersen.”

“So what does it mean? ‘Hoping to talk, even though family is angry about our relationship’ is a good thing?” Samantha asked.

Burns looked over at Samantha, who had just finished dying her hair dark. He wanted to say that she had overshot her goal of light brunette to raven black but decided it would be safer to smile instead.

Samantha suddenly looked up at him with her two distinctive eyes and said sharply, “What? What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Nothing. Just looking at you. Kind of sensitive, aren’t you?” Burns lied.

“Hmm.” Samantha walked back in the bathroom to finish drying her hair.

David did remind him that it was not a lie when your spouse asked if something looked good and it didn’t but you said otherwise. David quickly added, “But never let them go out in public if they might be embarrassed and you didn’t try to stop it.”

Burns had to assess if Samantha would be too embarrassed if her hair was too dark.
Relationships can be really difficult
, Burns thought.

Burns turned his attention back to the ad, and he was positive about what it meant. The code and its location was a field agent’s method of communication with either individual contractors or operatives in deep cover.

“I think Andersen has found someone in my old shop that he can trust and has something he needs to let me know, even though his superiors would not agree and support him,” Burns yelled to Samantha

“Maybe it’s a setup, and they want you to bite,” Samantha offered when she returned. Burns appreciated Samantha’s healthy dose of paranoia.

“No … Andersen would not want to risk harm to his family. Something must be brewing, and he wants to get to us first before something goes south,” Burns concluded.

Samantha actually agreed with Burns. It made sense. Burns went on, “I think I will respond tomorrow. Can you let Becky know about this? I am sure everything will be fine, but I want them ‘on station’ and ready to move if they have to.”

“Already covered. It’s Emma’s birthday next week, and I was going to contact her anyway.”

Burns smiled. He and Sam were planning a visit in three months.
Maybe it will be sooner than later
, Burns thought.

Andersen could not believe he had placed a personal ad in the local paper. What he had written made sense, he guessed, but it really seemed too Cold War, like something you would read in a post-World War II or Korean Conflict spy novel.

“I know you think it’s silly, but if he is out there and he follows protocol, he will still monitor a recent hot zone for at least six to eight months, at which point he will see it and respond in about two days,” Davis explained.

Davis was looking better than Andersen remembered her the first time after her fight with Burns. She was no longer part of the foreign intelligence agency, and she was now a private contractor who held a contract with the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Boston. Her assignment was “research and follow-up of last spring’s crisis in the Merrimack Valley.” She was now working directly with Deputy Director Helms with support from the North Reading Police Department. Davis had grown on Andersen. He had Davis meet him once at his home, and his wife insisted that she stay for dinner. It was awkward, but he saw a more sensitive side of her; she seemed to enjoy being in a family situation. Andersen had to stop Laura’s efforts for matchmaking. Much to Andersen’s surprise, Davis did not reject the idea outright. It was a thought that Andersen could not get out of his head—Davis on a date.

“Okay, Davis. We’ll do it your way. But if I get some love-starved, literate, Coleridge-loving Generation X response, you will need to field that one,” Andersen warned.

“No worries. I have been interested in dating again, and this might meet two objectives at the same time,” Davis countered.

“Is that how you think of dating? An objective? How do you meet anyone?” Andersen asked.

“I only date to have sex—” Davis started.

Andersen shook his head. This was the very reason he had had Laura stop her search for a man for Davis. As if she had been reading his mind, Davis had started to mess with him: “You know, Laura wants me to meet a nurse she knows that works third shift. It could work schedule-wise. We would see each other only in the afternoon, have coffee, sex, some conversation.” Davis was smiling as she spoke.

“Okay, Davis. That is way more than I need to know. I’ll call you when I hear something. Now get out of here. I have to find some work to distract me from the thought of you having sex,” Andersen said, suddenly standing up and escorting Davis out of his office.

Davis smiled, and she had to confess, “Helms was right. If I knew talking about me having sex would shut you up, I would have done that a while ago. Helms is brilliant for a former jarhead.”

“Yeah … he’s a real fucking genius,” Andersen concluded and then shut his door with Davis on the other side.

Andersen turned and stopped as he was positive he heard Davis laughing outside his door until it started to recede.
God, she’s a pain in the ass
, he thought.

He returned to his desk and reviewed his voice mail. There was a message from Diane Welch, commandant of the state troopers. Her husband had died five months ago, and he had called her a couple of times to get together for lunch. Andersen had been seriously thinking about having her assist in the plan to reengage Burns again; it made sense based on her skill set in terrorism and counterterrorism, not to mention her combat experience in Afghanistan. Also, Burns was clear that if she had been in the mix back in May, she would have been a force to contend with in regards to completing his mission. That was a ringing endorsement of her abilities, and Andersen wanted her on his team. Helms agreed it made sense to recruit Welch, and that was why he called her. Since her husband’s death, she had decided to “take time off” from work. God knows she had a lot of vacation time accrued; she had never missed a day of work in her career until her husband had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died within six months of that fateful diagnosis. Andersen took a moment before he called her and enjoyed the silence. Andersen sometimes wondered how long the silence would last.