Page 46 of Be Courageous

Personal call?Working his way through proposed legislative revisions, Len tore himself from the tome lying open on the desk in front of him. His heart gave a funny flip as he considered whether the call might have anything to do with Ruby Bonheur’s disappearance—of course not. No one would have connected him to her abduction, and Cullum would have called his cell phone, as he’d done earlier to report the abduction successful.

Brushing off his prickle of concern, Len punched the correct line and picked up the receiver. “Katz speaking.”

“Len, this is a blast from the past. James Monteague here. We worked together in Afghanistan, when I was with SEAL Team Two. You knew me as Monty, remember?”

However friendly sounding, the baritone voice of the golden-haired lieutenant who’d followed his orders in Operation Lights Out doused Len in uneasiness. “Monty.” He searched for his usual glib tongue. “Of course. What a great surprise. How the heck are you?”

“Well, I’ve been better, Len. Don’t know if you heard about it, but one of the guys in our old squad was murdered just down the road from you, in his old neighborhood in Philly—John Staskiewicz, went by Stasky. Remember him?”

Len’s mouth went desert dry. “Sure, I remember Stasky. I hadn’t heard that news. What happened?”

“Some thugs broke into his house and shot him in his sleep.”

“Oh, wow, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, I’m on my way to his funeral. It’ll take place Sunday at eleven at Palmer Cemetery in Fishtown, where he’s from. Now that you know about it, maybe I’ll run into you there.”

“Oh, well, I’d have to look at my calendar. Awfully nice of you to pay your respects, though. I take it you and Stasky have stayed in touch?” What if all the SEALs had collaborated against him and not just John? The phone went slippery in his sweating hand.

“No, not really.”

Relief left Len weak.

“But, you know, we’re a tight-knit community, which is probably why John left me this book he’d written. I’m not sure what to do with it.”

The blood in Len’s veins turned to ice as his fears became manifest. That exposé John Staskiewicz had threatened to write if he became lieutenant governor—it must have made it farther than Stasky’s computer, stolen and destroyed the night he’d been killed. Len had acted too late.

“Oh?” His voice cracked.

“It’s all about that op that went bad, Operation Lights Out.”

Len cringed. This couldn’t be happening.

“Stasky described you as a cold-blooded killer, Len. You know we SEALs take the code of silence seriously, but John didn’t care much for your politics. It’s pretty clear he intended for his book to halt your ascent up the political ladder.”

Len drew a shaky breath. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Well, that depends. As it turns out, you’ve got something I need. Maybe we can strike a deal.”

“What have I got?” Sweat made Len’s shirt stick to his back. The man had the gall to blackmail him?

“The journalist, Ruby Bonheur. I’ll give you the manuscript in exchange for her safe return.”

The walls of Len’s office seemed to shimmer like the sand in the desert. “I’ve never heard of her.” His thoughts raced. How had Monty put two and two together so quickly? Perhaps the four-man firing squad had planned to betray him all along and they’d recruited the journalist to help them publicize their allegations.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.” Monty’s voice hardened. “Unfortunately, what you didn’t know when you arranged to make her disappear is that Ruby Bonheur is my sister-in-law.”

Len swallowed hard. Right. He hadn’t known that.

“And as much as I’d like to honor John’s memory by seeing his book published and your career go up in smoke, my wife would throw me out if I didn’t get her sister back safe and sound. So here’s my offer, Len…”

With Monty’s ultimatum sounding in his right ear, Len stared dazedly out the window.

“You show up at Palmer Cemetery on Sunday morning with Ruby Bonheur sitting safely in your car; I’ll show up with the manuscript, and we’ll do a trade. How’s that? You get to salvage your career, and I get to salvage my marriage. Fair enough?”

Len gave one more stab at protesting his innocence. “I already told you this, Monty. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you leave me no choice. I’ll make copies of the manuscript right now and mail them toThe Washington PostandThe New York Times. You’ll be a political pariah by Sunday morning. Good talking to you, Len.”

---