Page 38 of Heston
“This is getting us nowhere,” Asher grouched.
Heston pushed to his feet. “On the contrary. We need to get this intel to Alex so he’s prepared for whatever the Irishman demands of him next time he calls. H.R. 37 won’t become public law until the stalemate in Congress is resolved. If Alex has to vote—”
“He’ll never side with that stinkin’ Irishman,” Asher declared.
“Mr. Stewart’s no Benedict Arnold,” Tom agreed staunchly. “He might be the orneriest son of a bitch I’ve ever worked with, but he’ll die before he betrays his country.”
“He is that,” Heston agreed.
“What’d you say your boss’s name is, Ryan?” London snuck that question in as innocently as she could.
Malloy grunted. “Nope. Sorry, sugar pie, but nope, nope, nope. Not gonna tell you. Not gonna tell anyone. Ober… Ober-What’s-His-Name’ll kill me. Nope. Not telling you nuthin’ so stop winking at me. You ain’t that cute.”
London sat back on her butt and crossed her legs Indian-style. “Just like Bates said. Michael Obermeyer. The Secretary of State is the man who ordered Kelsey’s murder.”
“I never said that!” Malloy bellowed. “You’re lying! I never told nobody it was him. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
“Is he Irish?” Heston asked.
London stilled at that question. The name Obermeyer didn’t sound Irish, and if Heston was thinking Obermeyer was the Irishman, she doubted Obermeyer would’ve traveled across country from the East Coast just to give Alex a burner phone. For now, the Irishman was still an unknown quantity, but he needed to go down as much as Bates, Keane, Malloy, and now Obermeyer did. Talk about a conspiracy.
Malloy huffed. “Are you daft? Not everyone’s lucky enough to be Irish, you eedjit.”
Asher turned and growled, “Let’s shut the fuckers down. All of them. Now. Today. Come on, guys. The sooner we get this done, the better.”
He wasn’t wrong. “Not necessarily,” London said, mostly to herself.
Heston cocked his head and grinned at her. Tom was already staring at her.
She shrugged both shoulders. “I’ve read about Secretary of State Obermeyer. He’s a powerful man, Ash, and there’s rumors about mysterious deaths and missing bodies on his way to becoming Secretary of State. Can Alex Stewart take down this big of a politician? Is he powerful enough to overcome Obermeyer and his paid assassins? Look around us, guys.” She waved a hand at Bates and Malloy. “He’s got a network, not just a couple friends in high places. Look what he did to me. Alex doesn’t need to beaspowerful. He needs to bemorepowerful. Is he?”
Asher winced.
Tom crossed his arms over his chest and spread his boots. “Understand what you’re saying, London. And you’re right. Alex needs to get ahead of Obermeyer—somehow. I have no idea how he’ll do it, but he’s dealt with crooked politicians before. All you guys need to do is get these two jerks back to Alex before they end up dead, too.”
London watched Heston tug his cell phone up from one of his many pockets and thumb-dial a number. “Mark, Heston here,” he said, then paused. “Yeah. Soon as Deck shows, we’re on our way. Bringing a couple guests.” He nodded at her and paused again. “Yup, we’ll bring them in the back door as usual. Understood. Look for us at eight, but expect us at midnight. Also…” He went on to tell Mark about H.R. 37, the stalemate in Congress, Obermeyer’s backing Keane, and the death threat to London.
How she wished she could hear the other side of that conversation. She’d met Mark and his wife briefly at the hospital. They were an adorable couple. And to think he was as lethal a sniper as Heston, and his wife was a physician. Mind boggling.
Heston ended the call with, “Copy that.” He winked at London and announced, “We’re Oscar Mike, people. Get these two jokers ready to fly.”
Bates, who’d been quiet during the discussion, whined, “Uh-uh. I ain’t going nowhere.”
London couldn’t believe he’d take Bates and Malloy into the same hospital that housed Kelsey. It didn’t make sense, but instead of questioning him and making him explain, she threw her support behind him. “What Heston said goes, Devon. Tied to a helo skid or belted inside, your choice. But you’re going wherever Heston says.”
“You always were a bitch,” he sneered.
She stepped into his space, stuck a finger in his chest, and declared, “Yeah, well, I’m a live bitch. So move your ass!”
Chapter Eighteen
Look at that woman go.If they’d been alone, Heston would’ve kissed London after watching how she’d intimidated her former supervisor, then manhandled Bates onto the helo as quickly as Deck touched down. Then, while Asher secured Malloy, she’d harnessed Bates into the rear seat, which was extra thoughtful since his hands and ankles were cuffed. She’d run back and locked her camper, and asked Tom to watch over it until she returned. By then, Heston was already in the helo and the sun had set. There was just enough ambient light to watch London and Tom say a quick goodbye. No hug. No sign of emotional attachment between the two. Confirmed Heston’s opinion of Landry.
The mystified expression on London’s face when she climbed back up into the helo was priceless. She had no idea that‘Look for us at eight, but expect us at midnight’was simple TEAM code for four hours, the difference between eight and twelve pm, the amount of time it’d take Deck to get them to thebackdoor—aka TEAM HQ.
Alex didn’t need a face-to-face meeting with the men who’d tried to murder his wife. Not only did he not have time to fly across country, Alex would’ve killed both Malloy and Bates on sight if he did. Effective solution, yes. Justifiable murder, probably not. But killing suspects was no way to conduct interrogations, and Heston needed answers more than Alex needed revenge. The puppet master had to go down, not just his puppets. Heston wasn’t sure who that mastermind was. He suspected Obermeyer ran the show, as Malloy declared. But he hadn’t ruled Keane out, and the mysterious Irishman needed aname. There’d be no coming back from what Heston did next, so he needed to get it right the first time, for both Alex’s and Kelsey’s sakes.
Assisted by a steady jet stream, Pilot Decker Edison made it to Virginia, within the prerequisite four hours. Heston checked in with Mark, gave him names and the rest of the intel. Told him Malloy and Bates were in custody. That Obermeyer and Keane had contracted Malloy to murder Kelsey. That Malloy had, in turn, contracted Bates to kill London.
