Julie Bracco packed the last of her things and dropped her bag on the living room floor. She looked at Matt and Jennifer Steele cuddled up on the couch watching the evening news.
“Anything else on?” she said, pulling her hair back into a tight bun. A local Payson reporter stood a distance away from the abandoned KSF safe house. The news crew had illuminated the scene for the viewers and offered Nick’s written statement announcing the terrorists’ escape, the death of Deputy Luke Fletcher, and the possibility of Kurdish militants still operating in the vicinity. Nick had given the news media FBI’s hotline number to report any suspicious behavior. Meanwhile, he had the Baltimore Field Office e-mail over pictures of Temir Barzani and a couple of his known soldiers.
Matt sat with his hand on his forehead seemingly in complete disgust with the report, as if being forced to relive the day was too much for him. He pushed the remote and found a college basketball game on ESPN.
Steele yawned. “Well, I’m about ready for bed.” She looked at Matt with raised eyebrows and held out her hand.
“You need real sleep,” Walt called from the kitchen with his paternal voice. He was scraping up the remains of a salad Julie had made for dinner.
Matt grinned mischievously and took her hand. He looked at Walt and said, “Yes, Dad.” Then he followed Steele into the guest bedroom.
Julie frowned. Even though her house had bloodstains and a bullet hole through her bedroom window, she was sad to leave. The front door opened and Nick came in with shoulders slumped. He’d just met with Luke Fletcher’s family.
Nick came over and brushed a loose hair from Julie’s face.
“I’m going to miss you,” he said.
“You take your meds, understand? Dr. Morgan said you can regress if you miss any dosages. I have them all laid out on the bathroom counter,” she said. “And I already have the coffee machine set to go at six. Make sure you-”
Nick placed his index finger on her lips. “Shh. I know that’s your way of telling me you love me.”
Julie looked surprised. “You’ve been reading that book I gave you, haven’t you?”
“Every word.”
“Then you know how important it is to listen to your wife when she’s giving you instructions.”
Nick leaned over and kissed her on the tip of her nose. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said.
Walt washed his salad plate in the kitchen sink, then took a circuitous route to the front door and lingered there, obviously waiting for Julie.
“I really need to leave?’ she asked.
Nick nodded. “I just don’t have enough people to keep you safe, sweetie. I had to beg for a couple of deputies from Globe to watch the office while we figured out what to do with Semir.”
She wrapped her arms around her husband and whispered, “Please be careful, baby.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got it under control.”
She pulled back, looked at his bandaged shoulder and almost said something.
Tommy’s voice came over a radio sitting on the counter between the kitchen and living room. “We have visitors.”
Nick and Walt immediately pulled out their pistols as Matt flew out of the bedroom, shirt off, gun ready.
“Relax,” Tommy said. “They’re friendly.”
It was Tommy’s turn to watch the perimeter of the house. A chorus of engines could be heard coming up the driveway. Walt opened the door and smiled.
“You’ll want to see this,” he said.
Nick and Julie walked over to the doorway. Idling in the semicircle gravel driveway were three camouflage Humvees. Their headlights pierced through the night with intimidation as dust from their tires floated over their beams. A thin, wiry soldier jumped from the passenger seat, pulled off his cap and saluted the trio in the doorway.
“Major Flynn, Special Forces, Fort Benson, Arizona,” he said, dropping his hand after the salute. “I’m looking for Nick Bracco.”
Nick walked out onto the porch and stepped down the two steps to shake the major’s hand. “I’m Nick,” he said.
The three Humvees sat motionless, their engines simmering with power, like a heard of rhinos waiting to charge.
“Mr. Bracco, sir,” Major Flynn said. “I have orders from the Commander-in-Chief to make our squadron available to you for any duty necessary.”
Nick turned to Julie and smiled. “Well, honey, it looks like you’ll be staying.”
It was almost midnight when Ed Tolliver finally rolled into bed. After getting the news about Carl and Katherine Rutherford, he’d had a hard time getting to sleep. Even with a team of agents protecting his home, he still felt uneasy. He’d been briefed about the Russian assassin and knew how dangerous the man could be, but he refused to go to a safe house across town, so they brought the protection to him. His cell phone chirped in the kitchen and he peeked over at his wife to make certain she didn’t wake. He hopped out of bed and scrambled down the hallway to get to the phone before it woke the kids.
FBI agent Rolley Chandler was already standing at the counter with Ed’s phone in his hand. Chandler studied the display for a moment, then frowned and handed it to Tolliver.
“Private caller,” Chandler said, looking disappointed.
Tolliver took the phone and headed into the guest bedroom on the opposite side of the house from his family’s bedrooms. He didn’t mind his fellow agents protecting him, but he didn’t like certain areas of his life intruded upon. Under any circumstance.
“This is Ed,” Tolliver said in a near whisper.
“Hi,” came the female voice.
Tolliver froze. He immediately glanced out into the hallway, then closed the bedroom door and sat on the guest bed.
“What are you doing?” he said in a hushed tone.
Vicki Peters sounded nervous. “I uh … needed to talk.”
“Are you crazy?” he said. “Don’t you know what time it is?”
“Yes, I know.”
Tolliver’s head began to pound. He rubbed his temple. “Listen,” he said, “now’s not the time for this. Don’t ever do this to me again.”
There was a pause, then, “It’s over Ed,” she said. Her voice was shaky and seemed genuinely upset.
“What?” Tolliver’s voice pitched an octave higher than normal. “What do you mean? I thought we agreed,” he said, groping for the right words. “The twins are gone in two months. That’s just sixty days. You mean you can’t wait sixty days?”
“No, Ed, I can’t wait sixty minutes,” she said with a little ugliness to her tone.
Tolliver couldn’t believe this was happening. He moved even farther away from the door and placed a pillow to his cheek covering up his phone and drowning out his voice from eavesdroppers. “C’mon now, Vicki, what’s going on? Why now?”
“Because,” she said, “I’ve met someone else.”
Now Tolliver’s heart began to thump irregularly. “What? Are you kidding? When?”
“A few weeks ago,” she said. “I just can’t wait any longer, Ed. I’ve done it for too long.”
“But … but,” Tolliver didn’t know what to say. He had been completely blindsided. “Let’s talk about this, okay?”
“Sorry,” she said, “when you say let’s talk about it, you mean next week or tomorrow. My tomorrows are going to belong to someone else. Someone who deserves my tomorrows.”
“Oh, come on, you sound like you’ve been reading a Maya Angelo novel.” Tolliver glanced at the door. He was pretty sure agent Chandler would have his back if the wife suddenly woke up. “Let’s get together for lunch and-”
“No,” she said. “No more. I’m going to go now.”
“Wait.” Tolliver stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Wait, baby, please. I’ll meet you …” he noticed the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:47. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“In thirty one minutes you’ll be too late.”
Tolliver put the phone down from his ear and stood there in the dark. His life was falling apart. Someone wanted him dead and his lover wanted to leave him. His foot tapped involuntarily; he was thinking about how to work it out.
Vicki Peters pushed the end button, then handed her phone to the man next to her. She was trembling. The man had already sliced open her beagle, Josie, leaving her on the dining room table with her guts heaped in a pile next to her. The man had forced her to look at Josie during the entire phone conversation. Blood had begun to spread across the table and drip over the side onto the tile floor. Vicki had already vomited twice and was about to purge again. She gripped her stomach in agony.
“Good girl,” the man said. “You did exactly as I asked you.”
“Please,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears. “Please let me go now. You promised.”
He looked down with a serious expression, as if considering his options. When his head came up, the knife came with it. She didn’t even have time to scream.