The Target (Will Robie 3)

“Did you really expect anything more generous than that?” said Tucker skeptically. “You want to begin to wipe the slate clean of what you did, then suck it up, finish up here, and successfully execute the upcoming mission. If you want to cut and run, then that’s a whole other ball game. Your choice. But make it now. I don’t have time to waste.”

“Is that why you’re here?” asked Robie. “To deliver the ultimatum?”

“No, I’m here to finally lay to rest any misconception you two might have about my motives. You were not sent here to be killed. I’m far too busy to even have time to think about something like that. The fact is, in the grand scheme of things none of us is that important. Now, we have an opportunity to do something that will make the world a far better, far safer place. I need to know that you’re with me on this one thousand percent, or I have no use for you at all. Again, your decision. And again, I need it now.”

He once more quieted and looked at them.

Robie was the first to speak. “I’m in.”

Reel nodded. “Me too.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tucker rose, opened the door, and was gone.

Before Reel and Robie could even say a word they heard the sounds of someone else approaching.

A few moments later an orderly wheeled a cart in. It was loaded with breakfast foods and a carafe of coffee. Another orderly brought in two foldable chairs. They set up the table, laid out the food and coffee, and departed.

Reel and Robie had not moved the entire time. Finally, they looked at each other.

“You think there’s cyanide in it?” he asked.

“I don’t care. I’m starving.”

They rose, sat down in the chairs, and attacked the food and drank down the hot coffee. They said nothing as they devoured the meal.

Then they sat back looking both satisfied and energized.

Reel said, “You can never overestimate the effect of a good meal on one’s spirits.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’s just that they’re fattening the calf before leading it to slaughter.”

“So that was our last meal before execution?”

“Wish I could tell you one way or another,” Robie replied. “Before Tucker showed up, I was pretty sure we were done for. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Strange he came all this way to tell us something we already knew.”

“You think he was sincere?”

“Give me a break. He was lying his ass off.”

“For what reason?” asked Robie.

“Spies lie. And he’s probably covering his butt on the waterboarding thing.”

“Did he need to? It’s not like we belong to a union and can file a grievance.”

Footsteps sounded again, and each of them instinctively gripped the knives next to their plates. However, it was merely the orderly retrieving the table. Another escort was with him. He led them to the showers, where they cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes.

As they were walked back to their room Reel whispered into Robie’s ear, “This is freaking me out more than the waterboarding. Why are they being nice to us?”

Robie whispered back, “Maybe Tucker gave the word.”

“Like I believe that.”

Four hours passed before someone came for them again. They were told to change into running gear. Then they were taken by Jeep to a remote part of the facility, deep within the forest, and dropped off.

The weather wasn’t bad. In the forties, a little overcast, but the sun was high in the sky and warming. Robie calculated it was about two o’clock in the afternoon.

After the vehicle drove off, someone stepped onto the path from behind some trees. They turned to see who it was.

Amanda Marks stood there wearing a running suit and Nikes.

“I trust you’re well fed and rested?” she said.

“And clean,” said Reel. “Let’s not forget that.”

“Then let’s take a run, shall we?” Without waiting for their answer, Marks turned and jogged off.

Robie and Reel glanced confusedly at one another before joining her, he on the right, she on the left.

“So did you know Tucker was coming down today?” asked Reel.

“At the last minute. What did he want to talk to you about?”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” asked Robie.

“If he had I wouldn’t be asking you.”

“He wanted to let us know our being here was not part of a personal vendetta. He said we were waterboarded not in order to facilitate a confession, because there was no such thing, but rather to make sure we could withstand it in case we were captured.”

“And did you believe him?” asked Marks.

“Would you?” Reel shot back.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. He’s a more complicated person than I initially thought.”

“I don’t trust him,” said Reel.

“If I were in your position, I wouldn’t trust him either,” replied Marks.

Reel said, “I take it the food and rest and showers were your doing?”

“Well, they certainly weren’t the DCI’s, or Andrew Viola’s initiative.”

“Viola,” said a surprised Reel. “He’s involved in this?”

“I thought you would have recognized his voice at the little waterboarding session. You two overlapped here, right? And I know you were in the field with him on a couple of missions.”

“That’s right, but I didn’t recognize the voice.”

“Probably had your mind on other things,” said Marks dryly. She looked at Robie. “Do you know Viola?”

“Only by reputation. He’s really good.”

“Rock-solid warrior who never wavers from the playbook,” replied Marks.

Reel and Robie exchanged a quick glance. Reel said, “Is that why we’re out here jogging in the middle of the forest? So we can talk candidly?”

“Let me put it this way. I already ran ten miles this morning. So from a physical fitness point of view there’s no reason for me to be out here.”

“So Viola is a team player,” said Robie.

“And you’re not?” added Reel.

“Didn’t say that,” replied Marks. “I am a team player.”

“And the little near-drowning session last night?” noted Reel.

“Not my call. And I wasn’t picked to run it. That’s where Viola stepped in.”

“Surprised I hadn’t seen him at the facility before,” said Reel inquiringly.

“He was just called back in from temp duty elsewhere,” answered Marks.

“By Evan Tucker?” asked Robie, swinging his arms loosely and popping his neck as they ran along at a comfortable pace.

“Don’t know for sure, but I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Viola is a high-level asset. He wouldn’t be called in by a midlevel grunt. And I certainly didn’t do it as the DD.”

“So why wouldn’t Tucker rely on you to do the dirty work?” Robie wanted to know.

Reel added, “Did you refuse to waterboard us?”

Marks ran along for another thirty feet before answering. “He never asked me to.”

“And if he had?” Reel persisted. “What would you have done?”

“I never agreed with torturing bad guys, much less our own agents.”

“Well, undoubtedly Tucker was aware of that,” said Robie. “And didn’t bother to ask you to do it. Obviously, Viola had no issue with doing it.”