Stone Cold (Camel Club 3)

“Why do you think that?”

“They were the ones who turned him in. And now he’s exacting his revenge.”

“Why would he wait three decades for that?”

“I can only speculate there, and that would hardly be a good use of your time, sir. However, there’s only one man who had grievances against all three, and that’s John Carr.”

“And he tried to kill you? Why?”

“I managed his unit. I was the one who brought him up on internal charges, in fact.”

“You ordered him terminated?”

“My superiors did with, as I said, all appropriate authorization.” Gray told this lie as though it was perfectly true. Perhaps he had convinced himself it was.

“Are these superiors still around?”

“No, all dead. As is, as you know, the president in office at the time.”

“How does this tie into Solomon and this Lesya person?”

“That was the reason Carr was terminated. We believed he’d been turned by Solomon and Lesya.”

“But Solomon died. Suicide, I think the report said.”

“Yes, but presumably Lesya is still out there. And I recall that Carr and Lesya had grown especially close. They could be working together now.”

“Why would this Lesya help Carr kill the CIA’s former Triple Sixes?”

Inwardly Gray sighed. This president was not as stupid as others he’d served under. “Let’s put it this way, sir. Rayfield Solomon officially committed suicide. But that’s only the official version. It could be that he had help.”

“Help? From us?”

“He was a traitor, sir. He cost many Americans their lives. He would’ve been executed in any event. He’s on the ‘Wall of Shame’ at Langley next to Aldrich Ames and other spies. The lives he cost this country, incalculable. A venomous traitor if ever there was one.” It pained even Gray’s hardened conscience to say these things about his deceased friend, but Solomon was dead. Gray wanted to remain alive.

“So we terminated him, too!”

“It was, as you said, a different world then. I for one applaud the more open and public face of the CIA and the government in general that we have today. But back then we were fighting against the possible annihilation of the world.”

“So Carr and Lesya may be out there. Anyone else on their target list?”

“Only one—Roger Simpson.”

“That’s right, he was with the CIA way back. So Roger was involved with this?”

“Only tangentially. We’ve taken appropriate precautions to ensure his safety.”

“I certainly hope so. We don’t have much of a majority in the senate. Every vote counts.”

Gray’s features remained inscrutable, but his mind did reflect for a moment on the president’s concern for maintaining a majority in the Senate over the life of an individual senator. “Certainly,” he said. “I can see why that’s important to you.”

The president said quickly, “Of course a man’s life has to take priority.”

“I never doubted that,” Gray said. He suddenly wondered if there were recorders in the room and the commander in chief was making that statement for posterity.

“So what do you propose? John Carr’s name has been all over the news. The man must’ve heard about it by now. I don’t think I would have done it that way, Carter. I would’ve kept it on the QT while I hunted for him.”

The president didn’t know that Gray knew exactly where John Carr lived and that he was now known as Oliver Stone. Stone certainly would have found out by now that his grave had been dug up and his secret exposed. He was no doubt now on the run. As quick-witted as the man was, he’d also probably deduced that Gray was alive and actually plotting against him. Gray could have kept it on the QT, and then simply gone to Stone’s cottage and arrested him. Or killed him. But he couldn’t do that, because Stone had a piece of incriminating evidence against him. And Gray wanted it back. Now he had something to bargain with: the evidence in exchange for letting John Carr live. He had wanted Carr to know. He had wanted Carr to go on the run, with Gray’s men keeping him on a long leash. It would make him more amenable to negotiating.

Gray said, “In hindsight that would probably be the best strategy. But we have to keep in mind that we need to avoid dredging up a lot of Cold War history with Solomon, Lesya and the others. Russia is in a fragile state right now, and the last thing we want is for accounts of our old skirmishes to surface. Frankly, sir, both sides played dirty back then, and public sentiment needs to be kept in check here and in Russia. Contact has been made with the Russians and they understand what is at stake. They’ve pledged their support to eliminating the problem.”

“Of course. Well, you can count on my full support too, Carter. Good to have you back in the saddle. Never understood why you resigned in the first place.”

“Perhaps neither did I.” And I never would have if it hadn’t been for John Carr.

Gray was taken by chopper back to his bunker. He looked out the window of the helicopter as it soared along over the Maryland countryside. Down there Carr was running hard, with Gray’s men right behind. And Lesya’s son was probably planning his next attack: on that same John Carr. Which was why Gray had wanted this to become public; he wanted Carr to become a target.

Now all he had to do was get to Carr first, pretend to give him back his life in exchange for the evidence, and then Lesya’s son could have him. And then they would kill the son and Lesya and finally put an end to this once and for all. As for Roger Simpson, he didn’t care whether the man survived or not.

Admittedly, it was a complicated plan. Yet in Gray’s world, nothing seemed to be simple.

CHAPTER 60

WHEN ANNABELLE RETURNED to the hotel, Paddy was waiting for her in her room.

She sniffed the air. “You haven’t been smoking.”

“I tossed them in the trash can.”

“Why?”

“I need to be in fighting shape when we go up against Bagger.”

He looked so determined and yet so frail, like a stubborn little boy hell-bent on standing up to a bully, that for an instant Annabelle’s heart went out to him. She felt her hand reach out and touch him on the shoulder. And then the moment passed and she withdrew her fingers.

Yes, he was dying. Yes, he hadn’t technically let her mother die. But he was not suddenly the greatest father on earth. And he would be dead in six months. She was not going to let herself go down that road. She had grieved long and painfully for her mother’s passing. She would not do the same for him.

“Any luck with getting us some help?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Secret Service agent, Alex Ford. Oliver asked him to step in.”

“This bloke Oliver has some damn fine connections. Who the hell is he? I mean, living at a graveyard and all.”

“I’m not really sure who he is,” Annabelle said truthfully.