Apocalypse Burning (32 page)

Goose thought about ignoring the statement but couldn’t because it was too impolite. He did feel uncomfortable discussing those events. People who had not been there had trouble understanding what had happened.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“During our discussions, we’ve never talked about that.” Danielle looked at Goose. “Did it happen the way I’ve heard?”

“I don’t know how you heard it, ma’am.”

“I was told that a delayed explosion from an earlier SCUD launch brought that mountain down that night,” she said. “And I was told that a demolitions team of Rangers or marines sped up into that mountain and planted explosives so the mountain would come down on the pursuing Syrian troops and block their advance.” She took a breath, her violet eyes searching his. “I also heard that Corporal Baker started reciting the Twenty-third Psalm and God knocked that mountain down on top of the Syrians.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Goose said. “I’ve heard all those stories, too.”

“Which one was it, First Sergeant?”

Goose deliberated, knowing he was stepping into uncertain territory.

“First Sergeant?”

“There was no demolitions team in the mountains,” Goose replied. “There wasn’t time. We were running flat-out when the way got jammed up and we got stuck.”

“So was it a SCUD or was it a psalm?”

“Are you putting this in a story, ma’am?”

Danielle was silent for a moment. “At this point, no. I’m trying to stick with things that I can prove or disprove. And I’m keeping focused on the ongoing war effort. I’m also trying to stay with stories that I understand.” She nodded toward Baker. “That’s why I’ve kept away from stories involving this church.”

“You don’t understand the church?”

“I understand church,” Danielle said. “I just don’t understand this one. I’ve been on battlefields before, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Neither have I,” Goose replied. “But then, we’ve never been involved in military action where a third of the world’s population disappeared overnight either.”

Now that the last person was baptized, the band struck up a modern Christian rock song that soon had everyone clapping and singing along. The sound was spiritually uplifting. If the debris of the city hadn’t started right outside the pool of light given off by the tent church, Goose would have sworn the gathering was more like the tent revivals he’d attended back in Waycross, Georgia.

“You didn’t answer my question, Goose,” Danielle said.

The use of his nickname came across a little too familiarly to Goose. He felt uncomfortable because of the questions and because of the attention the woman gave him.

“Was it a SCUD or a psalm?” Danielle repeated.

“Ma’am,” Goose said, “I never heard an explosion up in that mountain that night. I heard the voices of those men trapped up there, all of them probably certain they were going to die. And in the next moment, that mountain fell.”

“Like the walls of Jericho.” Danielle smiled.

“I wasn’t at Jericho. I couldn’t say.”

“Why is the CIA so interested in you?”

Goose looked at her, knowing instinctively from the confident tone in her voice that she knew something. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to deny that they are interested in you?”

“Do you want me to, ma’am?”

A surprised grin fitted itself to Danielle’s face. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

Goose didn’t say anything.

“Did you know that even now as we speak one of CIA Section Chief Cody’s agents is watching you from across the street?” Danielle’s smile turned superior and mocking.

Looking at her, Goose said, “Are you referring to the agent on the second floor of the building directly across from us? Or are you talking about the agent on top of the building to the northeast? And unless I’m mistaken, a third agent comes by in a Toyota four-wheeldrive pickup every half hour or so. I’m sure he’s the transport part of the surveillance team.”

Danielle’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, I’m impressed. I spotted the one guy because I recognized him from earlier.”

“From where?”

“The burning building that came under terrorist attack.” Danielle gazed at him coolly, the hanging lights from the church reflecting in her eyes. “The one where you carried the man out and placed him in a jeep while all the other survivors were taken to the hospital or released.”

Goose didn’t say anything. He shifted uncomfortably, realizing his knee felt like it was about to explode. “As I recall, you didn’t know the man’s name when we talked earlier.”

“Which man?” Danielle asked. “The one you carried out of that building and disappeared with?”

Goose avoided that topic for the moment. “The CIA agent you were talking about that morning.”

Danielle gazed at him as if taking his measure. “Things have changed since I talked with you yesterday.”

Goose waited, curious now at how much she knew. If she had managed to somehow identify Icarus, she could be a danger to herself as well as to the double agent.

“I didn’t get any joy from you,” Danielle said, “so I sent Cody’s picture to a friend of mine at OneWorld NewsNet.”

“You had a camera?”

“Of course. I never go anywhere without one.”

“I’ll remember that in the future.”

Danielle nodded. “I hope that in the future we’re working on the same side.”

Goose didn’t say anything.

“My friend at OneWorld NewsNet was young,” Danielle said.

“You’re young,” Goose stated.

“Lizuca was younger than me,” Danielle said. “She was bright and intelligent and one of the friendliest people I’ve ever met.”

Was.
For the first time Goose realized that Danielle was talking about her friend in the past tense. He attributed the miss on his part to fatigue and his aching knee. A knot of apprehension stirred in his guts.

“She helped support her mother and her sister financially,” Danielle said. “The economy in Romania is still problematic. I’d been giving her some overtime, which she loved because that gave her a little extra money to spend on herself, and she learned more about the news business. She was hoping to get the chance to move to America.”

The band played another lively rock song that seemed at odds with the story Danielle was telling. “Yesterday my coordinator at OneWorld NewsNet ordered Lizuca off the assignment I’d given her.”

“That person knew what she was doing?” Goose asked.

“Stolojan only knew that I had asked her to find out the name of the man in the picture I’d sent her.”

“Had Lizuca identified Cody then?”

“Lizuca—“ Danielle’s voice broke—“Lizuca never identified Cody as far as I know. A couple hours after I sent her Cody’s picture, she was dead. Someone tracked her to the cybercafé, where she worked when she was away from OneWorld, and brutally murdered her. Shot her down in front of several people.”

Goose drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Suddenly the idea of Cody’s three agents stalking him wasn’t as insignificant as he’d first thought. But he still didn’t think they meant him any harm. Otherwise they would have already tried. There had been opportunities before now. He believed they were watching him in hopes of catching Icarus, using him as bait. Taking three men out of Cody’s troops had improved Icarus’s chances of getting away or remaining hidden, whichever the man had intended.

“Was the gunman identified?” Goose asked.

“No.”

Goose rubbed his jaw, thinking the problem over and evaluating the parameters of it. “I don’t think Cody keeps an agent in Romania.”

“I don’t either. He could have hired someone, though.”

“And cut a deal that quick?” Goose shook his head.

“But who would let Cody know Lizuca was searching for him?”

“She was searching OneWorld NewsNet’s archives when she was killed,” Danielle said. “For the murderer to show up there, they had to be tracking her from the link to OneWorld NewsNet.”

Considering that, Goose knew that only one conclusion could be drawn. He was certain that Danielle had already made the same one.

“Someone at OneWorld NewsNet tipped off the killer,” Goose said. “How did you identify Cody?”

“I went through another source.”

“Who?”

Danielle shook her head. “I don’t even know. The person I contacted remains hidden.”

“But you can trust this person?”

Her eyes flashed. “I got Cody’s name, didn’t I? And you haven’t bothered to deny it, so I know I’ve got that name right. If that’s right, then the rest of what I learned must be right.”

“How did that person get the name?”

After a brief hesitation, she replied, “The initial information came from OneWorld NewsNet. The CIA files after that.”

“No one noticed?”

“There was an incident. Someone tracked my information specialist back to a false address in Australia that was being used. A man showed up at that address within minutes. But by then the person searching for Cody’s name had already broken into OneWorld’s hidden files and gotten the information we were looking for.
Some
of the information.”

“Can your information specialist be tracked any further?”

“I was told no.”

“Whoever tipped the killer about Lizuca knows that you put her up to that search. They’re going to figure you’re at least involved in the second one. Going after that information again so soon could have been a mistake.”

Danielle’s tone grew short. “Don’t you think I thought about that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Goose answered. “I just wondered if you thought about it before or after the
incident.
”

Some of her anger dissipated.

“The information specialist you were using for the second attempt should have known that too,” Goose stated. “I don’t know how professional that person is—”

“Good enough to get into OneWorld’s computers as well as the CIA’s.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand that. But he was also good enough to call the dogs down on you. If they sent a man after him, intending to do what was done to your friend, they may well come after you.”

Danielle nodded. “I know.” She hesitated. “I’m scared.”

“Do you believe you’re in danger?”

“Of course I’m in danger,” Danielle snapped irritably. Then she took a moment to get herself under control. “I sent Lizuca the picture. I think the only thing that’s saved me this far is that no one knows I know as much as I do.”

“What do you know?” Goose lowered his voice. He was confident that the noise of the church and the pounding rain would defeat any electronic eavesdropping the CIA surveillance team might attempt, but he still felt exposed and vulnerable standing there.

“What I
need
to know,” Danielle said, “is whether I can trust you.” Her eyes searched his.

Goose didn’t answer. The trust couldn’t come from his end; she had to choose to trust him. And in that moment, he understood more about the faith issues Baker had talked about. Faith was a matter of trust as well, and it had to come from the person who wanted it, not be worked out by actions and demands put upon God.

She wanted him to say something or do something that would let her know she could trust him, but he knew if he said or did anything to persuade her, that trust would be false. She would base her trust on his persuasion rather than on his actions and what she knew of him, not how she really felt.

A memory unlocked in his mind. Chris had been three when Goose had built the fort in their backyard. Though only four feet off the ground, the fort had at first been scary to Chris. The bridge between the two main units had rails, but Chris had been afraid. Still, he’d wanted to cross it. Goose had hunkered down at the other end and held his arms out to his son.

Goose had talked to Chris, cajoled him, and tried to build his confidence. In the end, as he’d sometimes done when working with soldiers trying to improve their performance on the obstacle course, Goose had simply sat and waited, becoming a rock and letting them know by his stationary position that he would not move. After a time, Chris had released his hold on the other end of the bridge and run across. That had been trust—the innocent trust of a child, which can so quickly evaporate. The Bible distinguished between the trust of a child and the trust of a man as well.

“Okay,” Danielle said after a short, intense silence, “if I hadn’t thought I could trust you, I wouldn’t have come looking for you, and I wouldn’t have told you everything I’ve told you so far.” She smiled, but there was little humor in the effort. Fear lingered in her gaze. “The problem is, once I tell you what I know, there’s no taking it back. If anyone finds out I’ve talked to you about this, your life will be in danger too.”

Goose thought about Icarus and the secrets he was already holding on to, about the way he had betrayed Remington’s confidence in him. “My life is already in danger, ma’am. And that’s in addition to being out here on this battlefield.”

Danielle shook her head. “It’s just hard to know how much you know.”

“Enough to get me killed,” Goose assured her.