The Bigot List: (A J.J. McCall Novel) (23 page)

J
ack eyed Lana angrily as she entered the interrogation room at the Alexandria Detention Facility. He had called and asked her to pay him a long overdue visit. To his surprise, she obliged. After everything he’d done to help boost her career, she owed him that much. In jail nearly a week, he’d had a lot of time to reflect. He finally allowed the seeds of distrust and contempt to take hold and grow as he should’ve many months before.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m locked up. Didn’t think you were going to show up,” Jack said snidely. He feigned hurt at the absence he’d fully expected. Without power and position he was of no use to Lana. He’d merely been a pawn in some career-driven chess match, her fat needy puppet. Jack had always been under the impression she’d just been trying to get ahead—after all, he often received the same in return, but one particular thought disturbed him more than any other.

Lana shook her head, forcing tears from her beady little blues. “I’m sorry for not coming sooner, Jack. I, uhhh, I guess I just couldn’t bear to see you here. You doing okay?”

“Three hots and cot, and a lot of reading. Given my situation, I can’t complain. It is what it is,” he said. “Listen, I know you want to ask. So let me save you the trouble.
No
, I didn’t spy for the Russians.”

She lifted her eyebrows and smirked. “You sure about that?”

His eyebrows scrunched. “How the hell could you even suggest—You think this is fucking funny? I could get the death penalty for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Jack,” Lana lamented. “Everybody’s on edge. This is all so surreal.”

He nodded and accepted her apology, with prejudice. She’d always been a heartless bitch. Why he’d expected anything different now was beyond him. She was who she was.

“Listen, has anyone come to talk to you about Cartwright?”

He shook his head. Besides J.J., Jim had been the only person who’d even attempted to contact him in jail. Even left a message saying he had a plan to get Jack out, but Jack refused Jim’s calls. It was Jim’s fault Jack had been tossed in jail in the first place. Even though he’d always known Jim to be an upstanding person, somewhere along the line his life had veered steeply from the high road. Cartwright had compromised his ideals, lost his integrity. Thus, he was not the same man Jack had met at the academy so many years ago. Jack mourned for the loss of Jim’s character almost as much as he regretted the loss of his own.

“No,” Jack said, noting her glum expression. “Something wrong?”

“Afraid so.” She sighed. “He’s, uhhh, he’s dead. Shot himself in the head at a scenic overlook off the GW Parkway.”

“My God!” Jack yelled. He fell back in his chair and placed his hand over his heart. He knew Jim’s life had gone astray but bad enough to kill himself? “Why? Did he say why?”

“He left a note but gave no reason.”

“You must be devastated. He pulled quite a few strings to get you hired.”

“Yes, I’m quite devastated.” Her voice was solemn and flat. “We know all the rumors about him were true. He must’ve been afraid his family would find out.”

Jack hardened his glare on Lana, his face reddened as the edges of his mouth turned down. “Why would he be
afraid
? Despite the rumors, you, Chris, and I were the
only ones
who knew the truth.”

She clasped her hands together as her face turned flush red. “I didn’t know he told you.”

“He and I have been friends since Quantico. He told me about the incident in the garage years ago,” Jack said, his mind churning. “Wait a minute. You didn’t use that against him, did you? You’re not so blinded by ambition that you would blackmail a decent man and a father of two beautiful girls just to further your career, are you?!”

She shook her head feverishly. “Jack,
no!
I would never tell a soul. It’s Chris. It had to be Chris. Oh my God—the money, the erratic behavior—it all makes sense now.”

“Lana, you have to report this to security at Washington Field, not Headquarters, Washington Field. You can’t let him get away with this.”

She exhaled and her shoulders relaxed. “Chris will meet his fate soon enough. He’s scheduled to take his polygraph this morning. If we’re right about him, he’ll leave in handcuffs.”

Jack eyed her suspiciously. “You seem awfully confident. My question to you is why?”

She glanced down at her watch. “Look at the time. I hate to cut this short, but I need to get out of here. Busy day ahead at the office.”

“Mhm Hmm,” Jack said. “Lana, what game are you playing?”

“You know me, Jack,” she said, smirking as she stood to leave. “I don’t play games. I just win.”

•  •  •

J.J. and Tony paced down the walking path, scanning the area carefully every step of the way. About a hundred meters in, the can was blowing across the trail. The marker had moved.

“Do you see it, Tony?” J.J. said. Her head whipped from side to side. Nervous. Panicked.
Where is it? Where is it?

Tony threw up his hands in resignation. “No, I don’t see anything. You think we passed it?”

“No. We couldn’t have.”

“It’s got to be here somewhere because Chris left empty handed. You go back a few yards and I’ll go forward a few yards. I’ll holler if I see anything and you do the same.”

Tony and J.J. scoured the area in close proximity to the walking path, inch by inch. The sun’s light helped them see, but it’d also make it easy for the Russians to spot them if they were caught in the area. The last thing they needed was for Golikov’s people to abort the op fearing an FBI sting. Their entire plan hinged on the Russians taking the package.

“I got it! I got it!” Tony said.

A smile slipped between her lips as she jetted back to his location. The op was coming to an end, and so far they’d averted the major disasters. But she caught herself.
One step forward, two steps back.

“Here it is. A hundred twenty yards on the left.”

She shook her head in frustration. They’d wasted so much time.

Then Jake radioed in. “Blue Leader one. You’ve got an incoming. A silver Toyota Camry sedan with Russian diplomatic plates just pulled into the lot. A white male, approximately six feet, two inches, close-shaven head, and a gray jogging suit is heading your way.”

“Shit! Shit! Make the switch. Make the switch,” J.J. urged.

Tony dug his hand beneath the thin layer of leaves. He pulled out Chris’s package, which was wrapped in a manner almost identical to the one they prepared. He replaced it with the fake package, kicked a few leaves over it with his foot, then shoved the real intelligence into his jacket and zipped it up. J.J. took the radio and slipped it into her pocket.

“I don’t see him yet. Let’s go!” Her every sense was heightened, every sound magnified, every movement perceptible. “I hear something. I hear something. Walk faster.”

As they powered along the trail, the package slipped from beneath Tony’s Jacket. He pushed it against his ribcage, held his hand firmly against it. He couldn’t let it fall out, not now. They continued down the path until they rounded a turn which took them out of their follower’s line of sight.

J.J. held her breath as she slowed down. She pulled the radio from her jacket pocket. “Any sign of him yet? We made the switch.”

Jake didn’t respond.

“Jake? Jake? Do you read me? Any sign of him yet?”

Nothing but static. Jake had gone silent.

But she heard something else in the distance. Footsteps.

“You hear that?” Tony whispered.

J.J. nodded.

Her heart pounded. Maybe the Russian was lurking around the drop site instead of returning to his vehicle. The footsteps coming from behind quickened, drew closer. Suddenly she heard a noise. Someone padded toward them, faster and faster. If the Russians were onto them, they were shit soup. She softened her steps, as if making less noise could conceal their presence. If they could just make it to the fork in the trail, they could head back toward the parking lot and get a window of time in the clear.

“You hear that?” she whispered. “Keep walking. Pick up the pace.”

She turned the volume down to a whisper and shoved the radio back into her pocket. They pushed forward. The faster they walked, the louder the footsteps sounded. Suddenly, the steps quickened until J.J. heard them on her heels. She unzipped her jacket and reached for the holster on her back. Tony followed suit. She whipped her head around and...

“Jake!” she screamed. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph you scared the shit out of me!”

“You better say a Hail Mary when you get home because you almost took one in the chest,” Tony said. The package was on the ground under Tony’s foot. He dropped it lightning fast and placed his hand firmly on the holster in the small of his back. “Why didn’t you answer, J.J.?”

“Sorry about that. My radio battery died,” he said. “I ran to catch you but didn’t want to make a big scene. I’ve been out there watching him and he’s still there. Maybe he caught a glimpse of you leaving the area near the drop site and decided to wait.”

Precisely J.J.’s thoughts. Her mouth dropped open. “What are we gonna do now?” J.J. asked Tony. If the Russians suspected for a second the packages had been switched, the entire op was all for naught and Karat and Vorobyev were dead men walking. “You can’t walk out of here looking six months pregnant with that thing.”

Tony shook his head and shrugged. Both he and J.J. struggled to find a solution and leaving the package in the park to retrieve later was not an option.

“Why don’t I take it and hold it for you,” Jake said. “As soon as you leave, he’ll probably follow you out. Then I can bring the package back to headquarters.”

J.J. felt a slight sensation behind her ear. She reached her arm out then hesitated. Jake had never given her reason to mistrust him before. And he certainly wasn’t the ICE Phantom. With no regular access to files, he couldn’t steal and sell them. Still, her “gift” had never failed her before. Not once. She felt uneasy and pulled the package to her gut. “No offense Jake, but I’m not letting this package out of my sight.”

Tony shrugged. “J.J., don’t be ridiculous. We’ve got to wait on the text message, right? Jake can take the package and meet us. We’ll let the teams take a lunch break and head back to headquarters to talk to Sunnie.”

Tony grabbed the package from J.J.’s hand and held out to Jake. Although she had nothing to go on but a slight sensation, J.J. snatched it back.

“Nope. That’s okay. We’ll deal with it.”

Jake scoffed. “It’s me, Jake. Not some spy. Don’t worry.”

“Shit shit!” she yelped. It was the crotch itch…again. And this time it felt more like a stab than the usual crawling sensation. Her knees buckled. “Sorry, it’s the, uhhh, it’s the
thing
. You know…”

They both shrugged it off.

Jake had lied big time.

About what, J.J. didn’t know, but every fiber of her being warned her,
Don’t put the package in Jake’s hand!
She had no time to assess him. She glared at Jake, her head cocked to the side. All she could do was stand frozen, weighing her options while Tony glared at her as if she’d lost the little bit of mind she had left.

“We can handle it,” J.J. insisted.

Tony’s jaw tightened and he stared her down. “Really? Why are you being such a hard ass?” Tony asked, confused as hell, determined to have his way. “What’s a matta with you? Give him the package already.”

He didn’t understand the problem and she couldn’t explain, not then, not there. When J.J. didn’t budge, Tony snatched the package from her hand and returned it to Jake, who backed out of J.J.’s reach as he shifted his gaze nervously between the two.

“Take it and go,” Tony ordered, strong-arming J.J. to keep her from reaching Jake. “See you back at headquarters in a few. And charge up that radio, so we can get a hold of you when the next phase of this op goes down. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Jake said with a canary-ate-cat smile emerging upon his lips. He trekked down the trail at a rapid pace.

“What was that all about? It’s Jake for Christ’s sake!” Tony said,   admonishing J.J. for her behavior. Maybe she’d gotten it wrong for the first time in her life. But her heart sank as she feared the worst. The package contained TOP SECRET information.
Will he take it back to headquarters? Or disappear?
She didn’t know. But based on the physiological reaction, she suspected the latter. Within the hour, she’d know.

“I can’t explain.”

“You can’t or you won’t.”

“I just had a bad feeling. Call it women’s intuition. I know I’m standing on shaky ground but sometimes, you’ve got to trust that I know what the hell I’m doing.”

Tony and J.J. exhaled and headed toward the park entrance. “Is it too early for a shot of vodka?” she asked.

“For you, yeah. Anytime is too early,” Tony replied, his voice between jest and serious as a heart attack.

When they arrived at the car, Russian car had already left, but Jake’s car was still in the lot. He hadn’t returned.