Page 67 of Cross Down
Her smile widens. “They took him off the vent this afternoon; he’s breathing on his own now. They moved him out of the ICU and…” Bree’s eyes well up. She can’t go on.
I squeeze her hand. “What happened to the fake nurse who tried to kill him? Is she talking yet?”
Bree says, “She died in surgery, they said. But I don’t believe it.”
Damon comes into the room. “Bree, the two guys from the Bluestone Group are back. You want me to talk to them, find out why they left?”
I see Bree’s eyes harden and I feel sorry for those two guys, whoever they are.
“No,” she snaps. “I’ll take care of them later.”
Damon squeezes my shoulder. “Good to see you, Uncle John. Willow is sleeping upstairs, sharing Ali’s room. I can wake her up and bring her down.”
Oh my. To hold my girl, hug her, kiss her, and talk to her…
And then what?
She’ll be so excited about her daddy coming home, but I’ll have to break her heart because I’m leaving again in a few minutes.
“No,” I say, voice tight. “Let her sleep. I can’t stay long.”
Bree says, “John, what’s going on?”
I look around the kitchen, make a point of touching my ears and my eyes. Bree says, “My people sweep this house twice a day, and they have active detection systems in place for countersurveillance. It’s okay for us to talk.”
“Good,” I say, and I give her a rundown of what I’ve been up to: the firefights at the motel and the fishing cabin in North Carolina and the events at Gary Bastinelli’s compound. “Bottom line,” I say, “is that whatever happened back in Afghanistan is key to the terror attacks. Forces have eliminated almost everyone who went into Afghanistan two years ago.”
Damon is sitting quietly in one of the kitchen chairs, face somber. I feel a stab of guilt and responsibility. What kind of nation will he be left with if we can’t stop these terror attacks and the ultimate attack coming soon?
“Now what?” Bree asks.
“Simple,” I say. “We’re going back to the scene of the crime, find out what we can.”
Damon says, “How, Uncle John?”
“I’m leaving that up to Elizabeth,” I say. “In two hours we’re meeting up again. In the meantime, Bree, I need two favors.”
“Absolutely,” she says.
“Don’t be so quick to say yes,” I say. “The first one is the hardest. You need to move everyone from here to another location. Someplace only you’ll know, someplace that can easily be protected. Even I don’t want to know where it is. I’m afraid things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. If they get better.”
Bree slowly nods. “I don’t like it, but I understand. Your other favor?”
I take a pen out, scribble a date on a torn-off piece of napkin, slide it over to her. “This,” I say. “On this date, an army general was present at a classified airbase in Tajikistan. At the time the base was called Zulu Field.”
“You need a rundown?” she asks.
“Full and complete, as soon as you can.” I scoop up a last forkful of scrambled eggs.
“It’s that important?” she asks.
I remember the general talking sharply to Elizabeth Deacon back there in Tajikistan and Elizabeth later claiming she didn’t remember him or the argument.
“End-of-the-world-as-we-know-it important,” I say.
Chapter
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