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  THE CARDS IN THE DECK #3

  A Scott Evers Thriller

  ROBERT STANEK

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  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, places and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual locale, person or event is entirely coincidental.

  FACE OFF

  THE CARDS IN THE DECK #3

  Copyright © 2015 by Robert Stanek.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Reagent Press LLC, Attention: Permissions Department, P.O. Box 362, East Olympia, WA 98540-0362.

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2015 Robert Stanek.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. First Printed in the United States of America.

  Reagent Press LLC

  www.reagentpress.com

  REAGENT PRESS

  Also by Robert Stanek

  Ruin Mist Chronicles

  Dragons of the Hundred Worlds

  Keeper Martin's Tale

  Kingdom Alliance

  Fields of Honor

  Mark of the Dragon

  Guardians of the Dragon Realms

  Scott Evers Thrillers

  The Pieces of the Puzzle

  The Cards in the Deck

  The Pawns on the Board

  The Players in the Game

  After the Machines

  This Mortal Coil

  The Secret of Us

  Look for spoken-word versions of these

  and other Robert Stanek books!

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my writing group, my editors, and my publishers for their many years of support. A writer can’t survive in this business without such wonderful support. I want to personally thank Jeannie Kim, Tom Green, Lisa Johnson, Tony Andover, Frank Martin, Ed & Holly Black, Patrick Gaiman, George Harrison, and Susan Collins for encouraging me and keeping me on track with the writing. Your insights and assistance have always been much appreciated. I also want to thank Will, Jasmine, and Sapphire for always being the first readers to devour my work and come back hungry for more.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  World Time

  Hawaii Time

  Coordinated Universal Time -10:00

  Mountain Time

  Coordinated Universal Time -07:00

  Brussels, Paris & Madrid

  Coordinated Universal Time +01:00

  Beirut, Cairo & Tripoli

  Coordinated Universal Time +02:00

  FACT:

  The National Cybersecurity Initiative and the NCI Data Center exist, as do the code-named surveillance programs and the secret branches of the NSA and CIA.

  All science, technology, literature and historical references are real, including Big Black, D-Wave and quantum computing.

  Chapter 1

  Mediterranean Sea

  Morning, Wednesday, 20 June

  Scott was worried as he thought about what might be about to happen. “Edie and I work security together,” he told the MAs. “Same VIP clearance.” The last part was a white lie, but what could it hurt?

  “Badge,” Edie said, doing her best to point her head at the badge pinned to her shirt. The only problem was the badge; it wasn’t there.

  “You’ll have to take my word for it,” Edie said, her eyes wide.

  “Wheelchair,” Scott said to the nurse, “no arguments.” At her hesitation, he tried to step away on his own, made the first step but wouldn’t have made the second step if one of the MAs hadn’t come to his rescue. “Seems like he’s going to go one way or another,” the MA said.

  Scott gave the nurse his best that’s exactly what I’m going to do look. “And I do need something. If not reds, something else. Adrenaline?”

  The nurse held her ground. “You’re going to get me reprimanded, if not demoted and court marshalled too.”

  “I’m going to get you a Navy Cross,” Scott said, surprised at how fast his thoughts were moving. To Edie, who was still cuffed, he said, “You gave me some before I woke up. How many?”

  “I gave you two. They didn’t do anything.” She quirked her brows and added, softly, “So I was going to give you two more.”

  All the color flushed from the nurse’s face. “Those are 60 milligram pills. Two and he’s not just running at highway speeds, he’s probably outside his mind. Four and he’s dead from a massive coronary. You got that little girl?”

  Edie looked flustered. “I didn’t know.” To the MA at her side, she said, “Can you uncuff me?”

  The MA looked to Scott, who nodded. “She’s harmless,” he said. “Completely harmless.”

  Uncuffed, Edie ran to Scott, wrapped her arms around him. “You damned fool,” she said, whispering in his ear and kissing his cheek before stepping back.

  A phone started ringing, but it wasn’t the one on the desk at the nurse’s station. Edie got down on her hands and knees, looking for the source, and came up with a satellite phone.

  “Hello,” she said, answering. “Just a moment. He’s right here.” Turning to Scott, she said, her hand over the microphone, “Do you know a Ken Kweeny?”

  “Ken Kawena,” Scott said, reaching for the phone and only realizing the mistake he was making by the look on Edie’s face. She switched the call to speaker so he could talk without having to hold the phone. “Ken, it’s Scott. Encrypted but unsecure.”

  A pause. “Scott, you don’t know how good it is to hear your voice. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. I told whoever I reached it was a matter of utmost urgency for you to call me back. Sounded like the girl I just spoke to. Has Dave Gilbert from NCI DC got ahold of you?”

  Scott’s eyes shifted to Edie’s. “You talked to Ken earlier?”

  “I don’t know what I did earlier,” Edie said. “Wasn’t exactly myself after what happened.”

  “Sorry, it’s been intense around here,” Scott said into the speaker. “What’s NCI got to do with any of this?”

  “I don’t know, not exactly, but you asked me to look into this and that’s as far as I got. Take down this number. Call it.”

  “Pen?” Scott said to the nurse. He checked the clock on the phone. It was almost 5 A.M. One of the MAs gave Edie a pen and paper. “Ready.” Scott wrote down the number, not surprised Ken remembered to give him the international dialing sequence. “Got it.” A pause. “Ken, this as bad as it feels?”

  “Worse. Call Dave.”

  Scott watched as Edie hung up and dialed. Her fingers were long, slender, and they moved with purpose.

  “Hello?” Edie said, surprise in her voice. “I’m trying to reach Da
ve Gilbert.” She put a hand over the phone. “A woman named Nancy Stevens answered, says she’ll get Dave.”

  Here goes nothing.

  “On speaker,” Scott said.

  Edie switched the call to speaker and held the phone out so Scott could hear and talk. “Evers here,” he said.

  “Scott Evers?” said a strong, male voice. “You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice or how long I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  All the questions he should ask at this moment flashed through Scott’s mind. He chose the most troubling. “What’s NCI got to do with any of this?”

  “Everything,” Dave said. There was a rustling sound on the line and then the clickety-clack of fingers on a keyboard. The computer pinged. “Am I on speaker? Are there others listening? Do you know where you are?”

  Scott looked to Edie, the nurse, the MAs. Behind them, he saw hospital beds, separated from him only by thin curtains. “I’m here with my second in command, Edilene Marshall.”

  A long pause. More fingers on the keyboard. Another ping. Then a high-pitched alert. “I see,” Dave said, his voice suddenly different. “I need you to go off speaker. Is that possible?”

  “Give me a moment,” Scott said.

  Chapter 2

  Tyrrhenian Sea

  Morning, Wednesday, 20 June

  The director pressed the phone to his ear, his face as pale as if he’d seen a ghost. He hadn’t seen a ghost, but he was hearing from one. The wind was blowing his hair around as the Il Ferdinand and her fast displacement hull tore through the chop at 25 knots. With Corsica behind and soon Sardinia, it would be open waters until they passed the coast of Sicily.

  The director was tired, and the dark circles under his eyes showed the fatigue setting in. He no longer felt like God’s just instrument or simply a man resolving life’s inevitable iniquities. Instead, he was a man who was about to break the basic tenets on which he’d built an empire that had thrived for over two decades.

  Never take a job you do not intend to see through to the end.

  Never pass judgment on those who hire you.

  Never reveal your client’s identity.

  Tenets that were the cornerstones of not only his business but his life. And yet he was about to break not one but all three.

  “Yes, I’m certain,” his operative said in reply to his question about the target’s status. Any other time the trembling of her voice would have been a red flag, but now it only added the necessary measure of truth. She was as wounded and vulnerable as she’d told him she was.

  “Alex—” the director started to say, but cut short.

  “Afraid to say my name, father?” the operative said. “Guilty conscience after trying to kill me?”

  Alexis wasn’t his real daughter, but he’d raised her up from the darkness that had swallowed her after she’d been discharged from the U.S. army, replacing an unquenchable hunger for poison delivered by a needle with a new hunger delivered by special messenger. A hunger for correcting wrongs and injustices.

  “It was necessity, not personal.” Before speaking again, he looked at the phone’s display and the timer ticking off the seconds of the connection. Even with all his precautions, he tried to keep his calls to 60 seconds or less and to minimize the words spoken. This call had already gone on for a minute and 23 seconds. But that didn’t matter now, nothing mattered now. “I’ve initiated a house cleaning. A full house cleaning. Where are you?”

  ***

  As the seconds ticked by without further comment, Alexis knew the director was as shocked by what he’d said as she was to hear it. She gazed absently out the window and wondered where the day would lead her. Wherever it was, she was absolutely certain that tomorrow the world would not only look a lot different, but would in fact be very different.

  Adrenaline had carried her this far, she knew though that it might not take her much farther. “So you can send someone else to kill me?” She continued the conversation because she wanted to and because she still felt obligated to him. “That’s not going to happen because you’re not going to find me.”

  “You’re wrong,” the director said. “I’m looking at the coast of Sicily in the distance. Malta by early afternoon. How long after do you think?”

  There was a time when she wondered if the director was someone she could be with, if he was someone who wanted her as those she traded her body for drugs did. But then she’d figured out that he didn’t want her because she was damaged.

  She choked back emotion. Something outside the window caught her eye and she bolted upright. “I can still finish the job.” She held the phone away as she coughed blood into her other hand. “Let me do that for you, and then forget me.” She stared out into the street at the armed men and their machine guns. The Armed Forces of Malta Air Squadron was based in the southern corner of Luqa international airport, defended by a rifle company of regular infantry and an air defense company with RPG’s and .50 heavy machine guns. “You owe me that, at the least.”

  “Too long I’ve looked the other way,” the director said. “I forgave your proclivities because you didn’t let them interfere with our operations, but you’ve gone too far this time. There’s no coming back from this.”

  “Obviously, you think otherwise, or you’d have hung up long ago,” she said, watching a second rifle squad rush past outside the window. No doubt the Armed Forces of Malta were on high alert with the USS Kearsarge parked nearby, barely within international waters, and reports of the wounded medivaced off the ship making their way up the chain of command.

  “Goodbye, Alexis,” the director said, hanging up.

  Alexis twisted the phone in her hand and broke it in half. Then she pulled out the battery and the SIM card. Discarding the phone, she dragged herself away from the window. After descending a service staircase and climbing into an idling delivery truck, she drove off.

  Chapter 3

  Mediterranean Sea

  Morning, Wednesday, 20 June

  Dave Gilbert’s revelations were eye-opening and Scott’s thoughts spun with all the possibilities as Edie wheeled him toward operations with the MAs a few steps behind. His plan was to talk to Master Chief Roberts first. Then with the chief behind him, he’d approach the Operations Commander.

  “Bathroom,” he said as soon as he saw the signs.

  Edie swung the chair around and thrust backward into the Men’s room door. “Out,” Edie shouted, not only to the MAs who tried to follow them in, but to the ensign at the urinal rushing to zip up his pants. In response to the ensign’s indignant stare, she said, “Didn’t see a thing, but trust me when I say you’ve nothing to worry about when it comes to the ladies.”

  The ensign rushed out, red-faced.

  “That was wicked,” Scott said. “Where’s that Edie been hiding lately?”

  “Right here,” she said, kneeling beside him. Then quietly, she added, “You know everything, don’t you?”

  “How?” Scott said, wishing suddenly he could wheel himself away from her probing eyes.

  Edie took a deep breath and said calmly. “Your voice changed, like Dave’s, and the look in your eye was the same then as now. It’s your tell, you know, but then it’s very hard to hide feelings of betrayal, isn’t it?”

  Without hesitation, he replied, “Why, Edie? I thought… I…”

  “I do,” she said, her hand cupping his cheek. “I warned you, gave you so many chances. It should’ve been obvious.”

  Nothing was obvious to Scott at the moment. “I thought you were just playing with me.”

  “I was.” She stood and swiveled around in front of him, her hands gripping the armrests of the wheelchair. “But it was more than that too. Surely, you know that?”

  He shifted nervously, almost not wanting to hear anything more that she had to say. It wasn’t the first time he’d been played or likely the last, but it hurt almost as much as if she’d cut out his heart and served it up to him. “Did you know this was coming?”
<
br />   She shook her head, stepped back. A single tear glistened on her cheek. “You know what I have to do next.” She walked to the door, locked it even though they both knew the locking mechanism was flimsy. “You know I don’t want to do this.”

  “I know.” He gave her a reassuring nod. He knew what was coming and accepted that she’d at least try. “Better you than any other.” He was silent for a moment. “But tell me why first? Are you a double?”

  “As I’m sure you were told, Aleph Bet, not just Mossad. Isn’t it answer enough that I gave you the one name that could give you that information?”

  Aleph Bet was a secret division of Mossad that specialized in deep cover operations, often in the US without the approval of the US government and just as often working against its interests. He lowered his voice. “You don’t look Israeli.”

  “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

  Victoria Edilene “Edie” Marshall actually wasn’t the first name she’d given him—just the first he believed held some true meaning. Dave’s alert though had only listed her as suspected affiliation, not operative, so he couldn’t help wonder not only why she was telling him this specifically but specifically at this moment.

  Dave’s call hadn’t been about Edie though. It’d been about something else—someone else—entirely. A single match, a single name, returned by the most powerful computer on Earth in response to a type of deep analysis of the unfolding events. Scott honestly didn’t understand the science that led to the result, but the name was another matter. He not only knew a David Owen Blake, but knew that David had been aboard the Bardot.

  Scott’s eyes moved to Edie’s, realizing they were about to part ways and yet he couldn’t help feeling as if they’d still have unfinished business when it was done. “Was I your target or just a means to an end?” He’d suspected she was an operative for some agency, but had been thinking MI-6, British Intelligence, and not Israeli Intelligence—and certainly not Aleph Bet. In truth, he hadn’t really cared one way or the other as long as she did her job and whatever else she was doing didn’t interfere with his own op aboard Sea Shepherd. “Get this over with if you’re going to. I’ve got dinner plans.”