Chapter 24
Jack Emery groaned and rolled over, his hand slapping at the mound of covers.
“Jack, wake up. I need to talk to you. Jack, please,” Nikki pleaded. Cyrus took that moment to throw back his head and let loose with an ungodly sound. That got Jack’s attention.
“What’s wrong? Is the house on fire? What time is it?”
“The house is not on fire, and it’s a few minutes before five. Jack, I need you fully awake. Here,” she said, reaching for a tray on the nightstand, “I brought you coffee.”
Jack struggled to sit up as he punched pillows behind his back. “Okay, okay, I’m awake, now tell me what’s wrong.” He sipped at the steaming brew in the heavy mug as he peered at his beautiful wife, who looked like she was going to go through the ceiling any moment. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her this agitated. She looked gorgeous, in a plum-colored suit that shrieked high-dollar designer label. She was wearing makeup, but it didn’t totally cover the dark circles under her eyes. He felt his stomach muscles clench. Whatever she was going to tell him wasn’t going to be good. He could feel it in his bones.
Nikki licked at her crimson lips and took a deep breath. “Listen, Jack, I know tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I know we had plans for Christmas Day but . . . I . . . Alexis and I have to leave for Minnesota today. Our flight leaves at noon. Jack, please don’t look at me like that . . . one of the little kids . . . the mother called last night . . . and . . . and . . . it doesn’t look like she’ll make it through Christmas. We have to . . . to . . . video the child. The mother has been putting it off hoping Marcey—that’s her name, Marcey—would . . . rally, but she’s gotten worse. I know this sounds ghoulish and it wasn’t my idea, it was the parents’ . . . they want us there. It will help their case. We talked about this, Jack, and it was you who told me to get video of all the victims because that’s what they are, victims. You said juries need to see the victims. Such a sad time. I don’t want to do this. Good Lord, I don’t even know if I can do this, but I . . . she’s only nine years old, Jack. And her seven-year-old brother, Donny, isn’t . . . he . . . the father said at best he only has a few weeks. I have to go, Jack.”
Jack bounded out of bed. “Damn right you have to go. You go and do whatever you need to do, Nik. We’re the lucky ones, we’ll have other Christmases. Don’t give me another thought. This is more important.” He wrapped his arms around his shaking wife and crooned softly in her ear. He stroked her back until he felt her stop shaking. He moved his arms and held her at arm’s length, then wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Do what you have to do, make those bastards pay. How are the parents fixed for money? Do you know?”
“I do know. They have to file for bankruptcy but that’s the least of their problems. I have to go, Jack. What . . . what will you do?”
“Me? I’ll spend the time with the guys. Like I said, don’t worry about me. I have Cyrus. I’m going to teach him how to bark when I sing a carol by the tree on Christmas Eve. I’ll video it for you.” His words had the desired effect as Nikki offered up a wan smile.
“I’ll call,” Nikki said, slipping into her coat. She grabbed a small carry-on bag, and, a minute later, she was gone.
Jack sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at his bare feet. Cyrus whimpered as he hopped on the bed and stuck his big head under Jack’s arm. “Yep, it’s just you and me, sport. You know, Cyrus, I’ve been really sweating this Christmas Eve gig we have going on. I’ve been racking my brain worrying about how I was going to get out for Christmas Eve without telling Nik what I was up to. She just solved my problem, sad as that may be. God does work in mysterious ways, now doesn’t He? Merry Christmas, Cyrus!” The shepherd barked and started racing around the room. Jack headed for the shower, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to make your bed! Just because Nik isn’t going to be here, you still gotta do it. Nice and neat now, no wrinkles.” Jack laughed to himself as he stripped off his boxers and headed into the shower.
Cyrus looked at the bathroom door, then down at his dog bed at the foot of the king-size people bed. He nosed what Jack called his toy stash onto the floor, then tugged at his yellow blanket until the big dog bed was covered. He knew what no wrinkles meant, so he walked around the four corners and tugged at the blanket. He saw the deep wrinkle in the middle, backed off, eyed the bed, then dropped one of his toys on top of the wrinkle.
“I saw that!” Jack bellowed from the bathroom. Cyrus barked once, twice, three times, which meant, that’s as good as it’s gonna get. So there!
Ten minutes later, Jack and Cyrus were in the kitchen. He opened the door for Cyrus to go outside. A wintry blast of cold air hit him like a jackhammer. He quickly slammed the door shut and set about making a fresh pot of coffee, fried some bacon, and scrambled enough eggs for the two of them. He was filling Cyrus’s food bowl when the big dog scratched at the door to come in.
Jack turned on the small television on the kitchen counter and listened to the early morning news. Same old same old. The world, in his opinion, was going to hell, and he hardly needed some slick commentator giving his biased spin on things. He switched channels, but, again, it was same old same old. Obviously there was no news so close to Christmas. Some roving reporter was questioning shoppers about what they were buying and how much they were spending this year. A straggly-looking Santa was bemoaning the fact that people weren’t as generous this year as other years. “So what else is new?” Jack muttered as he carried his plate to the sink. Cyrus picked up his bowl and handed it to Jack, who rinsed the dishes and set them in the dishwasher.
Jack checked the fireplace to make sure the fire was totally out, turned down the thermostat, then looked at the Christmas tree he’d put up yesterday. It smelled heavenly. For a moment he let his thoughts take him back to his childhood and the magic of Christmas morning. How long ago that was. Then his thoughts took him to a little girl named Marcey way out in Minnesota and her little brother Donny, who would never . . . Jack swiped at his eyes. “Kick their asses, Nik, make those bastards pay not just for Marcey and Donny but for all those poor kids who aren’t here this Christmas and for all the Christmases to come.” Cyrus nudged Jack’s leg. Time to go.
Outside in the frigid air, Jack looked around. It was still dark. He could see two people walking their dogs on the other side of the street. On his side of the street, he saw plumes of smoke circling upward from cars that were being warmed up. “I hate this weather, Cyrus.” Cyrus barked to show he wasn’t fond of it himself as he snuggled down on the passenger seat while Jack scraped the ice from the windshield.
Jack tossed the window scraper onto the backseat. He looked up the street and grinned in the darkness. The Post van was still parked outside Maggie’s house. “Good for you guys,” he mumbled under his breath.
It was high noon when Jack looked around the conference table to see that everyone was in attendance. Abner had set up the webcam earlier, and Bert and Sparrow were on standby. A second webcam was set up on the opposite side of the room, in which they could see Avery Snowden waiting patiently for the briefing to get under way.
The group spent fifteen minutes playing catch-up, then got down to business just as Ted and Maggie appeared. Jack outlined the plan and waited for approval via the webcams. When it came, he sighed in relief. “We’re good to go, guys. We’re going to do a practice run in about an hour. Espinosa is going to video it and will send it on to you. We’ll have an hour or so to pick it apart, assuming we make a few mistakes along the way. We’ll weed those out. And then, around nine this evening, the fun begins. We do our snatch and grab, head for the landing zone, and let matters take their course. I’m not anticipating any snafus, but you never know.”
Avery Snowden had a few questions that were addressed. Jack Sparrow announced that he would be taking the red-eye out Christmas night to get ready for his new job at the ugly brown Hoover Building.
Bert cleared his throat and addressed Jack. “Are the files safe, Jack?”
“You know it, buddy. When they’re needed, I’ll pull them out.” To the others he explained what Bert meant. “When Elias Cummings was the director of the FBI, he compiled a dossier on every politician in the District, just the way J. Edgar did. When Elias retired, he turned them over to Bert, who kept them until he left the Bureau when we went to work for Global Security, about which most of you know that I have nothing good to say. He turned them over to me, and I am the guardian now.” He turned to the webcam and spoke to Jack Sparrow. “No offense, pal, but until we see how you run this new show, I’m keeping these files. You okay with that, Sparrow?”
Jack Sparrow laughed. “I always thought that story was a myth, but guess I was wrong. Jack, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I understand you guys need me to prove myself, and I will. We can talk about those files some other day. Just knowing they’re out there is enough for me. It’s the fear of the unknown that works best in cases like this.”
“Okay, we’re all good then.” Jack looked around to see his guys nodding. He was puzzled that even Dennis didn’t have a question or two. The kid was finally on the same page. Jack felt a tremendous sense of relief knowing that the young reporter was finally getting it. Before long, he’d be totally shockproof.
“Let’s do one more run-through just to be on the safe side. Then we’ll meet up here again and head on out. We need to synchronize our watches so we don’t screw up. When I call your name, tell me what your job is.”
And so it went until Maggie asked the dreaded question. “So, what’s their punishment? How far are you willing to go to get those bank-account passwords? I’m sensing not too far. Like you guys don’t have the stomach for . . . the kinds of punishment we girls doled out. You do realize, don’t you, that you can’t threaten if you aren’t prepared to carry through on the threat. Now, let me hear it.”
The boys looked at one another, and they all started to talk at once. Maggie hooted with laughter. “You can’t be serious!” At the expressions she was seeing on their faces, she knew they were. “Wusses! Wimps! It’s a good thing I’m here since I do not share your squeamishness. Children died because of that man, and all you’re prepared to do is . . . basically nothing other than trying to scare them to death. I have a few ideas. Want to hear them?”
The boys looked at one another, but it was Dennis who said, “Let’s hear those ideas.”
After Maggie told the guys what she intended, she almost fell off her chair when the young reporter’s fist shot in the air. “For sure they’ll spill their guts. Can you really do it, Maggie, if it comes down to it?”
“Oh yeahhhh,” Maggie drawled. She stood up, looked around, and said, “Looks like we’re done here, so I’ll leave to . . . ah . . . pack up my old kit bag and meet you back here at eight on the dot. I’m not saying my old kit bag is the same as Alexis’s red bag of tricks, but I think I can pull it off. First, though, I have to go back to the paper and square things away. You wanna come with me, Dennis?”
Dennis grabbed his heavy jacket from the back of his chair. “You know it!”
The moment the door closed behind the duo, everyone started talking at once.
“Holy shit! She wouldn’t . . . would she really . . . ?” Abner asked, as his face started to pale.
“Oh, she can do it, trust me,” Ted said, a crazy, lopsided grin on his face.
“Nah, she isn’t capable, is she?” Sparrow said in a tight voice.
Bert burst out laughing. “Watch and see.” He was laughing so hard, he clicked off.
Jack looked over at Espinosa and Harry, waiting to see what they would say, if anything. Both men just shrugged. Jack took a deep breath. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. If it does . . . oh well, the end will justify the means.”
Cyrus decided to weigh in and rose onto his hind legs and howled. He didn’t stop until Jack said, “Okay, we have your vote.” Determined to have the last word, Cyrus let loose with a bloodcurdling bark that set everyone’s, including Jack’s, teeth on edge.
Five minutes later, the conference room was empty except for Jack and Cyrus. Jack looked down at the big dog lying at his feet and grinned to himself. Cyrus was almost human, at least in his eyes.
Jack sprinted for the kitchen, poured coffee, grabbed a treat for his best friend, then hightailed it back to the conference room, where he punched in the numbers for District Management LLC, which managed Tyler Sandford’s properties, and asked to speak to Lionel Marks. He was surprised when the receptionist put him through once he announced his name and said he had a check for the manager.
The two men made small talk and, when Jack adamantly said time was of the essence for him and he didn’t have any to meet Marks at the management-company office, arranged to meet at the BOLO Building at seven-thirty. He did apologize for the after-hours meeting when Marks complained about the hour and the fact that the banks were closed, at which point Jack reminded him about night deposits. In the end, after a little haggling, Marks agreed to the meeting.
Jack felt a little squeamish about having to open the front door of the BOLO Building, but in the end it just made the most sense. This way they could spirit the guy out the back door into the Post van and no one would be the wiser. Too many eyes at Marks’s building, and he seriously doubted the manager ever kept late hours. Coming to the BOLO Building made the most sense. He made a mental note to himself to remember to move Marks’s car after the snatch.
Before he left the building, Jack stopped at Abner’s office and knocked on the door. Cyrus barked shrilly to make sure the computer hacker heard that he and his master wanted entrance to the room. Abner himself opened the door and dropped to his haunches and tussled with the big dog for a few minutes before he reached into his pocket for a treat. “What’s up?”
Jack explained what he’d done. “We’ll hit him with the Taser and load him in the van, then head out to Middleburg. You have all of his accounts, right?”
“Yep, and I was able to crack his passwords, so we’re good to go with his funds. I even have copies of the deeds to properties he owns in Hong Kong and Dubai. How cool is that? The slimeball is loaded, but not for long,” Abner said as he rubbed his hands together in glee. “I hate that bastard, and I don’t even know him.”
Jack laughed. “Wait till you meet the Sandfords.”
“Ah . . . Jack . . . about Maggie . . .”
“Don’t go there, Abner. It is what it is. She was right. It won’t work just trying to scare these guys. The girls would never have been so successful if they didn’t follow through. Maggie has the guts. It’s all doable.”
“If you say so. Okay, I have some stuff I have to print out. I don’t plan on leaving here, so when you all get here at seven-thirty, I’ll be ready to go.”
“Any word from Isabelle?” Jack asked quietly.
Abner shook his head. “Like you say, Jack, it is what it is. Go on, get out of here before you see a grown man cry.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He told him about Nikki and her trip to the Midwest. All Abner did was shake his head. “I’m cooking dinner Christmas Day, and I expect you to show up with a bottle of wine.”
“I’ll be there, Jack.”
“Come on, Cyrus, let’s hit the road. We’ve got things to do and places to go.”
“Woof.”