CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Twelve hours later the team was in Philadelphia and they’d set up a mobile headquarters in connecting suites at the Ritz-Carlton. Tess had been through the emotional ringer the last twenty-four hours, and it had shown in the drawn expression on her face and the shadows under her eyes. But when she’d looked at Deacon that morning, they shone bright with the love she had for him.
It had already been decided that Tess would stay at HQ and watch events unfold on the monitors. Much like the rest of the world. She wasn’t happy about staying behind, but Deacon wasn’t willing to risk her if something went wrong and they failed to stop the attack. If they hadn’t found the trucks ready to depart at the warehouse, they never would’ve been able to save everyone.
By early Sunday morning before they left, Eve had called. It had taken her longer than the twelve hours she’d promised them the night before. But none of them mentioned that to her. The good news was she had the information. And just in time too, because kickoff was only hours away.
“I told you Levkin was the weak link,” she said coldly, though Deacon could see the frustration in her eyes. Levkin must’ve been a harder nut to crack than she’d estimated. “I have full confidence the information he gave me is the truth. It took longer because he was resistant to the truth serum.” She looked at Levi as she said it, as if it were somehow his fault since the serum had been created by the Mossad.
“The Russians have been torturing their own soldiers for years to prepare them to withstand serums such as that,” Levi said. “Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Their methods aren’t as effective as my own country’s.”
“I’d say ineffective,” she said.
Deacon had never seen Eve question a suspect, but he’d never seen her not get the answers she was looking for.
“Give us the play-by-play,” Deacon said. “We’re running out of time.”
“Kickoff is at noon,” she said. “At eleven-thirty, Lieutenant Joshua Sykes, with the 101st Airborne, should be landing on the field. The only problem is we can’t find Lieutenant Sykes.”
“How long has he been missing?” Elias asked.
“The last time he was seen was at dinner last night with a few friends,” she answered. “They said he left early to go back to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep before he had to parachute onto the field today. He went toward South Street and disappeared. We’re keeping this quiet for now. His friends think he got up early and is preparing for the jump.”
“Is that his normal pattern of behavior?” Dante asked.
“Apparently,” she said. “We have every reason to believe that the initial detonation will be attached to whoever is taking Sykes’s place to parachute onto the field. According to Levkin, Egorov will be making his last mission a big one. And Levkin wasn’t happy about it. They both wanted the glory that would come to them and their families after their sacrifice.”
Deacon felt Tess’s hand slip into his, her presence reassuring him that everything would be okay. It had to be okay.
“Your mission is simple,” Eve said. “To take out Egorov before he touches ground and save the lives of everyone in that stadium. This is why we do what we do. We can’t fail. The problem is that you’re going to be on live television, and no one can know what the hell you’re doing or how much danger they’re in. I’ve told you all before that this is a job no one can tell you thank you for.”
“We’ve never done what we do for the thank-yous,” Axel said.
Eve stared at him, her eyes bleak. “Neither have I,” she said. “The Shadow has provided everything you need on the fourth level of the parking garage at Fifteenth and Sansom.”
DEACON TRUSTED ELIAS with his life, and the life of every person in that stadium. He had to. There was no turning back. No second-guessing. And there was no other way.
There was no one more qualified to take a sniper shot at a moving target than the ex-SEAL. The stadium was filled to bursting, crowded with excited fans wearing a mix of black and gold and powder-blue. The decibel level of the crowd made it difficult to hear through their comm units. Even during the pre-game entertainment, the home crowd was riled up with the possibility of a potential win.
The noonday sun was blistering and the air stale with the heat rising from the stands. The crowd was pressed in together as close as they could be, and even the aisles were thick with people as they jostled to get to their seats with drinks that slopped over the tops and popcorn that littered the concrete stairs.
Deacon, Dante, and Levi stood at the end zone, dressed as EMTs, and Axel sat behind the wheel of the ambulance behind them, ready to take off at the first sight of injury. It was the only way they’d been able to think of to be where they needed to be. There was no potential for a second shot if Elias missed. The turn of events would flow too quickly for any of them to react and take Egorov out if Elias’s bullet didn’t find its home.
Elias had slipped his rifle into the stadium undetected, and he had a limited amount of time to scout the best location from which to take the shot based on the information they knew about which end zone Egorov would be coming in from.
“I’m in place,” Elias said through the comms.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said over the loudspeaker. “Please rise for our national anthem.”
At the fifty-yard line, a full orchestra in black tuxedos and sequin dresses sat poised and ready to play. And with his hands in the air, the maestro waved his baton and music filled the stadium. They’d put tiny microphones on all the stringed instruments so they were amplified through the loudspeakers.
“And the rockets’ red glare . . .”
From one end of the stadium red fireworks shot straight into the sky. Deacon breathed a sigh of relief. The fireworks were crucial to their mission.
“The bombs bursting in air . . .”
People’s attention was starting to waver from the flag and fireworks as they noticed the giant American flag parachute making its way toward the field. Deacon’s breath caught as Egorov masterfully maneuvered the chute where he wanted it to go.
“And the home . . . of the . . . brave.”
Fireworks exploded at the other end of the field as Egorov entered the field. And then Deacon saw it happen. He saw Egorov’s body jerk as it was hit with the force of the bullet, straight through his side.
Deacon and the others ran onto the field before Egorov’s feet hit the ground. His landing was hard, and the crowd gasped as they watched the parachuter’s knees buckle and his body crumple to the ground. The fireworks boomed a continual blast, and they were able to shield the body and assess the situation.
Blood bloomed at his side, and Deacon used his body to block the area from the crowd and the news cameras he knew would be on them in moments.
“He’s dead,” Levi confirmed, feeling the pulse in his neck. “Nice shot.”
“Thank you,” Elias said. “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”
Dante went to get the stretcher, and Axel had already gotten out of the ambulance and was waiting with the back doors open so he could help Dante get it out. They lifted Egorov and set him neatly on the stretcher, covering him with one of the thick blankets they used for people in shock.
The blood was more than noticeable now, and Deacon noticed some had gotten on his clothes. They rushed the gurney back to the ambulance and got Egorov loaded inside just as the first news camera made it to them.
They all noticed the black bag strapped to Egorov. And they all noticed how close the bullet had come to going through the bomb instead of flesh and bone.
“Hell of a shot.” Axel let out a low whistle through his teeth.
The comm unit in Deacon’s ear crackled and he heard the sweet sound of Tess’s voice. “That was insane!” she said. “I watched the whole thing on national television and I still have no idea what happened. If I hadn’t heard you say that he was dead I never would’ve had a clue.”
“Marry me, Tess,” Deacon said. He’d had no idea he was going to say the words. They’d just popped out. But now that he’d said them, he desperately wanted to know the answer to the question.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, clearly stunned.
“He said ‘Will you marry me?’ ” Elias said from wherever the hell he was.
“Yes, I believe that’s what he said,” Dante agreed.
“Y’all shut up,” Tess said. “You’re ruining my moment.”
“Don’t mind us,” Axel said. “We’re just along for the ride.”
Deacon didn’t let Tess hear his laughter, afraid she’d take it the wrong way. He didn’t want to get her temper riled at a moment like this.
“I asked you to marry me,” he repeated. “What do you say?”
“Wow,” she said.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tess,” Elias said. “Just give the man an answer. We’re all on pins and needles here.”
This time it was her laughter he heard over the comm units. “I’d hate to leave you in such suspense. I’ll marry you, Deacon Tucker. God help you, I’ll marry you.”