Kodiak Sky

CHAPTER 23

“How do you know of me?”

“I knew a man who knew your father.”

“I need more than that.”

“You’re not getting it,” Baxter replied evenly. “You’re here to serve your president, Commander McCoy, not to ask questions.”

Baxter wasn’t in a great mood to begin with. Dorn was out on the stream getting his fishing in while he had his chief of staff inside doing the dirty work. And what Baxter interpreted as youthful arrogance from the woman wasn’t helping matters.

“Do you understand?”

As Baxter had been rigging up a four-weight rod outside his cabin thirty minutes ago, he’d been informed by one of the president’s aides that he’d be forgoing the fishing to have breakfast with Commander McCoy. Turned out Dorn was impressed with the young woman. The Secret Service was, too, particularly the agents who’d fallen victim to her eerily good ability to stalk prey — and, as she’d predicted, had awoken with epic headaches. At least they’d awoken.

Dorn was impatient to take action, as usual. Though the message from the aide said only to have breakfast with McCoy, because the aide couldn’t know any details, the president’s intent was clear. He wanted to take on Red Cell Seven immediately; he wanted Commander McCoy to lead the attack; and he wanted Baxter to make certain McCoy agreed to join the fight.

“I could walk out of here and go back to what I was doing before if you don’t tell me.”

It was sobering for Baxter to sit across from someone who he was confident could kill him three times over in the moments it would take a Secret Service agent to make it inside this intimate breakfast nook from the double doors that were behind Commander McCoy’s chair.

“And I could have you arrested for insubordination, sent to a south Florida facility the CIA maintains in the Everglades, and you’d never see the light of day again.”

“I’d escape in no time. You’d simply be signing death warrants for a few agents at that camp, because I’d have to kill them to get out. I’ve been to that facility several times. I wouldn’t advise sending me there if you want to keep me penned up for more than twenty-four hours.”

“Yeah, well—”

“It doesn’t impress me that it’s the president who called,” Skylar interrupted. “In the last two years, I’ve probably killed at least a hundred people, all from very close range. Not from across a battlefield, Mr. Baxter. Less than a week ago I killed a twelve-year-old boy because my country ordered me to. Can you even come close to grasping what I’m talking about, what that’s like?”

“No,” he murmured, “of course not.”

Baxter understood very well what she’d done and how it had made her feel. His time in the Office of Naval Intelligence hadn’t been spent cooped up inside an office. But he didn’t want her to know that. He wanted her to underestimate him. Training died hard.

“What’s going on here, Mr. Baxter?”

“There is a clear and present danger with one of this country’s most elite and secret intelligence cells. The cell has gone rogue. We need you to lead the effort to destroy it.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Really?” For the first time she seemed impressed.

“Yes.”

“How do you know it’s gone rogue?”

“Let’s make fully certain we both understand each other before we get to that level of detail.”

“Okay, why me for the job?”

“You come highly recommended.”

“From whom?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Mr. Baxter, I—”

“It doesn’t matter why we chose you, Commander McCoy. We have a serious security issue for the country and for the president, and we need to solve it immediately.” Baxter hesitated. “Haven’t you noticed all the agents running around here this morning? Can’t you hear that helicopter?”

She turned her head slightly and concentrated for a few moments. “That isn’t just one helicopter, sir. I count four.”

Baxter masked a grin as he spooned oatmeal from the bowl in front of him, making certain to include several raisins in the spoonful. He would have had no idea how many helicopters were circling around out there if someone had asked. But he had no doubt that the number she’d just given him was accurate. Commander McCoy had an unsettlingly impressive confidence about her. President Dorn had picked up on that, too. She was one of those people in life who actually hit the hype. They’d both recognized it immediately.

“I think you just answered the ‘why me’ question,” Baxter said. “Now, let’s get down to those details.”

“I need to know, sir.”

He glanced up just as he was about to consume the spoonful of oatmeal. “What?”

“I need to know who that man was, the man who knew my father.”

She wasn’t going any further until she had an answer. That was clear. “It wasn’t just some man who knew your father, Commander McCoy,” he answered as he slowly put the spoon back down into the bowl. “It was me. I knew your father, Kevin, directly from my days in the Office of Naval Intelligence.”

All of this information was still highly classified, but it didn’t really need to be anymore. And hopefully, knowing all of it would quickly get her over her doubts about what was going on here.

“Your father wasn’t just a crab boat captain, Commander. Occasionally, he and his crew worked with the United States government as well when they were out on the Bering Sea, specifically for ONI.”

“How?”

“They dropped off and picked up U.S. spies to and from our submarines. Spies who were going to or coming back from top-secret missions all over Asia. By using your father’s ship, the intelligence officers could keep a low profile as they left for missions or were on their way home. It was perfect. Your father was a brave man. He operated those missions in any kind of weather.”

“I already knew how brave he was,” Skylar said quietly.

“There’s something else you might want to know.”

“What’s that?”

“The name of your father’s ship.”

“It was the Alaskan Star,” she said. “I knew that from a long time ago, when I was a little girl. He took me out on it a few times. I loved that ship. Tell me something I don’t know, Mr. Baxter.”

She’d fallen right for it, and Baxter rather liked that. “Alaskan Star was its christened name, Commander McCoy. But that wasn’t its code name at ONI.” Baxter stared back at her for several moments as she gazed at him, and what he saw in the intensity of her expression was fascinating. It was as if she knew what he was going to say and the emotion was already affecting her. “Your father was very specific about what he wanted the classified name of his vessel to be. Inside ONI, it was called the Kodiak Sky.” As he spoke the words her eyes went glassy. Just for an instant, but she’d been affected. “Now,” he continued, “let’s get to those details, Sky.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”