Kodiak Sky

CHAPTER 38

“Good afternoon, Henry,” Baxter said politely as he eased into the same chair he’d sat in the last time they’d met in Espinosa’s home study. The night they’d discussed the Order that made Red Cell Seven untouchable. The night Baxter had unleashed his ominous warning about sexual skeletons. “I appreciate you being available for me on such short notice.”

“Of course.”

Espinosa’s response sounded cordial, but Baxter knew the chief justice nominee wasn’t at all happy about this meeting. Beneath the calm exterior Espinosa was nervous, and justifiably so. The silent current running through this meeting was strained — which was exactly as Baxter wanted. It would make Espinosa pliable, like putty.

“That was a hell of a thing that happened in Harpers Ferry yesterday.”

“Yes,” Espinosa agreed, “it was.”

“I think we’re all safe at this point. But it’s still a good idea for the major players in town to lay low for a while.”

“Your boss didn’t lay low last night,” Espinosa pointed out. “That was quite a show he put on at Andrews.”

Baxter nodded. There was no denying David Dorn’s flair for the dramatic — and his understanding of how to use television. His approval rating had soared to almost ninety percent by ten o’clock this morning. No one seemed to care about his indiscretion in Vermont all those years ago. Only that he’d “manned up” and gone to meet Shannon at the airport as soon as she landed — as well as quickly defused another major terrorist attack. His tide couldn’t get much higher.

“It worked out well for him,” Baxter observed.

“It seems as if everything always does.”

Usually, Baxter agreed, though there was an issue this time. It turned out Shannon was very sick. She’d been taken from Andrews Air Force Base directly to Walter Reed Hospital and was now lying unconscious in the intensive care unit.

Now President Dorn had fallen ill, too. Doctors were running tests on Shannon and the president, and Baxter had left orders with his staff to call him as soon as the results were in. Baxter figured it was simply a bad bug, and Dorn would be back in the White House saddle quickly. Nothing ever seemed to slow the president down for long.

“Let’s get to the point,” Baxter said brusquely. “It’s time to—”

“First,” Espinosa cut in, “tell me how you knew to call and warn me the other day.”

“What are you talking about?” Baxter demanded, irritated at the interruption.

“How did you know what was going to happen? How did you know I could be a target for those people who were caught in Harpers Ferry?”

“I received a last-second intel report from the CIA,” Baxter lied.

It had been Shane Maddux who’d alerted him, but Espinosa didn’t need to know that. No one did. It seemed strange that Maddux would come to the rescue like that with the nugget of vitally important information, but so be it. Now was not the time for questions, and Baxter would never violate the personal loyalty Maddux had shown, giving the warning, by giving away his source. It had occurred to Baxter that Maddux must somehow be involved in the terrorist plot, but no one had died. Perhaps Maddux had actually had a hand in foiling it.

“Now,” Baxter said firmly as he pulled two pieces of faded paper from the manila envelope that lay on his lap and then another, fresher one, “let’s get to why I’m here.”

“Did you have Chief Justice Bolger killed?” Espinosa asked evenly. “Was that really an accident on Constitution Avenue? Or were you behind it, Stewart?”

“Goddamn it,” Baxter hissed, surprised at the insolence Espinosa continued to show. “Don’t interrupt me again, Henry.”

It didn’t really matter to Baxter that Espinosa had put two and two together and correctly suspected the White House’s role in Bolger’s death. Espinosa would never say anything to law enforcement, because he might come under scrutiny as well — Baxter would make sure he did, and Espinosa must suspect that, too. After all, Espinosa would have a hell of a motive for being involved in a conspiracy to kill Chief Justice Bolger, and Baxter could easily connect the dots to him for law enforcement — even if the trail was completely manufactured.

And what would be the point of Espinosa saying anything? Bolger was dead. Nothing would change that. And now Espinosa was chief justice. He’d reached the pinnacle of the judicial system in the United States. He’d achieved his lifelong goal. Wasn’t that the real point?

Even more critical to Espinosa, Baxter had the video and all of its terrible, telltale pixels.

What infuriated Baxter was that, even in the face of the video coming out and being promoted by Dorn to chief justice, Espinosa still had the balls and the arrogance to ask these questions.

Well, there would be no more of them after this back-and-forth. If Espinosa needed a sledgehammer to the forehead, so be it.

“One more goddamn question out of you, Henry,” Baxter said angrily, “and I send that video to the press while you watch me do it. You got me?”

Espinosa stared at Baxter defiantly for several moments. Then his gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, sir,” he answered obediently.

“It’s time to put an end to Red Cell Seven once and for all,” Baxter announced as he rose from the chair, handed Espinosa the papers he’d removed from the envelope, and then returned to his seat.

Commander McCoy had gone radio silent, and it was time to give up on the president’s “civil war” idea as well as on Kodiak Four. Baxter hadn’t even bothered to discuss it with Dorn. He’d made the executive decision himself when Dorn still wasn’t out of bed by noon.

“In your hands,” Baxter explained, “you have a directive, which you will sign and stamp with your seal as chief justice of the United States of America. That action will officially, finally, and for all time end the existence of Red Cell Seven.”

“I haven’t even been confirmed yet,” Espinosa pointed out.

Baxter removed his cell phone from his pocket and put it down conspicuously on the small table beside his chair. “I don’t care.” He pointed at the papers Espinosa was holding. “In your hands are also the two original Orders that President Nixon signed in 1973 to create Red Cell Seven. Today, more than four decades later, you and I will put an end to the insanity of protecting this unit at any cost. You will sign the directive I just presented you, and you won’t even tell the other justices what you’ve done.” Baxter pointed at his phone. “Otherwise, you know what will happen.”

“You have the second original Order?” Espinosa asked in a hushed voice as he glanced down at the papers he was clutching. “It’s here, too?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get it?”

Baxter enjoyed the shock registering in Espinosa’s expression. “Don’t worry about it, Henry,” he snapped. “Now that you’ve seen them both, I want you to—”

Baxter was interrupted by a commotion outside the study.

“You can’t come in here like this,” a woman yelled shrilly. “My God, I’m calling the police!”

“Jesus,” Troy whispered as he finished the short letter and the weight of everything cascaded down on him. He brought the tiny vial up in front of his face as he lay in the hospital bed. “I need to call Jack,” he murmured to himself, swallowing hard. He was still very weak. “Right now.”