Distress Signal, page 16
Kirk exploded onto the scene, frightening the child. He snatched the papers up while the mother grabbed her daughter.
Cora set the coffees on the table. “Oh, here, let me help.”
On the floor on all fours, she scooped up the papers. “You get the diary,” she whispered.
“What is this?” the little girl asked.
Her mother tried to take the files from Cora, who stood. “I’m sorry but these are top secret files hidden here by my friend who is a special agent. We came to retrieve them. If you don’t want your family to be in danger, then you need to leave.”
Sometimes the truth sounded ridiculous, but maybe it would have the right effect.
The woman laughed, but Cora remained serious. She held up her arm. “See this? It’s a gunshot wound.” Then she glanced at the family.
That did it. The mother’s face took on a look of horror. “Hank, let’s get out of here.” After gathering up their things, loading cups in diaper bags and grabbing toys, the family retreated from the café. Cora wondered if they lived on the island or had come for a weekend retreat. If it were the latter, they might never come back.
Kirk approached Cora. “How did you do that?”
“I told her the truth.”
“You what?”
“Not the details, but enough to scare her into keeping her family safe.”
“Good job. Maybe you could consider working for—”
“No, thanks.”
They sat at the table previously occupied by the small family. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“It doesn’t matter. Now, get your diary so we can get out of here.”
Kirk reached into the tight space—easily accessed by the small child—and pulled out the leather-bound book.
Cora eyed it. “If I hadn’t been searching for a weapon in the side table drawers, we wouldn’t have the diary. We should read it before you hand it over.”
“I read some of it, and I intend to finish it. Just not here.”
A man slid into the seat next to Cora. “I’m so glad I found you.”
“Commander Jackson,” Kirk said. “What are you doing here? Our meeting isn’t until tomorrow.” How did you find me?
“The Coast Guard told me they had dropped you off. I couldn’t risk the information you found getting into the wrong hands.” He eyed the leather-bound book. “What’s that?”
“It’s Drake’s diary.”
The hint of a frown crept over Jackson’s forehead then disappeared, but he didn’t appear surprised. At all. “You did good, son. I’m so proud of you. I’ve always thought of you as my own son. You know that.”
Satisfaction beamed in Kirk’s eyes, along with grief. Understandable. Something else she understood—Kirk needed this affirmation. He’d done all of this for Commander Jackson as much as for himself and the job. He’d done this to find out what happened to Drake and, unfortunately, hadn’t liked what he’d found.
“Did you read it?” Jackson asked, referring to the diary.
“I...I hadn’t finished.”
“Can I have it?”
“You know the protocol. My superior is expecting to debrief, in which case I’ll turn this all over to NCIS and then they will hand it on to you.”
“Now, son, you wouldn’t even be working undercover on this assignment to learn what happened to my son, your best friend, if it weren’t for me pulling those strings. I thought we had an agreement between us. I want what belongs to Drake. At least let me read it first, then you can have it back. We can sit right here while I read it.”
“Sir, I’m afraid you’re not going to like what you read.”
Intensity poured off the navy officer and Cora leaned away from him.
“Why is that?” he asked.
“If I may,” Cora said.
“Cora, don’t.” Kirk glared at her.
“I worked with Drake. He was a good man. I read the files and it appeared he was gathering information to take the drug-running participants who traded military secrets down.”
Yeah, maybe she’d said too much. But why waste time with this man—a commander in the navy? He would find out sooner or later.
Jackson didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her. But he looked at Kirk. “You let her read them?”
“She found them when she was abducted, sir. She found his diary, too.”
“So you’re not the one to be commended, but rather she is.” Jackson’s words had to sting Kirk.
Cora felt compelled to stand up for him. “Kirk risked his life a thousand times over for me. If it wasn’t for him, you’d never know the truth about what happened to Drake. We wouldn’t have the files.”
“All the same, I’d like to look at them. I can do that now. We can sit right here. I want to know what you learned about my son. That was our agreement.”
“It was, at that.” Kirk pursed his lips and pushed the diary and the file folder over.
Jackson took them and opened the leather-bound diary. “I need closure about my son’s death. I’m sure you can understand that.”
“I do, sir.” All the oomph had gone out of Kirk.
Cora wished she could somehow restore it for him, but it didn’t work that way. He had to get it back for himself.
Jackson flipped through the pages of the diary, only stopping to truly read a few times, then he shut it and passed it back. “Now you can hand it over to your superior, but I don’t think they’ll need it. There’s no mention of Trigon.”
Cora’s pulse soared for no reason she could fully understand. Then it hit her...and Jackson, too. His face was the one to pale this time.
He and Kirk studied each other, both unwilling to speak.
Jackson swiped at the file and made to stand.
“I never told you about Trigon, sir.” Kirk stood and pressed a fist into the file on the table, preventing the commander from taking it.
“No, I suppose you didn’t.” Jackson pressed a gun against Cora’s rib cage.
* * *
Kirk’s heart cracked and a cold chill blasted through him unlike anything he’d felt before. Jackson was the naval officer passing the secrets. How could Kirk have been such an idiot? “I thought of you like a father, just like you said you thought of me like a son. Drake was my best friend when we were kids. So, for my sake, please let her walk away. There’s no need to involve Cora.”
Kirk kept trusting the wrong people. Why hadn’t Drake mentioned his father in his notes? Was it possible that he didn’t know Commander Jackson was the contact? Or had he suspected him and had been trying to prove his suspicions wrong?
Jackson frowned, appearing to regret the words he had to say. “Like it or not, son, she’s already in the middle of this. Bring the file and the diary. Both of you are coming with me. Try anything and I’ll kill Cora. It’s obvious that you care for her.”
Her brows were deeply furrowed as she flicked her gaze to him. Kirk expected to see utter disappointment there, but instead saw something else. Confidence. Trust. He read them plainly in her eyes.
Come on, Kirk. You’ve got this.
If only he could believe in himself the way she appeared to believe in him. Or was he delusional?
How did she expect him to get them out of this? With Jackson holding Cora tightly to him, the gun pressed into her side, Kirk wouldn’t risk trying to get the upper hand.
Jackson led them to an alley behind the café where a black sedan with dark windows waited.
“Open the trunk,” Jackson demanded.
Cora did as he asked.
Kirk was helpless to do anything at the moment. But he had to find a way out of this. Whatever it took, he would save Cora again and end this once and for all.
“Now, you get in the trunk.” Kirk followed the man’s instructions.
Jackson stood far enough back to ensure that Kirk couldn’t relieve him of the weapon he continued to hold on Cora. Jackson squeezed her injured arm, probably hoping to solicit a cry from her, and definitely to warn Kirk.
To Cora’s credit, though her face appeared pained, she kept silent.
He caught her gaze and held it. Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to get us out of this. I always do.
While she wasn’t a mind reader, he hoped she understood him on some deep level. He hoped she understood that he would do anything to protect her because she meant the world to him. Nothing was more important to him.
Once Kirk was inside, Jackson made to close the trunk but reached in. Kirk saw the gun coming his way and tried to move, but Jackson was too fast.
Everything went black.
Someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. Kirk moaned and tried to move away. But it was no use. The hammer was inside his head.
“Kirk, you’re awake,” a familiar voice whispered.
He knew that voice. He treasured that voice. “Cora...” He peeled his eyes open to see a dimly lit bedroom. They were situated on the bed, tied back-to-back.
“Where are we?”
“Drake’s house. Or, at least, the house that held the files. We’re in one of the bedrooms.”
“What else can you tell me?”
“I’m pretty sure we’re going to die.” Her voice quavered. “I think he’s going to burn the house down.”
“Yeah, I smell the gasoline.” That would lead investigators to believe it was arson, but only if anyone thought to investigate. Jackson could have the power to nix that. With the house gone, the files and diary, too, and Kirk and Cora dead, anyone who could tell the full story would be gone.
If only Cora had shared something with the Coast Guard. If only Kirk had told Matt anything of what he’d found, something he’d planned to do in his debriefing tomorrow.
“Let’s see if we can maneuver off this bed. Then we can find something to cut our ties and go out the window.”
“Um... The windows are boarded over. It won’t be that simple.”
“You’ve had some time to think about this.”
“Yes. I was worried about you. It took you a long time to wake up. I—I thought he’d killed you.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “How’s...how’s your head?”
“It’s been better. Cora... I...”
“What, Kirk? Please tell me.”
“I don’t know if you feel the same, but I want you to know you mean everything to me. I’m going to get us out of this—” God willing “—and then...”
“We can talk about what happens next once we’re free because you’re right, we’re getting out of this. And, Kirk, I feel the same. It’s...always been you.”
Despite the grim circumstances, he grinned. “Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s get out of here.”
He tried to shimmy toward his side of the bed. “You coming with me?”
“Sure. Let’s do this.”
“Cora.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“It’s like the navy commander guy said, I was already in the middle of it. I started the whole thing when I became suspicious and decided to investigate. If you hadn’t been there, I would have died after the first attack without anyone being the wiser. Maybe that’s what happened to Drake.”
A wave of grief welled up inside him. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
“And we’ll never find his remains. His story will be told, though. We’ll make sure of it.”
“Perhaps, if the navy allows it. It could all be classified when this is over.”
She frowned. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Another reason why I didn’t want you telling anyone what you knew.”
They rolled off the bed, Cora onto his back.
“Ow!” she said.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure, that just hurt my arm. Now what do we do?”
Kirk had tried to protect her from the fall. “See if we can get to our feet.”
“That’s not going to be easy.”
“I’ll take the burden of it, since I weigh more than you.”
“And you’re stronger.”
His lips quirked. “I don’t know. You’re pretty strong.”
“But you have a lot of muscle, Kirk.”
The way she said it, he thought he might just blush—and he wasn’t a blushing kind of guy—but no time for that. “We have to hurry.”
With a grunt and a shove, he forced them onto their feet. He could already smell smoke. Not good. The boarded window could be their only way out of this.
“Something’s not right,” she said.
“You think?”
“No need to be sarcastic. I mean, Jackson had meant to poison us, or make us sleep somehow, so that when the house burned up it would look like we’d slept together and died in a fire. He didn’t want you waking up.”
“How do you know this?” he asked.
“He told me.”
“Well, he must have changed his mind.”
“And that could mean there’s a way for us to get out of this, which doesn’t make sense.” Cora coughed.
“It doesn’t matter right now. I can’t remove the boards without free hands. Let’s look for something on the dresser or in the drawers.”
“There,” she said. “I see something.”
He glanced her way. “What is it?”
“Nail clippers.”
He didn’t want to give up but at the moment, he was out of ideas. He could care less if anyone was disappointed. He just wanted to save Cora. Maybe he wanted to save himself, too. If they survived this, he vowed to work up the nerve to ask her to dinner. To try again.
God, please help us out of this. I don’t have to be the hero, after all, I promise. Send someone else to help, but please save us.
Heat penetrated the walls. The fire crackled on the other side of the door as paint bubbled on the walls.
“I’m not ready to die!” Cora cried.
Her words shattered his already cracked heart.
FIFTEEN
Oh, Lord, I can’t believe it’s come to this. Jonna and Sadie are going to be so upset with me. And poor Kirk, please save him. Save us.
“I have an idea.” Kirk coughed, his voice hoarse.
“I’m all ears.” She wished her hands were free so she could protect her mouth and nose from the smoke.
“I want you to keep working on these ropes,” he said. “You’re the expert with knots. Keep trying to get your hands free.”
“I haven’t stopped trying.” Nor had she made much progress. “Is that your big idea?”
“No. This is the same room we were in before. The window is boarded because it was the one broken when I exchanged gunfire with Lance.”
“So? I fail to see how that makes any difference.”
“I had to practically climb the wall to get into that window. The way the house is situated on the mountain, it’s a decent distance off the ground, a bigger drop on this side.” He shimmied them over to the boarded window. “Which would mean the nails were driven in from the inside, not the outside.”
“Kirk. Who cares? Smoke will overcome us soon.” She hacked. “I didn’t do that on purpose to emphasize my point.”
He positioned them sideways.
“What are you doing?” Smoke began to filter beneath the door. “Shouldn’t we crouch close to the ground and stay low or something?”
In reply, he simply grunted. Seconds ticked by, then he said, “I’m using those fingernail clippers to see if I can remove the nails.”
“Oh, please.” Her knees might just give out. That would get them nowhere.
Fire was the absolute worst death she could think of. Drowning didn’t come close to burning.
“Cora, please hold still. Hold me up. Help me if you can.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” He was trying. At least he was trying.
“There, I got one nail out.”
She eyed the door. At this rate, it wouldn’t be enough.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “And you’re right.”
He was a mind reader, was he? “Don’t give up, Kirk. We have to keep trying. You’re doing great. Keep working on the nails.”
“I have another idea,” he said.
“A better one, I hope.”
“We’re going for a walk.”
She maneuvered with him as best as she could.
“There’s a brass lamp. Just like the one you used on Coburn.”
“Is that your idea? What am I supposed to do with that? Do you want me to bash through those boards? That’s not going to happen.” Unless...wait.
The ropes dropped from her hands. “Kirk, I did it! I freed my hands.” Now they were getting somewhere!
They just might have a chance!
“Great, now untie mine.”
She did as he asked, but it was much more complicated—she knew because she had been the one to tie the knot.
“What’s taking so long?”
“Um...it’s a constrictor knot. It can be impossible to untie.”
“Oh, great.”
“It’s a good knot, what can I say?”
He huffed. “You couldn’t have just faked it?”
“No, Jackson was watching. He threatened to kill you if I didn’t secure you so you couldn’t get out. I was trying to save your life.”
“So that I could just die later because of your impossible-to-untie knot?”
The ropes slid away. “Okay. I’m done.”
He twisted around and stared at her. “Cora, you’re amazing.”
Without wasting another second, Kirk worked on the nails.
Cora grabbed sheets from the bed and stuffed them under the door. She kept the pillowcases to cover their faces if needed. “That should slow the smoke though it’s already intolerable in this room.”
He huffed, sweat pouring from his face and soaking his shirt. “The nails are out.”
