One Is Evil Page 2

  Ryan ran his finger along the soft, tanned skin of her cheek and she gave him a hint of a smile. “What a day,” he said.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the house. “You’re home now and that’s what matters.”

  He followed, like a glider behind the tow plane. “You know, you’re pretty sexy for a physics geek.”

  She squeezed his fingers a touch too tight. “That’s why you married me.” They reached the kitchen and she let go, but her eyes still had that look.

  “Hi, dad.” Zach’s voice shot through the room like a blast of ice water. “Had a good trip, huh?”

  “Hi, kid.” Ryan tussled the youngster’s hair.

  “Hey, don’t damage the merchandise.” Zach pulled back and smoothed out his hair. “I have an image, you know.”

  “Yeah, okay. Got it.” He slipped his arm around Zach’s shoulder. “I heard something about a seriously good mark in science. Any truth to that?”

  “One hundred percent,” he shot back. “That’s tough to beat.”

  “No kidding. What was the test?”

  “We had to dissect a frog and label all the parts. Easy-peasey. I like that stuff.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “Our son, the thirteen-year-old coroner.”

  “Yeah, that sounds cool.” Zach eyes grew larger. “People would be easier, the parts are bigger.”

  Alexis shuddered and gave Zach one of her patented mom-looks, then turned to Ryan. “Do you want to change before we head out?” When he shook his head, she said, “We should probably get going.”

  “Sure.”

  Alexis yelled at the hallway. “Patricia, come and say hi to your dad before we leave.”

  Patricia poked her head around the corner and came running. Ryan scooped her up and gave her exactly the right amount of attention for a nine-year-old who hadn’t seen her father for a couple of days, which included a piggyback around the house and hanging her upside down until she squealed. He gave her a final hug and she scurried off to watch television after promising to behave for her older brother. Zach followed them out to the car, his head nodding like a bobblehead as they went over the rules, then he raced back into the house.

  They slipped into the car and Alexis put her hand on Ryan’s arm before he could back out of the driveway. “Is the JASSM technology actually in the safe at Synergy?”

  “It is.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Hard to wrap your head around, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty scary stuff.”

  “That’s an understatement.” He was quiet for a minute, then said, “It’s a first strike weapon, Alexis.” He put the car in drive and stepped on the gas. “If the wrong people got their hands on this thing…”

  Alexis sensed there was more on his mind and she waited.

  “Do you know how long a person has to live from the time they see the incoming missile?”

  “No idea.”

  “Less than two seconds.” He shook his head. “Not very long, is it?”

  “Hardly long enough to stick your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye,” Alexis said.

  He glanced over at her, but she wasn’t smiling.

  chapter two

  The narrow road that wound from the street to the Blackwell mansion was bordered by swaying palms, their trunks wrapped in strands of glittering lights. The warm air felt humid and the sky was threatening, but so far the rain was holding off. Ryan rounded the final curve and a sleek bungalow with shades of Frank Lloyd Wright came into view. Every light was on and it shone like a crown jewel.

  “I love this house,” Alexis said as they pulled up to the valet.

  “I know.” Ryan handed over the car keys, took the numbered tag, and they headed for the front door. “Hey, what are the Blackwell kids up to?” he asked.

  Since she had given up working, Alexis had become the hub for their social lives. Between Orlando and Washington D.C., they had a wealth of connections and she handled the steady flow of invites they received, delicately declining or enthusiastically accepting. She also kept up on the minutiae of people’s lives, and knew who was doing what.

  “Their daughter just got accepted to Harvard,” she said, grabbing at her hair which was blowing every direction in the wind.

  “Good to know. What’s her name?”

  “Emily.”

  Ryan motioned toward a man and a woman near the front entrance, both with earpieces and watching the new arrivals. “Check it out. Secret service.”

  “I think I recognize the woman,” Alexis said, still clutching her hair.

  “Seriously?” Ryan said as they entered the house. “Dark suit, no smile—they all look the same.”

  “No, I think it’s her.” They stood in the foyer for a few seconds getting their bearings. “You ready for this?” she asked and he nodded.

  Senator Ernst Blackwell was an icon in Washington, sitting on the appropriations committee responsible for both the Patriot and Joint-Air-to-Surface Standoff Missiles, and lifelong friends with General Mark MacIntyre, the chair of the Joint Chiefs. Without his influence, Synergy wouldn’t be working on the stealth version of the missile. That was one reason Ryan and Alexis were going to the Blackwell’s party. The other reason was because they liked Ernst and Alice Blackwell.

  The party was in the garden and people were standing in groups around the pool and on the trimmed lawn, chatting and laughing. They were barely through the patio door when Debbie Mayther, a longtime friend, approached them. The three of them shifted to a quiet spot by the cabana and she turned to Alexis.

  “Ready for tomorrow night?” Her face was alive and excited.

  “You bet,” Alexis said. She glanced at Ryan, who looked puzzled. “I’m playing with Debbie in the club championship. I was going to tell you, but you were in Washington.”

  “My doubles partner is laid up with a pulled muscle,” Debbie said, and put her arm around Alexis. Few women could make Alexis look small, and Debbie was one of them. “Lucky me.”

  Ryan saw the competitive edge creep into his wife’s eyes. Thirty-five and she was still all in for the challenge. “You two are going to kick some serious butt.”

  “Damn straight.” Debbie gave Alexis a big hug and headed back into the crowd around the pool.

  “What time do you play?” Ryan asked, helping himself to an appetizer as a waiter passed by with a tray.

  “Six. Are you going to come and watch?”

  Ryan grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it. I love watching you play. So do the kids. You’re a really good player.”

  “Back in the day, maybe,” she said, watching Debbie work her way through the throng.

  “Oh, my,” Alexis said as an elderly woman materialized out of the crowd and headed directly toward them. She was early eighties with a heavy head of white hair, swept back from her face and tucked under a bright red hat.

  Alexis lit up and she whispered to Ryan. “See, I told you I recognized that Secret Service woman.”

  “Auntie Laura,” Alexis said, gently grasping the woman’s hand.

  “Alexis.” Laura Neilson gave her a substantial hug. “And Ryan. What a delightful surprise.”

  “Oh my gosh. What brings you to Orlando?” Alexis asked, her hand still in the woman’s grasp.

  “Popped in for a few days and ran into Ernst and Alice.” She finally let go of Alexis. “Don’t you look wonderful.”

  “Thank you,” Alexis said.

  “Let’s have a photo,” Laura said as she spied a newspaper photographer heading their way.

  The photographer walked a bit faster as she saw them crowding together for her. She framed them against the background and shot a handful of pictures. “Thank you,” she said, asking Ryan and Alexis to jot down their names so she got the spelling correct. She didn’t bother asking Laura Neilson.

  When they were alone again, Ryan asked, “How is William?”

  “Keeping his head above water, I think. I seldom see him these days. Mostly, I keep up with what he’s doing by watching CNN.”

  Ryan shook his head. “Well, he’s a busy man.”

  “I suppose.” Laura turned back to Alexis. “I hear Zach is going to try hockey this winter, and Patricia is back in dance classes.”

  “All true,” Alexis said. “Very good.”

  Laura Neilson winked. “I’m connected.”

  Alexis felt a tap on her shoulder and turned. Two people were hovering behind her with wide smiles. The man was at least six-four, with huge shoulders, a barrel chest, and a clean-shaven face. The woman was large-boned and tall, with wide hips and shoulders.

  Alexis gasped. “Mom. Dad. I didn’t know you were in Orlando.”

  “It’s Ernst and Alice’s party,” Percy Rothchild said, giving his daughter a bear hug. “Not a chance we’d miss it.”

  “How long are you staying?” Alexis asked.

  “We’ll be heading back home tomorrow,” Etonia said as she gave Laura Neilson a warm smile.

  The conversation revolved around everything from Alexis and Ryan’s children to the current state of affairs in Washington and how things were going at Synergy. It was public knowledge that his firm had won the contract to work on the missile, and he gave his father-in-law the standard pitch about what a massive opportunity it was and how focused his team was on the work. Nothing more. Nothing that could be considered confidential. After ten minutes, Percy cut away to work the room, leaving Ryan with the women.

  With another few minutes of conversation under his belt, Ryan spied a new arrival he needed to speak with, and made his excuses.

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; “Not to worry,” Laura replied. “We three ladies will find a soft spot to sit and catch up on things.” They headed to a nearby couch under the watchful eye of her secret service detail, and when they were tucked in with fresh drinks, Laura said to Alexis, “Now, tell me everything. I have nothing but time.”

  An hour later, Mrs. Neilson declared herself tired and headed for the door after giving both Alexis and Etonia long, sincere hugs. Alexis and her mom stayed sequestered on the couch, away from the crowds, and caught up on the latest news in each other’s lives. Eventually, Percy joined them and finally Ryan finished making the rounds and sat down with his in-laws.

  “So how is retirement?” Ryan asked Percy. “Travelling, getting out on the boat, sleeping in?”

  “None of the above,” Percy stated with a good degree of firmness. “Etonia is keeping me busier than ever. I don’t have five minutes to rub together.”

  His wife gave him a look. “Hardly. Percy does what he wants.”

  The evening wore on, with the four of them staying put as others stopped by to visit. The vice president made a quick appearance late in the evening and took a couple of minutes to chat before being whisked away by his handlers. It was pushing eleven o’clock when Percy and Etonia called it a night.

  Once the Rothchilds had departed, Ryan and Alexis made their way to the bar. “Laura Neilson. She really likes you.”

  Alexis brightened. “I think she does. We go back a long way.”

  “Spending all those summers together when you were growing up,” Ryan said.

  “A bit of luck, that. My parents buying the beach house next door to the Neilson’s.”

  “Then their son goes on to become president.”

  “Who would have thought?” she said.

  They reached the front of the line and ordered drinks, soda for Ryan, who was driving. “What was he like, back then? Before he got into politics.”

  Alexis considered the question, then said, “I was just a kid, and he was older. I’m not sure.”

  “Right, but you knew him personally, away from the cameras.”

  She gave it some serious thought, then said, “He was warm, and very approachable. He seemed to care about the people around him. He’d come and sit on the dock with us and joke around. Water fights and everyone getting thrown in the ocean. He was fun.”

  “Fun? Warm? Those don’t sound like words used to describe a politician.”

  “Well, he really was.”

  They were leaving the bar with drinks in hand when the crowd parted, and a man headed directly for them, like a bear coming out of the forest. He was Ryan’s height but almost twice his girth, and his strides were long and determined. Senator Ernst Blackwell had spotted them.

  “Ryan, Alexis.” He shook Ryan’s hand and gave Alexis a long hug. “How is my favorite young couple?”

  “Busy,” Alexis said. “At least I am. Ryan heads to the office every day and puts his feet on his desk. I have the kids.”

  Blackwell laughed, a full-bodied roar. He winked at her from under a thick eyebrow. “He turned me down for a round of golf the other day, so he must be doing something over there at Synergy.”

  Alexis looked skeptical. “I’m not so sure.”

  They talked for a few minutes, mostly about Emily and her upcoming stint at Harvard, then Blackwell said, “Alexis, can I have Ryan for a bit?”

  “Of course.” She hugged him and wandered off in search of a good conversation.

  Blackwell’s stony face was all business. “JASSM. What’s happening?”

  “I brought the specs back from D.C. today and put them under lock and key in the vault.”

  “This is the one that’s going to put you on top, Ryan.”

  “I know, and believe me when I say how much your confidence in us has helped. I know you pushed for us to get the contract.”

  Blackwell nodded. “My neck is on the line, but that’s not what is important. Staying on schedule and delivering a stealth version of the missile is the key. The missile is already a hell of a weapon, but if you can make it invisible…”

  “I understand the gravity of what we’re doing.”

  “Do you?” Blackwell asked. “If the new design fell into the wrong hands…” He hesitated for a moment. “They could launch a missile against any number of countries and there would be no way of tracing it back to its origin. One of these missiles, with a rogue hand on the trigger, could start a war.”

  Ryan swallowed hard. “I do understand, senator.”

  Blackwell stared at him for a good fifteen seconds, then said, “Okay, fix the thing, make it invisible, and keep the technology secure. Don’t fucking lose it, Ryan.”

  No one had ever accused Ernst Blackwell of being subtle.

  chapter three

  The screen at the front of the room came to life. It flashed an FBI warning that promised a lengthy jail term if the viewer discussed the Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Missile with any non-classified person. Then sky and clouds appeared on the screen and moments later the back of a JASSM missile appeared, flying at a high rate of speed, a slight vapor trail behind it. Twenty seconds into the footage the missile changed course and plunged earthward. The F/A-18F fighter that was filming it followed.

  It was almost possible to feel the g-forces as the fighter dove in sync with the missile. The ground was approaching at an alarming rate and at the last possible second the fighter pulled up while the camera swiveled and locked on the missile. Then it hit. A puff of dirt, hardly noticeable, plumed thirty feet into the air. Nothing for three seconds, then the earth came apart. Dirt and rocks spewed over two hundred feet into the air and littered a five-hundred-yard-wide area when it came plunging back down. A huge crater, almost one hundred feet across, scarred the earth where the missile had hit. Then the screen went black. White lettering rolled across.

  Target:Subterranean bunker

  Target depth:150 feet below surface

  Percentage destroyed:100%

  “That,” Ryan Chamberlain said to the room of stunned faces, “is what we’re building.

  The lights came on and he stood quietly for a minute, letting the words sink in. He made eye contact individually with all sixteen people in the room, gauging their reactions. They ranged from fear to excitement and almost everything in between.

  “We have a tough deadline ahead of us. The time frames are short, security is tight, and a lot of important eyes at the Pentagon and in Washington are watching. They’ve put their trust in our team,” he said, holding up a thick document that listed all the team members, “and this project could make or break our standing with the military. We need this one.”

  A few heads were nodding, but mostly there were a lot of serious expressions, and a palpable nervousness filled the room. Ryan continued by addressing specific personnel individually. Cameron Nelson appeared to be the most enthusiastic, so Ryan started with him.

  “Dr. Nelson, your team will head up the GPS systems. They were thought to be jam resistant, but have been proven otherwise. They must be jam resistant.”

  “They will be,” Nelson said.

  “And hopefully on schedule, Cam.” Ryan’s tone sucked a bit of the seriousness out of the room.

  “Oh, well, that changes things.” There was a spattering of laughter and the mood lightened somewhat.

  Ryan continued. “Dr. Anderson, you and your team are tasked with autonomous terminal guidance.”

  She shifted around in her chair, looking a bit uncomfortable, then said, “We’re on it.”

  Ryan continued doling out the assignments. “Mr. Holden and his group get inertial measurement and inertial guidance.”

  Holden, a stern looking man, simply nodded.

  “Dr. Childers gets the plum.” He stared directly at her. “Figuring out the stealth technology is all yours. You get to make our missile completely invisible. You’ll be working closely with both the body design and engine teams. No vapor trail, no signature to even the most sensitive monitoring systems.”