“Most assuredly,” Danny nodded. “If you’regoing to try to go in there yourself, we’re going to have to makeit hurt them a little.”
Hugh smiled at that. He might haveconsidered himself a man of enlightenment and reason but he wasalso a Scotsman to his core. A man who ruled, who dominated, andwho fought for what he thought was right in a sometimes brutal andsavage manner if necessary. He could be everything they had accusedhim of.
It was past time the peoples of this centurydiscovered what a true Highlander was capable of.
Chapter 39
“You let her get away again?” Jamesonyelled, the sound echoing through the small room of the mobile NSAsurveillance unit that was serving as his temporary office whilehis team searched Bainbridge Island. He glowered at the two men whostood, eyes cast to the ground, before him. Well, they had betterfear for their lives, if not their jobs, at this point. Enough wasenough. “Who saved her this time? My ninety-year-old granny?” hesneered. “Did she hit you over the head with her purse?”
“He took us by surprise, sir,” the moresenior of the pair justified the failure. Simms might have been alean man in his forties but he was by all reports an excellentfighter.
“He tookboth of you bysurprise?” Jameson asked disbelievingly as he shuffled through thegrainy surveillance photos taken from cameras at Pike’s Market andthe Bainbridge terminal. None of them provided a clean shot ofClaire Manning or the assailant who had taken out three of his bestmen that day. “How is that possible?”
“He was fast, sir,” Simms explained. “I wasout before I even knew what happened. I barely even saw theguy.”
Jameson snorted rudely at that and leveled aglare at the second agent. Jackson was built like a defensivelineman and had actually been one. By all accounts, no one in hisclass at Quantico had ever been able to take him down. “What aboutyou, Jackson? Aren’t you supposed to be a black belt in somethingor the other?”
“As Simms said, sir, he was pretty damnfast,” Jackson defended lamely. “He fought like a pro. Said he wasa SEAL.”
“And you believed him?”
Jackson shrugged as if his defeat hadoffered the only answer.
To Jameson, the outcome was inexcusable. Twoarmed and trained agents defeated by a single individual equippedwith nothing more than a stick. It was an embarrassment to hisdepartment. “Do you think it was J42?”
The two agents shared a look, and Simmsresponded with a shrug. “I don’t see how it could have been. Hedidn’t look anything like the man on the surveillance tapes andspoke with a local accent. I was given to understand our markcouldn’t even speak English.”
Jameson only grunted at that. He wasn’tcertain what his target was capable of any longer. The anomaly hadevaded capture for eleven days. Eleven days! Obviously it wasresourceful, perhaps more able than Fielding had thought. ToJameson’s mind, there was no chance it had managed to elude themfor so long without help, but he couldn’t see it making intelligentconversation.
“Damn it, Jackson,” Jameson cursed anddismissed the pair of agents. “Go get your fucking nose looked at.You’re bleeding all over the place.”
So, if Claire Manning hadn’t been saved bytheir escapee, who had helped her? Did it even matter? Maybe sheknew the guy, maybe she didn’t. All that did matter was that theManning woman’s presence on the island had been confirmed, and ifshe was there, Jameson was certain that he was close to finding hisprisoner.
He didn’t know if she had been leaving orarriving at the island when Simms and Jackson had come across herin the parking lot, but he did know that she hadn’t gotten on theferry then, and her car was still under surveillance in the parkinglot. She had to be somewhere nearby.
“Marshall, what have you got on the search?”Jameson said to his junior agent, who had been lingering silentlyin the corner of the makeshift office.
“Still waiting on a warrant for adoor-to-door search, sir,” Marshall said, prompting a round of vilecursing from Jameson.
“You’re not going to get one, you know?”Nichols said from his position behind the desk with his feet up. “Itold you, you have no grounds.”
“Marshall, extend the BOLO to ClaireManning’s person,” Jameson said. “Get her picture out to everypolice station in the city. Tell them to use deadly force, ifnecessary.”
Even Marshall’s brows rose at that, and hisnervous gaze shifted to Nichols, who shook his head at the junioragent. “Hold on that, Marshall. Please close the door and giveSpecial Agent Jameson and I a moment.”
Marshall fled the room and Nichols looked upat Jameson. “I cannot condone this, Jameson. Colonel Williamsalready feels that you’re chasing a red herring here. What are yougoing to do with this woman if you find her? Torture her forinformation she doesn’t have? Kill her and call it collateraldamage?”
“What agency do you think we work for,Nichols? The Sunshine and Fucking Roses Agency?” Jameson sneered.“We need to get this thing closed out by whatever means ittakes.”
“There is no agency in this country that hasthe right or power to harm American citizens,” Nichols pointed out.“It was one thing to threaten violence to your anomaly but I cannotlet pass a threat to Mrs. Manning’s person without cause.”
“What do I need to do to convince you that Iam right here, Nichols?” Jameson wanted to know. “A another tragedylike so many others this country has seen lately?”
“No one wants that, but how about showing mesome actual proof?”
“She’s somewhere on this damned island. Letme find her and you’ll have it.”
A knock on the doorjamb cut off any responseNichols might have made.
“What is it?” Jameson barked.
“Sir, Mrs. Manning is here,” Marshallsputtered, and Jameson smiled grimly. His blood was pumping intriumph.
“Where did they find her?”
“She, uh … well, she came to us, sir.”
His brows shot up at that. Nichols’s did aswell. “Did she now? Well, don’t keep her waiting. Show her in.”
The agent skittered away as Jameson wrunghis hands in malicious glee, looking at
