you and your Cerberus bozos to be as far away from this as possible, and if that means I have to lock the door of a Punjabi jail cell myself, I will.”
Key stared at him until Logan was impelled to continue, through gritted teeth. “The bomb,” he said, “was in the juice container.”
Key couldn’t keep his brows from raising a bit. Logan could guess all he wanted about what happened at Mount Rushmore, but he already knew that people exploded. They both had been on that beachfront in Yemen. They had seen it with their own eyes. He continued to just stare, waiting to see if Logan’s denial was so big it might swallow him.
The newly minted colonel took the moment to look to his new aide, who handed him a sheet of paper from the file. “Would it surprise you to know that Aarif Zaman has taken responsibility for the attack?” he asked, his eyes on the paper.
Key had to think about that bombshell, but didn’t need to think about it long. “Yes,” he said, “and no.”
That comment returned the favor to Logan’s eyebrows, which also raised. “Why yes,” he started to ask, “and why—”
He got no further because retired General Charles Lancaster strode in.
“What took you?” Daniels blurted.
“Making sure the colonel didn’t bogart our evidence,” Lancaster answered without hesitation.
“Bogart?” Logan blustered. “Your evidence?”
“Yes, our evidence,” Lancaster almost spat, swinging a piece of paper at Logan’s face as if it were a scythe. “Officially signed and authorized. When will you get it through your thick skull that we’re on the same fucking team?”
Logan grabbed the paper and read it so intently Nichols thought it might burst into flame. “When you bozos stop getting in my way,” he growled.
“We will when you stop making us,” Lancaster immediately retorted. “I don’t have to tell you that your interference resulted in the suspect getting away, but I want you to know that makes us all wonder if you wanted it that way.”
“What?” Logan exploded, vaulting to his feet. “What the— How dare— I don’t have to sit here and take that!”
The colonel’s tantrum didn’t faze Lancaster in the least. “There’s the door,” he said evenly, cocking his head toward the one exit. “Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”
After a chaotic moment when the colonel and his aide hastily gathered up their papers, Logan all but pushed the brunette into the hall, but stopped in the opening. He turned with his mouth open but froze when he saw everyone in the room patiently waiting and staring directly at him.
“I…I…” he stammered. “I am in charge of this operation, and I will tolerate no interference.”
Before anyone could reply, Logan slammed the door after himself.
Key sighed again and scratched his forehead. “Our evidence secure?”
Lancaster nodded. “And on its way to HQ.”
Nichols looked from them to Daniels. “What’s ‘bogart’?” she asked.
The retired general laughed. “A word to give away my age.”
When he said nothing further, Nichols shifted her quizzical gaze to Daniels.
“Don’t look at me,” the bruiser said. “I know as much as you.”
Key interrupted the direction the conversation was going. “Aarif Zaman?” he asked their leader.
Lancaster grew serious and nodded. “Yes. He took full responsibility, and, in not so many words, dared us to ‘catch me if you can.’” The retired general looked each of his operatives in the eye. “What do you think?”
“It’s a trap,” Daniels sniffed dismissively. “Zaman is one of the top a-holes in Afghanistan. By copping this sort of attitude, he’s mooning everybody from one of the shit-hole’s network of caves and basically saying ‘come kill yourself trying to kiss my ass.’”
Key nodded approvingly at his friend before returning his attention to Lancaster. “More specifically, it’s a challenge to a duel.”
Lancaster found this of interest. He put one hand on his chin and cupped his elbow with the other. “Elaborate.”
Key gave his superior a look that said “you know damn well,” but explained anyway. “Aarif, or whoever, could have easily set the explosive off in the middle of the biggest Mount Rushmore crowd they could find. Maybe even during the daily lighting ceremony where thousands are gathered in an amphitheater made specifically for the event. But if thousands, hundreds, or even dozens of innocent American tourists had been killed, it would have been an invitation for invasion. This was a slap in the face—just showing off—a come-on that states ‘look what we can do. What are you going to do about it?’”
Lancaster folded his arms and nodded. “Looks like we got ourselves a quorum,” he said.
“Yeah,” Key said glumly, “but the question remains, as Colonel Custer runs into an Afghan buzz-saw, what are we going to do about it?”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Nichols finally exclaimed. “What is all this about? Our orders were approved. We made no secret of our assignment. Why did Colonel Logan even bring us in here?”
“Because,” Key answered her, “he wanted to know how much we knew.” He took a second to look directly into the one-way mirror. “And now he thinks he does.”
“Come on,” Lancaster commanded. “Time’s a-wasting. We got things to do.”
As the retired general led the way out of the interrogation room, Key told Nichols how the last name of legendary movie tough guy Humphrey Bogart came to be known as a term for holding on to something too long. Even afterward she still wasn’t sure, but Daniels promised to show her The Maltese Falcon before turning to Key with his own inquiry.
“Okay Joe, if you’re in a question-answering mood, finally, just tell me one thing. What does Cerberus mean anyway?”
Key laughed, truly enjoying the moment because he was certain it would be the last time he honestly laughed for quite a while. “I’ll tell you on the way back to HQ, Morty,” he promised.
Chapter 4
“Cerberus was, and I guess still is, the multi-headed dog who guards the gates of the underworld,” Key told Daniels as they stepped off just one of Lancaster’s private jets. In this case, a Gulfstream G650.
“To keep angels from invading?” Daniels asked with feigned innocence.
“No,” Key answered with feigned patience. “That’s Judeo-Christian beliefs. This was Greek mythology.”
“Oh. And this watchdog did what?”
“Kept the dead from getting out.”
“So it is hell,” Daniels stubbornly replied.
“Not
