basis,” Bolan said. “Euros usually.”
“They provided an account number and wanted the money to be wired,” Daniels said.
“That is unusual,” Bolan said. “I assume you looked into it?”
“We did,” Brognola said. “That’s when things began to get interesting. It’s not just a dummy account. It’s buried under five different holding corporations that we’ve found so far, not a one of them real.”
Bolan considered this information for a moment. “These aren’t pirates,” he said. “They don’t have the kind of money or structure to set up something like that.”
“Exactly,” Brognola said. “It’s got to be a terrorist organization of some kind, but we don’t know who yet.”
It could be any one of a number of large organizations that operated in that part of the world, and—he couldn’t rule it out completely—it was possible, however unlikely, that it was simply a very evolved pirate operation. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mr. President,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “but is it possible that they’ll release her if you do pay?”
“That’s a fair question,” Daniels replied. “The short answer is that I can’t care about that.”
“Sir?”
“I think Hal’s right. This move smacks of a highly organized terrorist organization. I’m heartsick that they have Heather, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do to ensure her safe return. But this isn’t just a question of negotiating with terrorists, Colonel. This would be funding them. And twenty-five million dollars in that part of the world might make them all but unstoppable. They could take over an entire region or buy arms and equipment that we don’t want those kinds of people to have.” His voice was hoarse and tired, and he shook his head. “I can’t pay them, Colonel. That’s where you come in.”
“You want me to go and get her,” Bolan said.
“That’s part of the mission,” Brognola said, “but, with all due respect to President Daniels, it’s just as important that we figure out who these people are and put a stop to them. If we don’t, the precedent could make every high-ranking politician’s family in the world a potential target for this kind of activity. Right now, the illusion of security and the threat of extreme violence is a powerful shield. If we fail, that illusion goes away in a hurry.”
“Understood,” Bolan said. “I’ll need all the intelligence you’ve gathered so far, and then I’ll get started on finding a solid lead.”
“When will you leave for the region?” Daniels asked.
“When I know where I’m going, sir,” Bolan replied. “It doesn’t do us any good to thrash about blindly over there. It’s a highly corrupt area and we’d be spotted before we could do your daughter or the country any real good.”
“I don’t like it,” he admitted, “but I don’t have to.” He turned his attention to the woman sitting next to him. “Colonel Stone, I’d like you to meet Michelle Peterson. She’s part of my Secret Service detail these days, but she worked with both CIA and NSA before that. I’d like her to join in your investigation and your mission as my personal representative.”
Bolan caught Brognola’s warning look, though it had been unnecessary. His old friend knew that he far preferred to work alone. “Mr. President,” he said, once more choosing his words with caution, “you know that I’ve been working in special operations for a long time, and I generally work alone. Many of the missions that you know we undertake are too dangerous for someone without the proper training and I’m not usually in a position, for lack of a better phrase, to play babysitter.”
“I respect what you’re saying, Colonel Stone, and your service,” Daniels said. “I can even set aside my feelings enough to know that the mission priority has to be taking out these terrorists. But don’t think for a minute that this isn’t personal. I want my daughter back, alive, and I want the bastards who did this as dead as old dad’s hatband. Agent Peterson will be going along with you, and she won’t need any babysitting. I can assure you of that.”
Until now, Bolan hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to the woman seated on the other side of the table. Secret Service agents specialized in blending into the background, and until the President had brought her up, he’d assumed that her only purpose in being there was for him. Now he turned his blue-eyed gaze on her. While she was dressed in what he’d come to think of as the unofficial uniform of those who served in protection details—a black, button-down dress with a white blouse beneath that showed a hint of cleavage. She had dark brown hair that brushed the tops of her shoulders in waves and a very attractive face, with full, almost pouty lips.
“Did you want me to stand up, Colonel? Maybe take a turn about the room so you can get a complete examination?” she asked, cocking one eyebrow slightly. “Maybe you’d just like to see my résumé?”
“Agent Peterson,” Brognola said, trying to ease the tension, “I’m sure you can understand why the colonel might wish to know more about your qualifications for a mission like this.”
She got up out of her chair and walked around the conference table. At a guess, Bolan put her at not much over five feet tall when she wasn’t wearing heels. She stopped when she was close enough to his chair that she could reach out and touch him. “Colonel Stone,” she said, “I’ve done field operations in Africa, the Middle East and South America for both the CIA and the NSA. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, and if the President had been willing to allow it, I would’ve taken this operation on my own. I’ve known Heather for most of her life, and I’d willingly take a bullet for her. Can you say the same?”
Bolan got to his feet and stared down at the woman in front of him. Without changing the direction of his gaze, he said, “That’s the problem here, Mr. President. This is personal for her and on these kinds of missions, it can’t ever be personal.”
“She goes, Colonel,” Daniels said. “I’m afraid I must insist.”
“It’s all right, Colonel,” Brognola said. “Maybe an extra set of hands and eyes will be a good thing.”
Bolan grudgingly nodded his acceptance, then held out a hand toward the woman, which she took, and they shook on it. Then he leaned down, casting his voice so that only she could hear him. “Agent Peterson, if you get killed, I won’t shed a tear. I won’t stop to bury your body and I won’t ship you home with a nice flag-draped coffin. And if you get in my way or make it impossible for me to do my job, I’ll take you out myself. Do we understand each other?”
Keeping her own voice at a whisper, she said, “We understand each other fine, Colonel. Just remember that it goes both ways.”
Her tone was completely serious and in that moment, Bolan decided that he might like this woman. She had guts and was willing to stand up to him—so far, at least. He wondered if she’d live through what they were about to do, then shrugged off such considerations. For now, the mission was all that mattered.
“I think we’re all set here, Hal,” he said. “Unless there’s anything else, Mr. President?”
“Not at the present, Colonel,” he said. He, too, got to his feet, and they shook hands. “Bring her back for me, Colonel, and kill those bastards who did this.”
