The Puppeteer

CHAPTER 20



“I'VE GOT A CLEAR SHOT.” One of Cotter's sharp shooters checked in.

Dani glanced up at the monitor in the back of the van where she, Drew, Ty, and a couple of men from Cotter's team B sat. The monitor showed the boats rounding the bay and heading toward Getz's boathouse. The wheelhouses weren't visible on their small monitor, but Dani knew Marmie and company would be enhancing the images, looking for weapons or other little surprises, even before the boats reached the dock.

“Here comes number two,” the voice came through again and, on schedule, the second boat made an appearance.

“I've got one,” came another sharpshooter.

“Covering two,” answered the voice of the first.

“Four in one, six in two,” came Roddy's voice as the boats moved closer to the boathouse.

“Sonny's in two,” Fawkes added. “Taylor and his cousin are in one.”

“Marmie?” Drew prompted.

“Shoulder holsters on four of the six in two. Sonny's not armed. Can't ID the weapon but at least we know it's not a rocket launcher,” she added with almost a hint of sarcasm.

“Good to know,” Ty interjected.

“And one?” Drew asked.

“All four in one are armed.”

“Guys?” Drew prompted Fawkes and team.

“They're going in. Getz's men are there. Everyone on the boats is handing over their weapons,” he supplied. “At least the visible ones,” he added.

“Okay, Fawkes, ready?” Drew prepped.

“Ready.”

“Cotter?”

“Ready.”

“Good. Fawkes, on your call,” Drew directed.

Thirty seconds passed and then they heard the call. “Now.”

Dani's heart pounded in her chest and it wasn't because of Getz. Over the years, she and Drew and their team had taken care of people far worse than Getz in situations far uglier than this idyllic bay in Southern Maine. Not that she didn't have a healthy sense of self-preservation, but this raid was chump change compared to some of the things she'd done in the past. No, the pounding in her chest and anxious energy that was making her jumpy was because of Frey and what he might tell her—what she might learn after all these years.

From her position in the woods along the driveway, she heard Cotter's men calling out, warning those inside the house that law enforcement was present and that they were being busted. She heard the distant roar of an engine and a single shot followed by the sound of the engine dying and more shots being fired.

In a crouched run, Dani made her way up the drive, sending a little prayer upward that no one on her team had been hurt by the shots. With Ty at her side, she made her way to the front door, rammed open by Cotter's team moments ago.

As efficient as she knew Cotter to be, even she was surprised to find a number of Getz's men already gathered in the kitchen, unarmed and flanked by two of Cotter's men and their weapons. Getz's men didn't look like they were interested in putting up too much of a fight and most just stood there, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Manny? Are we clear?” she asked one of Cotter's men, standing with his gun trained on the group.

“Clear upstairs, and we got this,” he replied with a jerk of his head toward the men. She nodded and her heart gave a little skip. She would have stayed if he'd needed her help, no question about it, but the fact that he didn't and she was free to continue through the house put her that much closer to Frey.

Dani moved past the kitchen and recognized the sounds of the helicopter they'd arranged for and the additional police support now arriving up the drive. She ignored both and focused on her next move.

She and Ty came to the top of a set of stairs that led to the lower part of the house and then down to the boathouse. She called out her name and agency, giving anyone at the bottom a heads up, and then began to make her way down. She glanced out a window and saw Roddy, gun in one hand, unhappy Getz in the other, headed back toward the boathouse. It looked like the man had tried to cut and run. He'd been shot in the knee and, from the look on Roddy's face, Dani could tell Getz was complaining about it. A smile flickered across her face knowing that at least one of the three men they sought was accounted for. She gave another quick scan and saw Cotter skirting his way along the rocks, running with an agility that shouldn't have surprised her, but did. She wondered for a brief second who he was after, but then turned her attention back to her own descent.

They made their way through the rest of the downstairs, searching for people, knowing a more thorough search for drugs and weapons would follow once the house was secure. Finding no one unaccounted for as they finished the search, Dani's heart rate began to beat a steady pulse. The house was secure, she could hear the police upstairs taking care of the men in the kitchen. There was no one downstairs. Which meant everyone else, including Frey must be in the boathouse.

Stopping to take a moment to collect herself, she glanced at Ty. Ty who had been at her side almost since she set foot in Maine. He was studying her face and, no doubt, reading her thoughts.

“Ready, Ella?” he asked. She took a deep breath and then nodded.

Ty took the lead and called out their entrance before stepping through the open door of the boathouse, gun ready. Dani followed, close on his heels, and took in the scene. Getz was propped up against a wall looking like the condemned man he was. He wasn't shouting or protesting but was huddled, hands tied, leg bandaged, scowling.

Ten members of the Eagle's Wing group were kneeling in a line, hands tied and silent. There was something eerie about their silence. Getz's silence was that of man who knows it's best not to speak, whereas the militia members' silence had a martyred air to it, like they would almost be happy to die at the hands of the government, if only to prove a point.

Dani scanned the faces and her eyes came to rest on Sonny Carlyle. She didn't know what she expected, maybe to see a fraction of the grief that had ripped her apart when her parents had been murdered? But whatever it was, it wasn't there. He knelt with his colleagues, staring straight ahead, not acknowledging anything going on around him.

Despite his look of misplaced pride, Dani felt a wave of sympathy for him. She didn't know what his relationship with Frey was, but she'd bet, hands down, that Sonny had been played.

She walked in front of the group, measuring her pace, until she stood in front of Sonny. She stared at him and wondered what he was thinking, what he was feeling. She wondered if he'd been close to his father, if he missed him. As if feeling her scrutiny, his eyes flickered up and caught hers. And held.

And in that moment, Dani knew Sonny had loved his father and that whatever he was doing with the Eagle's Wing wasn't who he really was. That Frey had made him into something he wasn't.

“Nicholas Frey killed my parents.” She saw the recognition in his eyes. “Gunshot, to the head. I was thirteen. I watched him do it,” she added.

Sonny opened his mouth, then closed it. She didn't know what he saw in her eyes but his gaze wavered, then turned down.

“Do you know where he is?” she asked, her heart in her throat. It hadn't escaped her notice that, of all the men under armed guard, Frey was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't have gotten far, not on the peninsula, but she wanted to set her own eyes on him.

Sonny's eyes darted to the open boathouse doors and then back again. Dani didn't bother following his gaze, whatever was out there, whoever was out there, would have run right into Fawkes, and she knew Fawkes would never let Frey get past him.

She repeated the question and Sonny's face turned down as a few of the militia members began to shift, warning him against speaking.

“Has anyone seen Cotter? He hasn't checked in,” Drew entered the boathouse and demanded.

Dani kept her eyes trained on Sonny who, unlike everyone else who had turned at Drew's entrance, kept his gaze on Dani. Watching her, he let his eyes travel back in the direction they had the first time she'd asked him Frey's location. Realization dawned and she glanced out the door. There was nothing there, no one around, and no sign anyone had been there.

And then she remembered the flash of Cotter's movement she'd seen earlier. He'd been running along the rocks, toward the mouth of the bay, chasing something. He would have been out of sight of both of the men posted at the entry to the bay. Cotter would have been shielded from view by the rocks on one side and tucked too close to the cliff side on the other.

“Drew, you need to see this.” Roddy caught the director's attention as the room filled with the backup support. “Ty, come take a look. I haven't seen some of this kind of stuff in years,” he added. As the men moved toward the room behind the heavy door Dani had photographed earlier, she used the whirlwind of activity to make her own escape. She didn't think, she didn't stop, she just left.

Bolting out the door, following the path she'd seen Cotter on, she ran. Keeping her gun drawn, she forced her sense of panic down. Cotter caught up with him, she told herself over and over again. They couldn't lose him.

Dani ran, keeping as low as possible as she scrambled over the rocks. She ran until she couldn't run any farther. A big boulder blocked the tip of the bay and, unless she had gear to climb it or gear to swim around it, she wasn't going further. The tide was on its way in but not that fast. Cotter and Frey had come this way less than ten minutes earlier. The water would have been lower but still not low enough for them to make it around. Which meant Cotter and Frey were somewhere behind her.

It didn't make sense. She'd kept her eyes open the whole time and hadn't seen a thing—no cave, no boulders big enough to hide behind. But then again, she remembered the ledge Ty had shown her, maybe she wasn't looking at her surroundings in the right way.

She began to backtrack, sticking as close to the cliff wall as possible. If there was a cave or hole in the cliffs, it wouldn't be big. It would be small enough to go unnoticed at a casual glance. About a third of the way back, she found something that looked promising. A small crack, not a large entrance, but big enough for a man to slip through. Dani paused and looked. It could go nowhere, which meant she might waste precious time. Or, it could lead her to Frey and Cotter, which would be good, but she was beginning to get a bad feeling about the situation.

She didn't have a light and didn't like entering a cave, if it was in fact a cave, without one. She'd be a sitting duck while her eyes adjusted to light. If someone were sitting inside, she'd never even know it. On top of that, it wasn't feeling right that Cotter hadn't checked in yet. She had her earpiece in and she would have heard. But she hadn't. And she didn't like it.

Giving the side of the cliff another quick sweep with her eyes, she decided to bite the bullet, hopefully not literally, and step inside. She turned sideways and scooted in a few feet. It was a tight fit for her, it would have been difficult, though not impossible, for Cotter.

She wiggled a few more feet and the fit got tighter. She was about to begin to wiggle out, thinking that if it got any tighter, Cotter wouldn't have been able to make it through, when the formation opened out into a large cave. Stunned at the sudden space around her, Dani dropped to a crouch and waited for her eyes to adjust. And when they did, her heart jumped into her throat.

“Cotter!” she called in a whisper and then swore. He was lying a few feet in front of her, sprawled on his back. She crawled over to him, feeling sick to her stomach that he might die because of her and her obsession with Frey. She reached out a hand and felt for a pulse. She took a deep breath when she felt one, steady under her fingertips. It was slow and weak but steady. She ran her hands over his head and felt nothing unusual. She did the same to his body and had the same experience. Nothing seemed to be wrong, he hadn't been shot and wasn't bleeding, at least that she could see, but he was hovering between life and death.

She reached into his pocket and activated his GPS and then turned her microphone on.

“Drew?” she whispered, knowing the sensitive equipment would pick up her voice. Silence. And then he was there.

“Shit, Dani. Where the hell are you?” he demanded.

“Cotter's down and needs an assist. He went after Frey and now I'm going to follow his lead.”

“Where are you?” he demanded again.

“Can you pick up Cotter's GPS signal?” she asked already moving away from the man and deeper into the cave. A couple of beats went by where Dani imagined Drew barking orders at Spanky.

“Got it,” he came back on.

“It's a cave and there is a tiny crack of an opening. The crack is about eight feet in length but once you get past that it opens up. Don't send anyone big, it's a small opening. I'm not sure how you'll get Cotter out—”

“We'll take care of that. You stay with him,” Drew ordered.

“Too late, Drew,” she said. She heard him swear and issue the order one more time before she took off her earpiece and shoved it into her pocket.

She made her way down the cave, using the wall as a guide. It was dark but if she used her peripheral vision, she could make out shapes and the contours of the walls. About fifteen feet in, she began to notice that the cave walls were intermittently damp. She stopped at a wet spot and ran her fingers through the dampness. Touching the tips of her fingers together, she tested the texture. Blood.

She felt a fleeting sense of relief knowing Frey was injured enough to be bleeding on the walls—he must have bumped into them as he made his way down the cave. It would slow him down, make him easier to track. It would also, in all likelihood, make him panic. Humans were fight or flight animals. When Frey's flight response was diminished, his fight response would kick into high gear.

Tucking this bit of information away, Dani continued making her way down the cave. She paused every few feet to listen for recognizable sounds and feel for any air current. The fourth time she paused, she felt a whisper of a breeze on her face. A few more feet down the cave she felt it again, and heard a hint of water making a soft lapping sound. She slowed her pace even more but kept it steady, no longer stopping. If the cave ended at the ocean, it was possible there was another escape and Frey had slipped through their fingers.

Then she spotted the water and, though the tunnel was still dark, she could see faint light making its way through the darkness. She paused one last time, right where the cave seemed to open out to a small, inland beach. From her vantage point, she could see about ten feet of sand and ocean water but nothing else. She needed to step away from the security of the cave wall to see the whole area. She stood, silent, debating what to do when she caught the scent of fuel. It wasn't strong, a boat engine hadn't been started in the last few minutes, but the smell was distinct and clear. Dani knew that when she stepped away from the wall, she'd find the boat responsible for the scent still sitting in the water of the cave. What else she'd find she didn't know, but judging from the tracks she was beginning to make out as her eyes soaked in the filtered light, she guessed Frey would be on the other side as well.

She stood silent for a long time, waiting for him to start the boat. If she could get him on his way out, she could disable the boat and have him at an advantage. Which, given that she was alone, held great appeal.

But, after what seemed like ages, she still heard nothing but the lapping of the water, so she decided to take her chances. Stepping away from the wall, she swung her gun up and stepped into the opening.

And, for the first time in twenty years, she laid her eyes on the man who'd killed her parents.

He was leaning against the boat. Trying to stop the blood flowing from his upper arm by gripping it tight with his other hand. She couldn't make out the subtleties of his features but the lightness of his eyes burned in the darkness.

“I was wondering how long I would have to wait for you to come away from the wall,” he said, as if he'd been wondering what time of day it was.

“Move away from the boat,” Dani commanded, gun still raised.

Frey eyed her with complete and utter disregard. “I've been waiting for you so that we can get this over with. I wouldn't want to turn my back on you now would I?” he said, acknowledging that he'd be forced to expose an Achilles' heel if he started the boat, turned his back to her, and headed out of the cave toward the sea. He raised the palm of his injured arm and started to lean back.

“You killed my parents.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and he paused in response. She wanted the answers and she wanted them now. Not in an hour or two when he sat in some interrogation room but now, in this dark cave, when it was just the two of them.

Then his expression changed to one of pleased surprise. “Ah, yes. I remember you. The little girl at the top of the stairs. I always regretted not being able to kill you. One of the few loose ends I've ever left lying about,” he commented with an airy gesture of his hand that was incongruent with the blood seeping from his bicep. “And then you were so protected, well, I didn't feel you were worth the risk.”

His matter-of-fact admission startled Dani. She'd been expecting some sort of protest, some sort of denial. Even though she knew he had killed her parents, hearing the words from him came as a shock.

“Why?”

He sighed, as if feeling put upon, then gazed at the boat before propping himself up on the edge. Dani thought about telling him not to move but stopped herself. She could disable the boat if need be. Frey didn't appear to be armed and he wasn't going anywhere fast with his arm bleeding the way it was.

“It was all quite simple. I wanted your father to write a report saying that he found gold. He didn't want to write the report, we got into a scuffle, he lost.” The words were delivered so carelessly.

“Why did you want the report? Why did it matter to you so much?” she demanded.

“Money, my dear. It's always just money,” he repeated, almost sad. “Well, maybe there is a little fun in it,” he added.

“Your money or his?”

“Ah, yes. I thought he was another poor sap like me, slogging away in the hellhole that is central Africa. I had no idea your father had the kind of resources he did. That he wouldn't be swayed by the money we could make if he falsified the report. I don't make mistakes often, my dear, but I'll grant you, that was one of them.”

“Why would you want him to falsify a report?” she demanded, struggling to understand.

Frey shifted and his tone took on an almost professorial intonation. “I told you, my dear, money. It's almost always about money and when it's not about money, it's about power and politics. Coming from the world you come from, the world of the elite and privileged, the world of the old boys' network and junior leagues, you should know this.”

She did know this, all too well. But, unwilling to grant him anything, she pressed on, “How would a report bring you money or power?”

“Simple really, my dear,” he said. “If a country receives confirmation of something like a significant presence of gold in their borders, they can obtain a loan to begin the extraction process, sinking the money into the new industry. The problem is, the country usually doesn't have the human capital to do the work, so most of the loan goes straight into the hands of the subcontractors. Subcontractors who pay fees to whoever brokers the deals. I arrange for the report to say what needs to be said in order for the loan to go through and then broker the agreements. Like I said, a rather simple plan.”

He paused and glanced down at his arm. Now that Dani could see better in the darkness of the cave, she could see the blood seeping through his fingers.

“Do you have any idea how much money flows through to the subcontractors in the extraction industry?” he asked, looking back up. “Hundreds of millions of dollars every year. Sometimes billions. A nice tidy profit,” he added with a small satisfied smile.

“And what happens when the resource isn't there? When the country spends all that money and has nothing to show for it?”

He smiled again. “Ah, well that's the fringe benefit. I had no idea starting out that there would be so many political benefits. You see, I only wanted the money. I only wanted to crawl out from the pit I grew up in. But the political benefits, well, that's just icing on the cake.”

She still didn't understand. She didn't understand what kind of benefits could possibly come about from running a country into bankruptcy. She'd worked in a lot of countries riddled with this kind of debt, debt they couldn't possibly pay back, and it was never pretty. Famine, violence, civil unrest, and often wars prevailed. And the politics of those countries were so unstable—any benefits were purely circumstantial. And then it hit her and her stomach dropped.

“Our political benefit, not theirs,” she said.

He all but beamed at her. “The US does like its puppet governments. It's rather like watching a waltz when we step in as the benevolent benefactor when a country can't repay a loan we helped them obtain. And then, in the name of preventing a crisis, we back certain leaders and, if only for a moment, we bring stability to a country. Our leaders look good, their leaders look good, and all is right in the world. At least until the country becomes tired of being a puppet,” he conceded with a hint of anticipation.

“And then there's war.”

“And then there's opportunity,” he corrected. “Don't ever forget the importance of financial benefits.”

“Yours?”

“Of course. All those defense contracts come with finder's fees too,” he answered. “But don't forget who is usually granted those contracts. US companies, and hence politicians receive their fair share as well.” He paused and let out a sigh that Dani would almost call dreamy. “There is so much potential, so many opportunities, and so little time,” he concluded.

“And when you can't find someone to write the report you want them to write, you kill them? Just like that? People who don't want to lie, people who don't want to be responsible for the downfall of a country? People who don't want to be responsible for all the poverty and war? All of this is for your commissions?” Dani asked, struggling to understand how this man could be so flip about the role he played in so much death—not just her parents' but the victims in the countries he'd helped devastate through bad loans.

Frey's eyes slid toward the open sea before returning to hers. “There was too much at stake for too many people, Ms. Williamson. So when your father wouldn't write the report, when he threatened to report me to US officials, I had to tie up the loose end.”

Dani was speechless. To call him a sick man was a gross understatement—even she was stunned by his callousness. And having met some of the people she'd met in her line of business, this was saying quite a lot. It was all about money. All about power. There was no remorse, no second guesses, no regrets for the thousands of lives lost because of his actions. He was a sociopath in every sense of the word. And he'd killed her parents.

But Frey didn't seem at all bothered by her judgment. He just cast her a pitying look. And sighed. “Be that as it may, I think my time has come to go. I believe your friends are about to arrive,” he made a vague gesture toward the cave.

Against all her training, Dani turned her head toward the opening of the cave where she could hear distant voices. And just as she made out Ty's voice calling out to her, a shock wave rocked her body and turned her world to black.