Ghosts of Havana (Judd Ryker #3)

“Sir, did you come all the way down here for a live after-action?”


“Tampa says you cut them off, you stole the Raider, and they think you delivered the money to someone else in Cuba. I told them, No fucking way. I told them there was no way that my best operative, the one I created from nothing, the one who owes me everything, would abandon my mission. There was no fucking way that my best operative kicked the living shit out of contact Bravo. There was no fucking way that my best operative flew our most advanced secret helicopter onto a Cuban naval ship. There was no fucking way that you would kill the most important mission of my career, the one that was going to finally bring down ECP and the communists in Havana once and for all. There was no fucking way, after so many years of failure, that you would destroy our best chance to finally win Cuba back. I came all the way down here because there was no fucking way that you would betray me by taking my money and giving it to the fucking Devil of Santiago!”

“I didn’t give them the Raider, sir.”

“How did you know they wouldn’t just take it? How did you know they wouldn’t fly it to Caracas? That it wouldn’t already be in Moscow?”

“Ricky’s lucky I didn’t kill him. You know he tried to kill me?”

“That’s not what Bravo reported.”

“You know that Bravo’s real name is Ricardo Cabrera? That he’s the brother of the Alejandro Cabrera. That he’s working for Ruben Sandoval? And he—”

“I don’t know who those people are, Jessica,” he cut her off. “Don’t try to lose me in irrelevant details. Remember who you’re talking to. I’m not falling for it. Stop deflecting blame.”

“You know Bravo blew up your boat?”

“What? My Cobalt?”

She made an explosion gesture with her hands. “Gone.”

“We’re talking about Triggerfish, Jessica!”

“I didn’t kill Triggerfish either, sir.”

“Tell me one fucking piece of the operation that you did not kill? The whole thing has gone to shit. And wherever I see something that went wrong, all I see is . . . you.”

“I didn’t betray you, sir.”

“You can lie to your goddamn husband, Jessica, but you can’t lie to me!”

“You’re right. I gave the money to Oswaldo Guerrero. That’s true.”

“I knew it!”

“Judd needed to get the hostages back.”

“I don’t fucking believe my ears!” he huffed. “You’re conspiring with your husband!” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “Are you working for that little prick, Landon Parker?”

“No, sir. I gave the money to Guerrero in order to accomplish the mission.”

“Your mission was to deliver the cash to people who would bring him down, not hand the money over to the enemy.”

“Sir, ECP is gone. People are on the streets. Cuba’s going to hold an election. Isn’t that what you wanted? Wasn’t that the objective of Triggerfish?”

“You don’t have the big picture, Jessica. You never did. That’s the whole point of running an operation like this. That’s the whole point of needing everyone to just do their job. That’s why I can’t have my people second-guessing me. You can’t run your own rogue operation! Not again, Jessica!”

“Cuba’s having an election. How is that not mission success, sir?”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve unleashed?”

“No, sir.”

“That’s the point! No one knows. And the fucking icing on the fucking cake is that you gave my money to Oswaldo Guerrero? Of all people, Jessica. How am I supposed to explain this to Congress?”

“Do you mean Brenda Adelman-Zamora?” Jessica couldn’t contain her smirk.

“What do you know about her?” he shot back.

“I know all about her, sir,” she said.

“Why are you smiling? How do you know about Brenda? Do you have someone planted at the Willard?”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you following me?”

“Sir . . .” Jessica paused and pursed her lips. “I don’t know . . . anything about that hotel. I . . . don’t think I want to know. I’m talking about illegal campaign finance. I’m talking about her congressional campaign . . . accepting donations from secret sources. Her campaign has been secretly receiving money seized from drug traffickers during Operation Everglades.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I witnessed it with my own eyes.”

The Deputy Director looked Jessica up and down. “What are you going to do with that information?”

“Me?” Jessica feigned horror. “I’m not going to do anything. But if Adelman-Zamora tries to make trouble for you—I mean, trouble for us—about how Triggerfish went down, you could remind her that we know about it”—Jessica shrugged—“and that the Justice Department doesn’t.”

“You’re just telling me this? As leverage? To blackmail a member of the United States Congress?”

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