Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(10)
Crew had followed the medical evacuation helicopter to Walter Reed Hospital. The military base was in complete lockdown as well as the hospital. Tate had heard the people talking as she was rushed from the helicopter pad and into a secure room. Crew had not been admitted. Instead, he was detained and was being held somewhere on the base.
“Get out of my way!”
Tate pulled the pillow from her face at the raised voice in the hall. She heard her guardian nurse calling for MPs as her door was thrown open. Standing in all of his five-foot-five-inch shining-head glory was Humphrey. He shoved the wire-rimmed glasses up his nose aggressively as he sent her a wink.
MPs ran up the hall, but Humphrey spun on them. “You better back off, or I’ll have you dishonorably discharged. Do you know who I am? I’m the fucking chief of staff, and you will listen to me. I am taking this woman, on the direct orders of President Stratton, to his bedside. Anyone who impedes me will face court martial under UCMJ Article 92.”
Tate sat up and watched in awe as the men stepped back. “Sorry, sir.”
“Nurse, help me get Miss Carlisle into a wheelchair,” Humphrey ordered, his voice strong and sure as he directed the MPs to help the nurse.
The nurse hurried inside with a wheelchair, and the men helped pick Tate up and set her in the chair. The nurse tried to push her, but Humphrey waved her off. “I will let you know when you’re needed. Thank you for your excellent care.”
The nursed thanked Humphrey, and they stared after them as Humphrey walked off, pushing Tate down the hall.
“Is Birch alive?” Tate finally asked.
“I don’t know. They haven’t let me in yet. But they will.”
By the steely determination in Humphrey’s voice, she felt sorry for the wall of guards waiting in the secure ward. Tate looked back with tears in her eyes as she grabbed for his hand. “Thank you.”
Humphrey patted her hand as he wound his way through the maze of corridors. “Get ready,” he said, dropping her hand as they came around a corner and faced the wall of guards.
* * *
Lizzy and Dalton followed the course on the map that the military had best figured the bodies had traveled. So far, there were nothing but small houses and a few small hotels along the coast as they moved from Romania into Bulgaria.
“It shouldn’t be too much farther. The medic was pretty sure about time of death and how long they’d been in the water,” Lizzy said of George Stanworth and his now identified daughter, Helena.
Lizzy scanned the coast with her binoculars from her spot on the boat. “Let’s go around that small bend.”
Dalton revved the engine and steered around a small jetty. He slowed when he saw the coastline around the bend. A massive house sat maybe fifty yards from the shore. “I don’t see anyone,” Lizzy said, scanning the area.
“Let’s try it. It’s the first real possibility we’ve seen.” Dalton steered the boat toward the shore. He stopped ten feet from shore and tossed the anchor into the shallow water. He hopped out of the boat, the water came up to his chest. Lizzy handed him two guns and then jumped in after him.
They walked through the water and onto the beach. Dalton held out his hand and Lizzy stopped. He pointed to the ground next to a table. Blood coated the sand. He’d seen it enough to know that dark stain anywhere. “I’ll take the back. You go around front,” he ordered.
They sprinted off in different directions. Lizzy hugged the side of the house as she made her way around front. She heard glass breaking in the back and used the butt of her M16 to break out the glass door.
“Clear!” she heard Dalton call as she made her way through the rooms.
“Clear!” she called back as they met in the large living room looking over the sea. “They’re gone now.”
Alex buzzed her, and she looked at her phone. “Alex says Sally, the fake name Sandra is using, just boarded a plane in Bucharest.”
“Dammit,” Dalton cursed. “We were so close.”
“Let’s collect as much evidence as we can,” Lizzy told him as she found the kitchen and pulled out some plastic bags.
“We’ll collect the blood in the sand when we leave. Let’s get some items that likely would have been touched by the people here.”
* * *
Three hours later Lizzy and Dalton leaned against a crate as the plane took off. They were alone in the cargo hold with a bunch of large pallets of supplies, and it was perfect. They had a duffle bag of potential evidence, a secretary of state to talk to, and the rest of an organization to bring down. But for a couple hours, they’d have peace.
“Lizzy,” Dalton said against her head resting on his chest over the engine noise.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Lizzy turned her head and looked up at Dalton’s face. They hadn’t slept in days, his face was scruffy, and he was still the sexiest man she’d ever seen.
“I love you, too.”
* * *
Humphrey would never fool Tate again. He was a fierce warrior. He’d not only bullied his way into the secure ward, but also into Birch’s room. He was alive—barely. Tate gasped as Humphrey pushed her to Birch’s bed. He’d undergone three hours of surgery to repair a collapsed lung and internal bleeding.