Текст книги "The Forgotten"
Автор книги: David Baldacci
Жанры:
Политические детективы
,сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 28 страниц)
CHAPTER
96
PANAMA CITY, Florida, was known to generations of college students who invaded the town for spring break.
Port Panama City was a port with easy access to the Gulf along a nearly nine-mile-long channel.
Ocean liners disgorged tourists.
Cargo ships brought products to America through here and took American-made products to the rest of the world.
It was a busy place, even at night.
Puller stood on the dock holding a box and eyeing the Cyrillic writing on the side of the steel-hulled cargo ship as cranes lifted metal containers onto the ship, stacking them on top of each other.
As he continued to watch, a large wooden box was carried on board. There were two men carrying one end and one man carrying the other.
The one man was Mecho. He was cleaned up from his fighting, his wounds bandaged and mostly hidden under his clothes.
For those who looked closely, and no one did, the wooden crate had two holes for air drilled in it.
Inside the box was Peter J. Lampert. He was bound, gagged, and drugged.
He would wake up in about six hours.
By then the cargo ship would be well out in the Gulf. It would make its way around the southernmost tip of Florida and then begin the long trek across the Atlantic. The cargo ship would plow along at an average speed of ten knots. Seventy-six hundred nautical miles and a month later it would arrive in Bulgaria.
Once Lampert touched Bulgarian soil he would never leave it.
The crate secured on board, Mecho came back down the gangplank followed by a heavyset man who looked strong as a bull.
His thick-veined neck was the size of an average man’s thigh. His sleeves were rolled up and revealed forearms knotted with cords of muscles. He wore a skipper’s cap, and a cigar stuck out from his mouth at an angle.
They reached Puller and stopped.
Mecho introduced the man as his friend and the cargo ship’s captain.
The captain looked at Puller appraisingly. “Mecho tells me you have something for me.”
Puller held out the box. “Ten bottles.”
The captain lifted the top of the box and looked inside it.
His smile was wide and immediate.
Puller handed him the box and the captain thanked him and carried it back on board ship.
Mecho looked at Puller.
“So what is this thirty-year Macallan?”
“It’s a scotch. Actually a very good scotch.”
“And it is thirty years old?”
“So they say.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Let’s just say that it was another opportunity for Peter Lampert to make restitution.”
Mecho’s jaw slackened in surprise. “You took it from his house? Weren’t the police around?”
“They weren’t watching me too closely.”
Mecho put out his hand and Puller shook it.
“I thank you for all that you have done.”
“I hope you find your sister.”
Mecho nodded slowly. “I will never stop looking.”
“But you can stop looking for Lampert.”
Mecho smiled grimly. “I will always know right where he is.”
Mecho turned and walked up the gangplank. Halfway up he turned and waved back at Puller.
Puller returned the wave.
A few moments later Mecho was gone.
An hour after that, the ship was gone too and Lampert had begun his long journey to his final resting place.
“Good riddance,” Puller muttered as he walked back to his car.
CHAPTER
97
WHEN JULIE CARSON OPENED her eyes the first thing she saw was the bright light overhead. The second thing she saw was Puller sitting next to her hospital bed.
He gripped her hand.
“I made it,” she said groggily.
“Never any doubt on my part. Docs say you’ll be good as new in no time.”
“Never got shot while wearing the uniform. Only while hanging out with you.”
“Seems to be an occupational hazard with me.”
She sat up a bit. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I’m going on vacation with you anymore.”
“Completely understandable.”
“What happened to Landry?”
“In custody. Talking her head off. Bullock was thinking of retiring, but after this big bust he might run for governor.”
“So he’s getting all the credit?”
“Not something I care about, General.”
She squeezed his hand. “Julie. Off the clock now.”
“Julie,” he said.
“Diaz?”
“Colombians have already picked up her remains. She died a hero. They’ll see to that.”
“And Mecho.”
“He made it through with a few dings, like me.”
She focused on his bandaged arm and leg. “Oh, God, John, I just remembered you were wounded too.”
“Just a few more scars to add to the package.”
“Please tell me they caught Lampert. The last thing I remember is seeing him running away with his hands cuffed.”
Puller hesitated. “If I tell you the truth will you swear that you’ll never tell another soul? Even if you’re called on to testify?”
She sat up a little more and looked at him squarely. “What?”
“Maybe I should just let it alone. I don’t want you to have to perjure yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
Puller looked at the med lines going into a single unit inserted near her collarbone.
“Morph drip for the pain.”
“I think so, yes.”
“Morph messes with your memory.”
“It can. But we were talking about Lampert.”
“We were?”
“John!”
“He decided to take a little trip abroad.”
“He got away? On his yacht?”
“To Bulgaria. Understand he’ll be making it his permanent home.”
“How is that possible? Didn’t the police arrest him?”
“The police were a little tardy. We took Lampert’s tender to an isolated spot down the beach. From there, it was easy to put him in a truck and take him away. As far as the police know he got clean away. At least that’s what I told them when they asked.”
Carson stared at him for a long moment and then said, “I think I feel the morph erasing my short-term memory.”
“I can understand that.”
“When can I get out of here?”
“A few days.”
“Will you come to visit me?”
“I’ve been living here,” he said, pointing to a chair next to the bed with a pillow and blanket over it.
She smiled tenderly at this. “Diego and Mateo?”
“Back with their abuela. And they’re living in my aunt’s house. The other prisoners are being processed and will be returned to wherever they came from. That includes Lampert’s household staff.”
“Rojas?”
Puller shook his head. “No. Not today. But his time will come.”
Carson looked overly agitated by this and Puller put a calming hand on her arm. A few minutes later the morphine kicked in and her eyes closed.
Puller went outside and called his brother at USDB. He filled Robert Puller in on nearly all that had happened, only leaving out the fate of Lampert in Bulgaria.
“Damn, John,” said his brother. “You need another month of R and R to get over the last few days of R and R.”
“Actually, I think I’m ready to get back in the rank and file.”
“What are you going to tell the Old Man?”
“Not sure yet.”
“You going to tell him that his sister is dead?”
Puller thought about that and finally said, “No. I’m not.”
“I agree with you.”
Puller had given Sadie the dog to Diego and Mateo. The two boys and the little dog had instantly bonded. Puller figured they would be good friends for many years. And he hoped that living in a nicer neighborhood well away from the gangs would be a big plus in their lives. And Bullock had promised to keep an eye on them.
There was a lot of paperwork and face time with Bullock, the state police, and the Feds. They said this would intensify the hunt for Stiven Rojas, but that the man had proven very elusive in the past.
“Keep trying,” Puller told them before walking out of the last debrief.
Carson was released from the hospital two days later, bandaged, bruised, and tired.
But alive. Very much alive.
That morning she and Puller flew back home on a private jet sent down by the Army.
“Gulf Five,” said Puller. “Never been on wings like this.”
“Stick with a rising general and she’ll take you places,” Carson told him as the steward poured out two glasses of champagne for them.
Puller drove to his apartment after promising to have dinner with Carson that night at her place. A friend of his had taken care of AWOL while he’d been gone, but he let the cat out for a good long time and then played with him for an even longer time.
The next day he drove to Pennsylvania carrying a small package. He parked near a field of green grass, climbed out, and walked to the middle of the field. He opened the top of the urn and took his time sprinkling his aunt’s ashes across the Pennsylvania countryside, just as she had wanted. He closed the empty urn, looked to the sky, and said, “Goodbye, Aunt Betsy. For what it’s worth, a long time ago, you meant the world to a little boy. And the man he became will never forget you.”
Puller knew what he had to do next. In fact, it was past time to do it.
He drove back to Virginia, showered, put on his dress blues, and headed to the VA hospital.
He walked down the sterile corridors, his frame tall and ramrod straight.
He heard his father before he got close to the room.
The same nurse as before confronted him in the hall.
“He’s been a bear the last few days. Been screaming for you nonstop. Thank God you’re here.”
“Yeah,” said Puller. “It actually feels good to be here.”
The nurse looked at him oddly as he passed by her and opened the door to his father’s room.
Puller Sr. was in his usual blue scrub pants and white T-shirt. He looked both agitated and confused.
When his father caught sight of him, Puller stood as erect as possible and executed a single crisp salute to his father.
“Reporting in, General.”
His father’s agitated state seemed to melt away and was replaced with a scowl. Puller would take a scowl over confusion from his father any day.
“XO, where the hell you been?”
“In the field executing your orders, sir,” Puller said in a loud voice, enunciating his syllables just as the Army had taught him.
“And the outcome?”
“Mission accomplished, General. Fair winds and following seas.”
“Damn good work, XO. Damn good. At ease.”
“Yes, sir,” said John Puller and he lowered his hand and sat down next to his father.
For the moment no longer a solider.
Now only a son.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TO MICHELLE, for keeping it real and fun.
To David Young, Jamie Raab, Mitch Hoffman, Emi Battaglia, Tom Maciag, Maja Thomas, Martha Otis, Karen Torres, Anthony Goff, Lindsey Rose, Bob Castillo, Michele McGonigle, and all at Grand Central Publishing, who support me every day.
To Aaron and Arleen Priest, Lucy Childs Baker, Lisa Erbach Vance, Nicole James, Frances Jalet-Miller, and John Richmond, for being the best team a writer could ever have.
To Anthony Forbes Watson, Jeremy Trevathan, Maria Rejt, Trisha Jackson, Katie James, Aimee Roche, Lee Dibble, Sophie Portas, Stuart Dwyer, Stacey Hamilton, James Long, Anna Bond, Michelle Kirk, and Natasha Harding at Pan Macmillan, for leading me to new heights in the UK.
To Arabella Stein, Sandy Violette, and Caspian Dennis for being great partners across the pond.
To Ron McLarty and Orlagh Cassidy, for continuing to knock the audio performances out of the park.
To Steven Maat at Bruna, for taking me to the top in Holland.
To Bob Schule, for your friendship, enthusiasm, and editorial skills.
To Chuck Betack, for keeping me straight on all things military.
To the families of Jane Ryon, Griffin, and Mason, I hope that you enjoyed the characters.
To my buddy Carl Brown, I hope you enjoyed seeing your name in print.
To Kristen, Natasha, and Erin, because I’d be hopelessly lost without you.
And to Roland Ottewell for another great copyediting job.
ALSO BY DAVID BALDACCI
Absolute Power
Total Control
The Winner
The Simple Truth
Saving Faith
Wish You Well
Last Man Standing
The Christmas Train
Split Second
Hour Game
The Camel Club
The Collectors
Simple Genius
Stone Cold
The Whole Truth
Divine Justice
First Family
True Blue
Deliver Us from Evil
Hell’s Corner
The Sixth Man
One Summer
Zero Day
The Innocent
Thank you for buying this e-book, published by Hachette Digital.
To receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest e-books and apps, sign up for our newsletter.
Sign Up
Or visit us at hachettebookgroup.com/newsletters
Contents
WELCOME
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
CHAPTER 91
CHAPTER 92
CHAPTER 93
CHAPTER 94
CHAPTER 95
CHAPTER 96
CHAPTER 97
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ALSO BY DAVID BALDACCI
NEWSLETTERS
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Columbus Rose, Ltd.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Grand Central Publishing
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
www.hachettebookgroup.com
www.twitter.com/grandcentralpub
First e-book edition: November 2012
Grand Central Publishing is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The Grand Central Publishing name and logo is a trademark of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
The Hachette Speakers Bureau provides a wide range of authors for speaking events. To find out more, go to www.hachettespeakersbureau.com or call (866) 376-6591.
ISBN 978-0-446-57304-7
