Honorable Lies (A Titus Black Thriller Book 6) Read online

  Halfway through his first glass of wine, Parker heard a knock at his door. He wiped his mouth with his napkin before palming his gun. Creeping toward the door, he jumped back when he heard a suppressed gunshot fire in the hallway. A bullet splintered the door near the handle. Unsure of what he was about to face, Parker didn’t wait around for the second shot. He raced to the balcony and slid open the door.

  Two more shots blasted against the door.

  Parker reached over to the next balcony and jumped for it. His fingers wrapped around the protective wrought-iron fence. Glancing at the ground, he gauged the height of his impending fall before letting go. At no more than twelve feet, he hit the ground and rolled. A bullet ricocheted off the concrete patio surrounding the pool, creating panic amidst the vacationers squeezing out the day’s final hour of sunshine. More bullets rained down near Parker as women screamed while scrambling for shelter.

  Parker waited a moment before hurdling over a ground-level balcony fence and darting into a room with an open glass door. He sprinted down the hallway and flagged a taxi waiting by the lobby. After giving the taxi driver instructions, Parker glanced over his shoulder, refusing to exhale until he was certain the man pursuing him wouldn’t be able to find him.

  Parker didn’t say a word for the next five minutes.

  “Let me off here,” Parker said, pointing to a street corner a half a block away.

  He ducked into a bar and then called another cab, this time asking the man to transport him to the other side of the island. Upon reaching another hotel, Parker checked in underneath an alias and retired to his room.

  Now I know I’m right.

  Parker didn’t get the best look at the person shooting at him, but he noticed a Marine tattoo on the man’s right forearm. Whoever was hunting Parker was an American.

  He kicked off his shoes and fell onto the bed. After contemplating his next move, he picked up his cell phone. Calling the agency could be a mistake since he didn’t know who exactly was after him. But he had to let someone know what had happened to him, just in case. He dialed a number and waited for the person to answer.

  “Senator Blunt, this is Kenneth Parker. Do you have a few minutes to talk? I have something urgent to tell you.”

  Chapter 4

  Washington, D.C.

  BLACK AND SHIELDS WASTED no time in heading straight to Blunt’s office upon returning to the Phoenix Foundation. He was buried in a copy of The Washington Post when they entered and took a seat across from him at his desk. Despite their arrival, he didn’t peek over the top of his paper until Black cleared his throat.

  Blunt peered over the top of the paper and eyed his two agents. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it in.”

  “It’s eight-thirty,” Shields said. “We spent all day on a C-130 just to get here this morning, and you want to shame us for being a little late?”

  Blunt smiled. “Maybe I should send you home to get some more sleep.”

  Shields growled and then shot him a nasty look.

  Blunt chuckled before turning his attention to Black. “I hope you didn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning too?”

  Black leaned back in his seat, enjoying the drama. “I’m good. However, I’m very curious about what was so urgent that you needed us in so early today.”

  Blunt folded up the paper and then pulled out a cigar from his desk drawer. “Our freshly-minted president is a little antsy right now and worried about getting off on the wrong foot with the American people. If it wasn’t for him, I would’ve let you sleep in today until about noon. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.”

  Shields kept silent as she nursed her cup of coffee.

  “You all right over there?” Blunt asked.

  Shields shook her head and sighed. “If President Young is responsible for this, I hope he doesn’t walk through that door because I’d like to stick a combination of titanium and carbon fiber right up his—”

  Black put his hand on Shields’ prosthetic leg and spoke over her. “She had a rough flight yesterday, sir. Now, what is it the president wants us to do?”

  “I’m sure by now you’re caught up on the terrorist attack on the cruise ship in the Bahamas,” Blunt said, his eyes brows arching upward.

  Black and Shields nodded.

  “Good,” Blunt said. “Now that you know the basics, I need to fill you in on what else is happening that the public doesn’t know about yet.”

  Shields perked up. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that Secretary Hatcher’s death might have been a cleverly disguised cover for the real intended target,” Blunt said.

  “Who else died?” Black asked.

  “Darryl Oliver,” Blunt said. “Does that name ring a bell?”

  Shields and Black both shook their heads slowly.

  Blunt shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d run into him before during any of your interactions at the CIA, but he was an operative for the agency. And he was supposed to be meeting a Mossad agent on that voyage.”

  “Did they make contact?” Black asked.

  “We don’t know, not that it matters now,” Blunt said.

  “Why’s that?” Alex asked.

  Blunt sighed. “They’re both dead, according to a contact I have at the CIA.”

  “So, we don’t know what kind of information was going to be transferred between the two agents. We just know something was going down.”

  “What does that mean to us?” Shields asked. “Do you have an idea how you want us to proceed?”

  Blunt leaned back and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure there’s any clear path forward in this investigation. From where I sit, I just see a lot of threads that we need to start pulling on.”

  Black nodded. “We need to proceed cautiously because we don’t know who we might be dealing with. For all we know, it could very well be an inside job, possibly even some remnants of the Fullgood Initiative.”

  “That’s definitely a possibility, according to my contact,” Blunt said as he pointed at Black.

  “We can’t rule anyone out until we’ve investigated this further,” Shields said. “Now, can you tell us more about your CIA contact?”

  “His name is Agent Kenneth Parker,” Blunt said. “I wrote his recommendation for the agency, and I’ve known him for a long time.”

  “And?” Black said, prodding Blunt.

  “He’s an interesting character, prone to gravitate toward conspiracy theories. Before he applied, he told me that the reason he wanted to join the agency was because of a documentary he watched on the Kennedy assassination.”

  “How exactly did that influence him?” Shields asked.

  “He was convinced that there was a shooter on the grassy knoll—and it was a government insider.”

  “So, he’s a conspiracy theorist,” Black said.

  Blunt nodded. “That’s a pretty accurate depiction of him. If I have a hunch about something and share it with him, no matter how outlandish it might be, he never judges me for it. And he dives in all the way.”

  “Is there anything else you can share with us about Parker’s suppositions?” Shields asked.

  “Other than the fact that a former Marine tried to kill him last night, the details are sketchy,” Blunt said. “He was down in the Bahamas looking at the attack site to help the agency possibly determine how terrorists targeted Secretary Hatcher. But he was apparently poking around where he shouldn’t have been.”

  “Or he was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Black offered.

  “That’s a possibility as well. But if I had to put my money on one of two scenarios, I’d bet on the fact that he got caught snooping in a place that he shouldn’t have been.”

  “By choice?”

  “Probably just a coincidence, but he raised a few red flags with whoever was watching the blast site like a hawk.”

  “Do you want us to go talk to him?” Black asked.

  “We can get a full
deposition from him upon his return to Washington,” Blunt said. “But in the meantime, I suggest you get to the heart of the matter and go after the Alsheri agent pounding his chest about the attack.”

  “Someone is bragging about what they did?” Shields asked.

  Blunt picked up a cigar and studied it for a moment before responding. “I don’t know how much stock I’d put in the reports that Alsheri orchestrated this whole attack, but it’s possible. And Bahiri Zahid, one of the top leaders within the organization, seemed eager to take credit.”

  “You know where he is?” Black asked.

  “Not yet,” Blunt said. “But the CIA has an asset who has connections with Zahid. I’m working to get the asset to arrange a meeting with the two of you under the presence that you’re both arms dealers.”

  “And then what?” Shields asked. “You think he’s going to freely admit what he did?”

  “I don’t care about him as much as I do who fed him the inside information that two well-connected agents from both the CIA and Mossad were meeting on that ship. Whoever was behind exposing two high-level agents is a much bigger fish than Zahid. But, if you want to take care of him after you learn about the nature of what I suspect is a leak within the agency, be my guest. I just want to find out if there’s any truth to what Parker is saying. I wish I could take him at his word, but at this point, time is of the essence. I don’t want to waste any time on rabbit trails.”

  “We can handle that,” Shields said.

  “Of course you can,” Blunt said. “Then once you find Zahid, you’ll get him to tell us everything.”

  Blunt’s phone rattled across his desk. He leaned over and glanced at the screen.

  “Need to take that?” Shields asked.

  Blunt nodded. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

  He waited to continue his conversation until Black and Shields were outside.

  “So, what do you think?” Shields asked as she closed Blunt’s door.

  “I think Blunt’s right,” Black said. “Alsheri isn’t organized enough to get that kind of information.”

  “Maybe someone on the inside gave it to them,” she suggested.

  “We can never rule that out, but it just doesn’t seem likely to me. They’re a ragtag bunch, not some well-oiled machine.”

  Shields shrugged. “You and I both know it only takes one well-placed asset to trigger a successful operation.”

  “But do you think Alsheri has even one person high up within the State Department?”

  She shook her head. “That seems like a stretch, I know.”

  “Which is why I think maybe Parker isn’t so crazy after all. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the Fullgood Initiative has some people involved in this.”

  Blunt opened the door to his office and gestured for his two agents to return with him.

  “What is it?” Shields asked as she took a seat.

  Blunt eased into his chair and carefully eyed his two agents. “That was Bobby Besserman from the CIA. The asset contacted Besserman about Zahid’s whereabouts.”

  “So, we know where Zahid is right now?” Shields asked.

  Blunt nodded. “He’s in Turkey, but he may not be for much longer.”

  “Wheels up in an hour?” Black asked.

  Blunt nodded. “Maybe ninety minutes. Are you two ready to go?”

  They both nodded.

  “Go get him,” Blunt said.

  As the two agents rose out of their seats, Jana Shadid knocked on the doorjamb of the office as she entered.

  “Jana,” Shields said as a grin spread across her face.

  “Not so fast,” Jana said. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Black smiled. “Is it Christmas?”

  “For you two, it might as well be,” Jana said.

  “What’ve you got?” Black asked.

  Jana held out her hand, revealing two devices. One was a pair of spectacles, while the other was a small black square.

  “I don’t typically wear glasses,” Shields said.

  “They’re for your disguises,” Jana said.

  “And this thing?” Black asked as he reached into her palm and fished out the square object.

  “It’s a tracking device,” Jana said. “It’s hardly noticeable, but it can keep tabs on someone in a hundred-mile radius.”

  “Impressive,” Shields said.

  Jana nodded. “I thought so. I only finished testing these a few minutes ago and thought you might be able to test them out for me. However, I didn’t know it would be on the field.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Shields said.

  “Me too,” Black said. “Let’s ride.”

  Blunt forced a smile as he watched the trio head toward the door. “Good luck.”

  “We won’t need it,” Black said. “Zahid is going to tell us everything we need to know.”

  Blunt chomped down on his cigar. “I hope you’re right.”

  Chapter 5

  Grand Bahamas Island

  KENNETH PARKER PEELED the curtains back a few inches and then peered outside. The hotel room he’d paid for in cash on the ground floor provided him with a clear view of the common area. The bathroom window gave him an escape route if someone managed to track him down. He considered that unlikely due to all the precautions he’d taken, but he believed he could never be too careful.

  Parker sat down on the bed and fiddled with his phone battery. He considered removing it an extreme measure, but going off-grid gave him his best chance to stay alive and escape the island. He couldn’t shake the image of the man’s tattoo.

  Someone from my own country.

  Parker shook his head at the thought. His patriotism was a source of pride, part of the reason he wanted to join the agency. But his dogged pursuit of the truth had put him in the crosshairs of an assassin, a fellow countryman. And Parker wasn’t sure who he could trust other than J.D. Blunt.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Parker slipped outside and hustled to a nearby convenience store that sold everything from snacks to clothes to electronics. He purchased a burner phone and then returned to his room. After checking to make sure no one outside was watching him, he called Blunt.

  “Were your ears burning?” Blunt asked upon answering.

  Parker scowled. “I told you not to tell anyone.”

  “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to trust me. My team is on your side and if you really need my help, I’ll be using them to do it. And I wouldn’t dare do the disservice of sending them into the situation blind. The more they know, the better they can help you.”

  “Fine,” Parker said. “Just nobody else, okay? I’m getting a little nervous.”

  “Why? Did something else happen?”

  “No, but knowing that the man who tried to kill me was a former Marine signals that whoever is trying to kill me is from my own country.”

  Blunt grunted. “Not necessarily. The guy could’ve been a hired hand. You don’t know who he’s working for.”

  “Sometimes you just know.”

  “Like the time you told me you were convinced that President Michaels was a Russian plant.”

  “Yeah, and now he’s dead,” Parker said. “My theory hasn’t been disproven.”

  “Geez, Parker. You don’t make this easy, do you?”

  “I want to get out of here alive. So, I’m filing my report this morning and saying that it was Alsheri acting alone. Just know that it’s all a lie. And when I get back to Washington, we can sort out the rest of this mess and figure out who actually initiated the attack and what’s really going on.”

  “Then tell me what you need from me and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Can you get me a flight out of here?”

  Blunt sighed. “I just sent my plane out of the country, and I’m not sure how long it will be before I can get it down there.”

  “Will you charter one for me?”

  Blunt thought for a few moments in silence. “Arranging a charter
flight will take much longer. But I do know a fishing guide in Freeport who could take you on a private fishing expedition. Two and a half hours later, you could be in Miami. How’s that sound?”

  “Send me the address and I’ll be there in an hour.”

  “Captain Slater is who you’ll want to talk to. He mostly manages the place these days, but I should be able to convince him to take on a favor like this.”

  “Thank you,” Parker said before hanging up the phone.

  A couple of minutes later, Parker received a text message from Blunt with the information regarding Captain Slater’s Sea Adventures in Freeport. Parker grabbed his bag and then headed straight to the docks in Freeport.

  * * *

  PARKER RAPPED on the doorjamb and poked his head inside the cramped office. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  After a few seconds, the floorboard groaned beneath heavy steps before a door behind the lone desk opened. A heavyset man strode inside and stroked his scraggly beard.

  “Can I help you?” he asked in a gruff voice.

  “I’m looking for Captain Slater,” Parker said. “Do you know where I can find him?”

  “You’re lookin’ at him, son. What can I do ya for?”

  “I think we have a mutual friend who may have contacted you within the last hour, a Mr. J.D. Blunt.”

  Slater nodded subtly. “I know the man well.”

  “Did you speak to him?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “I told him I’d look out for ya and get you where you needed to go.”

  Parker sighed in relief. “That’s great news, sir. What do I need to do to make this happen?”

  “Since Mr. Blunt already pre-paid your bill, I expect all ya need to do is put your belongings on the Manta Ray, the big fishing boat right out front. I’ll be out shortly once I finish up some last-minute paperwork.”

  “Copy that,” Parker said.

  He spun around on his heels and followed the captain’s orders. Parker wanted to sit on the deck and soak in the warm sunshine, offsetting the cool breeze swaying the palm trees. And a drink in his hand would make the moment almost perfect. But such luxuries would have to wait. He still wasn’t certain that he’d eluded any surveillance, even though he hadn’t seen a hint of the Marine since seeking safe harbor on the other side of the island.