Silent Assassin(50)

Morgan rubbed his ring finger where the ring was absent.

“I take it off. Whenever I’m not home. I’d rather no one know that I’m married.” He was already regretting opening up even to O’Neal.

“If you only put it on when you’re at home, how do you tell which one is the disguise?” A silence stretched out between them, and then she laughed again. “Just listen to me. What am I saying? Sorry. That went too far.” There was a ding, and she looked at the laptop that had been set up on the table. “We’ve got results!” she said.

“I’ll get Bloch,” said Morgan. But he didn’t have to. She had been in her office, overlooking the war room, and she had seen and was already on her way down. O’Neal, meanwhile, was scrutinizing the data on the screen.

“What do we have, O’Neal?”

“It looks here . . . We’ve definitely got something. It looks like he’s betting on—cable news outlets tanking?”

“Shepard, I want a list of major cable news buildings, and I want it an hour ago. Karen, I want all the affected companies, and anything else you might have. Let’s get this son of a bitch this time.”

“Boss,” cut in Shepard. “We don’t have to do any of that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know where they’re going to hit,” said Shepard. “There’s a conference under way. Executives from all the major channels are getting together on this mega yacht, Martha’s Vineyard to New York City.”

“Oh God,” said Bloch.

“And there’s one more thing,” said Shepard. “Tomorrow they get off the boat. It’s going to happen tonight.”





CHAPTER 26


Long Island coast, January 29





Young Alison Bernadette Wiley was bored out of her mind.

The Mirage was supposed to be some kind of wonderland. It was much smaller than a cruise ship—she’d been on one of those too, and hated it—but it was still plenty big. There was a heated pool and constant all-you-can-eat buffets and annoying monitors who were supposed to make sure that you were having fun every single minute of the day. She’d stay in the cabin if her mother let her, but even the big ones were cramped. Meanwhile, it was absolutely freezing outside, and reading, the only thing that could distract her meaningfully, made her seasick.

Her dad was there for work, of course. He was always off somewhere working and her mother with him, doing shopping, judging from the suitcases of new clothes and shoes and trinkets she always brought home. At least they usually had the sense to leave Alison at home, where she had friends and all her stuff and her cat, Pierre.

But this time, they’d informed her that she would be coming along.

Her mother had taken away her e-book reader for the night. It had been the only thing that was making the whole trip tolerable for Alison, who was now forced to endure the evening without it. “Go and be social,” her mother had said. “There are plenty of other kids your age here. Why don’t you make some friends and tell me all about it later?”

So here she was, at the most pitiful excuse for a dance she had ever seen. The boys were all off to one side, looking at the girls, who were standing precisely opposite them. On the dance floor were only a handful of monitors, trying to drum up enough enthusiasm and unsuccessfully pulling reluctant kids to dance with them. Lame eighties music was playing, and there was a disco ball and colored lights reflecting on the walls, which despite the trappings looked nothing like they belonged to any kind of nightclub. It just looked like a rec room with the lights out.

Alison decided to walk out and be alone. At least there she wouldn’t be bored and pressured into pretending like she was enjoying herself. And after a while, she’d go back to the cabin anyway. One of the monitors called out to her as she walked away, “Hey, leaving already?” She murmured a “Be right back” and slunk out anyway, bringing her heavy coat and mittens with her.

There were a couple of older kids making out on one of the deck chairs, so she walked farther away, where she wouldn’t see them and they wouldn’t see her. Here, the fun Nazis wouldn’t see her and force her to participate in any activities—she realized how much she had come to dread the word in just two short days. It was cold out there. Freezing, actually. She wondered who had had the stupid idea of having a stupid cruise in the middle of winter. She looked out at the land, just a couple of lights far away and barely visible. She wondered if the people there could see her too, and if they were as bored as she was. Then she lay back on one of the deck chairs and looked up at the sky. The ship wasn’t moving because of the party, so mostly it was nice and still, except for the gentle bobbing from the waves. She looked for familiar constellations.