Termination Orders(51)

The door opened, and there stood Jenny, tired and disheveled, holding a stun gun in a defensive crouch. To Morgan, she had never looked more beautiful. Her kind brown eyes, exhausted from the past few days, widened in surprise. Dropping the weapon to the ground, she fell into his arms and a deep, passionate kiss.

Neika, puppylike, had already bounded outside and was jumping for joy, not knowing what to do with herself. Alex emerged from inside, holding a knife in her trembling hands, her athletic frame showing the weariness of nervous, sleepless nights. She approached slowly, repeating, “Dad? Dad?” with tears in her eyes. Morgan put an arm around her, as well. Relief poured over him. For a moment, as he held his wife and daughter tightly in his arms, everything was right in the world.

“Are we safe?” asked Jenny, finally. “Dan, tell me we’re safe.”

“I can’t know for sure,” he admitted, as they walked inside. “But this is the safest place I know of right now.”

The cabin was old but sturdy, and structurally, it had held up well over the years of disuse—his father, who suffered from a bad back, had not been hunting in over a decade. It was furnished with two rustic beds in the bedroom, a few wooden chairs, and a table. Jenny had clearly been working to make the place livable. No amount of her interior design skills could transform it into a dream home, but it was as comfortable as Morgan had ever seen it. The floor and other surfaces were mostly free of the dust that had no doubt accumulated, and there were some groceries on the table, mainly snack foods that required no preparation or refrigeration. He was surprised to find the room cozy with warmth, and he noticed that a fire crackled in the iron woodstove in a corner.

“There was an old pile of chopped wood out in the back,” said Jenny. “A couple of logs were still good enough to burn. I figured we’d have what comfort we could manage.”

Dan smiled. Jenny Morgan certainly wasn’t a helpless woman in need of being saved.

“Speaking of which,” added Jenny, “Alex, could you go get a couple more logs for us?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Jenny waited until Alex walked out the door, and then she turned to Morgan. “Dan, I know there are things you don’t want Alex to hear, but I sure as hell deserve to know. Why are we here?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, sighing. “Did you tell her? You know, about me?” he asked.

“No,” she answered calmly. “It’s important for you to explain it to her yourself. But you have to, Dan. She needs some explanation for what’s going on. There were armed men in her home. You need to tell her. Today.”

“Yeah . . . ,” he said. “You’re right. I do.” He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“And I need some answers, too. Like, who were the men who came to our house?” asked Jenny.

He frowned. “What did they look like? What did they say?”

“They were two men in suits claiming to be with the FBI. They wanted Alex and me to go with them. Dan, who are they?”

“Boys from the Agency, if we’re lucky,” he said.

“If we’re lucky?”

Alex kicked the door open, carrying two large, partially rotted logs in her arms. “These were the best I could find,” she said.

“You seem to be getting the hang of this roughing it stuff,” Morgan observed.

“Well, it has been three days,” said Alex, with a hint of coolness to her tone.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all this.”

“It’s all right,” she said, sighing stoically, tossing the logs into the smoldering embers. Then she turned and looked him straight in the eye. “Dad, what’s going on here?”

Morgan took a deep breath. “Some people, some very bad people, are out to get me right now. I had your mother bring you here because they might have come after you to get to me. And from what she tells me, it sounds like they did.”

“Who, Dad? Who’s coming after us? Why would anyone want to do that?”

“They’re bad people with a lot of power. It’s all very complicated, sweetheart.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m a child.”

“Alex—”

“I’m not a kid anymore,” she said, her voice cracking. “You need to be honest with me. For once.”

“Sweetie, it’s complicated.”

“Don’t give me that!” she exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes. “Don’t even! I mean, you miss the game and leave for days to go God knows where. Then Mom tells me we have to leave home. Then two men with guns show up at our front door. And now we’re in a cabin in the woods I didn’t even know existed, and I still don’t know why.” She stopped, out of breath, looking at Morgan, her eyes pleading for an answer.