Epilogue
He was rushing back to America because of what had happened just hours earlier in D.C., and he wondered if Campbell would ever wonder why he wasn’t there at the appointed time.
Court put the Northern Irishman out of his mind when his phone rang. It was Signal, and it was Lacy.
“Hey,” he said. “How’s Matt?”
“He’s stable. It’s an absolute miracle. There were five men in that car. Matt and a thirty-three-year-old Agency bodyguard survived. Both have broken bones and burns. Matt’s going to need a few surgeries, but he will live.”
“And Trey Watkins?”
Lacy took a moment. Said, “Dead. Presumably he and Hanley were both the intended targets. You know, I thought Watkins might have been somehow involved in all this.”
“You weren’t the only one.”
“Well, he’s dead, so I have a feeling he was just another victim, and not the culprit.”
Court said, “Matt’s not safe. Even in the hospital.”
Lacy replied, “I know. I spoke with Conductor. She’s got the Five Guys watching over him there.”
“Good.”
Lacy said, “I’ve been reassigned overseas, but I don’t leave for a few days. I’d like to talk to you when you get home.”
“I’ll meet you in the morning,” Court said.
“Let’s do it in Charlottesville. That safe house is secure. Anthem and Catherine and Irene are there, Teddy and Night Train are there, we have plenty of security, too.”
“Okay,” Court replied, happy that he was going to get to see Zoya. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Six?” Lacy said.
“Yeah?”
“Um…Something else happened this morning.”
Court cocked his head. “What?”
“In Arlington?” She said it as if she was prompting him to remember.
It took a second, and then Court closed his eyes and sighed. “Shit. My father’s funeral. Of course.” He was embarrassed. Said, “I’m just a little overwhelmed by events, I guess.”
“Totally understand. But they did full military honors. It was very moving.”
“Very moving?” Court was confused by this. “Did you go?”
“Well…no. I wanted to stay away in case there were people there looking for you. I didn’t want to be associated…I mean…I don’t mean that in a bad way.”
Court chuckled a little. “I get it. I’m something of a hot potato these days.”
“Right. Anyway…Skip Echols flew up from Florida to be there. I asked him to take video of the ceremony.”
“That’s great. I appreciate your kindness. And his.”
“Yeah,” Angela said, “that’s not why I did it. I did it for intelligence purposes. Wanted to see if Gauntlet or Homeland or someone else was there. It could give us an indication of the threat against you.”
“Good thinking.”
“Skip sent the video. I watched it myself just now.”
“Was the cemetery crawling with jackbooted thugs?” Court joked.
“Not at all. There was no one. Well, not no one, just one attendee, but of course it wasn’t announced, and you said your dad didn’t stay close with anyone in Washington.”
“Well, I’m glad Skip was there, so somebody could be witness to—”
Angela interrupted. “No…I mean…one more person other than Skip.”
“Really?” Court was surprised, and suspicious. “Who was it?”
“Oh, I have no idea. He stayed back, out of the way. Kind of watched from a distance, but he didn’t film or anything. I don’t think he was there conducting surveillance. He looked like he gave a damn about the funeral, I mean.”
“That’s nice,” Court said, but he had no idea what this meant.
Lacy said, “I took an image from the recording, sending it to you now. Just thought you might recognize someone who knew your dad.”
Court highly doubted it. The image came through and Court clicked on it.
He enlarged it, then enlarged it again.
And again.
He looked at the man standing on a hill not far from the gravesite, but not close, either.
A black raincoat, sunglasses, brown hair lifted by the breeze.
“Six?” Angela said. “Did you get it?”
Court didn’t answer; his eyes were so fixed on the screen in front of him, he didn’t even blink for twenty seconds.
“Hello?”
Still he did not respond.
“Okay,” Angela said. “I think we lost signal. I’ll give you a call later, Six, hope you have a good flight.”
“Hey,” Court finally said. He blinked. “Yeah…uh…I got the picture…I don’t know him. Must have just been there and wanted to see a funeral.” He added, “Military honors and all. I look forward to watching the whole thing when I get home.
“Thanks, Angela. I appreciate it.”
“Sure,” she said. “Anyway…Skip was happy to do it. I’ve got to run. I’m here at the hospital, heading in to check on Matt again.”
“See you tomorrow,” Court said.
“See you tomorrow,” Angela echoed.
Court disconnected the call, but he continued looking at the picture on his phone a little while longer.
Then he put his phone back in his pocket and closed his eyes.
Nothing in this world made sense anymore. The government leaks. The rash of assassinations. The death of his father. Hanley’s injury.
Watkins’s murder.
A fight to the death that didn’t happen in a cemetery where one of Court’s victims lay in a fresh grave.
A victim Court hadn’t even wanted to kill.
It was all just too much.
And now this.
This.
On the long list of all the things in this world that Court Gentry could not quite wrap his head around right now, at the very top was the fact that he’d just seen a picture of his dead brother, very much alive, attending the funeral of their father.
He looked out the window, at the sky around him, at the ocean below him.
And he wondered what the hell was going on.