The Homeland Read online

  THE HOMELAND

  A Blake Jordan Thriller

  Ken Fite

  The Blake Jordan Series

  The Senator: Blake Jordan Book 1

  Credible Threat: Blake Jordan Book 2

  In Plain Sight: Blake Jordan Book 3

  Rules of Engagement: Blake Jordan Book 4

  The Homeland: Blake Jordan Book 5

  September 2018

  Copyright © 2018 Ken Fite

  All rights reserved worldwide.

  CONTENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  FIFTY-FOUR

  FIFTY-FIVE

  FIFTY-SIX

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  FIFTY-NINE

  SIXTY

  ONE

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  **

  KATE MOFFETT DUG through a kitchen drawer. She found a small notepad and a pen. Wrote down instructions for the eighteen-year-old high schooler standing next to her. “Have him brush his teeth at seven thirty, then read to him. He has plenty of books in his room. Bedtime’s at eight thirty. Then—”

  “I know,” the young woman said. “I’ve got the routine down. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

  Kate took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She knelt. Motioned for her son to come to her. He gave her a halfhearted embrace, the kind a nine-year-old gives his mother when all he wants to do is play. He turned and she grabbed his arm. Pulled him back. “Be a good boy for Mommy. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  He stared at her. “Where are you going?” he asked curiously, prompting a smile from his mother.

  “I’m going on a date,” she said as she made him look at her. “I need you to listen to Miss April for me.”

  He nodded vaguely. Tried to pull away again, but she held on until he responded, “I will, Mommy.”

  Kate smiled. She let go of his arm as he went back to playing with his toys. The doorbell rang. He looked back at her as she stood. She paused at the door and smoothed out her dress, then let the man inside.

  “Daddy!” the boy yelled as he dropped his toys and ran to the door. His father laughed and stretched out his arms. “You’re Mommy’s date tonight?” he asked as he turned to his mom, then back to his father.

  John Moffett smiled broadly. He pulled his son in and held him tight. Kissed his forehead and patted his back. “You’re getting so big,” he finally said. John glanced at the babysitter. She smiled and looked away, aware of the awkwardness of the situation. He scanned the home, taking in the changes Kate had made.

  Kate moved to the door, suggesting they needed to get going, and motioned for her husband to follow her.

  “Don’t worry about a thing,” called April. “We’ll be fine.”

  Kate pressed her lips together, forcing a smile as she stepped out the door with her husband.

  IT WAS A twenty-minute drive from Kate’s home to Grant Park in downtown Chicago. They didn’t speak much during the drive. Just some small talk about work and surface-level conversation about the weather.

  John found a spot to park the car. She walked with him in the cool of the night as they headed toward the place where he’d proposed to her fifteen years earlier. Before they had a kid and a mortgage and life got complicated. Before their relationship unraveled and she finally asked him to leave.

  They walked faster and approached the sounds up ahead of them. They rounded a corner. Her eyes grew wide with excitement as the bright lights of the carnival rides came into full view. The sound of machines whirring and children laughing grew louder. She smiled as John put a hand on her back and guided her toward a row of games. They walked some more and found the Skee-Ball machine.

  “What do you think?” he asked as he nodded at the game they played on their first date. “You versus me?”

  She rolled her eyes playfully as they walked closer to the game. She hesitated, then grabbed his hand. Their fingers laced together. She squeezed his hand to let him know she was having fun. Then she rested her head on his shoulder as they moved. “You don’t want me to embarrass you, do you?” she finally asked.

  “You can’t embarrass me if you don’t win,” he replied and she punched him on the shoulder.

  They played for five minutes and John beat her, hands down. The man overseeing the game gave him a small brown teddy bear for getting such a high score. John smiled and gave it to her. Said their son would like it. She smiled back as they walked away from the game and took in the bright lights all around them.

  “I like the changes you made,” he finally got out after several minutes of walking. “You haven’t let me back inside the house in at least a year. Brought back a lot of good memories.” Silence. “I miss our family.”

  Kate said nothing. Just thought about how him living with her brought back a lot of bad memories, too.

  They slowed their pace and stepped to the side of the path, away from the crowd. He reached for her other hand. They were alone. He stared into her eyes. “I miss you,” he said. “And I miss what we had.”

  She tried to pull away, but John tightened his grip. They stood in silence for a long time before she spoke. “John, these last few months have been great. But it’s not reality. It’s not the real world. If you come back home, I know what will happen. Things will go back to how they used to be. And neither of us wants that.”

  “I won’t let it,” he said. “I’m not saying everything will be perfect, because you’re right, that’s not reality.” He glanced to his right as the sound of a band checking their equipment echoed throughout the park. People started moving in the direction of the stage hidden somewhere up ahead of them.

  She thought about it. After a moment, he turned back and smiled at her. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “Our son’s growing up. He needs a man in his life. I can’t do that part-time on the weekends, Kate.”

  She looked away, thinking it over and weighing the pros and cons in her mind.

  They stood there for several seconds before she finally looked back at him. The band started to play. She smiled. “Come on,” she said as she held onto his hands and pulled him along, giving him his answer.
>
  They walked across the grass and got back on the main path, headed toward the sound of the music. They walked arm in arm until they saw the band and people gathering around the stage. They found a spot close to the front and stood together for several minutes, enjoying the band and the atmosphere.

  Kate heard several loud cracks. She looked at John with surprise in her eyes. “Fireworks,” she yelled over the music, and they looked up over the trees at the night sky, waiting for them to explode.

  They never did.

  The sound continued as Kate looked back at John, furrowed her brow, and shrugged.

  He dropped his gaze. Saw confusion on some of the faces in the crowd. A ring of people formed up ahead. They moved away from where they stood. John craned his neck to see what they were looking at. The popping sounds started again. Now they were coming from somewhere behind them. Louder this time. The band noticed it as the music came off beat and the drumming stopped. It left an eerie quiet.

  Then there was screaming. The crowd dispersed. Not a run at first. Just a clumsy, confused scattering.

  There were more cracks. They echoed in the distance. But some were close by. She looked to John for an explanation. He grabbed her hand and gripped it tight as he pulled her away. They were surrounded by a mass of bodies. She saw him scan the area. “Those aren’t fireworks!” he yelled to her.

  She stared at him blankly. A wave of terror fell over her.

  He pulled her along and looked back at her. “Somebody’s shooting.”

  TWO

  THE FRENZIED MOB swept them toward the exit. Panic erupted. Chaos ruled. People staggered, fell, were trampled on. Kate held onto John’s hand and gripped it tighter, worried they’d be separated if she didn’t. She looked everywhere as he navigated her around people who were in shock and walking too slow.

  “Move to the right,” he yelled, directing her to a spot up ahead.

  More loud cracks from somewhere across the street caused Kate to flinch. She opened her eyes and saw someone in the crowd fall to the ground after being hit by a gunman they couldn’t see. She held her breath. Heard more gunfire as John pulled her away and they ducked behind a tall hedge.

  Where they hid, they were out of the direct line of sight from the building where the shots seemed to be coming from. They were also hidden from a spot in front of them, where she’d heard more shots fired.

  Kate fumbled for her phone. The small teddy bear John had given her fell out of her purse as she grabbed her cell and brought it to her face. Her hands trembled as she dialed for help. She glanced up and saw John peering over the hedge as another shot was fired. Closer this time, followed by distant screaming.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, but he ignored her. He was focused on something. “John!”

  He ducked and turned to her. Something in his eyes. Her heart was pounding.

  “There’s another one,” he said. The gunman fired again. They both recoiled and closed their eyes briefly. John moved back to the hedge and slowly raised his head over it. His eyes scanned everywhere and moved across the blur of bodies as they ran left to right, blocking his view. He kept looking as she reached someone and told the person on the other end of the line what was happening. She hung up a second later.

  “They already know,” she said and looked back to see him still peering into the dark, out over the brush.

  “Two shooters,” he said in a low voice, his eyes fixed on something. “One at the hotel and one over there.”

  She got to her knees and started to look, but John turned. He placed his hands on her and pushed her back down. “Listen to me very carefully,” he said. “I need you to stay down for me, okay?”

  Her chest heaved up and down as her eyes moved in the direction of the second shooter.

  He let go of her and went to look again. “I think I see the shooter, straight through those trees.”

  Only a few stragglers remained. They ran past, aimless and confused as they wandered away from the open area where the band had been playing. John maintained his gaze. Focused on something.

  “They’re going to see you,” she said.

  John made no reply. Just kept staring into the dark, through the trees. His eyes tracking something.

  Kate tugged his shirt. “John, what are you doing?” she asked again, more desperate this time.

  “Watching him,” he said, his voice lower now that they were finally alone. The screams that had added to the confusion earlier grew distant as the crowd exited the park.

  Kate heard a soft sobbing sound. She ignored it. “Don’t let the shooter see you,” she whispered as she tugged his shirt again. A siren warbled in the distance. “Help is on the way. They’ll be here soon.”

  She heard the sobbing sound again. John noticed it, too. He lowered his gaze and scanned the bodies on the ground. Kept checking back at the shadowy figure through the trees so he wouldn’t lose track of the shooter. Looked back down. Scanned the bodies, one by one. Then the sobbing grew louder.

  They both turned to look. Then they saw her. A little girl was on the ground next to a woman, ten yards in front of where they hid. Had to be the girl’s mother. The woman was motionless, but the girl was stirring. Kate saw John’s eyes flick back to the dark figure hiding in the trees as it started to move away from them.

  “Be quiet,” he whispered, but the sobbing grew louder. The girl took a breath and cried uncontrollably.

  Kate saw the figure stop moving and seem to turn back.

  John looked at her. “I have to get the girl.”

  She shook her head, slowly at first, then insistently. “No, stay here with me.”

  Kate looked past the girl. Saw the figure hesitate in the brush, like he’d heard it, too. The sobbing grew louder as the sirens got closer. The figure moved toward them. John got to his feet, but stayed crouched.

  “John?”

  He turned to her for a second. “I love you,” he said. “Stay where you are, Kate. Don’t move.”

  She reached for his shirt again, but he pulled away and ran. Made it to the girl and scooped her up fast. Kate got to her knees. She glanced past John, through the trees, and saw the dark figure. She heard a loud crack, causing her to flinch. Her eyes went back to John. She watched him fall to the ground. He held onto the girl tight, shielding her from the shooter somewhere behind him.

  The girl screamed. Kate put her hands over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and she was breathing hard. The figure got closer, hesitated for a moment, then ran back into the brush and disappeared from sight.

  Kate watched in silence as officers approached in the distance. She got to her feet and ran to her husband.

  John looked up at her and kept his grip tight on the girl. Something about the way his eyes moved. “John!” she yelled as the girl squeezed out of his grip and ran away. Kate heard the officers getting closer.

  Then she heard a sound somewhere close by. A rustling in the brush. Kate stood motionless. A police officer appeared, weapon drawn. Sweat stained the rookie cop’s uniform. “You okay, ma’am?” he asked.

  Her chest was still heaving. She knelt to check on her husband. Blood pooled around his body. “Please! You have to help him!” she said desperately and looked up at the cop standing in front of her.

  More officers approached, but the cop standing over Kate waved them off. “Area’s clear!” he said to them.

  They turned back. She grabbed her husband’s face. “John? Look at me, John,” she said, her voice shaking.

  The officer grabbed his radio and called for a medic. Told dispatch to pull the ambulance into the park. Explained where they were located and told them to hurry. The cop studied the bodies on the ground. Dispatch asked how many needed transport, but he just told them to get there as fast as they could. There was a rustling in front of Kate and behind the cop. She ignored it at first, focusing instead on John. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Slowly, she glanced up. Looking past the cop, she froze in terror. Lifted he
r hand and pointed behind him. As he turned back to look, two shots rang out.

  THREE

  RILEYS SPORTS BAR was packed. A big-screen television stretched across half the length of the wall. The regulars watched a replay of a football, or soccer, game, depending on which side of the pond they were from. Those not lucky enough to find a seat stood. There were shouts and cheers as their home team scored.

  I sat by a much smaller television, watching a baseball game from four thousand miles away. It was raining hard outside the London bar. The satellite feed was choppy and the signal cut in and out every few minutes. It was ten to midnight in the United Kingdom. Ten to six in Chicago.

  The Brewers were ahead by three, but the Cubs had the bases loaded. A home game. Bottom of the third. Two outs. The kind of game you hate to lose this late in September with a week of baseball left to play in the regular season. I leaned forward. Saw the runner at third step away from the base. The pitcher looked down, did his windup, and released the ball.

  Then the satellite cut out. I raised my hands, palms up, and stared at the television. “You kidding me?”

  “Oh, come on,” a voice said from somewhere behind me.

  I looked back. Saw a woman sitting at a table alone with a drink in her hand, eyes glued to the television. She shook her head and made a face.

  “Satellite,” I said and turned back. Looked down at my food and pushed my plate away, disgusted.

  The chair skidded against the floor as she stood. I glanced back. Saw her approach. She pulled out the barstool next to me. Set her drink on the table and looked me over as she sat down.

  “Olivia,” she said as she offered her hand.

  I glanced over my shoulder again briefly, then turned back and smiled as I took it. “Frank,” I lied.

  She stared at me for a long moment. “You don’t look like a Frank,” she finally said.

  I nodded. “You don’t look like an Olivia,” I said, taking a drink.

  She smiled. “I went to university in Chicago.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Ever been to a game?”

  “All the time,” I said. “My dad used to take me. Great thing to do, father and son.”

  She stared at me. “And now you watch your team from a small television half a world away.”