Court did not reply.
“Look at us,” Coyle said. “You and me. Our wee talks. Our lives seem…intertwined, don’t they? Well…they’re even more so now, yeah?”
Court said, “You had a chance of surviving all this, Coyle. If you gave up, if you stopped chasing me, stopped working for Gauntlet. If you went home, if you went back into retirement. If you grieved the death of your son like a normal human.
“If you’d doneanyof that…you would have walked away.
“But now you have no chance.”
The Northern Irishman said, “What happened to the bloke who told me vengeance was a fool’s errand?”
“He’s long gone.”
“Yeah? What now, then?”
“Now you’re left with me, and I won’t rest until you’re fucking dead.”
“You’re not hearing me, mate. I did not kill your da on purpose. He made me.”
“And your son shot me in the fucking chest. The circumstances didn’t matter to you, and they sure as hell don’t matter to me.”
After a time, Campbell Coyle said, “I suppose it’s all the same. Peoplelike us are always going to suffer the same fate. Pledge allegiance to a flag, an idea, a value. Then we’re killed for it, and we rot under the flag we died for.”
Court replied, “I’m thinking this, what’s happening to us, is about you and me. About fathers and sons. About the past and the present. It’s got nothing to do with a flag. The flag is up there in D.C. for me, and it’s in tatters right now, but I’m not blamingitfor what happened down in Florida.”
Coyle said, “Yeah, about that. I’m no longer in the employ of those in your government who, for some reason, seem to want todestroyyour government, or help someone else do so. I’m goin’ away. I won’t be showing up at your door. Not now. You can grieve your da, because what happened shouldn’t have happened, and that’s not what I was trying to do.
“In a month. In a year. I don’t know. Someday, maybe, I’ll not be able to sleep thinkin’ about what you did to my Charlie, and maybe I’ll not be able to live knowin’ what might happen to wee Ronan. If that happens, I’ll come back, and I’ll finish this. But not now. Not like this.”
“You’re going to run and hide, then?”
“No. I’m going to go reach out to Charlie’s wife, the woman who hates me, blames me more than she does you, for what happened. I’m going to beg her to let me help her with Ronan.
“And then, Court, I’m going to go grieve at the grave of my boy. Probably at the exact same time you are standin’ at yer da’s funeral.
“What did I just say?” Coyle said. “You and me…cosmically intertwined, we are.”
Court hung up the phone and stared out the window at the winter sun over the water.
—
The Vision was less than thirty minutes from touchdown at Hampton Roads when Court called Hanley. Erin Childers, code name Conductor, answered, and she gave her sincere condolences.
But Court wasn’t in the mood for sympathy. “Thanks,” was all he said. Then, “I need Matt.”
“Here he is.”
Hanley took the phone. “I’m talking to Skip. Feds are down there already, he can’t tell what agency, they aren’t talking, but it looks like Homeland Security Investigations.”
“Why is Homeland involved?”
“All the dead are U.S. citizens. Not sure why HSI is there, but the only thing I can think of is that someone high in the government knows about you, knows Jim was your dad, and they’re trying to find out where you are right now.”
Court didn’t really give a shit. He knew he should, but he didn’t.
Hanley said, “I’m going to see that your father is buried at Arlington. Full honors. He deserved that for his service in the Marine Corps, even if he didn’t have you as a son.”
Court softened now. “Thanks, Matt. That means more than you can imagine.”
