Four Months in Cuba

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Four Months in Cuba Page 26

by Luana Ehrlich


  “That’s not necessary, Frank,” the DDO said a moment later, “The Senator has authorized me to inform the Bureau of his son’s kidnapping now.”

  Benson looked up from his iPad. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right, and I’m appointing you as the Bureau’s liaison.”

  Deputy Ira nodded his head at Carlton. “You’ll need to coordinate your efforts with Douglas. He’s the operations officer for Peaceful Retrieval.”

  Benson smiled and looked over at Carlton. “I’ll be happy to do that.”

  Carlton quickly pointed to me and said, “I’ll have Titus bring you up to speed on the operation.”

  * * * *

  Benson wasted little time in seeking me out once the meeting had broken up. However, my head was still reeling from the quick turn of events, so I decided to put him off until I’d had time to process what role he would play in finding Mitchell.

  With Benson, I wasn’t sure putting him off was even possible.

  “Okay,” he said, when he walked up to me, “I was wrong about the canisters being warehoused in The Bahamas instead of Santiago, but I was right about who had the weapons in the first place.”

  “You were, Frank, and I’m sorry I had to keep you in the dark about finding the canisters in Santiago.”

  “Not a problem. You said your operation was classified Top Secret, so I understand. What I don’t understand is why Senator Mitchell didn’t want the Bureau involved in finding his son.”

  “Do you know Senator Mitchell?”

  “I’ve never met the man.”

  “You probably wouldn’t ask that question if you had.”

  “So you’ve met him?”

  “Let’s just say he enjoys calling the shots and leave it at that.”

  “I figured as much.” Benson glanced down at his watch. “I have a couple of hours before I have to be back at Quantico. If you’re not tied up right now, you could brief me in on Peaceful Retrieval before I have to leave.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank. I need to be somewhere right now. Could I give you a call tomorrow?”

  “Ah . . .” Frank seemed a little distracted when Juliana walked over and joined us. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be free tomorrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you then.”

  I turned to Juliana, “I need to talk to someone before we leave. Could I text you when I’m finished?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be down in the lobby when you’re ready.”

  Before I walked away, I heard Frank ask Juliana if he could buy her a cup of coffee in the cafeteria.

  She immediately said yes.

  Chapter 32

  As I took the elevator down to the Ops Center in the lower level of the Old Headquarters Building, I checked my voice mail to see if Olivia had called me back while I was in my meeting.

  No surprises there. She hadn’t returned my call.

  Once the elevator doors opened up on the basement level, I had a choice to make. To my left were Corridors A and B. To my right were Corridors C and D, and in front of me was Corridor E.

  Each corridor led to a Real Time Management Center and the corresponding rooms that went with it.

  Since Coach Thompson was running RTM Center E, I knew I wouldn’t find Olivia in Corridor E. The last time I’d been in the Ops Center, I’d found Olivia in Corridor C, and I decided to try there first.

  When I got to the employee lounge across from RTM Center C, I popped my head in the door and asked the two ladies inside where I could find Olivia McConnell. Both women glanced at the security lanyard I was wearing around my neck to make sure I was cleared for the Ops Center, and then the younger of the two women pointed off to her right.

  “She’s probably in her office. It’s down that way.”

  The older lady said, “Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t answer.”

  I had to knock twice before Olivia finally opened the door.

  “What are you doing down here?” she asked.

  “What else? I’ve come to see you.”

  “I told you to call me. I didn’t say I wanted to see you.”

  “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “If you insist,” she said, stepping aside and pointing over toward the single chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

  “Why are you all dressed up?” she asked, as she sat down behind her desk. “Have you been to a funeral?”

  “No, I’ve been in the DDO’s office for the past two hours.”

  “Close enough. What were you doing there?”

  “The deputy wanted me at the Joint Task Force meeting.”

  “Did he give you kudos for finding the missing canisters?”

  “The kudos were mostly for himself.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” She leaned back in her chair. “I heard you found the canisters, but you didn’t find Ben.”

  “That’s right. Have you been reading the field reports?”

  She nodded. “Just the most recent ones. I’ve only been back at work a few days.”

  “You’re looking great.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t patronize me, Titus. None of my clothes fit, and I haven’t had a chance to get my hair cut.”

  Olivia was a tall, thin woman with short black hair that barely covered her ears. To me, she looked exactly the way she’d looked for the past twenty years, although she didn’t appear as stressed as the last time I’d seen her in the Ops Center.

  “I’m not patronizing you, Olivia. I believe the time away from this place has been good for you. You certainly don’t look as stressed as you did a few months ago.”

  She gestured at the pile of papers on her desk. “Come back and see me when I’ve finished reading those.”

  “I might do that, as long as you promise not to throw me out.”

  She looked away for a minute, and then I saw her do something she seldom did—she smiled.

  It wasn’t a big smile, but at least the corners of her mouth were turned up slightly.

  “I apologize for that. I was just startled to see you, and I reacted like I always do when I feel threatened.”

  “I didn’t know I was—”

  She held up her hand. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were threatening me, but . . . well . . . what I was trying to say was . . .”

  She shook her head. “Oh, I don’t know what I was trying to say. I have a lot swimming around in my head these days.”

  For a moment, I wondered if Olivia was still on pain medication and it was affecting her thought processes, but then it occurred to me I knew what was going on with her.

  “It sounds like you might be going through what I went through when I got back from Tehran. Like you, I’d just become a believer, and I was having a hard time not reacting to people and situations the way I usually did. I also felt my world was a little off-kilter.”

  “I don’t know, Titus. I’m not sure that’s what I—”

  “Okay, let me ask you a question. Do you feel guilty about things you’ve never felt guilty about before?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, leaning forward and nodding her head, “especially when I see people dying of hunger in the world, while I’m eating my fill of anything I want.”

  “Actually, Olivia, what I was referring to was feeling guilty about treating someone badly or saying something rude, or getting angry with someone, things like that, personal attitudes.”

  “I can see why that might bother you. You’ve always had a tendency to do those things. What’s bothering me these days is the lack of compassion I’ve had for the less fortunate in the world. Do you realize there are over 700 million people on the planet that don’t have access to clean water? That’s appalling.”

  “Yes, I guess it is.”

  “Until I started reading my Bible, I had no idea Jesus talked so much about helping the poor and taking care of orphans.”

  “You’ve been reading your Bible?”

  “Of course I have. I’ve also been attending a church in McLean that
has a feeding program for the homeless, and a couple of weeks ago, I volunteered to help in their kitchen one night a week. You wouldn’t believe how many people this church helps on a daily basis.”

  As I sat there listening to Olivia describing what she’d been doing since she’d made her commitment of faith, I was astonished at the transformation in her.

  True, I couldn’t see much difference in the way she was relating to me, and when she told me what she’d said to the pastor about the deficiencies in his feeding program, it was obvious Olivia’s acerbic nature was pretty much intact.

  Still, as long as I’d known Olivia, she’d never shown a caring attitude toward another human being in her life, so I had to believe the change I saw in her had to be the result of God changing her heart.

  As I compared my own experience with the about-face I saw in Olivia, it made me wonder if God worked in each believer differently, perhaps in a way unique for that individual.

  “I don’t think you’re listening to me,” Olivia said.

  “Of course, I’m listening to you. I can repeat everything you just said.”

  “Don’t bother. I don’t have time for that.” She glanced down at her watch. “I’m due in Center C in a few minutes.”

  “You haven’t told me why you texted me this morning.”

  “That’s because you haven’t asked me.”

  “I’m asking you now.”

  “Then I’ll tell you.”

  * * * *

  Olivia used a key to open the bottom drawer of her desk and extract a file folder. The words TOP SECRET were stamped across the front of it in red letters.

  “When I was reading the brief on Peaceful Retrieval, I noticed an anomaly in the analysts’ data on Rafael Lorenzo, and I was wondering if you’d seen it.”

  An ability to recognize patterns and do risk assessments were two of Olivia’s specialties, and the suits on the seventh floor had recognized these attributes very early in Olivia’s career. As a result, Olivia’s time at the Agency had mostly been spent at headquarters, which was a good thing, because Olivia was a lousy covert operative.

  “What sort of anomaly?” I asked.

  “He doesn’t own a business that’s not connected with the drug trade. Every lieutenant in the Los Zetas cartel—and this is also true in the Sinaloa cartel—is affiliated in some way with a legitimate business enterprise. It’s a way for them to maintain some sort of standing in the community, and, in some cases, to hide their drug connections from their family.”

  “Doesn’t Lorenzo own a bunch of warehouses? And what about Club Nocturno?”

  She shook her head. “Those businesses are both connected to the drug trade. I’m talking about a manufacturing plant or a food service, something along those lines. For example, Franco Cabello owns a textile factory in Haiti.”

  “Lorenzo is on the Tourism Board in Santiago. He helps the governor promote the city’s tourism industry. Perhaps that’s what gives him legitimacy.”

  “That sounds more beneficial to the governor than it does to Lorenzo.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not sure what benefit Lorenzo gets out of that connection. Even if I knew, I don’t see how it would help us locate where Lorenzo has taken Ben.”

  Olivia pointed down at the file folder. “All the evidence suggests he’s being held in El Cobre. If I were you, I’d have our analysts drill down a little deeper into the relationship between Lorenzo and Gilberto. Perhaps the governor owns property in El Cobre.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about exploring the connection between the two men, and El Cobre might be the place to start. As it stands right now, I’m not sure there’s enough time to locate Ben before the cartel makes the final arrangements for his handover.”

  Olivia put the folder back in her desk drawer and locked it. When she pushed her chair away from her desk, she shook her head and said, “Ben has more chance of surviving his kidnapping if you locate him before the exchange. I’m sure you know the statistics aren’t in his favor otherwise.”

  As I followed her over to the door, I said, “You know me, Olivia. I’ve never been impressed with statistics. Just give me the bottom line.”

  “Nothing ever goes the way it’s supposed to go during a high-profile kidnapping. Find Ben before he becomes a statistic.”

  * * * *

  When I left Olivia, I rode the elevator up to Carlton’s office on the fourth floor. I had no plans to see Carlton, though. I wanted to talk to his secretary, Sally Jo Hartford.

  Sally Jo had been Carlton’s secretary for as long as I could remember. However, she was more than his secretary; she was his gatekeeper, his personal assistant, and his Agency informer.

  As someone who kept Carlton informed on all matters related to Agency personnel, Sally Jo had contacts everywhere, from the servers in the cafeteria to the suits on the seventh floor.

  What I needed from Sally Jo was the name of one of her contacts.

  Whether or not I got that name would depend on my ability to convince her I needed the name to keep me out of hot water, something I thought she might care about—but then again, she might not. You never knew with Sally Jo.

  When I entered the reception area, Sally Jo had just come out of Carlton’s office. She was glancing down at some documents in her hand, and she didn’t notice me standing there until she walked over to her desk.

  “Titus Ray,” she said, when she looked up.

  “Hi, Sally Jo.”

  She smiled. “It’s good to see you. Welcome back.”

  I tilted my head to one side and stared at her for a few seconds. “You look different. Did you get your hair cut?”

  She ran her hand down the back of her head. “Yes, but I think the girl cut it too short.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I really like it. You look nice.”

  “I could say the same thing about you. Nowadays, young people dress so casually. It’s very inappropriate.”

  Sally Jo was wearing a solid blue suit, white blouse, sensible shoes, and pearls—more or less the same attire she’d worn for the past decade.

  “I agree. I can’t imagine what young people are thinking these days.”

  When she sat down, she glanced over at her computer screen. “I’m sorry, Titus. I don’t have you on Mr. Carlton’s schedule. If you really needed to see him, though, I could probably fit you in.”

  “That’s not necessary, Sally Jo. I actually stopped by to see you.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “The last time someone told me that they wanted me to do them a favor.”

  “And did you?”

  “Well, yes, as a matter of fact I did, but, as I recall, they gave me something in return.”

  I sat down in the chair in front of her desk. “So if I asked you to give me the name of someone in Financial Services, say someone who takes care of the requisitions for our division, would you be willing to give me that name? That is, as long as I offered to give you something in return?”

  “Ummm,” she said, pressing her lips together. “You would need to be more specific about why you might want that name.”

  “Okay, to be more specific, I need to reimburse the Agency for some personal items I ordered, items that weren’t on the operational mandate for Peaceful Retrieval, and I need the name of someone who would allow me to do that without asking too many questions.”

  “You mean you ordered some unauthorized items?”

  I nodded. “That’s right. After I reimburse the Agency, I’d also like for those items to be removed from the official record.”

  Sally Jo folded her hands in front of her and made tsk-tsk sounds while slowly shaking her head back and forth. I had the feeling she reacted the same way whenever she caught her grandchildren stealing cookies from her cookie jar.

  “Well, Titus, by any chance would those items be some paperback Bibles you included in the supply package Wally delivered from Gitmo to the safe house in Santiago?”

  I hung my head and nodded. “You
got me, Sally Jo.”

  “Lucky for you I have someone in Financial Services who alerted me to this discrepancy before they brought it to Mr. Carlton’s attention, or, heaven forbid, it landed on Deputy Ira’s desk.”

  I groaned. “Dire consequences, that’s for sure.”

  “You probably don’t know the half of it.”

  She picked up a pen, scribbled something down on a slip of paper, and handed it to me. “I took care of the situation, but you’ll still need to go talk to this person in Financial Services ASAP.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you stop the—”

  “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not about to tell you how I handled it. I have my own secrets to keep.”

  “And you’re very good at it too.”

  She smiled. “Of course I am. I was taught by the best.”

  * * * *

  After I dropped Juliana off at The Gray, I called Nikki and asked her if she could meet me somewhere for dinner.

  “I’m sorry, Titus,” she said. “Could we do it tomorrow? I’m having an exam in the morning, and I need to study tonight. Once it’s over, I’ll be free the rest of the day.”

  “Then why don’t you come out to The Meadows tomorrow night and let me cook dinner for you?”

  “That sounds perfect. I usually drive out there and visit with Stormy on Tuesday afternoons anyway.”

  “It’s settled then. We wouldn’t want to disappoint Stormy.”

  Chapter 33

  Tuesday, August 11

  When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I thought about was that I’d be seeing Nikki today.

  The second thing that popped in my mind was that I had to call Frank Benson and figure out when I could brief him on Peaceful Retrieval.

  Until the second thing was off my plate, I knew I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the first thing. Even so, I decided to put off calling Benson until I’d had some breakfast.

  When I went downstairs, I found Millie in the kitchen making pancakes for Arkady. After she insisted I try some, I sat down and devoured six of them.

 

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