“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not sure what you expect to get out of this,” said Pine.
“We have hostages. That gives us leverage. You want these people alive, there is a price to be paid.”
“I would imagine that you know the FBI does not allow kidnappers to walk out with hostages.”
“Then they’re dead. Are you prepared for that?”
Pine forced herself not to look at either Blum or Puller.
“I won’t be the one pulling the trigger on them. But if you do, I will pull the trigger on you.”
Gorman shook his head and smiled. “Goes with the territory.”
Pine said to Axilrod, “That go for you, too, Lindsey? Are you sure you can pull the trigger with that bum hand?”
The woman just stared back venomously at Pine and said nothing.
“You need to become more nuanced, Lindsey. Your poker face sucks.”
“You’re not walking out of here alive, Pine,” snapped Axilrod.
“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that.” She glanced at Franklin, “Well, Congresswoman, where do you stand on all this? You ready to go down with the ship?”
Franklin fought back tears and whimpered, “I . . . I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, thanks for the help,” said Pine derisively.
The sirens had stopped but now they heard feet thundering above them.
Pine slid her fingers right up to the triggers on both her guns.
“You’re out of time, Gorman,” she said.
“Good-bye, Pine,” said Gorman. “You fought the good fight. And see what it got you?”
The shot hit him right in the middle of the forehead, and blood geysered into the air from the entry spot. He slumped to the floor dead.
Pine jumped to the left wondering where the hell the bullet that had just killed Adam Gorman had come from.
Axilrod had ducked down out of the way. Now she screamed and started to raise her gun to shoot Blum, but Pine hit her with a ferocious kick that leveled the woman and sent her gun spinning out of her hand.
When Axilrod tried to struggle to her feet, Pine laid her out with a crushing blow to the jaw that put the woman down for good.
Pine whirled around at the doorway where the kill shot on Gorman had come from.
The door swung slowly open.
And there stood a heavily bandaged and pale John Puller, his M11 dangling down next to his right side. In a flash, Pine realized that Puller had fired through the gap between the back edge of the door and the doorjamb.
“John?” said a bewildered Pine. “What in the hell?”
“Army strong, Atlee,” he said quietly before collapsing to the floor.
CHAPTER
69
THERE WILL BE VERY LIMITED public disclosure of this,” said Warren Graham.
He was sitting in a conference room at the New York Field Office. Arrayed around him were Pine, the two Pullers, and Carol Blum.
“Why?” said Pine sharply.
Graham placed his hands palms down on the table as though he needed additional support for what he was about to say.
“It’s complicated and multilayered, but I’ll give you the Cliffs-Notes version.” He paused, seemingly to marshal his thoughts. “We have dozens and dozens of open indictments. They range from politicians at the federal and state levels to Wall Street money types to CEOs to judges to bureaucrats to cops to intel agents, and even to some people who ‘used’ to work for the Bureau. There will be more indictments as this unfolds. We have also arrested twenty foreign suspects.”
“So were other countries behind this?” asked Robert Puller.
“Doubtful. Our counterparts in other countries are now investigating similar operations going on there. Apparently, blackmail and pay-to-play ops do not stop at one country’s borders.”
When Pine started to say something, Graham lifted his hand. “Let me finish, Agent Pine. I will not downplay the seriousness of all of this. We all paid the price for their dereliction of duty. Now, some of them were innocent dupes, caught up in something that they never imagined would happen to them.”
Pine could contain herself no longer. “But they had choices, sir. They could have gone to the police. They could have come to us. They could have gone public.”
Robert Puller added, “Or they could have resigned their positions and thus taken away the possibility that they could use their positions to hurt this country.”
“They could have done all those things,” agreed Graham. “But none of them, not a one that we know of, at least, chose to do so.”
John Puller said, “But after having been blackmailed, why wouldn’t they warn others about this scheme? I mean, if they knew colleagues were going to these places and would be filmed and then blackmailed?”
“I have personally questioned seven of them on that very point. Their answers were remarkably the same: They were ashamed and they couldn’t bring themselves to tell anyone else their secret. And after they used their official positions to further their blackmailer’s biddings, well, it became legally impossible for them to admit to anything without suffering the consequences. That is a blackmailer’s stock in trade.”
Robert Puller said, “So how bad was the damage?”
“Very bad,” said Graham grimly. “It will take us years to unravel it all. But it does explain many decisions and acts by public officials and companies and other interests across a broad spectrum. They were serving another master, not the people of this country. The public servants violated their oath of office. The others committed serious felonies. This thing has apparently been going on for quite some time.”
Robert Puller said, “But Gorman and the like were being paid by others to blackmail these people to take the action they did. What about those folks? They are definitely enemies of this country. There needs to be consequences.”
“We’re interviewing people and compiling those lists. More indictments will come, as I said. I can tell you preliminarily that other nation states, foreign and domestic companies, and other monied interests are on those lists. If they couldn’t win by healthy competition, they apparently resorted to cheating by having folks in positions of power side with them for fear of their own sordid secrets coming out. Blackmailers usually just want money. Gorman and the others were playing a more sophisticated game. A court decision here, a law passed there, a merger okayed or not, a criminal prosecution dropped, a company making a decision to leave a market, the possibilities were endless.”
“Why did they have the parties up there for Tony Vincenzo and the others?” asked Blum.
Graham said, “They were filming them, too, and many of them were doing drugs and other illegal activities and engaging in things that might be embarrassing if they were ever made public. They figured it was a way to keep them in line down the road. Stay the course or the film ends up with the cops.”
“What about Peter Driscoll?” said Pine.
“Ironically, we could find no evidence that Driscoll was involved in this. But he’s not entirely blame free, either. Turns out his grandson, Jeff Sands, tried repeatedly to meet with him to seek help for his drug addiction. Driscoll never did so, apparently afraid that conceding that he had a drug-dealing relative, even one who was trying to beat his addiction, would tarnish his own reputation.”
“And Nora Franklin?” said Pine.
“One of the first recruits to the scheme. We’ve thoroughly interviewed her. That trip she and Gorman took overseas? It was to get her into the fold. She came back and immediately sought political office, backed by Gorman and his associates. And she won, and kept winning, gaining seats on powerful committees and relaying top secret information to Gorman, who, in turn, sold it to our enemies for top dollar. And she gained a fortune in the bargain.”
“And the opponent in her last election?” said John Puller.
“Became a significant threat. Franklin had begun to ignore her constituents. A local and charism
atic businessman who was running on a campaign of reform came out of nowhere and was leading her by double digits.”
“How did they blackmail him?” asked Puller.
“They couldn’t find a way to do that, so they took a different angle. He grew seriously ill and had to drop out of the race. The doctors couldn’t identify what was wrong and he was still suffering. But knowing what we did, we had him tested for a variety of poisons. It was an industrial chemical that he was somehow exposed to. Now that they know, he can be treated. He’ll never be cured, unfortunately. But it can be managed.”
“Well, he’s luckier than Jerome Blake or Agent McElroy,” said Pine. “Jerome died because he knew about Jewel’s having sex at that penthouse. They were afraid of who he might talk to. And while McElroy was the one to die, I think they were aiming at John and me. But regardless, they were always going to pin it on Jerome to get him out of the way and scare Jewel into never talking.”
“I think you’re right about that,” said Graham.
“What about Lindsey Axilrod?” asked Pine.
“Her real name is Svetlana Semenov. She was an agent with the FSS, which is the successor to the KGB. She’s been in this country for years after having her real identity thoroughly laundered through three different countries. She is a real IT expert, and that landed her the job at Fort Dix.”
“But I thought you said foreign states were not involved in this,” said Robert Puller.
“Semenov wasn’t working for the FSS, at least not for the last ten years. We’ve had discussions with our counterparts over there. She went AWOL around that time. I think she eventually hooked up with Gorman and they decided to go the private route, with money as the objective.”
“And what will happen to her?” asked Pine.
“That will largely be up to DOJ and the State Department. She could be a powerful chit.”
“You are not thinking about a prisoner exchange or anything like that,” said Pine sharply.
“If it were up to me, the woman would never see the light of day, but it’s not up to me,” retorted Graham. “Then again, sending her back to the Russians, after she screwed them over?” He smiled. “That might be the best thing we could do to punish her.”
“And what will happen to Franklin?” asked Pine.
“Oh, she’s going to prison. We’re going to do a deal with her to avoid the need for a trial. The charges will remain sealed. She will never speak of it publicly. The basic rationale will be put down to financial misdeeds.”
“So it will all be buried,” said Pine. “I just don’t get that, sir.”
“I never said I was in agreement with it, Pine. And that decision came from several levels above me. The down-and-dirty explanation I was given was that if the public found out, they could never trust their leaders again.”
“Well, they apparently can’t trust their leaders, so isn’t that the point?” interjected Robert Puller.
“Well, even with the breadth of this scheme, these folks only represent a small fraction of people in positions of power and influence.”
Pine said, “You know some journalists are going to start digging into this and they’re going to uncover the truth and people are going to win slews of Pulitzers off this.”
“And part of me hopes that they do,” replied Graham. “Freedom of the press is in the very first amendment, after all.” He paused again and surveyed them. “But with that said, you will have to hold this in the strictest confidence all the way to the grave. I’m certain I can count on you for that.”
It wasn’t spoken as a question.
Then Graham said, “I was told to make that statement to you, and I did. What I wasn’t told to say is what I’m going to say now. Each of you put your lives on the line for your country. If it were up to me, the public would know all about it and would be singing your praises, and you would be given all the awards and recognition that you undoubtedly deserve. That would be in an ideal world. We, unfortunately, do not live in that kind of a world. But I want you to know that certain people do know of your sacrifice and loyalty to this country, and they wanted me to extend their thanks and through them the heartfelt gratitude of a nation. And now I will stop making speeches, and all of you can go on with your lives. However, if there is anything that you need, all you have to do is call me.” He glanced at Pine. “And my old friend, Clint Dobbs, is lucky to have you out there in Arizona. Tell him to be careful—other field offices might want to snatch you up, starting with this one.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that, sir,” said Pine. “Everyone needs a bargaining chip now and then.”
They all filed out. The Puller brothers walked ahead of them and were in conversation.
Pine said to Blum. “I’m so sorry for all this, Carol. I know I keep apologizing, but I feel awful.”
“Please don’t, Agent Pine. Aside from being beaten and almost killed, it was very exciting. Put a spring in my step.”
“You really are a national treasure, Carol Blum.”
“Remember to put in a good word for me when it’s time for salary review.”
“Oh, I see quite a nice bump in your pay after this. And Dobbs may finally approve a new SUV for me. The one I drive now has two hundred and fifty thousand miles on it.”
“Would you ever actually think of going to another field office?”
“No, but if I ever do, I’ll check with you first.”
“Well, I would hope you would give me a heads-up if you were leaving.”
Pine gripped her by the shoulder. “You’re missing my point. We’re a package deal. If I go, you go, too. And if you won’t go, I won’t, either. Now, I need to talk to the Pullers.”
They caught up with the brothers.
“How are you feeling, John?” she asked.
Puller was still bandaged up but looking far healthier and stronger. “Almost back to normal. I’ll still need more rehab. Although I am persona non grata at a certain New York City hospital ever since I ‘escaped’ that night.”
“And boy, am I glad you did,” said his brother. “Your timing was spot-on, as usual.”
The Pullers looked at Pine’s grim features, and their joking manner quickly dissipated.
“What is it, Atlee?” said John Puller.
“I need some information on two Vietnam-era soldiers.”
“You know their names?”
“One you already know. Ito Vincenzo. The other is a Leonard Atkins. He lives or he lived in Taliaferro County, Georgia. He apparently served with Ito Vincenzo. And Atkins apparently saved his life over there.”
“And why is Atkins important?” asked Puller.
Pine held up the photo of Mercy. “Because that’s who Ito gave my sister to.”
CHAPTER
70
THE FLIGHT TO ATLANTA FROM NEW YORK was not even three hours. Yet to Pine it felt like three years. She sat next to Blum, alternating between staring out the window and looking at the old Polaroid. She had scrutinized it so many times, it surprised her when she saw a detail she hadn’t observed before. The long hairs on Mercy’s exposed legs. The tear in the shoulder of her dress. How her little finger was bent in at an awkward angle. What looked like a severe burn on her ankle.
And behind the three people and next to the mobile trailer, the snout and curved ears of a large hog. And behind that, ominously, a steel peg in the ground with a chain attached.
Surely for a dog, thought Pine. Surely.
Blum turned and saw what Pine was doing. She reached over and gripped her hand, surprising her boss for an instant before Pine smiled embarrassedly. “I guess it’s sort of crazy to keep looking at this picture.”
“It’s not crazy, it’s perfectly natural. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now. But what you should keep in mind is how much progress you’ve made, Agent Pine. Look at where we’re headed right now. A short time ago did you ever think this would be possible?”
Pine squeezed her hand. “You’re right, Ca
rol. And thanks for helping me keep this in perspective.”
They landed and drove in a rental car straight to Jack Lineberry’s house about an hour south of Atlanta.
He was sitting up in a chair in his bedroom at the palatial estate. Looking out a window to the rear grounds, Pine saw where the cottage had been—the cottage that had been bombed while she had been inside it. It had been demolished, and a crew was now rebuilding it. They were finishing up pouring a new foundation. She saw stacks of boards lying nearby. She assumed those would be used to frame the house next.
She glanced at Lineberry, a tall, handsome man in his sixties, as he sat in a chair. He looked pale and still weak, but there was strength in the hug he had given her and his eyes were clear and focused.
When Pine showed him the photo, he at first shook his head, and then his chin dropped, and the man began to weep. This was so unexpected that Pine didn’t know what to do. Blum put a comforting arm around his quaking shoulders.
Then it struck Pine.
Shit, you idiot, that’s his daughter.
That truth had come so recently to Pine that it hadn’t even occurred to her when she handed him the photo.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, kneeling down on the other side of him. “I just wasn’t thinking clearly.”
He waved her apology away and composed himself. He handed her back the photo. “Do you know where that was taken?”
“Taliaferro County. North and east of here. Ito Vincenzo could have made it there and back in one day. Which he did.”
“And you’re sure this is . . . Mercy?”
“I have other evidence which supports that conclusion.”
“The Atkinses, Len, Wanda, and Becky?”
“Ito served in the Army with Leonard Atkins. I found out Atkins was severely wounded. He came back to the States, was discharged, and moved back to Georgia.”
Lineberry looked puzzled. “But if he was of Ito’s generation, he would be far older than would be typical for someone wanting a child Mercy’s age. I’m presuming that Ito brought Mercy to them as . . . I don’t want to say a gift, but you know what I mean.”
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