“Martine Connor does not have years unless she runs for a second term. We need an inside source at the CIA,” Maggie said. “How about we have the Post do an exposé of the CIA. We wouldn’t necessarily have to do it; just the hint that it was forthcoming might stir things up. Those people get away with murder, and I’ve heard they answer to no one, not even the president. Well, they do, but they thumb their nose at the administration and go about their business. No one wants a major worldwide newspaper sniffing into their secrets and how they conduct business. We did it with the FBI, you may remember, and they were crawling out of the woodwork to show the world how warm and fuzzy they were.”
Annie’s voice was gleeful. “That’s a wonderful idea. Do any of you think Elias Cummings might know someone high enough up on the food chain at the CIA? I know, I know, the FBI and the CIA hate each other, but Elias is retired now, and possibly someone he knew at the CIA is retired now, too. Maybe, just maybe, they could get together and sort of have a talk. You know, two old cronies talking about their glory days, that kind of thing. They do that all the time in spy novels.”
“We can run it up the flagpole,” Nikki said. “If anyone salutes, we act on it. Myra, make a note to call Nellie and run this by her so she can run it by Elias. And, let’s not forget Bert. He might know a few higher-ups who would be willing to talk. It’s worth a shot.”
Maggie started to text Ted, outlining a course of action.
Charles Martin looked around the table. It was all getting away from him, and he was powerless to help his old friend. He slumped in his chair and waited for the next volley of give-and-take.
Outside on the terrace, the lemonade pitcher was empty, as was Harry’s teacup. Espinosa got up and lowered the retractable awning. “It sure is taking the girls a long time to do whatever it is they’re doing,” he said sourly.
“Why don’t you just say it like it is: They’re plotting to take down Hank Jellicoe, and I can’t say I blame them. The guy is a real son of a bitch. I hope they fry his ass in hell,” Bert said.
“We need to get real here, guys. We went into it with our eyes wide open. Good old Hank played to our greed, so we can’t fault him for that. The guy’s smart. But the bastard could have gotten the same results from us if he’d just leveled with us from the beginning. The one thing that guy didn’t count on was the bond the girls have among themselves. He totally discounted that, and now he’s going to pay, and I don’t feel one bit sorry for him,” Jack said.
“That was all personal. We need to look at the whole picture here and get to the bottom of why Jellicoe did what he did. I’m just not buying that chatter business and a threat to the president, yada yada yada,” Bert said.
“So what is it?” Ted asked.
“Let’s try dissecting it and see what we come up with. First, he offers us jobs for outrageous sums of money. We agree. The girls are pardoned just hours before he makes the offer. We quit our jobs, take him up on his offer, the girls agree to go where he stations us. We all agreed on this so far?” Four heads bobbed up and down. “We go to a stupid boot camp, then we split up. Our jobs are just window dressing. There was no meat to them. We reviewed reports, did a payroll, monitored the complaint box with no complaints. We had the best of everything, and the money just kept rolling in. The perks were outstanding. But…we were cut off from each other. There was no way for us to communicate. The girls figured it out before we did, and that doesn’t say much for us,” Jack observed.
“We had access to world news via the Internet, and nothing was going down anywhere in the world that involved Global Securities or us. Correct me if I’m wrong and I missed something.” The others simply shrugged.
“Our relationships soured. Jack is right, the girls figured it out before we did. Harry was the first to revolt. Then Ted and Espinosa. You, Jack, because of the luck of the draw, found out and set the wheels in motion to leave and you clued me in and here we are. We were almost hijacked. And let me tell you something else. Those figures you saw on that first private plane were the same guys who were on the one we took. If Murphy hadn’t balked, we would have gotten on that plane. We backed away, and they had to scurry to make arrangements for the second plane. We thought our side was doing all the arranging, but I bet my life savings our side played into their side, and it worked out perfectly for them. Who the hell is going to say no to people like them? They make their offer, the girls say they’ll think about it, and we get off the plane. We get off, they don’t. Which brings us to where we are right now, sitting here on this terrace with an empty lemonade pitcher. It was the girls all along. That’s who they wanted to separate. Not us dumb clucks—them, the girls,” Bert said as he paced up and down the terrace, smacking one fist into the other in frustration.
“Why? What did Jellicoe think the girls could or would do? It’s not like they were best buds with the president. They didn’t have in-and-out access to the White House,” Ted said.
“No, they didn’t, but Lizzie did and probably still does. Jellicoe knows about the bond the girls have with Lizzie. This is all about female bonding, something none of us sitting here can or will ever understand. See, Jellicoe is just like us; he didn’t understand it, either. His downfall,” Jack said.
“You said when you saw Jellicoe on the plane it looked like he’d disguised himself. You said maybe plastic surgery or some latex on his face. Nikki said he admitted to staining his skin with walnut juice and that he had dreadlocks,” Espinosa said.
“Yeah, so?” Jack said.
“So why did he have to go to those lengths to disguise himself? Where was he, and was he alone? Why didn’t he send his people, who are trained in all this crap, to do whatever he did. The guy is no youngster. He’s got to be in his midsixties, maybe older. I thought someone said he was the same age or around the same age as Charles,” Espinosa said, refusing to give up without an answer. “My point is, men that age do not go around infiltrating nefarious cells or organizations like a rookie would. I read espionage novels, and those guys are always retired out around forty because of the stress and their cover getting blown. It’s a young guy’s game, not for some old geezer like Jellicoe.”
Bert rubbed at the bristles on his chin. “You know something, Espinosa, sometimes you make a lot of sense, and this is one of those times. What you didn’t mention is that Jellicoe would have to have invented what we call in the business a background to fit the identity he’s assuming, and you’re right, we send our best agents out to pasture after forty. Mainly because they’re burned out. They get desk jobs, try to salvage their family life, which went on without him or her, as the case may be. The agents tend to end up drinking too much and leave the Bureau and work as security guards or for someone like Jellicoe because it’s in their blood. Which now brings us back to the question Espinosa asked: Why?”
“Well, according to the girls, it has to do with an attempt on the president’s life, which would cripple her administration. Do not forget that Jellicoe handed over a rather large sparkler to the president the night she gave out the pardons. Maggie said that has been off-limits to the press and not one word has ever been mentioned about the president’s romantic life after that night. We don’t even know if she still has the ring. With Lizzie coming in later today, I am sure her first assignment will be a trip to the White House to find out what she can,” Jack said.
“What’s bothering me the most is why the CIA and DHS would deny to the others that they had picked up on the chatter, unless they are telling the truth and the others are lying. That’s more and more what I’m beginning to think,” Ted said. “I want to work on that angle.”
“You have my permission,” Bert said. “I hate those guys at Langley. They’re all full of themselves, and pricks in the bargain. They wouldn’t admit to a rainstorm if they were standing in water up to their necks.”
“I agree with Bert,” Jack said. “What about you, Harry?”
“I train some of their top agents twice a year. They’re ok
ay guys, full of themselves, and their eyes are empty,” Harry said. “The refresher course is coming up soon. All of my scheduling got screwed up while I was away.”
As a group, they swooped in on Harry as they pelted him with questions. “Harry, I absolutely, truly, unequivocally love you with all my heart. We want names. Can you call those agents in and say something like you’re going away and you need to up their time or something? I bet you even have some weeds or herbs you could put in that shitty tea you make them drink to cleanse their digestive tract. You know, stuff that will make them spill their guts and not remember we grilled them. You can do that, right, Harry?”
“Eat shit, Jack. That’s against the law. The answer is no.”
“Okay, then Bert and I will do it. We’ll take the refresher course with them. I’m feeling the love here, Harry. I mean, I’m really feeling it. I knew you’d come through for us, buddy. Harry Wong, you are my knight in shining armor,” Jack gushed.
Jack saw the squirrel on the terrace eyeing him as he sailed through the air and landed in a bush full of brilliant purple flowers. He picked up his bruised and battered body and hobbled his way back up to the terrace, where he made sure to stay as far away from Harry as he could. Though, to Harry’s dismay, he made kissing cooing noises.
“I know you’re always short on words, Harry, and going physical is your way of showing affection. I soooo love you, Harry,” Jack said.
In spite of himself Harry burst out laughing.
Chapter 17
Lizzie Fox arrived at Pinewood to a robust greeting just as dusk was settling. In the mad scramble to get to the kitchen from the terrace, silver and crystal flew in all directions. Charles, hoping for a little approval from his guests, had outdone himself with dinner, which he served on the terrace. He stood up with the boys and trailed into the kitchen. His heart felt warm and yet sad at the same time as he listened to the excitement Lizzie’s visit generated. He squeezed his eyes shut when they started to burn. How could Hank have so misjudged these wonderful women and the bond they had? How? Even the boys, who admitted they knew nothing about the female mystique, understood what the women had missed in what the Sisters now referred to as their eighteen months of captivity.
And then they were all in the kitchen, the excitement still high as Lizzie whipped out picture after picture of Little Jack and described him and all his accomplishments right down to, “He does look like me but he has Cosmo’s feet. Look how big they are for such a little guy, and he’s starting to talk. He knows his name and everything. I want one of those pups for him. He loves animals. Will you part with one, Myra?”
“No, but I’ll find one for you,” Myra said when Little Lady’s wet nose nudged her leg. She reached down to pat the golden’s head to reassure her that her pups would indeed stay here at the farm and be part of her family.
Lizzie declined the dinner that Charles had kept warm in the oven. “I finally got my weight back to normal, so I have to maintain it, and I did eat on the plane. I would love some coffee, though.”
Additional chairs were carried out to the terrace, where they all sat down around the large table. The girls pitched in, and within minutes, the table was clear and Charles was serving coffee.
It was a perfect evening for the beginning of August, not too warm, not too cool. A light breeze ruffled the canvas awning with little snapping sounds. The leafy branches of the old sycamores that lined the terrace whispered as the birds that nestled among the boughs prepared for the night. Jack and Ted fired up the hurricane lamps Charles had scattered around the terrace. The lamps gave off just enough mellow light that everyone looked golden and beautiful.
It was Myra who, after hearing about Lizzie’s uneventful plane ride, brought the conversation around to the matter at hand. “Tell us what you think, dear.”
“I’ve known Hank Jellicoe for a long time. Having said that, we all know that no one can ever really know someone, especially if that person doesn’t want you to know their entire makeup. It’s hard to believe he would do what you say he did, but I do believe you. Charles is right, too. Hank is one of the most patriotic people I have ever come across. Cosmo and I have discussed this ad nauseam, and we cannot come up with why Hank would go to such lengths to separate you. We both agreed it wasn’t something Hank did on the spur of the moment; it took planning, lots and lots of planning. Cosmo thinks we need to start there to find out the why of it all. I agree with him.
“Off the top of my head, I’d say we need to go back in time to at least six weeks to two months before Hank made his offer to you to see what was going on in the covert world. Perhaps the group who hired you will be of some help. Maggie and Ted can also delve into world matters during that time. It might be something we in general wouldn’t pick up on but a trained journalist will spot right away.
“Now, as to the offer the intelligence and law-enforcement services made to you. From what you all said on the phone, you want to go to work for them. I have to warn you, it’s not the contractual slam dunk, where you just sign on the dotted line, that you might think it is. Look around you at your partners, and you’ll know what I’m talking about. I can draw up an airtight contract, secure your monies for you in advance, but I have to tell you, your immunity with each service will only be as good as the country you are in. There is no doubt in my mind that they will pony up, collectively, kazillions of dollars to you, which I can transfer into a safe haven. If you go ahead with this, which seems to be your intention, and I know it isn’t about the money, you can do a lot of good, charitable work in the world with that kind of money. I can’t be certain of this, but I assume you will be working for the most part Stateside. You have no American contract here with a representative of the president, which means no blanket immunity. If you get caught, you are right back where you were before President Connor issued your pardons. You will not get a second bite of the apple this time around. It won’t matter if the other leaders bring pressure to bear. Are you all following me?” Every head at the table nodded.
“Which now brings me to my next question. What is the time frame here? Do you even have one? I know you told the group you would give them your answer tomorrow; that’s not the issue. I’m talking about the length of time for the mission.”
“They didn’t give us a time frame. But Nikki and I walked away with the impression that time was of the essence,” Kathryn said. “We’ve been kicking this around all afternoon and came up with some ideas.” She quickly outlined Maggie’s idea with her two new columns in the Post. Lizzie nodded to show she approved.
Myra jumped in and explained about Nellie and Elias and rushed on to outline Bert’s and Harry’s roles. “Ted is going to start digging into the CIA and DHS. So if we get the ball rolling on all of that, we should have some news in a few days.”
Lizzie nodded, but she was frowning. “How did you leave it as far as signing the contracts?”
“Ari Gold gave me a burn phone. I’m to call him, day or night. I assume that’s when he will make arrangements for us to meet again. Or do you think a video conference will suffice?”
Lizzie’s frown deepened as she visualized all the things that could go wrong. “I think you should ask for both. They’re the ones who came to you, not the other way around. Stand firm and don’t give in to anything unless it is to your benefit. Right now, getting on a plane and meeting in some foreign country or at thirty thousand feet is not to your advantage.”
“We agree,” Isabelle said, as the others nodded.
“I think before we agree to anything, we should ask where Jellicoe is hanging his hat these days,” Annie said. “How many days do you think it will take before our plans bear some fruit?”
Everyone started to talk at once. When they ground to a halt, the consensus was that their labors should, if things went according to plan, bear fruit in four days.
“When are you planning to meet with President Connor, Lizzie?” Yoko asked.
“We’re scheduled for a late-aftern
oon lunch tomorrow. She squeezed me in for two fifteen. She said she could give me forty minutes. In forty minutes, I should be able to find out something. I do not want you using that burn phone unless I’m within earshot. We need to be clear on that.”
“Absolutely, dear,” Myra said.
“What if the guys we’re dealing with don’t know or won’t tell us where Jellicoe is?” Alexis asked.
“Then we’ll find him on our own. Did you forget, girls, we can do anything we set our minds to?” Annie responded. “I don’t know why I say this, but I think Mr. Hank Jellicoe will be coming to us. If not in person, then he’ll have an emissary of some sort make contact. Do any of you care to make a wager?” No one did. Annie smiled.
Maggie and Ted stood up at the same time. “I think I’m going to head back to town. I want to do some work at the paper, so I’m good to go for tomorrow’s edition. Ted will be working right alongside me.”
Espinosa got to his feet, looked over at Alexis, who wagged her finger in Maggie’s direction, a signal that he should follow them and she was staying at the farm.
Jack looked at Nikki while Bert fixed his gaze on Kathryn. “Go!” they said at the same time. Yoko smiled at Harry, who correctly interpreted the smile. He followed the others into the house.
Nikki looked at the gathering seated at the table, and said, “It’s just temporary. We all want to stay for a few days to unwind, to get our second wind, so to speak, and to nestle in here at our original home base. Sharing a space is what we all missed so much. Now that we have one back, we just want to enjoy it for a little while if it’s okay with you, Myra.”
Myra beamed and smiled from ear to ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is what Charles and I so missed, too. You can stay as long as you like—forever if need be. We’re family.”
Hours later, the girls were still seated at the table on the terrace as they shared their tales of captivity. They talked about their relationships, the future, Little Jack, and what they would do with all the money they’d been promised. When Lizzie started to yawn, the group got up and called it a night.
18. Cross Roads Page 16
