by T C Miller
“Yes, Mister Wannamaker...”
“Uh, remember last time? Call me Jim...Everybody does.”
“Right...this time we’re here about the killing of Deputy Grimes.”
“Thought so...Seems kinda funny for Feds to be looking into a small town killing...”
“Actually, it may be part of another investigation we’re conducting that I can’t talk about.”
“Did the video help you catch the guy with the broken-down truck?”
“Working on it.”
“And Harold’s death’s part of it?”
“Didn’t say that...It’s what we’re trying to determine. You didn’t happen to get any video of them, did you?”
“Not their faces...Went through everything for that day and didn’t spot nothing at the pumps that looked like an old school bus camper.”
“Wait, you said ‘not their faces’...What did you mean?”
“Just that, no faces...But, got pictures of their rig goin’ by from my drive-off’s-that-didn’t-pay camera up on a light pole. Heard they already had video from that dash cam thingy, so didn’t bother mentioning it.”
“Didn’t erase it, did you?”
“No, ma’am...Keep those for a week before they’re taped over.”
“May I have that tape, please?”
“Sure...You know I like to help law enforcement.”
“Soon as possible? I’d like to get it to our lab.”
“That mean you’re not gonna stay for a bite? Ten percent off with your badge.”
“Much as I’d like to, we need to get that tape to our people, ASAP.”
“Sure, follow me.”
AIRSPACE OVER NEVADA
After quick trip to the Sheriff’s office to pick up the other videotape, they mounted the helicopter and headed back to San Francisco. Wanamaker insisted they take a lunch and Benson stared down at a yellowish, congealed lump that was supposed to be chicken-fried steak. It had all of the appeal of old shoe leather dipped in lard and smelled like a grease trap, but she picked at it anyway.
“Yuk.” She replaced the cover and set it on the floor. A few seconds of digging in her coat pockets produced a mashed Snickers bar from her emergency stash. The wrapper was limp and faded, but it tasted like manna from heaven.
A smile slowly spread across her face as she leaned back, closed her eyes and munched on the peanuts and nougat. Her reverie was soon broken by Johansen.
“Wish we could get a handle on where they’re headed.” Jay was noisily opening and closing the folds of a road map of the United States as he tried to work it around to the middle third of the country. “Let’s see...they left California heading east, then turned south off I-80 onto US-93...Either headed toward Las Vegas, or going east to who knows where.”
“My guess would be to a more target-rich environment.”
“But where? Salt Lake City or Denver would be the most likely big cities.”
“Unless they’re willing to go further...like, say Kansas City or Oklahoma City.”
“Hitting a city in the heart of the country might actually bring more attention to the event...What am I saying? Setting off a nuclear device in any city would bring enough publicity to last a lifetime.”
“Guess we’ll have to expand the target area east and south...Could be looking at Dallas, Houston, St. Louis or even Chicago. Depends on how much longer they hide and how much support they have.”
“True,” she noted. “Every stop they make exposes them to discovery, but, we’re not dealing with amateurs. They’ve managed to elude capture by not making stupid mistakes. My guess is they have escape vehicles stashed somewhere, along with supplies.”
“Wish we’d caught them in Seawind Bay...Thought for sure they’d use the trawlers.”
“They were for smuggling, Jay...Think they knew all along that escape by sea with the nukes was a bad idea. Boats are too slow and easy to spot. Plus, setting off a nuke in the middle of the ocean wouldn’t have much of an impact.”
“And they couldn’t fly out either...Way too easy to track them.”
“Agreed...Besides, I’m not convinced they plan on escaping from the West Coast.”
“Then from where?”
“Maybe a Gulf Coast port, or into Mexico...Although, Mexico might seem a little too lawless to them, what with drug cartels and everything.”
“What about further east?”
“Heavier the population, the more likely they are to be spotted. Suppose they could head for one of the Great Lakes ports, or even Canada.”
“So, what you’re saying is, we don’t have a clue...”
“At first glance...But the longer they’re out there, the better their odds are.” She leaned back in her seat again, closed her eyes and mumbled, “You just never know...”
COMMUNICATIONS CENTER
PETERSON AFB, COLORADO
Bart sat at a console in a secure telephone room while a technician got the Director of the NSA on the line, after a series of clicks and buzzes. His boss’s voice had an alien sound to it from the secure encryption process.
“Bart, you alone?”
“Yes, sir, like you wanted.”
“Good. I should start out by explaining the secrecy of the call. I didn’t want it to go through my office or home phone lines...Don’t trust them anymore...Think they may be monitored.”
“Who’d be bold enough to tap your phones?”
“Can’t say.”
“Or won’t...Anything I can do?”
“Actually, it’s the other way around...Called to give you a heads-up on a possible threat...I was told someone has put out a kill order on you...”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack...No specifics, but my source is Level 5. The person responsible is quite capable of carrying through with the threat. His organization is a shadowy group with contacts around the world.. If I were you, I’d take the threat seriously.”
“I intend to...‘though not quite sure what can be done, other than keepin’ my head on a swivel. For a start, I’ll travel in the back of one of the armored Suburbans with blacked-out windows. Plus, I’ll stay on base or in the Mountain as soon as it’s available. I can also move Eagle One around to throw any hitmen off...Can’t believe I’m usin’ the word hitmen after all these years out of the business.” He chuckled. “Thought I left it behind.”
“It’s the nature of the beast. All of those are good ideas...Should reduce your exposure and let you see anything coming. I’ll assign personal security to you and Nora, if you’d like...”
“Threat’s directed at her, too?”
“As I said...No specifics...only a warning. But, it’s safe to assume your wife would need the same umbrella of protection, since she’s with you most of the time.”
“As well as the rest of the BSOG.”
“Of course...to a lesser degree. Anyway, with all that in mind, I’m sending Bob Onkst out with a handpicked team to watch your back twenty-four-seven...Should be there tomorrow.”
“Thanks. How’s Brian doin’?”
“They used some very powerful psychotropic drugs on him. I put Jim Carver in charge of the team trying to undo the damage...Best doctor I know, and my personal physician...but it’s too early to tell.”
“Appreciate whatever you can do,” Bart replied with a hitch in his voice. “Nora and I went through hell when we thought he was gone...Just hopin’ and prayin’ he’ll be okay.”
“As am I...Hate to run, but I have the daily security briefing in five minutes.”
“Well, thanks for the warnin’ and the update.”
Bart hung up the phone and stared at the desk for awhile before signing out of the comm center.
GOLD MINER RV PARK
ELY, NEVADA
“I am getting very tired of your contradictions, Mister-I-Am-Boss-Man. You have said to me before is bad idea to stop for very long...So, why are we here?” Gregori posed the question to Rick as they stood face-to-face in the poth
ole-ridden parking lot of a tired old casino.
“Gregori, my Tvarich, we are here to be sure we are remembered by owners of RV park.”
“This makes no sense to me...Why is it you want them to remember us?”
“Because, my old friend, we will leave many clues that say our destination is Las Vegas...we will be far from there.”
“I am no dummy,” Gregori replied. “I understand misdirection, but will that not point them to us? They will know what our vehicles look like.”
“True, if we were still in them. It will take very long to discover vehicles we have now...Long after we hide them in mountain canyon.”
“I am starting to remember way you think, Yuri. You have other vehicles, yes?”
“And different clothes...All in a building rented many months ago on other side of this town.”
“So, you have done much work...”
“Not entirely on my own...I had much help from friends in Consortium...They lease building to me using name of company once in copper mining industry. Our mutual friends also found vehicles for next part of plan.”
“And that would be?”
“I was not going to divulge that, but since you accept Consortium’s orders so well, I will...”
Gregori stood taller and leaned in, “I will tell you this one time and will never be said again...I am not happy with order Commission has given to name you Bacc. I, myself, have been boss of smuggling operation for many years and do not take orders well. Still, I have known you for almost all my life and trust you, Tvarich. I will do as told...but only because is you...Anybody else would be dead.”
“And I will tell you, I would have honored orders of Commission if they name you Bacc instead of me...After all, what is in a name? I think we both will be in charge of operation...I could not work without your help...We will share duties, money and glory.”
“You say these things to put me at ease...”
“No, Tvarich...You are one of few men I trust with my very life...My respect for you is immense...So, I think maybe we should not tell men about conversation with Commission. They should continue to think you are boss, no?”
They embraced each other in a bear hug and stepped back.
Gregori spoke first, “What shall we do next?”
Rick smiled.
OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR, NSA
FORT MEADE, MD
“I am going to lunch now, sir.” Justin Todd keyed the intercom.
There was a pause before the Director answered, “Does that mean we won’t be playing chess today?”
“I told you earlier this morning of my need to go by the bakery and pick up the cake for Bradford’s going away party at one o’clock. You did read the daily schedule I left on your desk, did you not?”
“Yes, of course I did...Must have forgotten about the cake. Where did that come from, anyway?”
“Historians are divided on the source, sir. Ancient Romans celebrated birthdays with single-layer round cakes to honor Artemis, Goddess of the moon. The candle was a symbol of moonlight. In the Middle Ages, Germans made multi-layered cakes that were sweet. They added icing and decorations in the seventeenth century. Making a wish and blowing out the candles was introduced shortly thereafter...or, so the myth goes.”
“Well, then, guess we shouldn’t interfere with a tradition like that.”
“No, sir. I have ordered your usual fare from the executive dining room. I will bring it in before I go.”
“Thank you...Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I do my best, sir.”
The Director’s lunch arrived a few minutes later and he carried the tray into the inner office, but not before discretely adding a few drops of liquid from a small bottle he kept in his pocket.
SHOPPING CENTER PARKING LOT
Justin pulled into a parking spot fifteen minutes later and quickly dialed the satellite phone. The location was a dead spot for surveillance by even the NSA’s powerful Cray super computers.
The voice at the other end resumed the conversation as if they had simply been interrupted. “How is the adulteration of his food going?”
“Quite well...I was able to add drugs to his food for the third day in a row and have noticed an effect on his short-term memory. He also canceled a tour of the new video conference suite today, with the complaint that his legs and back were bothering him.”
“Excellent. Symptoms will gradually increase until he is bedridden for about a week. The lack of dosage during that period will allow him to recover.”
“That will put Melvin Hawkins in charge...One of the most incompetent bureaucrats I have ever known,” Justin noted. “If not for his family’s connections, he would probably be sweeping floors in the building.”
“True, and we will use that to our advantage. We have control of him, thanks to his indiscretions with a young woman his daughter’s age. The only concern we have is that he might actually try to direct the agency and bungle it. Therefore, we need you to keep a close eye on him.”
“That should not be a problem. The last time he was in charge I answered his incessant questions about how the Agency runs and even suggested actions that he invariably took...taking credit for himself, of course. I actually ran the office during his tenure. That, however, was only three days and now the Director will be out for at least a week...Let’s hope nothing of a critical nature occurs. Will one week be enough time to execute your plan?”
“Not entirely...The Commission would like him to be away from his office longer. I thought you might be able to visit him at home to give him more drugs.”
“I can offer to play chess with him when the drugs begin to wear off, which should offer ample opportunity to apply more to his food or drink.”
“Good. I need to go now. I transferred funds to the large city, as well as a bonus to your Caribbean friend.”
“I noted the deposits. If there is nothing else, I should return to my office.”
“There is one more thing...We are picking up chatter about an internal investigation in the agency. Have you heard anything?”
“No, but then I seldom engage in office gossip...”
“Perhaps you should...The fact that others have not mentioned it may mean you are under suspicion...They may have been cautioned about alerting you.”
“I am not paranoid enough to worry about what minor staff personnel are speculating.”
There was an extended pause. “Look, you’re the one who’s affected...I’m simply trying to forewarn you. Just be sure to eliminate any paper trail.”
“I always do and your concern is appreciated. But, as I said, I must return to the office.”
“I’ll expect your status call tomorrow.”
***
CHAPTER 3
DISTINGUISHED VISITORS QUARTERS
PETERSON AFB, COLORADO
Bart sat in a brown-leather overstuffed chair and stared out at the Rocky Mountains. A slight blue haze created the effect of snow-covered ghost peaks with the setting sun backlighting the scene with a persimmon-tinted glow. Another day was sliding away as he thought about their son. The BSOG thwarted the kidnapping of Nora and prevented the destruction of the secure CIA facility at Lake Tahoe. Brian was the only survivor of two enemy teams. It was his comment to Nora as they tried to question him that gave away his true identity when he called her “Mom.”
Bart took a sip of bourbon.
“Are you okay, honey?” Nora finished removing her makeup and stepped out of the bathroom with a towel in one hand and a vodka salty dog in the other.
“Gatherin’ my thoughts.”
She was hesitant to ask him if they were about their son, but figured they needed to broach the subject. “Wondering if Chance could actually be Brian?”
“Exactly...Not quite sure how to handle it.”
“I didn’t sleep much last night...Lay there wondering if it’s some elaborate ploy.”
“DNA tests say it’s Brian...Guess we’ll know more after
he’s deprogrammed.”
She had no reply and cringed at the thought of never again having the special bond she once shared with their only child. “So, how do you think it went today?”
“Not happy with the delay in moving people out of our building...Could’ve been done a lot faster.”
“They just found out about moving...”
“A week ago...and it’s not even the whole buildin’...Just half of the last building in the complex.”
“You know how territorial some government agencies can be.”
“But they’re part of some obscure little department that prob’bly exists only because it was created during the Cold War and nobody has the guts to abolish it.”
“I know.”
“And you know I couldn’t get through this without you...wouldn’t want to even try.”
She didn’t know if he meant the move to Colorado or the situation with Brian and it didn’t matter. She snuggled her face into his chest hair and inhaled his masculine scent.
He pulled her face up to him after a while and kissed her, gently at first, and then with more intensity. He reached over and closed the blinds. Clothes were discarded and worries of the day left behind.
Afterward, Bart sat up against the headboard and held her while he gently stroked her hair.
VISITING AIRMENS QUARTERS
PETERSON AFB, COLORADO
Jake rapped on the door of Room 214 and Joanna answered with gym bag in hand. “Ready for a good workout?”
“You betcha...So tight from sitting all day I could scream.”
“Roger that, pretty lady...Let’s go loosen up.”
They strolled down the hall swinging the bags in unison. A figure dressed in a khaki maintenance uniform waited until they headed down the stairs at the other end of the building and moved toward Room 214 after he confirmed they had left the building.
Jake found a parking spot near the base gym. Joanna sat still and put her hand on his before he could release his seat belt. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind?”
“Little things I don’t want to talk about in a noisy gym.”
“Okay, wanna go someplace else?”
“No, this is fine...In fact, it’s kind of nice...Just the two of us, for a change.”
