by Frank Perry
and well.”
Hunter lowered his head in relief then looked back at John without speaking.
John continued. “I want to give you an explanation. You deserve it. But first, I need to go through some formalities so we can throw your ass in jail if you disclose any of what I’m telling you.”
“What formalities?”
“How about swearing in as a Special Agent of the Secret Service?”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely. You will continue doing whatever you need to do for the state, but you would also report to me. When the time comes, when we both agree it’s the right time, you can be a full-time agent or resign. But for now, I need you on my team.”
Hunter had only a vague notion of where this was going. “I’ll agree.”
John called a couple people into his office. One had some paperwork and a seal. The other person was a witness. Hunter was given an oath to recite and asked to sign several documents. When it was all over, and they took his picture standing in front of the flag, John said, “There’s an official ID that goes with this, but I’ll be keeping it here in my office. You won’t have anything that will identify you.”
Hunter sat again, looking at John. “Okay, I guess I’m official now.”
“Yep, you’re one of us. When this is over, if you want to stay with the Service, you’ll need to go through some training programs, but I’ll defer it for now. We’re in the middle of an op, and your prior training is good enough.”
“So what about my ladies?”
“We have Claire and your fiancée at safe houses with constant guards on duty. No one knows where they are except a couple of us in the Service.”
“How about me?”
“Not now, maybe once things settle down.”
Hunter nodded, “You mean with Peña?”
“Yeah. He’s on the rampage now, which is why I gathered up the innocents.”
“John, I had you figured all wrong.”
“Good. That’s the way it needs to be. For now, I’m just the State Investigator with questionable loyalties. It’s important that we continue to relate this way.”
Hunter asked, “How about the FBI, do they know about you?”
“They know. But it’s important that you continue to play in our little charade. I don’t want them to know about your involvement in the op.”
They talked for another hour about strategy and tactics. Basically, the USSS began an investigation of corruption in Congress and ultimately started investigating Senator Jenson. Some of his financial metrics showed enormous financial wealth and campaign contributions that didn’t “fit” any rational model. This led them to Peña. The investigation had gone on for three years, and John spent most of his time in Sacramento. His Washington office was referred to as his shrine, although most of the Service’s staff was deployed at any given time. He really was divorced but didn’t have any children in college, as Claire believed.
Hunter asked a burning question. “What happened to José?”
John was reluctant to answer. “Hunter, this isn’t easy. José was at the center of the Jenson investigation. He basically introduced the Senator to Peña after determining that Jenson was of low moral character, shall we say.”
Hunter hesitated. “Was José corrupt?”
John waited a moment then looked directly at Hunter. “As bad as they get. He played a fool’s game. Peña keeps a lot of officials on his payroll at various levels. José had some kind of distant family relationship to the Peña’s and got close to Luciano after he got involved with the state. I guess Peña figured he’d be worth something someday. Kind of a sleeper. Anyway, José got greedy. Having kids sometimes causes financial distress, particularly when your wife takes off to raise them for a while.
“Anyway, we think José threatened Peña about starting this legalization process if he didn’t get paid off. The payoff came in the wrong form. José just didn’t know what he was dealing with.”
Hunter pursed his lips but didn’t ask the next question, which John answered anyway. “Claire didn’t know any of this. She’s completely clean.”
Hunter exhaled, “Thank God.” Then he asked, “John, I need to know about my cousin, Sue Ann?”
“Sorry, Hunter. We don’t know for sure. She was a promiscuous girl who got suckered by Peña’s wealth, and couldn’t handle it once she was in deep. He doesn’t have any past girlfriends, they all disappeared. Sorry, Hunter, we didn’t know he would hurt her.”
Hunter was determined, now that he had some answers. “John, how do we get this guy? I wanna bring him down.”
John nodded. “Hunter, I know what you mean. It’s against policy to let you work on the case. I can only get you involved to the extent that you’re already in it.”
“That’s neck deep, John.”
“I don’t need to tell you to be careful, Hunter.”
“I know. Two guys already tried to jump me.”
“Yeah. We know. They were part of a small group of ex-cons and SpecOps types that work as assassins for the highest bidders. Peña uses these guys for recon and killings. They all address each other by numbers rather than names.”
“You know about them?”
“We’ve got a lot of taps going. That’s how we get most of our intel from Jenson. Peña is more careful, but we still get some of it. The guys you met were both lifer’s from Folsom out on parole.”
“I think I killed them, John.”
John nodded. “Yep, you killed both of them. We fished them out and buried them as John Does. They won’t bother you again.”
“I didn’t have a choice, John.”
“We’re not asking, Hunter. Just try to keep the body count manageable.”
“You think there’ll be more?”
“I think it’s unavoidable, Hunter. These aren’t the kind of cases that make it to court. We’ll gather all the facts we can and try to build a case, but the bottom line is that these guys working in the drug culture live in a single dimension dominated by violence. They strike out when problems occur and kill each other. We call it a war, but these aren’t warriors, they’re just dumb killers. They can’t plan strategies or tactics, as we think about them. They just pick up a gun and shoot someone. They never think about repercussions. They’re predictable, and I predict that it will all end bloody.”
They worked out some further details, mainly dealing with communication channels before Hunter was driven back to his apartment. It would be a few weeks before he saw Laura and Claire again, but they were safe. They were also being briefed on some parts of the USSS operation. For now, they were only told that Hunter knew they were safe. They were not told that he was on the team.
Hunter had mixed emotions. He knew his family was safe, at least after Sue Ann. Basically, the Secret Service was telling him to wait and see what happened -- which he couldn’t do. Peña would come after him. He knew more about the case after talking to the FBI and John. He didn’t have any specific instructions, so could do anything natural to him. He had to take this directly at Peña and not sit waiting for some sniper to lay him out. He had an idea to stir the pot, even if the Feds couldn’t move. The escorts circled the block before letting him off at his apartment.
In California, Peña was madder than ever. Number One reported that Kohl’s girlfriend was gone, and Ramon reported the same about Claire. Kohl must be playing games, games that he couldn’t win. Did he really think he could hide his treasures while he played cowboy. Kohl had to die.
Offense
He was tired. Days of odd schedules, overnight flights and sleepless nights wore him to the edge. He could hardly think clearly. It was like SEAL “Hell Week” -- almost. He needed to rest, but he couldn’t risk staying in his apartment, or even being followed to a hotel. His best option was another flight to California. This time, he drove to Dulles, mostly to shake off anyone following, and more flights wer
e available. He would fly to Sacramento for his equipment first. If they found him there, at least he would have his weapons.
The Dulles extension was nearly void of cars, as he drove the final six miles to the airport above the speed limit. No one followed him. He parked in the long-term lot, taking the shuttle to the main terminal, and looked at the master display for flights to Sacramento. He went directly to the Jet Blue counter and bought a standby ticket on the next direct flight. It wasn’t going to be as quiet as an overnight flight, but right now he could sleep anywhere. The flight was originally booked full, but only two-thirds of the passengers showed up. He was able to secure a window exit-row seat for twenty-five more dollars. Once aboard, he asked for a pillow and blanket, surprised that they actually had at least one of each available. As soon as the wheels were up, he was asleep. He had no idea when the plane was scheduled to land, nor did he care. He slept for six hours.
California was forecast to have its first fall rainstorm with a low-pressure cell moving down from the Pacific Northwest. He closed the window shade and let the drone of the engines settle in as white noise, soothing and masking other sounds inside the plane. He slept soundly. Knowing that Claire and Laura were safe made the difference. On final approach, he stretched and felt more relaxed than he had for days.
After landing, he rented an AVIS car and drove immediately to Claire’s house. This time, he parked in her garage while getting his gear. He then drove on to Sue
