A Viable Threat (A Martin Billings Story Book 4)

by Ed Teja

  “So, now what?”

  “We need to determine, for certain, who was running this operation.”

  “Since you have Hank, it would be great sport to beat that out of him.”

  She smiled at the idea. “That would get us a name and the say so of a traitor. I'd like to find something that will hold up in a court of law. Bringing down a big fish is tricky. Hank will get his just reward, but for this big fish, I need your help.”

  “What can I do?”

  “I want you to watch me conduct an interview. You have specialized knowledge that might help me find out if certain people accidentally tell us anything they shouldn't know yet or if their reactions to the briefing send off any alarms.”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “The mission didn't exist, and we know there are a limited number of people who could possibly know anything at all happened. That gives us some scope.”

  “And you'll bring in the people he was in touch with?”

  “With you watching through the one-way mirror, to give me feedback.”

  “What kind of feedback?”

  “Tics, inappropriate reactions—”

  “How will I know what's appropriate? People have such a wide range of ways they respond to things.”

  “Experience is the best reference.”

  “Experience? All I was taught about interrogation is that it is bad form to have the person die before you find out what you want to know.”

  She folded her hands. “In this case, you have an inside track. My prime suspect and first interview is with Senator Polly Jeffries.”

  34

  “Do you really think you can get Polly to come here for a chat?”

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “Normally, if you were going to brief her on something like that, wouldn't you go to her?”

  “Normally I wouldn't give her the time of day. She has no idea who I am.” She shook her head, scowling. “But then, that is part of the reason she'll be here soon.”

  “She's on her way?”

  Hodges gave me a wink. “She fancies herself a player. I leaned into her need to be an insider. I teased her with the truth. I sent a message saying that we had concerns about the possibility of an important security breach that may have taken place in the Caribbean. I explained that, as a senior member of the intelligence committee, I assumed she'd want to be briefed on these... events.”

  “You will brief her, give her details on what went on even though she has a minor, teeny weeny conflict of interest? I mean, even with this simplified story, the sailor's commander is her husband.”

  Hodges paused. “I'll explain that this briefing is necessary precisely because she might have a conflict of interest. I need, among other things, to determine if that is the case. Besides, I'll only give her facts she will already know. I'll explain that a US sailor stationed on Exuma shot and killed one of our agents, who was on vacation. Unfortunately, he got himself killed too, and that we are investigating the circumstances to see if there was more going on than meets the eye.”

  “When you lay out more detail, she'll blame it all on me, not Hank.”

  She shook her head. “The mission didn't happen, remember? According to immigration records, you are still on St. Anne. There isn't any official reason for the senator to think you have any involvement in something like this. Your name wasn't even linked to Amy's in any way before you met her with Hank.”

  “Fair enough. And so if she mentions my involvement—”

  “That will be proof enough that she had information that could only be acquired one way. But I don't expect her to slip up that big. She's been on the public stage for a time now and hasn't put a foot wrong. She's a big gun in the law-and-order campaigns and well regarded.”

  “Then what am I looking for?”

  “I'll try different tacks. You watch for something wrong. Something out of place in her manner or words that I can pursue. You'll have a microphone and I'll have an earpiece. Help me. Feed me ideas about questions to ask so she incriminates herself. You know her. Use that.”

  “I knew her once upon a time.”

  “She's not a totally different person now. Even if she appears to have changed, she won't be fundamentally different. Trust your instincts.”

  “That's a scary thought.”

  “Watch her reaction when I hit key points and let me know if you think her responses are honest.”

  “I can do that. I can give it my best shot.” Sailors learn to trust local knowledge more than charts. Hodges was smart, asking for local knowledge to provide information that general psychology wouldn't do give her. “You said there were a couple of people, but you haven't mentioned any others.”

  “They are also-rans. If I'm wrong about the senator, we will check them out.” She tapped the stack of documents. “I have substantial, but circumstantial evidence that makes me want to start with her.”

  “You think it's her?”

  “I know Hank Jeffries is supposed to be a leader of men, but I don't see him as that ambitious or daring. I don't think it would occur to him to trade a rather mediocre but successful military career for a future in the drug trade. Worse, I don't rate him as capable of planning something like this or having the connections to get the information he had.”

  “Amy questioned that too.”

  “I see the senator as the only person in the mix who is connected to the intelligence, enough of a gambler to take a big risk, and able to get him to willingly participate in such a scheme. So, I'm sorry, but I am pretty certain that she is behind it.”

  My stomach tightened again. “Part of our breakup was because of her ambition. She can be ruthless. I never thought it would go that far—”

  Hodges poked at the stack of documents. “It will be hard to prove. Unfortunately, their being married gives them a lot of cover. She won't have trouble coming up with innocuous explanations for much of these communications.”

  “So you don't have anything solid.”

  “No. She, or whoever it is, has been careful. And with her political influence and good name we can't afford any unfounded accusations of missteps.”

  “Polly would eat your agency alive.”

  “We have enough trouble keeping a budget as it is. Senator Jeffries proves very reluctant to fund organizations like mine under the best of circumstances.”

  “Organizations that don't exist?”

  “Those that don't have one of her people involved as a liaison.”

  “A spy?”

  “Perhaps. Again, someone monitoring an agency's use of public funds is a difficult thing to point to as sinister.”

  “So, she's very good.”

  Hodges leveled that gaze again. “The question, Marty, is if you are good with the idea of helping me. Are you up to helping me prove that your ex-wife is a criminal, possibly a traitor?”

  I tried to think of Polly, to ask my gut if that was even possible. Instead, the image of Amy slumped in the car seat turning pale as she bled out, insisting I finish the mission, popped into my head.

  “I'm in.”

  “You have to be sure.”

  “If she's involved, then she is responsible for Amy's death. So, damn right I am.”

  She raised her arm and glanced at an incredibly complicated watch.

  “Nice timepiece. Did Q give you that watch? Does it have a satellite link?”

  Her face turned hard. Something I'd said had gotten to her. After a moment, she shook her head. “It was a birthday present from a friend.”

  “Sorry.”

  “The senator will be here in five. We need to set you up.” She made a sour face. “Let's get you in the room with a view and make sure the communications are working properly.”

  “She's coming now?”

  “Did you have some place you needed to be?”

  I braced myself. “No. Let's get this over with.”

  Someth
ing was off as she led me out in the green hallways and through another door identical to every other door in the damn place. Slow as I sometimes am on picking up cues, it was only after she seated me in a nicer chair in a silent room and I stared through a one-way mirror into an empty interview room that looked like all the others, did the reason for Hodges' reaction sink through my thick head. The dear friend who had given her the watch had been a woman. A woman named Amy Pfeifer. Amy, who wanted me to trust Hodges.

  They'd been close.

  “Shit,” I told the room. Okay, that meant Hodges and I both had serious skin in this game. We shared a personal stake in seeing it through. The difference between us was that Hodges was doing a better job of pressing ahead and finishing the mission than I was. She was ready to take on the powerhouse that was a US senator with senior standing. We'd suffered a loss, but unlike me, Hodges had plenty of fight left in her—enough for both of us.

  I cursed myself for sinking into apathy and self pity. If Hodges was going to risk her career to follow Amy’s lead—and that would be the least of the consequences if she didn’t pull this off—then I wanted to do my part.

  Someone had done a nice job of choosing the view. I could see the entire small conference room. I could see the face and body of the person being interviewed clearly. Two monitors mounted on the table showed the room from different angles. One revealed what a person did with her hands when they were out of sight from the interrogator. I'd easily be able to see clenched fists or nervous twitches.

  I settled in and, as I sat back, the door on the other side of the conference room opened. Polly walked in, looked around, and tossed her head. She wore a dark-blue pinstriped business suit. Naturally, her desire to dress for success had flourished in her new role. It was something we'd butted heads about for years.

  It worked, too. With her elegant features and perfect posture, she looked regal. She walked in, turned, and stared straight at me.

  I was certain the air had all been sucked out of the room.

  35

  There is a huge, monstrous difference between knowing you are about to see someone you haven't seen in a long time, someone who was important to you at one point in your life, and the reality that comes when they re-enter your life, or at least your space.

  The woman who walked into that room was definitely Polly. She looked slightly older, but still attractive. The elegant, upmarket style aged well. There was more confidence in her bearing than I remembered. The way she walked into that room, projecting herself as a person to be reckoned with, a powerful force, wasn't faked. She'd learned to wear the mantle of an elected official as if the gods had woven it specially for her. Hell, maybe they had. I don't get called into those meetings.

  She smiled an imperious smile at Hodges. She'd gotten her tooth fixed. Perfect Polly had always been embarrassed by a slightly twisted tooth in the top of her mouth. From the first day I met her, she had a trick of twisting her lips to cover it and she often talked about her desire to get it fixed.

  I'd loved that tooth. It was a single imperfection in an otherwise flawless face, but I couldn't convince her of the Japanese sensibility. She'd gotten the work done, but the little twist in her lip to cover a non-existent flaw was still there, if superfluous.

  Nothing about her manner fazed Hodges in the least. Of course, Amy's boss wasn't exactly the shy, retiring, easily intimidated type either. So, when Polly gave her the glare you give servants who've pointed out you have to do something unpleasant, Hodges flashed her the ever popular, 'I hope torture won't actually be necessary' smile.

  The frost chilling the air as they sat facing each other came right through the glass as if it wasn't there. They didn't know each other, but there was no love lost between them. They were on opposite sides of more tables than just the one in the room. Although our politicians and agents theoretically had the same agenda (keeping the country safe, tra la la), there wasn't much respect between the two species. Neither appreciated the tactics, strategies, or ethics of the other much—if at all.

  The table that actually sat between them was bare except for an open laptop facing toward Hodges and another of those old school manila folders that Hodges seemed to enjoy. This one was stuffed with enough documents to suggest it held the complete knowledge of the universe.

  It was a prop. Hodges wanted Polly to know she'd done her research—not that she needed the computer or the folder to refer to.

  Polly ignored the props and sat up straight. “All right, I'm here. Perhaps now you can tell me why you had to bring me to wherever this is. In fact, you can start with who you are, who you work for, and how dare you bring me here blindfolded?”

  They'd brought her blindfolded! Nice touch, Hodges.

  “You were brought here for security reasons,” Hodges said.

  “My office is secure. There are secure phone lines.”

  Hodges patted the folder. “I asked you to come here for a briefing on a problem that suggests the security in your office has been breached. As to who I am and who I work for, my name is Hodges, and I am the person with the information you need to know. I work for the American people. And I dare to have you, or anyone else blindfolded for the trip here because—again, security.”

  “I have a top-secret—”

  “I'm well aware of your clearance level, Senator. I brought you here because of your importance in the intelligence community and your clearance, not in spite of it. We are going to talk about the possibility of a serious security breach. My people discovered it, and as it involves other agencies, I have no intention of discussing it in a location that might be compromised.”

  Hodges was taking the 'I'm the bad cop, there is no good cop,' tactic, but Polly wasn't having it. “If this is a matter of national security, then I'll have to discuss it with my committee before any action can be taken. You'll need to forward everything to my office.”

  Hodges nodded. “That's normal protocol, but in this case, the decision might not be made by your committee. I'm fairly certain you won't want it to be.”

  “That's ludicrous. The rules are—”

  “Irrelevant.”

  Hodges allowed herself a grin at the surprise on Polly's face. “Senator, the nature of the game we both play involves a changing field and moving goalposts. In this case, I brought you, specifically you, here for a briefing. You agreed to come. Now you are demanding explanations I'm not prepared to give. If that prevents you from hearing what I have to say, then I'll have my team return you to your office and find another way to deal with the situation.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “That's exactly why you are here, so you can understand. If you listen, when I finish you can ask questions.” She cocked her head. “You've come all this way—you might as well listen.”

  “This is completely irregular.”

  “I agree. In fact, that is an understatement. The situation is far beyond irregular,” Hodges said, folding her hands the way she did when she was concentrating her mojo. “It's actually pretty fucked up, and there are indications that you might have some involvement.”

  That rattled Polly briefly. Under the table, her hands clasped each other. “What the hell are you accusing me of—”

  I didn't need to mention to Hodges that Polly had shifted to defense. That was clear enough, and natural for anyone to feel that way. “She is nervous,” I offered.

  “I've made no accusations, just an observation. You know as well as anyone that a person can be involved in things that have nothing directly to do with them. Nonetheless, you are involved. That's why I contacted you directly. That's why you are dealing with me and not the usual intelligence people.” She grinned. “The truth is, dealing with this properly will require more than the usual intelligence.”

  Polly let out a breath. “As you said, I'm here, and you have my attention. What am I involved with and how?”

  “The how is the easiest and clearest. You are involved through
your husband, Admiral Jeffries.”

  “Hank? Absurd. He is an admiral.”

  “Who might have gone rogue.”

  “Nonsense.”

  Hodges tapped her ominous folder. “There is clear evidence that he has taken money from the drug cartels he is supposed to be tracking down and stopping.”

  “Nonsense. He is returning to DC and retiring. He was offered a lucrative job with a think tank.”

  I whispered in Hodges' ear. “That's probably true, but Polly would see that as him being sidelined, and it would reduce her influence.”

  Polly put on her indignant face. “The idea that Hank would risk his reputation and engage in a criminal activity is absurd.”

  Hodges turned to her computer, tapped on a few keys, then turned it so it faced Polly. “The bank records of the criminal organization we have... infiltrated show that they made regular payments to an account that belongs to your husband. Another clue to his involvement is that his men committed murder to prevent us from getting that information.”

  “Nonsense. Where do you get this drivel?”

  “One of my agents took part. She was looking into some anomalies, some irregularities in things in that area. That's when the admiral presented the story that your life was in danger.”

  “My life? How?”

  “That's unimportant. What matters is that the mission went wrong, and my agent was killed, but not before she managed to get detailed computer records to me.”

  Brilliantly vague, Hodges.

  Polly's face tightened. “This all seems absurd—unbelievable.”

  Hodges nodded. “I can lay out the facts I know out for you. I can't talk about his motives, not yet at least, but I know that he fabricated a story of a military buildup on a private island in The Bahamas. It was a complex and sophisticated presentation that convinced my agent that there was a viable, imminent threat to your life.”

  “My security people haven't said a word about anything like that.”

  “His intentions are murky, your husband produced bogus intelligence, including surveillance photos that substantiated the ability to carry out this threat.”