One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1)

by J Russ Briley

  “Of course, but Agent Carey has everything...” Phil started.

  “Can you do it? Yes, or no?” Robert was demanding and short. His mind was too full of problems to beat around the bush.

  “Yes...Agent Carey, do you have everything you need?” Phil answered hesitantly. This kind of thing was really the Secret Service’s turf, and he knew they’d prefer to keep it that way.

  “Yes.” Carey was strictly business.

  Robert took over the conversation again. “My rendezvous is at the tourist kiosk by the Washington Monument at 8:30. Which of you can cover that best?”

  “I can.” Agent Carey said. “My partner is still here from the early shift.”

  “Excellent.” Phil sounded relieved. “We don’t have much time. I’d better go get the lab set up.”

  Carey spoke next. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. I’ll send over the frequencies, and I’ll need to get under your shirt and belt Mr. Carlton.”

  “I’ll be ready.” Robert acknowledged as he hung up the phone. Robert watched as the agent left his office. He would be back in moments with at least one radio microphone ‘wire’, and probably two. An engineer would be waiting to listen in on a remote receiver. Carey and his partner would have earphones, and possibly more agents listening in. Phil, on the other hand, would be rushing downstairs to the “lab.” It was a euphemistic term for a sophisticated listening and decoding system in the Treasury Building. From there everything could be monitored.

  Agent Carey was back in seven minutes with two systems.

  “We’ll use a redundant set on you to insure transmission. We have more sophisticated equipment, like bone mikes, that we prefer to use indoors these days,” he explained while he worked “but in these outdoor situations, we get a better signal and recording this way. Also, the receiving dishes for the other choices could be visible if there’s not much cover, which there won’t be in that location. These are the on/off switches.” He pointed to the tops of the two transmitters. In moments, Robert had two microphones and transmitters attached to him with lots of tape. He felt like a Christmas tree with lights strung around it, but somehow better and safer.

  “How many people are you expecting, and do you have an expectation of violence?” Carey inquired, still checking his equipment.

  “I don’t know how many may be in the background, but I suspect I’ll only be meeting with one. Violence is a possibility, but unlikely.” Robert figured that if Hunt was behind any of this, and wanted to hurt him, he’d never have made it to work in one piece.

  “Yes, Sir.” Carey was checking the signal and volume from Robert’s microphones. “Sir, it will take you under twenty minutes to get there on foot from here; that may be faster than getting to the car. I suggest we get started.”

  Lorraine was clearly bewildered as Robert and Agent Carey swept past her desk. She seemed uncharacteristically upset by the activity. “Mr. Carlton, I...” she began.

  “Not now, Lorraine.” Robert and Carey pressed on down the hall. Carey’s partner joined them at the top of the stairs. After quick introductions while walking, they parted, using different exits.

  Robert set a terrific pace. Carey was right, there was no point in using a car. Looking for a parking spot this time of day was out of the question. The only places possible would be to illegally park in one of the mall turnouts. Plus traffic and lights on the way were unpredictable. They could slow him down.

  Robert wondered about Hunt’s choice of location for their meeting. Just a few days before he’d met with Chris not far from the same spot. He looked around the area as he headed toward the kiosk. Both sides of the street were rimmed with government buildings, including the Smithsonian Institute. Even in cold weather a few tourists could be seen snapping pictures. The Washington Monument opened at nine, and a line was already forming.

  Robert was not feeling the cold anymore. The brisk walk was making him sweat under his overcoat. As he covered the distance he lost his footing on the slippery sidewalk, skating once or twice over the ice.

  He heard a tourist ask another why they called this area “The Mall.” Robert was thinking he could have told them. “Mall” was defined as a “pedestrian promenade.” Maybe that was why Hunt had chosen this location. Lots of people were milling around, despite the weather.

  Robert knew he was flooded with adrenaline, and tried to pull his thoughts back to Hunt. Hunt, he realized, had given him little time to get to this meeting. Hunt probably assumed that Robert wouldn’t have the resources at hand to set up surveillance on such short notice. Robert was betting that his quick action gave him the upper hand.

  It was three minutes after eight-thirty when Robert arrived at the stone building kiosk. The barren surroundings offered little weather protection. The wind whistled past in repeated gusts. Between the wind and Robert’s own panting breaths, he had trouble hearing anything around him except the traffic. He stayed away from the protection of the building. It would obstruct his view and that of the two agents.

  Robert was looking for the stocky man in his late fifties that he’d met at The White House. He scanned silver-haired passersby. Casually strolling down the hill from the Washington Monument, with a dark hat hiding his silver hair and an overcoat streamlining his frame, Hunt was at his side before Robert recognized him.

  “Hello, Mr. Carlton.” Hunt sounded almost cheerful.

  “Hunt, what’s this all about?” Robert cut to the chase, angry with the man for his comfortable greeting.

  Hunt seemed to ignore Robert as he held up his hand. In it was a digital camera with a picture of the Washington Monument on it. With a button push it switched images to a picture of a message. It said, “You’re wearing a microphone. Turn it off.” Hunt smiled meaningfully at Robert.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Robert asserted defiantly.

  Hunt grinned. He pressed another button and the display showed a graphic meter. The red bar moved up and down, but stayed high, and red.

  Robert reached under his coat to one of the transmitters. Pulling it forward he said, “All right, I’ll turn it off.” He looked at Hunt who relaxed his arm to a hanging position with the camera by his side. Robert flipped off the switch to the first radio.

  “What do you want, Hunt?” He began. “I got your hint about...”

  Hunt cut him off with an upheld hand. He held up the camera as if to take a picture. The bar was still high and red.

  Robert reached behind his back and turned off the second transmitter. The bar dropped down and the color changed to green.

  “Much better. I’d love to talk with you, but it’s just too damn cold out here, and you don’t have as much time as you thought.” Hunt drawled. “So let me help you out a little. Here’s someone you should talk to.”

  He held up the camera once again. The display read, “NSA – Karlovich.”

  “But you didn’t hear it from me.” Hunt flashed a grin at Robert again.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Robert said irritably. “Why not just tell me what you know?”

  Hunt hit the “delete all” key on the camera, and tucked it away in his pocket. “Mr. Carlton,” he said, shaking his head. “Where would the fun be in that? Besides, I’ll bet a bright lawyer like you would add me to some list, and I don’t cotton to people investigating me. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what you will find out, but I do know that you should talk to that guy. In fact, I think you should go to his office to talk. That would probably get you the best results.”

  Robert looked puzzled and was about to ask a question, but Hunt looked away, and continued, “You’re absolutely right. The best picture would be from the other side on a nice bright day.” He turned away from the monument. In a few dozen steps Hunt was on the curb, and getting into a car that had driven up, unnoticed by Robert. It pulled quickly away. Robert stood silently, the cold breeze chilling him.

  Robert was stunned. Hunt had known every step Robert would make. Fir
st he’d killed the radios. Then he’d said nothing important, nothing implicating, making a lip reader or video valueless. He’d held the camera message so close to Robert that no one else could have read it. Furthermore, instead of an expected threat, Robert had received a lead. So, who was Karlovich? Robert repeated the name in his mind as he walked back toward the office.

  Chapter 31

  Joined by the two Secret Service agents as he neared his office building, Robert told them what had transpired. Agent Carey took notes. Robert withheld the contents of Hunt’s phone message. Carey gave Robert an appraising glance, but being used to handling issues on a “need to know” basis, the agents quickly moved on. Robert learned that they had managed to get a few discrete pictures of Hunt, and his departure vehicle. They planned to run the photos by several agencies to see if there was a match for the man. They already had the origin of the car, which apparently came from an executive limo service. They would track the renter, but they advised Robert that it would not be likely to lead them to anything. In all probability, “Hunt” had rented the limo from a hotel lobby, using cash.

  Carey asked if Robert needed a security detail. Robert had been thinking about that on the walk back. Given Grady’s remarks, and his own reaction to Hunt’s meeting, he admitted that he did. He told Carey that he also required one for his family. It had dawned on him, again, that he had neglected to consider Tracie and the kids after hearing from Grady. He’d rationalized that he wasn’t a target, so she had no idea that they could be in a very dangerous situation.

  Carey left for the building’s security room. The other agent followed Robert to his office, planting himself near Lorraine’s desk. She had lost her cool demeanor and was noticeably nervous. Neither Robert nor the agent provided any information to her. The agent sat on a chair by Robert’s office door, silently watching down the length of the hallway. He left the main door open to obtain the greatest field of view possible. The draft from the hallway chilled the outer office.

  Robert called home, and had Alicia put Tracie on the phone. “Tracie, it’s me. Nothing’s wrong, but I want you...”

  “What’s going on, Robert? Is it the boys? Did the school call?” Tracie’s rapid-fire questions assailed Robert. He never called her in the middle of the day, so he should have known that she would instantly assume there was trouble.

  “I said, ‘nothing’s wrong,’ Tracie. Just wait a moment, and let me tell you what the situation is here.” Robert cleared his throat.

  “Situation?” Tracie began pacing back and forth in the kitchen. Robert could hear her footsteps. Good thing the phone was cordless, he thought. Back in the old days she would have had the cord tied in knots.

  “I’ve asked the security team here to send someone over to stay with you and the kids.” Robert stated, wondering how he’d explain this to her. He knew that whatever he told her, it wouldn’t be enough.

  “What? What’s happened? Are you all right?” She was panicking. Tracie had a tendency to react first, and think later. Calm, levelheaded behavior had never been her strong suit in crisis situations.

  “Calm down, Tracie,” Robert said firmly, hoping to interrupt her building anxiety. “Everything is fine. This is simply a precaution.” He knew that wouldn’t fly, and paused, wondering what to tell her.

  “Will you just tell me what’s going on?” Tracie sounded frantic. She was rapidly working herself into a frenzy.

  “As I said, this is a precaution,” Robert reiterated. He decided to give her a list of action items. That usually had the effect of distracting her hysteria. “Tracie, put these instructions on your iPad, so that you won’t forget anything.” He heard her scrambling through her large designer carryall. When he thought she’d found it, he continued, “When the security team arrives, don’t open the door. They will expect you to ask for their names and ID numbers. Then call here before you allow them in the house. We’ll verify that they are who they say they are, and they will use a code word that we’ll give you. After they give you that code word, you can open the door. Have you got that?” Robert was trying to sound in control, businesslike, and commanding.

  “Security Team? Robert, what is this about? Why...” Tracie sounded breathless.

  “Don’t worry,” Robert interrupted. “This is only a safety measure. We are following normal procedure for Homeland Security threats.” He was doing his best to sound soothing. “I swear I’m fine, and nothing has happened. The government’s being a little over-protective; all right?” He wasn’t sure she’d buy it, but he thought that deferring to higher authority might make her see the situation as some standard reaction to a terrorist threat.

  “You’d better keep calling me.” She demanded. He figured it was an improvement that she was starting to sound angry, rather than worried. “You’re scaring the hell out of me, and you know it.” She continued, “I’m going to get the boys as soon as the agents get here, and are cleared.”

  “That’s fine.” He said, hoping agreeing with her would help.

  “And I’m calling Mother,” she intoned, making the act sound like a threat.

  “Fine. I don’t see any problem with that.” He answered.

  “Call me soon. I expect to hear what this is all about, and you damned well better be prepared to tell me. I don’t want any of this, ‘it’s classified’ nonsense, and you’d better not dodge my calls.” His technique seemed to be working. Tracie’s fear was settling down to some degree, and being replaced by assertive anger.

  “I’ll call, I promise, Tracie. I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Robert said, and hung up.

  It had only been minutes, but it seemed like hours had passed. Robert sat staring at a piece of paper on which he had written the message that Hunt had given him: “NSA – Karlovich.”

  For the moment Robert decided to assume that Hunt was on his side, or at least working against somebody else. He still had no idea what Hunt had been trying to tell him in their first meeting, but Hunt had now shown his hand. It was clear that he was another puppet master, pulling Robert’s strings.

  Robert was stuck in an increasingly difficult political position. If Hunt had not been connected to Senator Gregg, he would be having Hunt hauled in for questioning on the basis of Homeland Security—assuming he could find the guy. Gregg made that a political problem. Robert knew that Hunt was not who he claimed to be, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was now Agent Carey’s job, or the JPSO’s to work on that issue. That freed up Robert to worry about his other problems, and gave him a nice political distance from the Hunt situation.

  Robert looked up Karlovich. There were several in the government listings, but one stood out: NSA Division Director, Bill Karlovich.

  “Well, that’s bigger than I expected.” Robert said to himself. He had anticipated finding the name, but not that title. In fact, few titles were listed for NSA employees, and often their names were classified. This guy was a conduit for the administration. He was an official mouthpiece with the skills to handle being visible, and someone who could answer questions without giving too much away. His title meant he’d been involved in the OPOV project from the beginning.

  This whole thing felt too pat, Robert thought. This direction to Karlovich was coming too easily. Every finger of the investigation was pointing directly at the NSA. Something didn’t feel right about that.

  He ignored the phone ringing. He had given Lorraine a short list of whom he wanted to talk with that afternoon. Everyone else would have to wait.

  The intercom chimed.

  “Colonel Barlow on line one.” Lorraine said tensely. She sounded as though she was clenching her teeth together.

  Robert had completely forgotten about his call with Grady. He grabbed the phone. “Sorry, Grady,” he began, “I had an odd morning...”

  “I can’t talk long, so just listen.” Grady interrupted. He sounded very calm and much clearer this morning, but he wasn’t wasting time on pleasantries. “Go to your car and
head down Constitution. Go over the river. I’ll call you on your cell phone. Got it?”

  “Cell phone? I thought you said...” Robert was trying to figure out why Grady wanted to use his cell phone.

  “Just do it.” Grady said, and hung up.

  Robert placed the receiver in its cradle. Looking up he saw that the agent had come into the room. “I need to go somewhere. Agent...” he started, then stopped, realizing he’d forgotten the man’s name.

  “Long, Sir.” The Agent answered.

  “Right. Sorry.” Robert apologized. “Agent Long, I need to leave the office right away. I have to meet an associate outside the downtown area.”

  “I’ll notify Agent Carey. We’ll be ready in five minutes.” He spun around and left the room with his wrist microphone up to his mouth. By the time Robert had his coat, Agent Carey was coming down the hall. In short order the three men were in the parking area. Robert told them they were meeting Colonel Barlow. He explained that the Colonel was trying to stay out of sight. Beyond that, he described as little of the situation as possible.

  Robert got into his car with Agent Long driving. Agent Carey followed in a plain, dark blue staff car, parked near Robert’s car. Agent Long informed Robert that his BMW had been wired for video, audio, and two way GPS tracking. Robert reflected that their efficiency was striking. He also worried that the car was now damaged with wires and cut upholstery. He wondered how they’d gotten his key, but didn’t ask. Looking around quickly, he saw that there were no visible or accessible controls for the newly installed features. He did spot a camera lens in the upper corner of the windshield. If he hadn’t been told about the changes, he might not have noticed it. Obviously the additions were for covert monitoring by other agents. Robert briefly wondered how many agents were assigned to this case.

  He also wondered how they had had time to wire his car. He noticed the security guard in the parking area as they pulled out. Robert thought he might be a different man—he seemed more attentive than the usual guard.