“I thought you and I were going to have lunch together off campus,” Jason Yu said, dejectedly.
Ellen put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know we had plans, but this campaign will be over soon, and we’ll have more time. My Dad’s schedule has been pretty ragged lately, and he needs all the help he can get. Can we have lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Jason replied. He looked up, and saw a man in his middle thirties walking towards them in a three-piece dark blue suit. The man’s short cropped brown hair, and demeanor, made him stand out amongst the Cal Berkeley students he made his way through. “I believe your escort has arrived.”
Ellen looked back, without removing her hand. “Yep, my ride’s here, Jas. Can we drop you anywhere?”
“No, I’ll hang around and get some work done at the library. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ellen gave him a quick kiss with an easy comfortable manner, which kept Yu at ease. “Bye, I’ll call you later.”
Ellen met Ned Pritchard, her bodyguard, before he reached her and Jason. “Hi Ned, ready to go?” She asked brightly.
Pritchard smiled and nodded, never even looking in Yu’s direction. He just turned, and began walking back towards the Student Center entrance, falling in behind Ellen. When they emerged from the Center, Pritchard put his hand inside his coat, gripping the holstered Glock 9mm he carried. Ellen released the grip she had on the pepper spray inside her purse. She knew Pritchard had been in the Rangers during the Gulf War, and an FBI Agent for the past eight years. She saw him glance back the way they had come, and then guided her towards his car.
“Do you know what’s going on Ned?” Ellen asked.
“Only that I was to get you over to your Dad’s office, and there was a suspected threat from the friend you were with. They didn’t waste any time with an explanation. We have two teams here right now, sent to keep him under observation until he can be safely taken into custody, without danger to the other students.”
“God, this does not sound good,” Ellen whispered, as her mind raced to think of some explanation. She knew her Father well enough to trust his judgment without question. “How will they know who he is?”
“We tapped into the Admin office, and retrieved a photograph. They also have a photo from his passport, just in case.”
“They won’t hurt him, will they Ned? I mean, you know, until they find out whether this threat is credible.”
“I don’t even know what they suspect him of Ellen,” Pritchard admitted. “We’re not in the habit of taking people into custody with reckless abandon though. He won’t be harmed unless he tries to harm them.”
Pritchard guided her into the passenger side of his black Ford Taurus, and then hurriedly slid behind the wheel. A few minutes later, they were heading towards Sotello’s office.
“You were very good in there Ellen,” Pritchard said, smiling at her.
“When my Dad tells me something with the tone of voice he used back in the Student Center, I listen,” Ellen replied.
“Your Dad will make a hell of a Governor.”
“Thanks Ned, I know he will, but these attempts on his life have made my brother and I sorry we ever talked him into running.”
“Your Dad doesn’t seem like a man who can be talked into something against his will,” Pritchard observed. “I should never have left you alone. I bet Hank wonders what the hell you have a bodyguard for, if I am not even in the same place as you are.”
“I’ll explain it to him,” Ellen promised. “It was my idea to split up for some time alone when I’m in a crowded place. You can’t be with me every second anyway.”
“I believed you and your brother were safe,” Pritchard told her. “Otherwise, I would have been like your shadow. These people know if they hurt you or Craig, without taking your Dad out, he will spend the rest of his life going after them, in office, or out. It would defeat their purpose, to put a lifetime of revenge foremost in his mind, with them as the target.”
Ellen considered Pritchard’s words for a moment. “I think you’re right. Then this must have to do with Dad and Jason, but he didn’t even know about Jason until last night.”
Pritchard steered his Taurus into a spot across from the Oakland Detective Agency. “Well, you’ll be finding out soon. At least we don’t have to weave through a hostile crowd to get inside.”
Pritchard jumped out of the driver’s side of the Taurus, and hurried around to Ellen’s door. He saw Sykes, Sotello, and Sotello’s son Craig come out of the Agency entrance, with drawn weapons, scanning the area for movement. As Pritchard opened Ellen’s door, he drew his own weapon, wondering at the nature of the threat. He kept Ellen between him and the group approaching. Sotello put an arm around Ellen, guiding her quickly inside.
Chapter 48
The Final Heat
Twenty minutes later, the group sat in the conference room. Sotello had explained the circumstances leading to the bizarre precautions. With a folder, detailing the times and dates related to each of the attempts on her Father’s life, Ellen compared the notes and schedules marked down in her PDA concerning Jason. Ellen jotted down the sequences on a notepad, taking into consideration her memory of Jason’s phone calls and conversations. She stopped, and put her head into her hands. The silence in the room became almost tangible, as Ellen stared at her notes. Her eyes began to glisten with tears.
“How could I have been so stupid,” Ellen said angrily. She looked over at her Father. “I am so sorry Dad. He was good. Everything he asked, or commented on, to draw me into a scheduling revelation, tied into a dinner date, or harmless get together with him.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry El,” Sotello replied quietly. “This campaign turned our lives inside out, and he would have just found another way. We now have a tie in between these Al Qaida guys and the Chinese. Hank will find out what the hell they have planned, which would be worth risking an incident on this scale.”
“Will this ever end?” Craig asked. “I mean what if you do win the election. Will the danger be over?”
Sotello smiled grimly. “It won’t be for them. Even if I lose, Davidson told me he will see this through to the end. He may not be with me on many things, but he has come to realize these folks have something major in the works. If I do become Governor, I’ll show some people what a steel curtain really is.”
Sotello’s phone rang. He answered it, and listened for a few moments. He looked up at Ellen as he listened, and she could see the news he was getting would not help their situation. Sotello promised to stay where he was until told otherwise, and then hung up.
“El, that was Hank,” Sotello told her, reaching across and taking her hand. “They took Jason into custody safely away from the college, but he had some kind of capsule embedded in one of his teeth. He slumped over in the back of the car they were transporting him in. It was some form of cyanide poison he activated.”
“Oh my God,” Ellen whispered, as Craig slid over and put his arm around her.
“They have an FBI forensics team going over his apartment, but so far, they have nothing,” Sotello continued. “He may have had another place he worked out of, but as yet, they don’t have any leads. His computer hard drive, and everything he owns will be examined methodically.”
“I… I liked him Dad,” Ellen admitted. “I liked him a lot. He was so kind, and… I…”
“I know El,” Sotello said, gripping her hand now in both of his. “This war may be entering a new phase we will have very little time to get ready for. We may have unmasked an enemy we had not suspected.”
“What do we do now, Jim,” Sykes asked.
“We win,” Sotello replied.
__
Sotello walked around the crowded campaign headquarters hall, shadowed by an exasperated Sykes, who had all but given up on trying to protect the Gubernatorial candidate. He shook hands and hugged everyone. Sotello had tried to explain to Sykes how much work these people had done on his behalf, to no avail. Finally, he had s
imply overruled her common sense suggestions for a modicum of safety. She had in turn recruited Craig to do unflattering imitations of him, Sotello suspected they had planned in advance. He took the embarrassingly good comedy act in stride, along with Sykes’ continued disrespectful way of calling him names like ‘Bullseye’, and her new one: Ground Zero.
Sotello made his way over to a table where Joe Randall sat, who had run his campaign office in Oakland, along with his wife Carol. Reuben Vasquez, and his family were also at the table. They had all become friends during the heat of the campaign, as they worked together in the Oakland Campaign Office, which had become the hub for the rest of the state campaign operations. Sotello shook hands all around. He turned away reluctantly, at Adrian’s prompting.
Adrian walked along with him, in high spirits, introducing all of the other workers he had prosecuted the campaign with. As the election coverage began in earnest, the crowd gathered around the big screen TV’s, set up for them to follow the news coverage of the election on. A relieved Sykes led them back to their table at the front stage, set up in the hall, where Craig, Ellen, and Kathy sat with Darren Sanders and Sanders’ daughter.
Sotello stopped at the table, set up at the front of the hall just below his, where Tank, Jay, Todd Jenkins, Damon Wilkens, and all of their families sat. Sykes watched him hug, and shake hands for another twenty minutes, while trading barbs with his friends. The San Francisco police officer, Ben Stallings, who had been in Marine Recon during the Gulf War, also sat at the table with his wife. Stallings had hit it off with the rest of the men at the table as soon as Sotello had introduced him. But for Damon Wilkens, Sykes knew Sotello had wanted the other three men on his personal security detail if he were elected. Sykes had promised to consider a leave of absence from the Bureau to head up his security team, and advise him on matters concerning his intent to crack down on the borders and ports. Adrian Phillips had to finally remind Sotello he needed to go up on stage.
When Sotello returned to his seat next to Kathy, she gripped his right hand in both of hers. But for scattered applause, and groans, as the coverage continued, the hall had become relatively quiet.
“I cannot believe how exciting this is,” Kathy whispered to Sotello.
“With all the commotion over the arrest and suicide of Ellen’s friend, anything would be preferable,” Sotello replied, leaning close to her ear. “I know you talked with Ellen since then. Did she seem okay to you about it?”
“Her first thoughts were of you, Jim,” Kathy answered quietly. “She cared for him, but she understands how dangerous things were, and that she had been used badly. I’d forgotten how really mature Ellen was. When she told me about the Placerville surveillance job, I couldn’t believe all she had handled in so short a time.”
Sotello nodded, watching his daughter laughing at her brother’s antics, as he traded insults with Sykes, who stood off to the side of the table where she could see the room. Ned Pritchard, and the other agent assigned to Craig, were in the rear center of the stage area. Not for the first time, Sotello considered his blessings. Phillips, who was seated on his left, leaned over and asked him how he felt.
“I feel good,” Sotello answered truthfully. “How do you think we’re doing?”
“We dropped a bit, when Davidson pulled out all the stops to try and tie you into everything from the mob, to the Chinese who we suspect of trying to kill you,” Phillips replied ruefully.
Sotello laughed. “Old Red really covered the low road, but you told me it would not be pretty if I was ahead in the polls at the end. You weren’t kidding. I’m sorry they dragged Darren around in the mud for a couple of days there.”
“He got you into all this, buddy,” Phillips reminded him. “He’s as tough as anybody around.”
“How are you and he getting along now?” Sotello asked.
“Amazingly well, considering what I put him through,” Phillips replied. “Gina told him everything, and what part her mother Suzan played. I think he believes how sorry I am about it all. Hey, at least he hasn’t had me killed yet.”
“He knows I needed you for the campaign,” Sotello deadpanned. “Good luck afterwards.”
“Very funny, Ground Zero.”
“So, how far did I drop down in the last few days?” Sotello asked seriously.
“Only a couple of points. It still looks good for you to become the first Governor in California history to be assassinated in office.”
“You know Adrian,” Sotello sighed, “between you, Craig, and Sykes, its like campaigning with a Las Vegas comedy revue.”
“You asked. In any case, I think you better have your acceptance speech ready. I’m more worried about the fallout with Ellen’s friend. The damn Chinese are calling for an investigation into the mysterious circumstances of the man’s death, and of course they deny knowing anything about him.”
“Hank has enough to make them shut up,” Sotello informed him. “The guy was good enough not to leave behind a smoking gun, but they won’t get very far with their protest. It’s all a cover anyway, and a pretty damn transparent one, if…”
“I don’t mean whether they can get away with the attempts,” Phillips cut in. “Jim, I’m talking about down the road. Even one term of four years, ducking bombs and bullets, would drive a man over the edge.”
“I appreciate your concern and your advice, my friend,” Sotello replied. “The Justice Department has already moved to assemble a circumstantial case to be given to the Chinese behind closed doors. If the report ever came out to tie them even remotely to trying to assassinate a sitting United States Governor, they could kiss goodbye all the incremental gains they have made here in trade. I know it sounds like a weak response, but we need to stop these guys behind the scenes, and leave the apocalyptic plans as a last resort.”
“They still know what you have in mind for their shipping loads,” Phillips said. “There will be a war when you carry out your promise to stop and search all shipping outside the harbors.”
“Not a war,” Sotello said with a grin, “an attitude adjustment. A statement, we here in California, will not be acting as a transit line for the destruction of our own country.”
Phillips started to respond, when a cheer went up amongst the crowd of Sotello well-wishers in the hall. Kathy put her hand on Sotello’s arm, and when he turned to face her, she pointed to the big screen monitor near their table. The first results from the polling places, since their closing, had begun to be televised. Sotello’s margin, with only one percent of the counties reporting, showed Sotello with a lead of sixty-seven percent of the vote to Davidson’s twenty-two percent.
“It’s pretty early to be cheering,” Sotello commented to Phillips, who was looking over his shoulder.
“Hey, it could be you at twenty-two percent,” Phillips reminded him.
__
Exhausted from the celebration of his victory the night before, Sotello had dived into bed without the precaution of arranging his bedcover to prevent a Tinker the dog, ice cycle nose intrusion. Tinker exploited the opening almost exactly at five in the morning, shooting Sotello up out of deep slumber, causing him to twist painfully as he gasped in shock, and clutch his arms around his ribcage. Sotello, realizing the source of his painful discomfort, squeezed open his eyes to see Tinker, staring right in his face, having followed up her first attack by climbing within licking distance.
Sotello sighed in exasperation, as he fended off Tinker’s questing tongue. He finally gave up with a laugh, and hugged the dog around the neck. “I think I’d rather have you jump on me, you turd. I don’t suppose you’d just forget about your run this morning, would you?”
As if in answer, Tinker backed away and gave out a short bark. She gripped the end of the bed cover and began tugging. Sotello grabbed for her, but she released the cover, and jumped off the bed. Sotello pointed his finger at the dog, who sat down, and raised a paw.
“You have trifled with the Governor of California, you disrespectful mutt,”
Sotello informed her. Sotello swung his legs over the side of the bed, and his feet into the slippers on the floor. He took stock of the remaining pain in his chest, and then stood up. Sotello put on his robe as he walked over to the window. He peaked outside, careful not to make a target of himself. He saw Craig’s Camaro parked in the driveway. Sotello smiled, and turned back to Tinker.
“Want to have some fun?” Sotello asked the still sitting dog. “I believe the victory celebration continued after I retired for the night. Let’s say good morning to the participants.”
Sotello dressed for his run with the dog, including Kevlar, and holstered Glock 9mm. Tinker waited until she saw him head for the bedroom door, before running downstairs ahead of him. Sotello descended the stairs with all the stealth he could muster, until he stood to the side of Sykes’ bedroom door. He paused for a moment, trying to mentally process the sound file of Hank Janowitz gruff voice. Reaching around with his right hand, Sotello banged loudly on Sykes’ door. He heard a startled gasp from Sykes.
“Agent Sykes,” Sotello said, trying to approximate Janowitz voice as best he could. “May I see you please, this is urgent.”
Sotello could hear hushed whispers, and the sound of bodies scrambling around inside the room. Sotello had to clamp his hands over his mouth to keep from giving himself away, as Tinker nipped him around his sweat suit pants leg. “Come now Sykes, are you in there?”
“Ah… yes Sir… I…” Sykes’ fumbled with words to Sotello’s delight. “I… I’ll be right there Sir.”
Two minutes later, the door opened, and a robed Sykes stepped out, smoothing her hair back with both hands. Sotello waved at her, as she glanced towards him in the dark.
“Good morning Jan, would either you or Craig like to go jogging with Tinker and me?”
Sykes’ mouth dropped open, and then Sotello saw the volcano building within her, starting with her eyes. “I am going to kick your no good, jingoistic Governor elect ass,” Sykes said through clenched teeth, as Sotello began laughing in appreciation of her threat.
Sotello: Detective, ex-FBI, ex-Secret Service (DeLeo's Action Thriller Singles Book 1) Page 55
