by L. J. Taylor
He opened the garage door and the van pulled inside. He and his men lifted the old man and placed him into the back of the van. He went back into the house and used a cloth to wipe off the doorbell, the garage switch and any other surfaces he might have touched. He went back out into the garage, climbed into the van and drove off.
The entire operation took less than five minutes.
CHAPTER XXII
Charles, Kathy, Tyler Fox and Agent Michaels sat at the dining room table in the safe house. Charles watched Kathy pick up the mug of coffee, take a sip and make a face. He smothered a grin and turned to Tyler. “Hey man, can we send someone out to get some green tea and some of that new sweetener Truvia? That’s what she likes.” He nodded his head toward Kathy who smiled at him.
Tyler and agent Michaels tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the smirks on their faces. Charles narrowed his eyes at Tyler who cleared his throat and turned to Kathy. “Ah, sure, we could do that. Is there anything else you need while we’re at it?
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she said. “I don’t eat dairy or white carbs. Do you think you could get me some Silk almond milk, agave nectar, whole grain wraps . . .”
Charles could see Tyler’s eyes glaze over. He bit the inside of his lip, grabbed a legal pad and a pen from the middle of the table, and slid it over to Kathy. “Here. Why don’t you just make a list?”
Kathy’s lips twitched. “That’s a good idea.” She picked up the pen and began making a grocery list.
“So,” Charles asked. “Where do we go from here?”
“Well, in terms of the F.B.I.’s investigation of Peachtree, the events of last night may have been a break in the case,” Agent Michaels said. “In your statement, you said that one of the assassins said that he was sent by Peachtree to kill you and that Peachtree had dispatched another team to take out Ms. Brooks, right?”
“Yes. That’s how I knew I had to get to Kathy’s condo. I tried calling her to tell her to get out of there, but she didn’t answer her cell or her home phone,” he said. He glanced at her.
She grimaced. “My cell phone is usually at the bottom of my pocketbook. I didn’t hear it ring. I check it periodically, but not as much when I’m hanging out on the weekend.”
“You should have called us or at least the police first instead of heading over there to handle the situation yourself. You might have been killed,” Agent Michaels said.
Charles shook his head. “All I could think about was getting to Kathy before the killers did. I couldn’t trust you or the police to get there in time. I did arrange to have the valet call Tyler when I got there. And the police were already in the building. As it was, I got to Kathy and her sister first. If I hadn’t of done it like I did, they’d be dead.”
He looked at Kathy and noticed the stricken look on her face. He reached out under the table, took her hand into his and squeezed it gently.
Agent Michaels frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tyler stepped in before he could utter a word. “Look, it all worked out for the best. Charles, Kathy and her sister are safe and sound. Charles was licensed to carry a gun and he used it to defend himself and them. It’s all nice and legal. The question we need to address now is where do we go from here?”
Agent Michaels shrugged. “We get warrants for Donald Peachtree’s arrest and to search Peachtree Consulting’s records for evidence they paid those assassins and ordered the hits. While we’re at it, we see whatever other evidence we can find. In the meantime, we keep Mr. Morgan and Ms. Brooks in protective custody.”
“That’s not going to work,” Kathy said.
“What’s not going to work?” Agent Michaels asked.
“For starters, I’m not sure that anything you find in Peachtree’s files outside of the scope of the warrant will be admissible in any subsequent proceedings the U.S. Attorney brings against Peachtree. Second, all you’ve got is Charles’ word with respect to what the killer told him. If the assassin denies making that statement, you may or may not have enough to even get the warrant,” she said. “Third, I have a case to prep for trial. I can’t just stay here.”
“Staying here is the best way for us to protect you from Peachtree’s assassins. The case has got to be a secondary consideration. It’s going to be a little difficult for you to prep your case for trial if you’re dead Counselor,” Agent Michaels said.
Kathy looked Agent Michaels dead in the eye. “The case may be a secondary consideration for you, but it’s not for me and not for Charles. If you had any sense, you’d see that, by prosecuting his case, we’re actually trying to make the F.B.I.’s evidence stronger so that when you take Peachtree down, it will be for good.”
Agent Michaels frowned. “How do you propose to do that?”
“Our plan is to argue that the documents produced by Peachtree don’t rise to the level of attorneys’ eyes only confidentiality. Once Charles is able to review them, he should be able to provide us with leads proving Peachtree conducted illegal operations for the C.I.A. If we’re allowed to present evidence of that at trial, the F.B.I. will have good cause to investigate Peachtree. I can’t see Judge McCarthy keeping F.B.I. agents with high level security clearance out of the courtroom during trial,” Kathy said.
Agent Michaels stroked his chin for a moment then turned to Charles. “What makes you so sure you’ll be able to use the records to prove that Peachtree is involved in illegal domestic operations on behalf of the C.I.A.?”
“Because I’ve seen some of the documents already and recognized the name of a C.I.A. operative I had dealings with when I was in the Corps,” Charles said.
Agent Michaels leaned forward in his chair, an eager gleam in his eye. “You did what? How? Which documents did you see?”
Kathy shook her head. “Charles, don’t say another word.” She turned to Agent Michaels. “If you want to continue this conversation, you’ll have to get the U.S. Attorney’s office to draw up an immunity agreement for my client.”
“Your client had better tell us everything he knows right now or we’re going to take him down to F.B.I. headquarters and book him for impeding a federal investigation. We may even just drop you off at your condo on the way,” Agent Michaels said.
Kathy smiled. “Who are you kidding? You need this information. If you arrest my client, he’ll just get a sudden case of amnesia. And if anything happens to me when I’m supposed to be in protective custody, my family will become multimillionaires from the lawsuit they’d bring against the F.B.I. How long do you think you’ll be able to keep your job after that? I strongly suggest you get that immunity agreement drawn up and stop playing games.” With that, Kathy got up from the table and left the room. The men watched her go.
“That woman is a piece of work,” Agent Michaels said between clenched teeth.
Charles grinned. “Yes she is.”
***
Charles and Tyler sat in the living room. A football game played on the television, but neither of the men watched it. Agent Michaels had left to get the immunity agreement drawn up. Other agents patrolled the house and the grounds. For the moment, the two old friends were alone.
“So what’s up between you and the counselor?” Tyler asked.
Charles shrugged. “What do you mean? She’s my attorney.”
Tyler sucked his teeth. “Don’t give me that man. This is me you’re talking to. I’ve known you since you were two years old in nursery school. I saw you two holding hands under the table. And any fool can see the way you two look at each other.”
Charles grinned. “Okay, I guess I can’t hide it from my boy. I care about her man - a lot.” His smile faded as he thought about how close he had come to losing her. He shook his head. “Man, when that killer told me Peachtree had sent a team to her house, all I could think of was getting over there in time. I don’t know what I would have done if they’d gotten to her.”
Tyler stared at him. “You’re in love with her man. I knew it!” He pointed at Charles, threw his head back and
laughed.
“Shh!” Charles said. He glanced toward the stairs. “Damn man. Do you have to be so loud?”
Tyler lowered his voice. “Man, I knew you were whipped when you asked Agent Michaels to send out for some green tea. Seriously though, I like her. She’s nice, smart and fine too. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”
Charles punched Tyler on the arm.
“Ow!” Tyler rubbed his arm. “That’s assault on a federal peace officer. I could take you in for that.”
Charles gave him a one eyed leer. “Yeah, just try it.”
They heard a key slide into the lock of the front door. The two men tensed and turned to stare at it. Tyler drew his gun. Charles wished he had one. The police had confiscated his after the shooting at Kathy’s building.
Agents Michaels walked in. “We have a situation.”
“What sort of situation?” Tyler holstered his weapon.
Agent Michaels held up a flash drive and headed over to the laptop computer set up on the dining room table. Charles and Tyler followed him. He inserted the drive into the U.S.B. slot and hit a few keys. An image flashed onto the screen.
Charles stared at the screen in horror, his mind not wanting to believe what he saw – his father bound, gagged and strapped to a chair in the middle of an otherwise empty room, glaring into the camera as if he wished he could break free from his bonds and throttle the person behind it. Below the image was text: “Elaine Gordon Park at three o’clock by the west playground. Come alone and don’t be late or your father dies.”
A cold rage replaced the horror. Charles balled his hands into fists and wished he could use them. It had to be either Peachtree’s goons or Manning who had kidnapped his father. He suspected it was Manning. It was just his style. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. He turned to Agent Michaels. “Where did you get this?”
“We have your cell phone at F.B.I. headquarters. We’ve been monitoring your incoming messages and rerouting your satellite signal to a specific location in the hopes of catching any additional killers Peachtree sent after you. This came in about an hour ago,” Agent Michaels said.
“Were you able to trace the source of the message?” he asked.
“It came from a burn phone that was turned off and probably destroyed after the message was sent,” he said.
“What about the picture? Did analysis provide any information regarding the location where it was taken?” Charles asked.
Agent Michaels shook his head. “There’s not much to go on in the photo. Whoever sent this picture knew what he was doing. The room and the chair look generic as does the duct tape used to tie your father’s ankles and, presumably, his hands. The gag appears to be a simple red bandana. There are no windows in the picture and no mirrors or other objects containing reflective surfaces. I’m afraid that what you see is what you get.”
“So you have nothing to go on?” Charles asked.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Agent Michaels said. “We’re doing everything possible to locate your father. We have an A.P.B. out on him and on Donald Peachtree. We have heightened security at the airports and borders –.”
“Peachtree’s missing?” Charles asked.
“Yes. We got a warrant for his arrest and sent men to his home, his office and his country club to bring him in. He couldn’t be located. His wife claims not to know where he is either. She said he didn’t come home last night,” Agent Michaels said.
If Peachtree was missing in action, it had to be Manning. He was probably cleaning house. The thought sent a sinking feeling through Charles’ stomach. Manning was a cold and crazy son-of-a-bitch. If he was cleaning house, he’d never let Charles or his father live to testify against him. He looked at Agent Michaels and wondered how much to tell him. He really didn’t have much choice. He needed the F.B.I.’s help to get his father back. They needed to know what he knew in order to do that. “Did you get the immunity agreement drawn up?”
Agent Michaels opened his briefcase and pulled out a document. “I have it right here.”
Charles turned to Tyler. “Can you get Kathy down here?”
Tyler nodded and headed toward the stairs.
***
Kathy reviewed the immunity agreement carefully then handed it to Charles. “It’s okay. You can sign it.”
Charles executed the document and slid it over to Agent Michaels, who added his signature.
“Okay,” Agent Michaels said. “Now tell us what you’ve been holding back. I want everything.”
Charles nodded. “The documents Peachtree produced were heavily redacted, so I had a buddy of mine hack into Peachtree’s system and download some additional files. I reviewed them –.”
Agent Michaels’ eyes bulged. “You did what? Peachtree is a defense contractor that handles highly sensitive materials for the U.S. government. What you and your buddy did was tantamount to theft of state secrets. In the wrong hands, information from Peachtree’s files could be used to make terrorist attacks. If I’d have known this, I would never have gotten that immunity agreement for you. What’s the name of this buddy of yours?”
Charles pointed an index finger at Agent Michaels. “Look. I never had any interest in downloading classified information from Peachtree’s system. My only interest was in getting clean copies of the documents the Court ordered Peachtree to produce – specifically any files pertaining to me, my wife and child, the accident and whatever Wilkes was working on at the time of the accident. I’m not going to incriminate the guy who helped me get those files. That’s not part of the agreement.”
“He’s right about that,” Kathy said. “The agreement only requires him to cooperate in the investigation of Peachtree – not to incriminate others.”
Agent Michaels crossed his arms and glared at Charles. Charles glared back at him. Finally, Agent Michaels sighed, uncrossed his arms and gestured with his hand for Charles to continue. “Go on. What did you find?”
“I found a report from Wilkes and a fax showing that the report had been sent to someone named Manning. I knew a guy named Manning in my days in the Corps. He was a crazy son-of- a- bitch who worked for the C.I.A. at the time. I needed help to determine whether Manning still worked for the C.I.A., so I gave the lead to a friend to follow up. She was a reporter for the Miami Herald.”
“You mean the reporter who wrote the story about Peachtree and was killed?”
“Yes,” Charles swallowed and stared down at the floor. An almost overwhelming sense of loss ran through him. He fought his way through it. “She was killed because I got her involved in this. And now my father’s in danger.”
He felt Kathy put her hand over his under the table. That simple touch provided a measure of comfort.
“We’ll get your father back, man,” Tyler said.
Charles nodded. They would. He had to believe that.
“So you think this guy Manning is behind your father’s kidnapping?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. What are the odds his name would be in Peachtree’s documents? You tell me what the C.I.A. wouldn’t do to keep its dirty laundry from being exposed,” Charles said.
“Huh. Not much,” Tyler said.
Agent Michaels was silent for a moment. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to put undercover agents in the park and outside the park’s entrance. They’ll tail Manning back to the location where you’re father’s being held. Once we know the location, we’ll plan a rescue operation.”
Charles shook his head. “You saw what the video said. If I don’t attend the meet, he’s going to kill my father. That’s not going to happen. I’m going to the meet.”
“I can’t let you do that. If you go to the meet, he could kill you,” Agent Michaels said.
“That’s a chance I have to take. Besides, you can’t stop me from attending the meet. I’m not under arrest and I have the right to refuse F.B.I. protection. Isn’t that right, counselor?” He looked at Kathy. She looked really worried, but sh
e nodded.
“Yes, that’s right. But I would advise against refusing F.B.I. protection.” She turned to Agent Michaels. “Look, your plan could work. All you have to do is factor in Charles attending the meet. You could let him carry a weapon, suit him up with a Kevlar vest or something and surround him with undercover agents.”
Agent Michaels frowned. He shook his head.
“I don’t like it,” he said. “I don’t like it at all. He’s too valuable a witness to expose like that.”
Charles stared at him. “Too valuable a witness? Man, screw you and your investigation. This is my father we’re talking about. I’m going to the meet and I don’t need F.B.I. permission or assistance to do it.”
CHAPTER XXIII
At two forty-five that afternoon, Charles walked into the park. Young children played in the playground while their older siblings were stuck in school. Parents and nannies chased after them, helped them onto slides, pulled them around in wagons or pushed them around in strollers.
It was a hot, sultry South Florida day. Sweat pooled at the base of Charles’ spine under the Kevlar vest. Made of the latest technology, the vest was ultra-thin and completely hidden under the sports jersey he wore.
He scanned the park trying to figure out who Manning’s operatives were. He knew Manning wouldn’t come alone. He could only hope Manning didn’t have a sniper lined up somewhere and that he didn’t spot the undercover F.B.I. surveillance team. He knew he was hoping for a lot. Oh well. It was too late to change things now.
He walked up to an empty bench and sat down. He sat there for what seemed like ages when one of the fathers who’d been playing with a little boy handed the kid over to his mother and approached the bench. Charles did a double take. It was Manning.
Wow. He must be slipping. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t spotted him earlier. As Manning drew closer, Charles realized why. He had lightened his hair until it was almost a dirty blonde. It was longer than he remembered it too.
