"Yes, sir."
Thayer nodded and opened a slim folder.
"We shut everything down in forty-eight hours. Here's the preferred scenario if our difficulty with Chief Kerney cannot be resolved in a less extreme manner. A few years ago Chief Kerney earned the displeasure of a Mexican drug lord named Enrique De Leon In fact, he did it more than once, but I won't go into details. To retaliate De Leon approached a high-ranking Mexican army intelligence officer who happens to have his hand in the drug cartels' pockets while drawing a nice retainer from the CIA. De Leon asked the officer to make available two highly trained Cuban assets for the express purpose of removing the source of his annoyance."
Thayer turned a page. "Unfortunately, both men were killed in a plane crash while machine-gunning a squad of Mexican federal police who were protecting a drug shipment, so the officer has been unable to fulfill De Leon request."
Thayer patted the folder and looked at Applewhite. "Senor De Leon continues to express an interest in Kerney's demise, which has been well documented by several DEA agents in Juarez as well as a highly reliable Interpol informant. De Leon is in Juarez expecting to meet with you and Agent Perry this afternoon in the hope that you might be willing to take the contract.
"He knows you're Americans, believes that you're former CIA field operatives, and that you're now freelancing in the States. He has no reason not to trust the officer who supplied him with the information, although you both will be carefully scrutinized. You're expected to leave enough of a trail so the Mexican authorities can document the visit. DEA, of course, will confirm the Mexican report. Your true identities will not be revealed. Make your arrangements with De Leon and then come back to Santa Fe."
"Is all this necessary?" Charlie asked.
"In terms of establishing plausibility, yes," Thayer replied. "In terms of taking definitive action, I hope not. But that will depend on what Chief Kerney does or doesn't do over the short term."
Ingram knew that Thayer was placating Perry. Thayer wouldn't be talking about a removal sanction if the hit hadn't already been approved. Applewhite must be creaming in her pants. Ingram kept his expression neutral, but inside his stomach turned over.
"Maybe I should talk to Kerney again," Perry said.
"I think we're at a point where it's best to let Chief Kerneys actions speak to us," Thayer replied.
"I don't like this," Perry said.
Thayer nodded in agreement. "None of us do, Agent Perry. But we keep our disagreements within the family, so to speak, which you apparently forgot last night when you made unauthorized contact with your superior and asked to be removed from your assignment. That request has been denied."
Charlie's jaw dropped. Ingram remembered a commercial that used to run on television when he was a kid. Charlie, the talking tuna fish, would swim around in the ocean trying to get caught by the world's best tuna company. But Charlie wasn't good enough to get hooked, processed, vacuum-packed, and served up in a white bread sandwich.
Sorry, Charlie, you poor son of a bitch, Tim thought grimly.
Chapter 11
Molina pointed at the car containing Perry and Applewhite, tapped his finger on his chest to signal he'd take the tail, and followed the two agents down Rodeo Road. Bobby Sloan stayed put. Clarence Thayer and Timothy Ingram walked out the front door of APT Performa, Thayer talking earnestly, his hand on Ingram's elbow. Sloan cracked his window, pointed a high-powered directional mike at the two men, and cranked up the volume. A gust of cold air wiped out everything but wind noise in his headphones. Whatever Thayer had said to Ingram made him stop in his tracks. The wind died down.
Thayer said, "The order comes direct from CG INS COM Major. You're to backstop Applewhite and handle any contingencies."
"Yes, sir." Thayer said more, his words lost in another blast of air through Sloan's headphones.
Sloan knew CG meant commanding general. He knew INS COM stood for the U.S. Army Intelligence and Security Command. That meant Ingram was no Salvation Army major. He followed Ingram to Charlie Perry's hotel. Ingram went in and came out quickly, carrying luggage. He slammed it into the trunk of his car and wheeled out of the parking lot, driving fast. The man acted like a very unhappy camper.
Sloan put the Blazer in gear and scooted into traffic four cars back. Ingram led him to the airport. Lieutenant Molina came out of the terminal as Ingram toted luggage inside a nearby flight school building. Bobby flashed his lights at Molina. Sal walked over and got in the Blazer.
"Well, here we are, LT," Sloan said.
"What's up on your end?"
"Applewhite and Perry are airborne in a private plane," Molina said. "No flight plan was filed. I got an ID on the plane. It's leased to APT Performa."
Sloan watched as Ingram come out of the flight-school building and hurried across the tarmac to a waiting helicopter. The chopper revved up and took off.
Bobby read off the numbers, "N-0-four three-zero Oscar Whiskey."
Molina used the laptop to connect with the FAA aircraft identification Web site. "Have you got a make on your guy?"
"His name is Timothy Ingram. Albuquerque address out of Kirtland Air Force Base. But I think he's probably military. Thayer addressed him as 'major."
"I'll ID the chopper, you check for a flight plan," Molina said.
"Be right back," Sloan said, exiting the vehicle. He went into the terminal, flashed his shield at the video camera above the entrance to the tower, got buzzed through, and asked for a flight plan for the chopper. Nada. Coming out the door Sloan saw Lieutenant Molina talking on a pay phone.
Molina hung up as Sloan approached. "The chopper didn't file a flight plan," Sloan said.
"It's registered to a Department of Energy subcontractor," Molina said. "Touch Link Satellite Systems. Ingram is the director of security. Guess where they're located."
"On an air force base in a galaxy not too far away?" Sloan replied, straight faced. Tired as he was, Molina laughed.
"Kirtland."
Sloan glanced around the parking lot.
"We're here with two unattended vehicles, Lieutenant. Let's slap some tracking devices on them."
"Get the slim Jim," Molina said.
They jimmied open the cars, planted homing devices that tied into the Global Positioning System, and put bumper beeper vehicle-tracking devices on the undercarriages.
Sloan filched Ingram's car registration and proof of insurance from the glove box and smashed the rear license-plate lights. He kicked the glass fragments under the vehicle.
"What's that for?" Molina asked.
"Just in case we want to stop him for a traffic violation."
They talked about tagging Perry's unit at the APT Performa offices and decided not to do it. The vehicle was parked too close to the entrance under direct video surveillance.
In his unit Sloan keyed up the radio and asked one of Andy Baca's agents for a beacon check. Molina handed the slim jim to Sloan through the open Blazer window while they waited for a response.
"You're up and running," the agent said.
"Ten-four," Sloan said. He keyed off and looked at Molina.
"What's next?"
"We've got some downtime," Molina said.
"Let's try to get a meeting with the chief."
***
Helen Muiz insulated Kerney while he cleared off his desk. He waded through the important stuff, first concentrating on the affidavit for the court order to access Mitchells Internet account. He passed the information on to criminal investigations and spent twenty minutes in a phone conversation with Cloudy Herrera's lawyer. He listened to threats of legal action, demands to restore Herrera to patrol duty, a thinly veiled accusation of racism, and a final pitch to resolve the problem before it became "politicized."
Kerney resisted a desire to laugh, told the lawyer he would think about it, and hung up.
Helen brought papers so Kerney could prep for a meeting with Larry Otero. Larry had hired a new secretary and put the five-yea
r strategic planning process back on track. He needed sign-off approval to implement new department standards on child sexual abuse investigations and wanted Kerney to review the final field training reports on six new academy graduates due to start independent patrol.
Kerney signed off on routine matters, reviewed management information reports from the various units, and put non urgent items in a pending file. He called Helen into his office and gave her documents to be routed.
She put a note on his desk. Molina and Sloan had made back channel contact through the sheriff's department. They wanted an ASAP meeting with Kerney and were standing by at the law enforcement academy.
"I'll meet with them as soon as possible," Kerney said, wondering why they'd broken off surveillance.
"Did Chief Otero consult with you on his choice of a new secretary?" he asked.
"Yes, indeed. She'll fit in very nicely, I think," Helen replied. "You have a meeting with Mr. Demora at city hall in an hour."
"Push it back for me, will you?"
Helen flashed a disapproving look. "I'll see what I can do. Are you ready for Chief Otero?"
"Send him in."
Larry Otero came in stiff and formal. Kerney forced himself not to clock-watch as they worked their way through the agenda, wondering what was eating his number two.
They finished up and Kerney commended Otero's good work. He got a curt nod and a frosty look.
"Let's take a walk," he said. He led Otero out of the administrative suite to a basement room, closed the door, and asked Larry what was bothering him.
"I've got people questioning me about this special training you sent Molina and Sloan to," Otero said.
"Questioning you about what?"
"The training supervisor knows nothing about this academy class. He says it's not on the schedule. The union rep wants to know why other officers weren't offered a chance to sign up for it, and the two detectives forced to pull doubles and work the weekend on short notice aren't happy campers. What's going on, Chief?"
"I've put you in an awkward situation," Kerney said.
"Big time, Chief."
"I won't do that again." Kerney explained what Molina and Sloan were really doing. Otero's look of skepticism faded when Kerney laid out the facts of the faked evidence in the Terrell murder case, the hard evidence of a tie-in between Father Mitchell and Phyllis Terrell, and the listening devices he'd found at his quarters.
"If I get the boot because of this, you're going to have to run the department," he added.
"Not likely. Demora will have me back in technical services within a week. What can I do to help?"
"For now, just keep covering for me," Kerney said, "and make whatever decisions you need to. Act like it's business as usual. I'll call if I need you to do more."
They separated on the first floor. Otero went to his office thinking it might be wise not to get too attached to the three stars on his collar.
***
In the years since Kerney's graduation from the law-enforcement academy, the facility had been transformed from a spartan, barracks-style operation into a modern campus with comfortable classrooms, up-to-date equipment, and a strong training curriculum.
After learning why Sloan and Molina had dropped their surveillance, Kerney asked for a briefing.
Andy Baca walked in just as things got started. "Don't let me stop you," he said, sliding into a seat.
Kerney nodded and made notes while Sal Molina talked. Molina sketched the recent events at APT Performa, the airport, the appearance of Timothy Ingram on the scene, and the little they knew about him.
"Ingram may be military," Molina said, passing over the verbatim transcript of the snatches of conversation between Thayer and Ingram that Sloan had picked up outside of APT Performa. "But he's carried on the books as the security chief for Touch Link Satellite Systems, headquartered at Kirtland. The company has a big government contract to do remote nuclear weapons disarmament monitoring."
"More hush-hush stuff," Kerney said. He wrote down IN GRAM Molina nodded.
"But what it has to do with us is anybody's guess. We put vehicle-tracking devices on the cars at the airport parking lot."
Kerney wrote down
"APT PERFORMA "TOUCH LINK," and "KIRTLAND AFB," in capital letters, and looked up from his notepad.
"What else?"
Bobby Sloan pushed photographs toward Kerney.
"Ingram?" Kerney asked. Sloan nodded. "Back up and give me a surveillance chronology," Kerney said.
Molina started with Perry's body-snatcher trip to the Albuquerque HMO, followed by his return to Santa Fe and visit to the federal courthouse.
Kerney scribbled "HMO" and drew a line to "KIRTLAND." "What's at the courthouse?" Kerney asked.
"That's unknown for certain, Chief. I checked with an informant who says there's a secure basement room that's off limits to all courthouse personnel. It was used by the Secret Service when the vice president came to town, and a bunch of computer geeks have been going in and out for the last couple of months."
Kerney wrote down "SECRET ROOM, COMMAND CENTER, LISTENING POST," and put a question mark at the end. He thought about how convenient it would be to have a listening post within a few steps of the resident FBI agent's office.
"Stop there for a minute," he said. "Is there any way to confirm this information?"
"Not likely, Chief," Molina said. "The guy's a federal employee, bound by a signed oath to keep the government's secrets."
"Let's move on."
Sloan picked up the ball. He detailed Applewhite's trip to Kirtland and Ingram's first appearance on the scene.
Kerney wrote down INGRAM RENDEZVOUS, WHY?" and circled it.
"Andy, you're up next."
"After you," Andy replied.
Kerney went over some of the basics: the phone logs that showed Mitchell and Terrell had personal contact with each other, the possibility that Phyllis Terrell may have passed information to Mitchell, and the strong likelihood that Mitchell had been delving into the possible existence of a U. S. intelligence plot to destroy the drug cartels and bring down the Colombian government.
"If Phyllis Terrell was passing on information," Kerney said, "it mostly likely came from her husband."
"That would explain a lot," Molina said. "But we still don't know what the information was."
"I'm betting it had something to do with the trade mission along with all the interviews Mitchell conducted. He was trying to determine the extent of the operation, learn what was on-line and what was in the pipeline."
"That would be enough to have Mitchell and Terrell whacked," Sloan said. "But we still don't have anything that ties the ambassador to the murders."
"In a roundabout way we might," Kerney said.
"My meeting with Professor Valencia led me to one of Mitchell's Internet providers. It's part of a conglomerate owned by Trade Source, APT Performa's parent company. Up until the time Terrell was given a new appointment as an ambassador without portfolio, he sat on the Trade Source board of directors, but his ties to the company are still strong, and he has a relationship with Clarence Thayer, the APT Performa CEO."
"You think these corporations are involved in government espionage?"
"Perhaps not directly," Kerney answered. "But these are hightech companies developing cutting-edge computer tools. They could be supplying part of what's needed to implement the next phase of the intelligence operation."
"I can take Terrell's involvement a step closer than that," Andy said. "Applewhite called Ambassador Terrell to report on your trip to Red River, and gave him reassurance that everything was under control. She later met with Charlie Perry, learned that you'd cracked the murder cover-up, and made a second call to Terrell, revising her report.
Unfortunately, his phone is encrypted, so we've only got Applewhite's side of the conversations from the remote room bugs."
Andy passed transcript copies around. "If you read between the lines, I'd say that Kerney and possi
bly Charlie Perry are next in line for the disappearing magic trick."
"So far, that trick has only been used with Santiago Terjo," Kerney said.
"Wrong," Andy replied, glancing at Molina and Sloan. "To bring you up to speed, I made contact with Fred Browning, a retired state police captain who now works as security chief for a computer chip manufacturer in Albuquerque. I asked Fred if he could quietly use his contacts to verify Agent Applewhite's identity and credentials. He reported that she was who she appeared to be. Browning may have been fed bad information."
"What makes you say that?" Kerney asked.
"Fred has gone missing, according to his daughter. She called the Albuquerque PD this morning and reported that her father had flown out to California on a quick one-day trip for a job interview. He promised to call her when he got home last night to tell her how it went. He got off the plane in Albuquerque, didn't go home, never called, and hasn't been seen since. His car is still in the airport parking lot. APD is checking the passenger list and flight crew to see if anyone knows anything. So far, zilch."
Andy poked the paper. "Fred is the state chapter president of a national professional security society. I borrowed a copy of the chapter membership roster from one of my agents who recently joined. Timothy Ingram is also a member."
"What time did Browning's plane land?" Sloan asked, flipping through his field notes.
Andy read off the time.
"Give Browning five minutes to clear the terminal, a couple more for Ingram to drive to the air base, and that's when I saw him pass by."
"Did you see a passenger?" Kerney asked.
Sloan shook his head. "Too dark."
"Look at the transcript of the Applewhite-Perry conversation," Andy said. "Aside from the fact that Applewhite is clearly in command, note Perry's demand to know who sanctioned the hit on Randall Stewart and what was going to happen to Chief Kerney. Applewhite feeds him pure bullshit about both questions."
Andy flipped more pages.
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