The Assassin's Trail

by J. C. Fields

  Kruger pointed to the limousine and said, “I can give you a pretty good guess on one of the victims in the limo.”

  Dollar looked at the destroyed vehicle. “Who?”

  “Fernando Guevara, CEO of Whiterock Equities. He was meeting two gentlemen here at the restaurant. Looks like someone knew he was going to be here.”

  “How do you know?” Franklin looked at Kruger with skepticism.

  “Because my wife’s boss was the one he was meeting and they just put him in an ambulance. That’s how I know.”

  “You said two.”

  “Yeah, the other one didn't make it. Look, I was at a crime scene in Washington a week ago that may be related.”

  “How?”

  “Two other high profile businessmen were killed in Washington, D.C. Guevara fits the profile, but this is an extreme way of killing him. The others were executed, one with a close range double tap, and the other with a rifle from long range.”

  Franklin looked at Kruger, sighed and said, “Go home, clean up, and be in my office this afternoon at 4 p.m. I’ll arrange a conference call with Washington.”

  Kruger glanced at his watch, but it wasn’t there. He had left the condo so fast, he’d forgotten it. Walking west on 48th Street, heading back to their condo, he saw Stephanie helping several women sitting next to a building. She had apparently followed Kruger after he rushed out of the condo. As he got closer, she saw him and rushed into his arms.

  “Sean, thank God you’re okay. I was so worried.”

  “I'm fine, Stef, what are you doing here?”

  “When you bolted out of the apartment, I started hearing the sirens and thought I needed to go and help in some way. I found several people wondering around in a daze, so I got them to sit down until the EMTs arrived. Where’ve you been?”

  “The explosion was in front of O’Dowd’s. It's bad, Stef, really bad. Neil and Frank were there waiting for Guevara. Neil is on his way to the hospital.” He paused for a second, “Frank... I’m sorry. Frank didn't make it.”

  Stephanie looked at him with terror in her eyes and then buried her face in his chest. He could feel her sobbing. Taking her hand, he started walking back to the condo. Halfway back he thought of something. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number in Washington, D.C. The call was answered immediately, “Lab, Luke Riley speaking.”

  “Luke, it’s Kruger.”

  “Hey, Sean, I haven't run that picture yet. Hope that’s okay, your email said it wasn't urgent.”

  “Yeah, I know, Luke. About thirty minutes ago, it jumped to Urgent High Priority. There's been an explosion here in KC, and the guy in the photo may be someone of interest.”

  There was silence on the phone, and then Luke said, “It's on CNN right now. Looks bad.”

  “It is, Luke. I know of at least four dead, and the total may climb before the day is over.”

  “Okay, Sean, I'll run it right now. Is this official or what?”

  “Luke, I hate to ask you this, but I would prefer you keep it between you and me for now. If this person is not involved, I'm the only one who will catch the heat.”

  “That's why everybody likes you, Sean. You watch out for us backroom guys. Not too many agents do that anymore.”

  “I appreciate the kind words, Luke, but I just need to know as much about this guy as I can. He may have just killed a friend of mine.”

  “Understood. I'll email the results as soon as I have something, okay?”

  “Works for me, Luke, thanks.” Kruger ended the call just as he and Stephanie reached their condo.

  When they were inside, Stephanie turned to him and said, “What photo?”

  Kruger crossed the room, pulled the sliding glass doors shut, closed the blinds, turned to Stephanie, and said, “There was somebody following Guevara yesterday. He had a listening device in his ear. Probably eavesdropping on Guevara's conversations. He may be involved with this, or maybe not. I took several pictures of him with my phone and sent them to the lab in Washington. That was the lab tech, a good man, and if the software can find him, Luke will do it.”

  Stephanie nodded. “How bad was Neil?”

  “Not sure, but it might be a good idea for you to head over to the hospital to check on him. I have to be on a conference call at the KC office at four. I’m not sure how long it will take either. Plus, if I get a response from our guy in Washington, I might have to take a quick trip to Springfield.”

  “JR?”

  Kruger nodded. “The agency will require too much paperwork and court orders for the kind of internet search I need. JR can do it with his eyes closed and not ruffle any feathers.”

  She nodded, “Okay, I’ll clean up and go to the hospital and let you know about Neil as soon as possible. Sean…”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Stephanie went to the bathroom, and Kruger heard the shower start. He went to his desk and retrieved the glass in the plastic bag with the fingerprints. He stared at it and said to himself, “Guess I need to get you to Fed Ex for a quick overnight. Maybe this will help give us the name of our eavesdropper.”

  Kruger looked at his wrist. His watch still wasn’t there. Glancing at the digital clock, he determined he had a few hours before the conference call. Plenty of time to clean up and get to the KC office. He had a bad feeling the events of the day would suck him into the investigation of the other two murders. All three were rich. The first two had connections to Israel. He realized he needed to know what connection Guevara might have to the Jewish state and he needed to know it before the conference call at the KC office. It was time to call Seltzer and bring him up to speed.

  He didn’t know his phone call would set in motion a cascade of events affecting Stephanie and him for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter 13

  Kansas City, MO

  Monday

  By 3 p.m., Kruger was checking emails in an empty cubicle on the second floor of the Kansas City FBI Office. Nothing from Luke yet, but after this amount of time, he was not optimistic about getting results from the photos. The drinking glass was another matter; Fed Ex Priority Overnight was scheduled to deliver it directly to Luke Riley's attention first thing in the morning. Hopefully by Tuesday afternoon, he would have a name and face.

  Kruger understood when Dollar told him to go home and clean up, he meant for Kruger to put on a suit and tie before the conference call. He had no intentions of wearing a suit to the office, so he showed up in khakis, FBI polo shirt, light tan socks and his Docksider loafers. At least he was comfortable, and hopefully sending Dollar a message he wasn’t Kruger’s boss.

  Promptly at five minutes to four, a young agent stopped at his cubicle and said, “Are you Agent Kruger?”

  Kruger looked over his reading glasses at the agent and nodded.

  “They're ready to start in the conference room. Agent Dollar sent me to find you. Ah... sir, Agent Dollar has a strict dress code for the office. Coat and tie at all times.”

  Kruger stood, closed his laptop, placed it in his backpack, walked around the desk, patted the young agent on the shoulder, and smiled before answering.

  “I don't work for Mint Dollar. Besides, I'm on vacation.”

  He exited the cubicle farm and headed for the conference room.

  When Kruger entered, Dollar glared at him, shook his head, and said, “You're late, Agent Kruger.”

  Kruger glanced at his watch, it was exactly four o’clock and the conference call had not started. He said, “No, I'm not, it’s just now four.” Pointing at the large screen monitor on the wall, he added, “No call yet.”

  “In this office, we anticipate, we are professional, and we are punctual.”

  Kruger rolled his eyes, shook his head, and found an empty chair on the far end of the conference table. He glanced around. There were eight other agents, all young and all in dark gray suits with red striped ties. Except for the faces, they were identical. He removed his compu
ter from his backpack and placed it on the conference table. He stifled his urge to laugh at the absurdity of Dollar and his rules. Finally, he was saved by the big screen coming to life with the image of FBI Director Phillip Wagner. Sitting next to him was Deputy Director Paul Stumpf and Assistant Deputy Director Alan Seltzer.

  Director Wagner started, “Thank you all for joining this call. I wish it was under better circumstances. Deputy Director Stumpf will brief you on what we currently know, and then we will hear any updates you might have. Last we will discuss how to move forward with the investigation. Director Stumpf...”

  Paul Stumpf was in his late 40s. At one time a dedicated marathon runner, he still had the body to show for it. But after having both knees replaced, he was starting to add pounds to his five-feet-eleven frame. His hair was dark brown, perfectly styled, with no noticeable gray. Wireless glasses sat on an unremarkable nose in front of arctic blue eyes. Kruger knew Stumpf from his early career; he considered him a friend and still one of the good guys. On the other hand, Director Wagner was an unknown even though he had met him several times.

  Stumpf started his review. “We have two cases here in the Washington, D.C., area that could be related to this morning’s incident in Kansas City. The profiles of all three victims are too similar to be coincidental. All three have financial ties to the current president’s political party. In addition, all three were active in lobbying for congressional support of Israel. While we do not want to draw conclusions from these facts, it does point us in a particular direction for our investigation. We want to thank Agent Dollar and his team for supplying the name of the KC target. His identification enabled us to reach out to the Secret Service. They are also investigating.”

  Kruger noticed that when Guevara’s name was mentioned, Dollar smiled ever so slightly. The man was amazing. He would take credit for anything that made him look better. So much for being a team player.

  Kruger’s decision to pursue the identity of Guevara’s shadow on his own had been correct. If Dollar knew about it, there would be an instant news conference and the guy would go into hiding.

  Stumpf continued, “A sample of the explosive residue is being flown to our lab here in Washington for analysis. But after reviewing videos from the scene, our explosives experts suspect military grade C4.”

  Wagner said, “Thank you, Director Stumpf. We’ll let the KC team give their report.”

  “Thank you, Director,” said Dollar. “Agent Wright will review our findings.”

  Kruger listened but didn’t hear anything new. In the few hours he had been at the apartment and here in the office, the local team had failed to find anything of significance. Their only new information was identifying the license plate from the van. It had been stolen from a wrecked van in a Montgomery, Alabama, U-Haul parking lot. Unfortunately, two more victims had succumbed to their injuries, making the death toll six. He wondered if one of those was Neil. But he doubted it. Stef would have texted or called him.

  Alan Seltzer took control of the video conference after the KC review. He started by saying, “We will divide responsibilities in the following manner. On-site investigation will continue to be handled by the KC team with Agent Dollar in charge. Profiling will be handled by my office with Agent Kruger as lead, and he will report to me. Agent Dollar will report directly to Paul Stumpf. This will give us a broader view of the whole investigation.”

  While Seltzer continued, Kruger sent a brief text message to Seltzer’s cell phone: “Thanks, I owe you.”

  After Seltzer finished speaking, Kruger watched him as he inconspicuously checked his phone, smiled and nodded.

  The director took control of the meeting again. “Gentlemen, we will consider these incidents to be acts of domestic terror. We will not speculate to the press. Furthermore, we will keep our findings within these walls. Is that understood?”

  Everyone around the table nodded vigorously, except Dollar. He was too busy looking around the room, making sure everyone was agreeing. Kruger nodded, but not to the degree the other agents were nodding. He hated talking to the press and avoided it when he could. People far more important than he were paid to do that.

  As the conference call ended, the wall monitor went blank. Dollar cleared his throat loudly and said, “Thank you, everyone, good work today. Let’s get back to it. Everyone is dismissed.”

  The sound of chairs scooting on carpet, shuffled papers and the clamor of multiple conversations was interrupted by Dollar saying, “Agent Kruger, don’t leave yet. I need to discuss something with you.”

  Kruger sat back down, waited until the room was clear and the door closed. He stared at Dollar and said, “What?”

  “First, your appearance and attire is inappropriate for this office.”

  Kruger shook his head, but said nothing.

  “Also, how did you manage to avoid reporting to me? Did you call and whine about having to work under my supervision?”

  Kruger smiled, but maintained his silence.

  “Don’t think I’m not aware of the report you filed against me after Utah. You delayed my career advancement by several years. I didn’t appreciate the accusations, which were unfounded and misleading.”

  Kruger knew that if he stayed any longer, the situation would become volatile. So he stood, placed his computer back into his backpack and lifted it onto his shoulders. He walked to the conference room door, opened it, and before leaving, turned, and said, “I really don't care if you believe it or not. I had nothing to do with the decision. I came here in the spirit of cooperation, hoping you’d changed. But after this little conversation, and the fact you reported Guevara’s name to the director without verification, confirms my original perception of you.”

  Dollar's face turned red and he stood. “And what the hell does that mean?”

  “That you're still an idiot.”

  Chapter 14

  Germantown, TN

  Tuesday

  Media coverage of the Kansas City explosion continued nonstop on both cable and broadcast news networks. The talking heads continued to speculate on motive and which group was behind this latest terrorist attack. One network went so far as to blame the current president of relaxing the nation’s vigilance and willingness to defend itself. Several senators were even calling for his impeachment. Norman Ortega laughed when he heard this. Politicians would use any excuse to further their media presence.

  He was impressed when one financial correspondent mentioned the two murders in Washington, D.C., and a possible link. Finally, his team was getting the attention it needed to further its cause.

  But, the stupidity of seemingly intelligent men and women sitting around tables and putting forth theories on something they knew nothing about, disgusted him. Shaking his head he continued to be amazed that people actually watched this banality on TV.

  Ortega was ex-Army. Everyone on his team was ex-Army. He had personally recruited them from soldiers he had served with during his four tours in Iraq. These were men disaffected by a civilian world dominated by rich and apathetic business owners. The very individuals whose freedom to build their businesses was guaranteed by the sacrifices of men like Ortega and his fellow soldiers. Yet, they remained hesitant to interview returning veterans.

  He snapped out of his funk and got back to business. Once again he was connected to the internet in a public place, this time a McDonald's in Germantown. It was time to start planning the team’s next target, a job that would finally make it clear to the politicians and public what his team was doing.

  Ortega contemplated the skill sets needed for the next target. Spreading the assignments around was essential. It would keep his team from getting careless and making mistakes. Mistakes led to getting caught. For now his team had not made any obvious ones. At least, he didn’t think they had.

  He was not delusional. He knew one or more of his team would be caught eventually. But with its current structure, the trail would end there. He'd been careful. Their communication methods
would be hard to trace, and no one knew who the other team members were. His recruiting had been done after the men returned home, so no one knew the others’ identities. He was the central hub of the group; each man knew Ortega, but no one knew where he was located. This was done on purpose. No one on the team would be able to tell the authorities his location. If compromised, he would disappear for a while and change his identity, but his team would survive to operate later. He was a realist and prepared for this eventuality. It was just the cost of doing business.

  Since no one had been compromised so far, it was time to press on with their plan. The new target was a rich first-term congressman from California. The man had made millions in the telecom industry, finally selling out and running for congress. This would really throw off any theory the FBI might have about rich businessmen being targeted.

  He typed out the email, signed off the internet and then sent the text message with the new email password. It was time to check out of his hotel and drive to the next city, probably St. Louis, or maybe Little Rock. The decision would be made as he drove out of the hotel’s parking lot.

  His protocol was simple, travel light and always be mobile. A habit learned from his beloved 1st Calvary Division.

  Chapter 15

  Kansas City, MO

  Tuesday

  Internal FBI email traffic concerning the explosion had increased tenfold since Monday afternoon. Most of Franklin Dollar’s emails contained little helpful information. There were, however, several from one KC agent worth reading. The agent had found plumbing tools in the men’s toilet at O’Dowd’s, but no plumber. After questioning the injured manager of the restaurant, the agent determined the plumber had been the driver of the van and had waited to park in a specific location. The manager had asked the plumber about being late, and remembered the plumber say he had a hard time finding a parking space.

  Kruger made notes as he reviewed the emails. He printed this particular one, wrote a few questions on it and placed it in his file. Clearly the driver knew where to position the van for maximum destructive power on a vehicle dropping someone off at O’Dowd’s. But how would he have known Guevara would be in a limousine and at O’Dowd’s at a specific time?