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Sweet Dreams

Page 20

by Aaron Patterson


  “I’ll stay close to him.” She opened her cell phone. “Hey, I need my gear ready by eleven, and get me a Taxi to Islamabad.”

  * * *

  KIRK MOANED AND ROLLED over, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep. His head pounded from lack of sleep and too much coffee the night before. He reached for the snooze button on the hotel’s radio alarm clock, which was spewing the morning news way too loud for his headache. But his hand froze over the button.

  “A local crime scene investigator was found dead in his home this morning. He was shot in the head. His wife was also shot and killed. The NYPD and the FBI have not yet released a statement or the names of the couple.”

  Kirk jumped up, ran into the next room, and flipped on the TV. “Geoff, get up. We have a problem.”

  “Bugger!” Geoff, who was sitting on the edge of the bed in the main room, pulled on a pair of cargo pants, wandered over to the couch and sat down.

  “This is not good, man.” Kirk paced the room in his blue boxers. “First, we’re tailed by the feds, then the guy we interview is shot. And the creeps killed his wife, too.” He held his head with both hands, trying to think.

  “Get your stuff. We’re going down there.” Kirk hurried back into his room, threw on a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that said Pink Floyd with a rainbow arching out of a prism on the front. When he walked out, Geoff was waiting, his laptop and camera in hand.

  Kirk grabbed his jacket and was about to open the door, when they heard a knock.

  Both men jerked and turned toward the door.

  “FBI—open up!”

  Kirk cursed, took out his forty-five and slowly opened the door. “What do you want?” He’d considered jumping out the window and taking his chances running, but knew that would only make things worse.

  “We need to ask you a few questions.” The first suit had on a pair of dark sunglasses. His partner was shorter and just as boring. They stood with guns drawn, as if they expected an army on the other side of the door, instead of a sleepy reporter and an ugly Detroit cop.

  Kirk holstered his weapon and waved them in. “Come on in.” He opened the door wide.

  Geoff folded his arms. “We would like to see some identification, please.”

  Kirk raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Both agents showed their badges and asked for ID. Kirk flashed his badge. Geoff pulled out his press card.

  “Your supervisor informed us you’re on suspension. We also have two agents who told us you assaulted them and destroyed government property.”

  Kirk rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys. You guys were tailing me, and if you think that’s assault, then you haven’t ever been assaulted.”

  The first agent stiffened. “You’re on thin ice, Detective. I suggest you cooperate.”

  “Fine, fine. But I have a few questions of my own.”

  The taller agent pulled out a pad and a pen. “We have you two going into the home of Jefferson Jenkins last night at about ten-thirty.”

  “Yeah, he was a contact. We interviewed him about an investigation.” Kirk had a bad feeling things might get out of control if the agents followed the line of questions they seemed to be on.

  “Investigation? But you’re suspended. What could you possibly have to talk about with a CSI agent, and what do you mean, was? You said he was your contact. How did you know he’s dead?”

  Geoff jumped in, holding up his hand. “We just heard it on the news. We talked with Mr. Jenkins because I’m doing a story about the prison poisoning last year for my magazine. Detective Weston is assisting me. Mr. Jenkins was one of the agents who handled the case. We talked with him to find out if he remembered anything about the case, which he didn’t.”

  The agent in charge looked at Kirk, then back to Geoff. “So you don’t have any idea who shot him and his wife last night?”

  “I got an idea,” Kirk muttered under his breath.

  “You have something to tell us, Detective?” the agent in charge demanded.

  “Yeah, I do.’ Kirk placed his hands on his belt. “Why are we being tailed? What business is it of yours who we talk to?”

  The agent arched an eyebrow. “You’re a suspect.”

  “Suspect to what? You’ve got nothing on me.” Kirk glowered at the agent and envisioned pulling his forty-five and shooting the pompous jerk right between the eyes.

  A red flush crept up in the agent’s neck toward his ears. “For starters, you killed a key witness to the prison case a year ago. Then you disappeared for a year, only to come back and just about blow our case out of the water with your questioning.” The second agent remained alert but didn’t say a word.

  “What case? I thought you said it was closed! And I was kidnapped and held for a year.” Kirk shook his head. “But I bet my crabby old boss didn’t tell you. I lived in a cell the size of your bathroom and saw things you could never imagine.”

  The two agents looked at each other without saying a word.

  “I was investigating the prison case when I got too close to the—whatever is going on here.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Then I find out the case was closed and I’ve got the feds behind me at every corner. You think I wanted to kill my only witness! He shot at me first and gave me no choice.”

  The short agent took off his dark glasses. He motioned for Kirk to sit down. “We didn’t know you’d been taken. We assumed you fled. Why didn’t you report it?”

  Kirk remained standing. “I told my captain. He said I could look into the case on my own, as long as he couldn’t be tied to what I was doing.”

  “I see. Well, if you’ll come with us, I’d like to get you up to speed on what we’ve got going on here.”

  The men ushered Kirk and Geoff to a waiting car. It was the same model of sedan the last two FBI agents had driven, but they were nowhere in sight. On the ride to the FBI building, Kirk went over and over in his mind everything he could remember about the evidence. He knew there was a mole in the FBI somewhere, so he had to be careful. For all he knew, these two men could be with them, or working for them.

  Once they’d parked, checked in and were cleared, the agents led them to a small room with a table in the middle. He sat down in a metal chair and Kirk sat in the one across from the table, sighing and rubbing his head. The second agent took Geoff. Kirk was sure they had him in another room very similar to this one. Divide and conquer.

  “Okay, this is one-hundred percent top secret,” said the agent. “What I’m about to tell you will not leave this room.” He waited to get an answer from Kirk.

  “I understand.”

  The agent placed a large file on the table filled with photos and papers. “My name is Agent Goodwin. I’m placing you under my command. You will now be working with the FBI as a liaison. I cleared it with your supervisor, who offered me his sympathy.”

  Kirk grinned.

  “To begin with, we never shut the David’s Island case down. We just renamed it Operation Justice. As you probably know, David’s Island was no accident. But what you may not know is that we’re certain a group that calls themselves the World Justice Agency is behind this and many other crimes detailed in this file.”

  “World Justice Agency—that’s what the symbol means. I found their mark everywhere. They’re the ones who kidnapped me.”

  Goodwin’s eyebrows lifted. “Interesting.” He slid the file to Kirk, who began to flip through it.

  Goodwin clasped his hands behind his head. “What we know is this. WJA is highly funded and extremely well-organized. We suspect they have infiltrated every branch of the government, including the NYPD. They consider themselves to be the judge and jury—as they see fit—over wrongs our justice system has missed or not dealt with. In other words, they take the law into their own hands.”

  Kirk rifled through the photos and papers that filled the file. Murdered rapists and killers, brutalized mafia bosses, corrupt politicians irrevocably damaged by scandalous news leaked to the media. On and on the s
tories went. Some cases went back twenty years.“As you can see, if WJA is not stopped, they’ll change our justice system back to vigilantes and lynch mobs. The FBI has had an elite task force on this group for the last ten years. We believe we know who their leader is, a well-connected multi-billionaire. But we can’t prove it. This operation is invisible.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kirk hefted the heavy file. “You have these photos and case histories.”

  “Yeah, but every suspect and every person we interview has an airtight alibi, some of them impossible to refute. Credit card receipts and witnesses that place the suspects somewhere else. We don’t have a single matching fingerprint. Their covers are always perfect. But that’s what is suspicious—they’re too perfect.”

  Kirk could hear the frustration in Goodwin’s voice and realized this was personal to him. He sensed he could trust this man. “One thing that still confuses me. Why did they let me go? One day, they just up and let me walk out the door. Why?”

  “As far as we can tell, they try not to kill anyone they consider to be innocent. They’ll detour a person from finding out who they are but will never kill an innocent. They apparently believe in justice, not murder for revenge.”

  Kirk nodded. “The guards at David’s Island were left alive. Only the guilty were punished.” He leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Of course, the million dollar question is, why stop them? They’re doing good and making sure they don’t hurt innocent people. What’s the big deal?”

  “Every one of us wants to see bad guys get their day of judgment, but I believe in our legal system. If we let this go, then all over the country vigilantes will spring up. Groups will take the law into their own hands, and the country will tear itself apart. We must stop WJA before the public finds out this is going on.”

  “So you’ve been covering their exploits, making their work look like accidents to keep the public in the dark?”

  “Yes, and hopefully we’ll make the WJA think that we’ve given up on trying to find them. We need them to think they’ve won.”

  Kirk rubbed his chin as he looked through the last of the file. “So, what can I do?”

  “You hit on something they didn’t like, enough so that they took you out of play for a whole year. We need your help tracking them down. You can continue your investigation with the full help of our task force.”

  “The first thing we need to find is this mole you’ve got inside your organization,” Kirk said. “We find him, we find the WJA. Trying to track them the usual way won’t work. They know every scheme, every place we'll tree them. They even know the sound of our bark. We need to gain their trust. We need to get close to them and take them down from the inside.”

  “So you’ll join us?”

  “Only if you let me do it my way. And stay out of my business.”

  “Done.”

  Kirk shook his new boss’s hand. It was going to be interesting working for the other side. But, hey, maybe he could catch this mole and make him squirm a little. It would bring joy to his heart to see an FBI agent in the hot seat for a change.

  CHAPTER 20

  “YOU LOOK WONDERFUL, MARIA. And your hair is, as usual, well, uh—unique.” Mark stood at the door to Maria’s apartment. She wore a dark-brown dress that highlighted her olive skin. She had a messy bun off to one side of her head with two stick-like things crossing through it like swordsmen fighting to the death.

  She smiled and grabbed her coat before taking his arm. “I like to mess around with it, but never mind about my hair. It’s so good to see you again, and all in one piece.”

  “Yeah. Sorry again for disappearing on you. It was a crazy time. I just couldn’t get away to call you.”

  “It’s okay. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.” She relaxed her grip on his arm and tried not to show how much she cared for him. With what he’d been through, it could be years before they could have a real relationship.

  “I have something to show you.” Mark’s eyes sparkled.

  Maria smiled, happy to see him excited about something.

  They stepped out of the elevator and into the dark parking garage, and Mark hit the fob on his keychain, then led her toward the lights that flashed in the corner to a sleek sports car.

  She looked at the silver car, then back at Mark. “It is so cute!”

  He laughed. “Cute? No way. An Ascari KZ1 is not cute. You can say it’s cool, amazing, beautiful… but not cute.”

  She laughed. “Whatever you say. Take me for a ride in this amazingly beautiful, cool, wonderful car of yours.”

  He opened the passenger door and helped her get in. As they drove, she tried to ask how he got the car, but Mark hushed her, telling her one day he would tell her the whole story. He winked at her. “But for now, just enjoy the ride.”

  As Mark drove, Maria checked out the car’s interior, playing with every button and light she could find. She giggled when she pushed a button and the monitor for the DVD player flipped out.

  “You’re having way too much fun with that.”

  “Well, it’s not every day I get to ride in a fancy sports car.”

  She eyed Mark, wondering if it would be proper to tell him how good he looked in the dark suit with silver pin-striping, red shirt and a matching tie. He looked like he was ready for the red carpet on Oscar night.

  Just as she was about to speak, he pulled up to the front door of the restaurant, where they were met by the valet, who took the keys with eager fingers and smiled a huge smile.

  Maria grinned. There was one man who was glad he didn’t call in sick tonight.

  Though she’d never been to Le Cirque, she’d read it was an elegant restaurant with an exceptional selection of French food plus a great view of the city. Mark took her arm and escorted her up the stairs and into the restaurant. The waiter showed them to their table, which overlooked downtown New York. The brightly lit skyline glimmered in the evening air, transforming the dirt and grime of the city into a beautiful, sparkling gem.

  After the waiter took their orders, Maria leaned toward Mark. “So, Mystery Man, tell me what you’ve been up to lately.”

  He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “Well, to sum it up, I think I finally dealt with my past and with the death of my family. It’s something I can now put behind me, so I can move on with my life.”

  Maria straightened. “Wow. With the state you were in the other night, I was wondering if you were going to take off and do something stupid. I’m glad you got away and thought things through.”

  He looked down at the table. “You’re a great friend, Maria. More than a friend, really.” His face flushed and he rubbed at an invisible spot on the tablecloth. “I couldn’t have gotten through this last year without you.” He looked up. “So what do you think of the car?”

  “It’s a little small for my liking, but if you like it, I guess—”

  He laughed. “You’re a hard one to impress.”

  “I’m not really into cars. All I need is something to get me where I want to go and back.” She folded her hands and rested her chin on her knuckles. ”You said you wanted to talk about something. Is this a good time?”

  He tented his fingers together. Eyebrows arched, he asked, “Will you promise you won’t get mad?”

  “Promise.”

  He hesitated. Finally, he said, “Okay, I got a new job.”

  Her heart fell, and she couldn’t help but sigh.

  He held up his hand. “But, don’t worry. It’s a good thing. If we’re going to be seeing more of each other, then it’ll be better if we don’t work in the same office.”

  “Well, if you put it like that.” Though she was still disappointed she wouldn’t see him every day at the office, she smiled. “Tell me about this job. If the car is any indication, it has good perks.”

  The waiter appeared again, this time with water and drinks.

  After a sip of wine, Maria said, “Well, mister? Are you going to tell me about th
e job? I’m dying of curiosity.”

  He sighed and lowered his glass. “This is the hard part. Maria, I don’t want to lie to you. I want to be always open and honest with you.”

  She nodded. “Same with me.”

  “That poses a problem with my new job. I, uh, you see...” He looked around then took her hands. “Look… do you trust me?”

  “Of course I trust you. Why?” She didn’t like the way he was hedging.

  “I can’t tell you what I’ll be doing. But I promise you it isn’t anything evil. I’ll be doing just the opposite.”

  “But—”

  “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but this is who I am now, and what I will be in the future. I just want you to know up front what kind of relationship you’re getting into.”

  She looked into his blue eyes and could tell he was telling her the truth, as much as possible. “You could’ve lied and made up some job that doesn’t exist. I appreciate you telling me the truth. I only ask one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Please be careful.”

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  GEOFF SAT OUT IN the waiting area while Kirk talked with the stubby agent. He wasn’t surprised that he was taken out of the loop, being a reporter and all. He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened it up. He had a text message from his boss. He opened it and read it. Oh, great. His editor wanted something from him, soon, and he wasn’t even close to being ready with a story. He sent a cryptic message back and closed the phone.

  He retrieved his laptop from his shoulder bag and logged on to the FBI website. He wanted to look up the director, get any information he could.

  The director was Shaun M. Nichols. Next, he opened up a search on Captain Jacobson, trying to see what division he worked with.

  Geoff stopped a man who looked like he might know what was going on and asked if he knew Jacobson.

  “Captain?”

  “Is he here somewhere?” Geoff asked.

  “Yeah, his office is on the fifth floor. Just ask for him at the front desk.”

  “Thanks.”

 

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