“And Susan Patterson’s?”
“Yes. May I ask in what direction you would like me to direct my inquiries?”
“Excluding the bitcoin deal Mac offered him, are there any other reasonable explanations why Hammond would have hired assassins?”
“Mary is here,” Lou said.
A moment later, Mary came back to Otto’s inner office. “Play that last inquiry, please.”
“Excluding the bitcoin deal Mac offered him, are there any other reasonable explanations why Hammond would have hired assassins?”
“I can think of at least one,” Mary said. “Hammond’s in the middle of some business deal with a country that wants Mac eliminated, but not willing to take the blame. Quid pro quo.”
“Or vice versa,” Lou said.
THIRTY-NINE
It was nearly four in the afternoon when Mac decided it was time to take a break, and Pete agreed. They’d stashed the loaded Beretta pistols plus two spare magazines of ammunition in two guest rooms in the front, plus the master bedroom and study facing the rear of the house.
On the way downstairs, Pete had insisted on placing a loaded pistol on the first landing. “In case we’re on the run with someone right on our tail,” she’d explained.
They’d also placed pistols and magazines in the living room facing the front and in the dining room and kitchen in the rear.
“Starting now, we go nowhere without my Walther and your Glock,” McGarvey told her. “If something starts to go down, we’ll make a grab for the MP7s, one upstairs and one down here.”
“Do you think it could happen as soon as tonight?”
“It’s possible.”
“If it were you coming up against a former CIA black ops officer with a hell of a track record, what would you do?”
“Defeat Otto’s surveillance systems and come in soft and easy as quickly as possible in the middle of the night,” McGarvey said. He had thought about it for the past couple of days. “But if I could manage, I would try to come during normal hours, posing as someone we knew, who’d been here from time to time.”
Pete was a little surprised. “Someone from Langley?”
“Maybe, or possibly someone from New College.”
“Means that people we know could be in real danger right now.”
McGarvey had thought long and hard about that possibility as well. If he were the only target, it would be easier to handle than if the people he knew and loved were in the crosshairs.
He brought the last two pistols outside, one hidden by the pool and the other down in the gazebo, where he put it under one of the seats facing the water.
Pete came from the house with a decent bottle of pinot grigio from the wine cooler and a couple of glasses. She poured for them both.
“I was just thinking that if they come at us from the water, we’d best put only one of the assault rifles aboard the boat and the other right here.”
“Okay, that’s good thinking,” Mac said.
“Except the part that we’ve made this place a fortress, McGarvey, and we could be stuck here indefinitely. And that’s not like you. So what gives? Why all the hardware?”
“Because you refused to go someplace safe.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Kirk, are we going to go through all that shit again?”
“I’m better off doing this alone, and you know it.”
“You’re saying that I’m a distraction?”
“Yes, you are.”
Pete was getting steamed up. “I can shoot almost as well as you can, and you damn well know it. And in case you forgot, we’re in this together, my dear. In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer.”
Mac broke in. “Until death do us part?” he asked. He sat forward. “This is the real deal, Pete.”
“I’ve been there before.”
“And I’ve almost lost you more than once, when even once was way too many.”
“I’ve almost lost you, too, lest you forget,” Pete countered. She was genuinely angry, and it was their first real argument since they’d gotten married. “It’s supposed to be you and me, babe, or have you forgotten that, too?”
Mac studied her pretty face, her cheeks slightly flushed now. She was stubborner than just about any woman he’d even known. But it was one of the many reasons he’d fallen in love with her, against his better judgment. From the start, he’d been a man who thought his only real option was to stay as independent as possible. He could and had accepted that he was on the firing line, the target for someone who wanted him dead. And there were plenty of those people, with a whole host of reasons.
And yet he had come to realize over the years, and especially right now at this moment, that he wasn’t a loner, never had been. And that in a nutshell was his greatest problem—loving someone whose safety he could not guarantee.
Pete reached out and touched his hand. “If hiding here in plain sight is what you want, then well and good. I’m not going anywhere. But I’m just saying it’s not only you, my darling. You may not know what direction they’re coming from, you just know that someone is coming. And you want to overwhelm them with firepower, hoping for a shot that will put them down but not out, so we can find out who sent them and why. But you have to admit that two shooters are better than one.”
“Whoever is coming next will be better than the first two. I don’t think they’ll stop until I’m dead.”
“We’re dead.”
Looking into her eyes, hearing her voice just then, McGarvey never felt so cornered in his life. “We’re dead,” he said, though it just about choked in his throat. “Or we figure out who’s behind it and target them instead.”
“Mac,” Lou said.
Pete’s grip tightened on McGarvey’s hand.
“Yes?”
“A blue Chevy Tahoe is approaching from the north.”
“Can you identify the occupants?”
“The driver is the lone occupant, and I put it at 90 percent James Forest.”
“Anyone else behind him?”
“No,” Lou said. “One hundred percent Jim Forest. He’s slowing down.”
“If no one is following him, and if he turns in to our driveway, ask him to ring the bell,” McGarvey said.
“I understand.”
“And let Otto know.”
“He already knows.”
“Ask him to call us.”
“Looks like Jim is paying you guys another visit,” Otto’s voice came from the same place as Lou’s, which was just about at eye level and a couple of feet away as if he were there with them.
“Did you have any idea he was coming back?” Mac asked.
“Nothing I could find on his email accounts or on the police tactical lines or his cell phone,” Otto said. “I assume you’re talking about his connection with the Bureau. My guess is that he’s coming as a friend.”
Forest’s interest went back a number of years since McGarvey had bought the Casey Key house. The local LE departments were often notified when sensitive people showed up as residents in the neighborhood. There were ex–intelligence officers, judges who’d served at the federal level, a couple of U.S. senators, any number of movie and television personalities, many retired high-ranking military officers, and dozens of multimillionaires, including Stephen King.
McGarvey’s name was high up on the list of sensitives, not only because he’d once briefly served as director of the CIA but because more than one attempt had been made on his life. One in particular had been a bomb put in his car in the parking lot up at the college in Sarasota where he’d taught. A number of students had been hurt and/or traumatized, and the police, in the person of Forest, had begun to keep a close eye on him.
“More than a friend,” Pete said.
“Someone is gunning for me, and he’s come to ask me who and what we’re doing about it,” McGarvey said.
“He’s just pulling into your driveway now,” Otto said. “What’re you going to tell him?”
�
�That depends on what he’s going to ask me.”
“Don’t let him see the MP7s or the long rifles. They’re military, and he could make a case for placing you and Pete under arrest. And to his way of thinking, he would not only be serving the best interest of the community, he would be helping a friend in trouble.”
FORTY
The doorbell rang, and McGarvey picked up the gazebo phone. “We’re around back, Jim. Join us.”
“On my way.”
A trawler chugged down the ICW, and as it passed, McGarvey reached for the Walther holstered at the small of his back, but the skipper tooted the boat horn for the Blackburn Point Bridge to open, and Mac stayed his hand.
Forest, in jeans, boat shoes, and a light-colored untucked fisherman’s shirt, came around the corner of the house, by the pool, waved, and made his way down to the gazebo. “Hope you guys don’t mind me dropping by unannounced.”
“Are you on duty, or can I get you a drink?” Pete asked.
“Off duty, and I’d take a beer, please.”
McGarvey motioned for him to sit down while Pete went up to the house to get a beer.
“I’ve always liked this house,” Forest said. “Of course you know that Steve King has a place not too far down island.”
“We’ve met,” Mac said. “Are you here officially or just as a friend?”
“Both. It’s just that the powers that be are getting a little nervous—hell, more than a little—and they know that you and I have history. They asked if I could come down and have a friendly chat.”
“You already know that two attempts to take me out have been made by two different shooters.”
“Professionals.”
“Both of them former special ops people, one from Canada and the other South Africa. I talked to the COs of both units who claimed that once the guys left the service they disappeared.”
“Did you believe them?” Forest asked.
“I didn’t have any reason not to,” McGarvey said.
Pete came down with the Corona.
“Anyway, I’ve never had a beef with either of those countries.”
“Thanks,” Forest told Pete, and he took a drink. “I’ve been following you for the past couple of years through the resources I have access to,” he told McGarvey. “And from where I sit in the cheap seats, my guess would be that you’re pretty high on the shit lists of at least Russia and probably Pakistan. I assume you’ve talked to people at Langley. What’s their take?”
“No one thinks that it’s a government-sanctioned contract,” Pete said. “The political blowback for assassinating a former CIA director would be huge.”
“There are ways of covering up stuff like that.”
“It’d be harder than you think,” McGarvey said.
“Well, someone’s gunning for you and that takes money,” Forest said. “Have you noticed someone following you? Bugging your phones, stuff like that?”
“No,” McGarvey said, letting Forest try to work it out.
“Yet they evidently knew where you live and knew your routines. So someone was gathering intelligence on you.”
“We found that the first guy had tapped into a neighborhood surveillance camera with a good view of our apartment building.”
“What about the second one?”
“I was at a hospital in Georgetown.”
“All Saints?” Forest asked.
“Yes.”
“Have you found any connection between the two shooters?”
“No.”
Forest was frustrated. “Look, I’m trying to help you as best I can. But I need something to go on. It sounds to me like the guys were working for the same paymaster, someone who had access to a decent intelligence agency.”
“We’ve come to the same conclusion,” McGarvey said. “And we also understand you and the Tampa SAC are worried that there’ll be a third try right here.”
“On the way from Sarasota, Spader told me again that he had been ordered to offer the Bureau’s help, but if you didn’t accept it, he was to stand down. Which leaves just us to watch out, because it seems like just about every time you show up, trouble follows you.”
“Do you want us to pack up and leave?” Pete asked.
Forest looked at her. “In all honesty? It’s exactly what I want.” He turned back to McGarvey. “You have firearms here,” he said as a statement not as a question. “And you have state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, something Otto Rencke has set up for you. So you’ve come here where it’s easier to watch your three-sixty. You’ve been open about your movements, so in effect, you’re expecting to be attacked. But you don’t want any official help, which would keep the bad guy away, and you’ve bunkered in until it happens.”
“Something like that,” McGarvey admitted.
“Exactly like that,” Forest said, resigned. “Have you thought about collateral damage like what happened at the college? Because that’s sure as hell number one for me.”
“The Alperts next door are in Europe, and the house to the south has been empty for almost a year.”
“It’s in what I’ve been told is a nasty probate fight in Atlanta.”
“You’ve done your homework,” Pete said.
“Self-defense; I’ve learned the hard way,” Forest said. “But what about a car passing by out front or a pontoon boat filled with tourists coming down the ICW? If there’s a gun battle, people could get hurt. Have you considered that possibility?”
“We’re both excellent marksmen,” Pete said. “And it’s the off-season; only the locals here now. Even King is back in Maine.”
“You’ve done your homework, too.”
“Always do.”
“How about if I get four of my SWAT team guys here? They could show up in plain clothes in an unmarked civilian vehicle. Two upstairs front and back and the same downstairs.”
“You know why we’re here,” Pete said.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“If you know, then someone else in your department might know, too. And of course the Tampa SAC knows; in fact, the entire office is probably aware of what might go down. Can you guarantee that there are no leaks in your office or his?”
Forest started to object but then shook his head. “No. But my guess, if there is a leak somewhere, is that it would be in Tampa.”
“Those guys get paid more than yours do,” Pete said. “And your people are closer to the scene.”
“What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”
McGarvey decided not to tell the cop about the Pentagon or the White House; it would add an unnecessary complication. “Nothing. Just go ahead and let things unfold as they may. Or may not.”
“Trying to take you into custody wouldn’t work.”
“It didn’t for the Bureau, and before that the Company.”
“You don’t want my SWAT guys either. So how about I camp out here for a few days? An extra gun wouldn’t hurt.”
“No, thanks.”
“Not as a cop, just as a friend.”
“No.”
“Goddamnit, Mac.”
“Let me tell you something else. The first shooter they sent after me was pretty decent. But just that, not fantastic. His experience was more along the line of taking up a sniper position a long ways from his target and then biding his time before taking the shot. The second operator was better. Much better by a large factor.”
“But you managed to take both of them down.”
“The third one will be someone at the very top of the game. An international assassin who knows his business,” Mac said. “No offense, Jim, but you’d be way out of his league.”
“Such a guy would have left footprints. Otto should be able to find him.”
“We have some ideas, and we’re still looking. But whoever this shooter is, he not only knows his business, he also knows how to hide his tracks. He’s the invisible man.”
“The only way we’ll find him is when he comes here and t
akes his shot,” Pete added.
FORTY-ONE
Li managed to sleep on and off during the long flight from Geneva to Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, but they were not traveling first class, and Taio was too uncomfortable even to doze off. He’d always been a self-assured man, but never to the point of arrogance. Yet he was seriously looking forward to going head-to-head with McGarvey, though Li had cautioned against it, and his better sense told him that she was probably right.
The American had to know or suspect that someone else would be coming after them. Just before they’d left the Geneva Holiday Inn Express for the airport, Tarasov had called on their encrypted cell phone to let them know that McGarvey and his wife had left Washington and were at their beach house on Florida’s Gulf Coast.
“I have a pretty good idea that they’re expecting company and have hunkered down till you show up,” he’d said.
“Then we’ll wait them out. Hammond gave us the job but with no timetable.”
“I want this done as soon as possible.”
“You may be our expediter, but you’re not our paymaster,” Taio said. “We’re not going to rush; mistakes can be made.”
“There are other considerations.”
“No.”
Tarasov was obviously angry, but he’d kept his tone even. “I’ll pay you a $5 million bonus.”
“Each,” Taio said without thinking, and almost immediately he regretted it and was about to say so, but the Russian was first.
“Agreed.”
“How soon?”
“Rent a car in Atlanta and drive to Florida. It should take you around six hours. I want it done and the two of you on the road back to Atlanta within twenty-four hours later.”
“We’ll need to sleep at some point.”
“Sleep on the flight over. And then on the flight back to wherever you’re headed next.”
He had shared the sped-up timetable and the extra money with Li, and although she’d been skeptical, she’d bowed to his decision as she almost always did. She’d never been a pushover, but she was a good soldier and knew how to take orders if she trusted the lead officer.
The point of the matter, Taio thought as the plane began its long descent into Atlanta, was that he and Li had also discussed retiring at some point. When this operation had paid out, they would have plenty of money.
Gambit Page 17
