by Gary Ponzo
Merrick glanced around, seemingly searching for something. “Where’s Walt?”
“Payson, Arizona, sir,” Dutton replied.
Merrick first nodded, then shook his head. He pointed to the dome-shaped speaker in the center of the table. “Get him on the phone.”
Dutton twisted his head and gestured to a nearby agent who waited for just such requests.
Merrick tapped Harding on the leg as he stood up. “You want some coffee?”
Harding grinned. “That would be great. Just black and a couple of sugars.”
Merrick disappeared into a nearby alcove where the refreshments were kept. He returned a few minutes later with two mugs and handed one to Harding.
“Thanks,” she said. “What are you drinking?”
“It’s a combination of crystal meth and herbal tea.” He smiled. “Except we’re out of crystal meth right now.”
“I know,” Harding said. “I used the last of it this afternoon.”
Walt Jackson’s voice came over the speakerphone and Merrick rubbed his hands together and said, “Now we can proceed.”
It made Harding feel good knowing President Merrick had so much respect for her boss.
“Walt,” Dutton said, “Who’s there with you?”
“Nick and Matt.”
“Evening gentlemen,” President Merrick said.
“Evening, sir” came the two voices.
“Walt, this is Lynn,” Harding said. “You’ve been briefed on Carl?”
“Yes,” Walt said. “What about Mel?”
“It was just confirmed to be Ricin poisoning,” Lynn said somberly. “He won’t make it through the night.”
“Shit,” someone said over the speakerphone, but Harding couldn’t tell whom.
“This is all The Russian?” Merrick asked.
“Yes,” Walt said. “But Barzani’s paying the bill. The KSF has deep pockets. They can offer obscene amounts of money to get people to do his work for him. It’s the reason that Iron Mountain squad was compelled to make an attempt on Nick’s wife.”
President Merrick frowned. “How is she, Nick?”
“She’s fine, sir.”
“She’s coming to L.A. with me,” Walt said.
Defense Secretary Riggs said, “We’re examining our Iron Mountain contracts. They won’t be operating in the U.S. again. We’ve already brought their overseas teams in for debriefing.”
Merrick raised his eyebrows at Riggs. “When this is all over I want a serious discussion about the future of outsourcing the military.”
Riggs just nodded.
Merrick looked at Samuel Fisk. The Secretary of State sat with a stoic expression.
“How come you’re so quiet?” Merrick asked Fisk.
Fisk shrugged. “I’m waiting for someone to ask the right question.”
“Which is?”
“If the majority of the KSF is in L.A., why is Walt taking Nick’s wife there?”
Merrick looked around the table at closed mouths and averting eyes.
“Guys?” Merrick raised his voice. “What are you not telling me?”
Silence.
“Nick?” Merrick said.
Silence.
“Our nation’s security is at risk here, boys and girls,” Merrick said. “So you better not be allowing me deniability, because that takes me out of the loop. I need to know everything or I could make a poor decision.”
Merrick turned to Lynn Harding. She felt the weight of his authority as he kept staring at her.
“Mr. President,” she said with a low, reluctant tone. “There’s been conflicting opinions about the credibility of the LAX threat.”
Merrick leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Walt?”
“We found traces of Semtex in the border tunnels,” Walt said.
Merrick seemed to be losing his patience. “Go on.”
“Then a KSF member turned on his squad for leniency. He told us the KSF used the tunnels to bring Semtex into the country to bomb LAX.”
Merrick waited.
“Then,” Walt said, “a reporter for the L.A. Times received an anonymous tip about the LAX threat.”
Walt stopped. Merrick squinted in apparent confusion. He looked at Harding. “What’s the catch?”
Harding was about to speak when Nick Bracco took her off the hook.
“It’s too easy, sir,” Nick said over the speakerphone. “It’s like they’re dropping breadcrumbs on the floor for us to follow.”
“It’s good intelligence,” Ken Morris said with a tight face. “Why are we questioning good, hard work?”
“Nick?” Merrick said.
“Too easy,” Nick repeated. “I know these guys. It feels contrived.”
Morris shook his head in disgust. “Feelings? That’s what you’re going with?”
Merrick leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Nick?” he asked. “What do you think is going on?”
“I haven’t figured it out yet, Mr. President. But I will.”
Merrick grinned. “I know you will.”
“In the meantime, they need resources here in Payson,” Walt said.
“And that’s the argument?” Merrick asked.
“Pretty much,” Harding said.
“Nick,” Merrick said. “What do you need over there?”
“Not much, sir. One good investigator is worth more than fifty Marines. We just need a few good eyes and ears.”
Merrick looked at Dutton.
“I can send some people up from Phoenix,” Dutton said unenthusiastically.
“That help, Nick?” Merrick asked.
“Yes, sir,” Nick said. “How are the diplomatic channels going, sir?”
“Good question.” Merrick stared at his mug and twisted it between his fingers while in deep thought. He looked up at his press secretary. “Freddy, contact the Turkish Prime Minister and tell him we need a face-to-face meeting, at the White House.”
“But-”
Merrick held up his hand. “I know, he’ll want to speak with me on the phone. But I won’t. I’ve already sent him signals I might withdraw our troops from Turkey. This has him concerned I’m sure.”
“But, sir,” Himes said, “he’ll want to know if your threat is serious.”
“Which is exactly why I won’t speak with him over the phone. He’ll ask me that exact question and I don’t want to lie to him. I know Hakim, he’s a worrier. If he can’t get me on the phone, he’ll fly here to see me in person.” Merrick pointed to Fisk. “Remember the Environmental Conference in Brussels when his gift basket was smaller than Israel’s? He spent the entire weekend asking everyone what they’d received when they arrived. He’s neurotic.”
Merrick looked down at the speaker on the table. “Then, Nick, we can use his unexpected visit to Washington as a bargaining tool with the KSF. Let them know we’re beginning a conversation with the Prime Minister to resolve the conflict in Turkey.” He looked up at Himes. “Maybe we can leak something to the press about a possible withdrawal.”
“That’s a good tactic, sir,” Nick said. “Maybe buy us some time.”
Merrick smiled, seemingly proud of his diplomatic acumen.
“There’s one other thing we need to consider, sir,” Harding said. “The Russian. If he’s truly in D.C., then we can’t overlook the fact you might become a target.”
Merrick nodded, somber. “Okay. Let’s be careful.”
“Suggestion, sir,” Himes said. “We’ve been meaning to update the White House’s website. Let’s take it down for a few days and leave a message it’s being overhauled … no … improved. This way we can eliminate posting your daily schedule without its absence being conspicuous.”
“Good.” Merrick slapped his hands on the table and stood. “I have a budget meeting to attend so we can pay for some of these things.” He looked directly at Harding when he said, “Keep me informed.”
Chapter 13
Jennifer Steele pulled over the Sherriff�
��s cruiser in front of the last house on their list. Luke hopped out of the car and stretched his arms over his head with a big yawn.
“You tired?” Steele asked.
“A little,” Luke said, looking up at the twilight. Stars were beginning to peek through the atmosphere as the sun made its exit.
The cruiser was parked thirty yards from the large cabin in the gravel street right next to the mailbox. The road was completely secluded without a neighbor in sight. Across the street from the cabin was nothing but thick pines and a sharp drop-off.
Luke stepped toward the house, crunching his way up the drive while Steele stayed with the car and examined the realtor’s information sheet about the place. It was an investment property which was rented by an out-of-state owner for passive income. Not uncommon in these parts of Arizona. The renter had prepaid for an entire year with cash. That wasn’t so common. Why part ways with your money unless you have a reason? Like not wanting to pay with cash each month and becoming conspicuous. Luke found his way to the side of the house and stuck his face up against a garage window.
“One car,” he said in a low voice.
Steele finished examining the rental info and stuck the sheet on the passenger’s seat and closed the door. She continued up the gravel driveway and examined the grounds. Mostly pines with decorated rocks around the exterior. A few clumps of weeds seemed ready to sprout, but with winter coming their growth would be seriously threatened. She was halfway up the driveway when she heard something behind her. It was a mechanical sound, out of place in this serene setting.
Steele walked back down the driveway toward the woods opposite the cabin. She didn’t hear the noise again until she moved left to get around the car. She stopped. The noise stopped. She moved right to go around the front of the car and the noise began again. She stopped. The noise stopped.
Steele’s instincts told her to leave.
“Luke,” she said over her shoulder.
There was no response.
She moved to the back of the car and zoned in on the noise this time. It was a tiny camera, perched atop one of the pine trees. It was following her movement and being a bit noisy about it. Probably a drop of oil might’ve taken care of it, but now it had her attention.
Having a security system was one thing, but a roving camera was excessive even for a federal building. Something deep down inside made her step away from the woods.
“Luke,” Steele called out in a low voice. The deputy was nowhere to be seen.
“Luke,” she said, a little louder now.
Nothing.
The house appeared deserted. What was a peaceful cabin now seemed creepy.
“Damn you, Luke,” she muttered under her breathe. “Stay in my line of sight.”
She found herself tracing the exterior of the car with her hand, while staring at the home searching for clues. She was deciding what to do next when she heard a noise. A man-made noise. She was ducking behind the car when the first shot was fired. It whizzed past her ear and startled her to the ground.
“Shit,” Steele cried. Frantically, she pulled her gun out and poked her head up to see through the windows. A barrage of gunshots rang out pelting the side of the car and shattering the windows. She crouched below the window line and grabbed her phone to hit the send button. A moment later she heard Matt’s voice. With gunshots ringing out into the wilderness, all she could think to say was, “You busy?”
Matt was finishing up a strategy session with Nick and Walt when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He looked to see it was Jennifer.
“What’s up?” he said, but immediately heard the familiar sound of gunfire and shouted, “Jennifer?”
“You busy?” she asked, panic in her voice.
“Where are you?” Matt said. Nick and Walt stopped their conversations and surrounded Matt. Nick put his ear close to Matt’s receiver.
“385 Willow,” she yelled. “They’ve got Luke.”
“Are you near the car? Can you get out?” Matt said.
“Yes.”
“Get the fuck out of there Jennifer,” Matt shouted.
“But, Luke-”
“Luke is dead,” Matt said, breaking into a trot out through the door. “Get out, now,” Matt yelled again to Steele.
Barzani watched the deputy get taped to a chair in the kitchen while his security team pelted the female FBI agent with round after round of rifle and pistol shots from the upstairs windows. It was getting dark outside, but he could still see the agent crouched behind the car. Barzani knew they had to kill her quickly before backup came.
Mano Surtek was playing with a plastic remote while watching the activity outside.
One of Barzani’s personal security guards tugged on his arm. “We need to get you out of here, Sarock,” the man said.
Barzani shook off the guard. He was too captivated to leave. The woman FBI agent was cornered and he was willing to wait a few moments to enjoy the kill.
“Tell them to hold their fire,” Barzani said.
The security guard ran around out of the kitchen and up the stairs. A few moments later the shots ceased.
As expected, the female FBI agent took the opportunity to open the driver’s side door and sneak into the car. The woman was good, he could barely see her head sticking up as she stepped on the gas and spun dirt with her tires.
Barzani placed a hand on Mani’s shoulder while staring intently on the road in front of the car.
“Ready?’ Barzani asked.
“Yes, Sarock,” Mano said, hovering his thumb over a button on the remote control detonator. As the sheriff’s car fishtailed down the unpaved street, Mano timed the vehicle’s forward motion perfectly.
He pushed the button.
The car jumped up in a ball of flame as the explosion catapulted the vehicle five feet in the air. It tilted the car sideways and the charred shell skidded to a stop just before hitting a large pine. The blast echoed throughout the woods and Barzani couldn’t keep the smile from his face as debris from the car littered down over a stand of trees.
“Now,” Barzani said, nodding with satisfaction. “Now we can go.”
Matt raced down the gravel road and drove furiously until he saw the devastating sight. Jennifer’s car sat on its side, smoke drifting from its carcass.
Nick, Matt and Walt jumped out of the car and ran to the disfigured vehicle. Heat still steamed off the metal in shimmery waves.
Matt ran up to look inside the shell and saw nothing. He turned around in a circle searching for clues, then looked at the cabin and saw the upstairs windows open. He pulled out his Glock and said, “The house.”
Nick and Walt took attack positions around the perimeter of the cabin. Matt tried to catch his breath. Nick was already at the front door and gestured for him to take the back.
Matt’s heart pounded in desperation as he crept along the back wall of the house. He peeked up into a window and saw nothing unusual, but nightfall was making it difficult. His mind wandered dangerously to the fate of the only one he’d ever loved. Jennifer needed to be safe. Breathe, he thought. As he approached the back door, his hand trembled while reaching for the knob.
“Are you looking for me?” a female voice said behind him.
He whirled around to see Jennifer Steele smiling with leaves clinging to her jacket and dirt covering her face.
Matt grabbed her and squeezed her until she squealed, “I’m okay.”
Relief flooded his system. His vision blurred and he wiped his eyes to clear it.
“Hey,” Steele said, “you’re not getting moist on me are you?”
“What the … why didn’t you call me?”
“Sorry, I dropped my phone in the car as I rolled out.”
“Rolled out?”
“Well,” she said, “you always taught me to watch for booby traps with these guys. I saw a bump in the road which looked like an IED, so I jammed a rock on the accelerator and rolled out and down that incline.”
“Are
they gone?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t raise my head to see what they were driving, Matt. Sorry.”
He gathered her in his arms again. “It’s okay.”
The back door opened and Walt said, “You better get in here.”
Before they even reached the kitchen Matt could smell death in the air. Luke sat in a chair, his arms hanging limp, his head slumped down. When Matt circled around the deputy, he could see the long slice mark across his neck. The blood had drained out and left nothing to hope for.
Nick leaned over and kissed Luke on the forehead, then turned and put his hand over his mouth as he paced a small oval.
On Luke’s chest was a piece of paper jammed into his torso with a boning knife. The note read, “You’re next.”
“Shit,” Matt said.
Nick’s pace quickened as he simply shook his head and murmured obscenities.
Walt looked at Steele. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“You see them leave?”
“No,” she said, with a tinge of shame on her face. “I had to take cover.”
They seemed to stay quiet while Nick worked things out in his head. Finally, he turned to Steele and pointed. “Call the State Police and get roadblocks up on 60 and 260. Maybe fifty miles out. Did you get the color of the vehicle?
“It was a white SUV. Maybe a Suburban?”
“Give them what you know. Tell them it’s a long shot, but prepare them.”
Steele fished her hand into Matt’s pocket and pulled out his phone, then went outside for the call.
Nick pointed to Walt. “You need to get to L.A.”
Walt cocked his head in apparent confusion.
“Because,” Nick said, “if I’m wrong about LAX, they’ll crucify you. And right now I can’t afford to have anyone else I care about get hurt.”
Walt didn’t argue. He had a family to feed as well.
“Besides,” Nick added, “you go over there and cause a big ruckus, it might give Barzani a false sense of security. Like we’ve lost their scent.”
Sirens blared nearby.
Nick adjusted his arm sling. He looked down at Luke with a tight chin. “Walt,” he said, “before you go, get Stevie Gilpin on the red eye. Have him bring his bag of toys with him.”
