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Termination Limits: Tom Kintrell Book 1 (Tom Kintrell Thriller Series)

Page 19

by R. J. O'Rourke


  “What was the name of the book, Lanny?” prompted Kintrell.

  “Give me a minute, Tom.” After thinking for a few moments, Alvarez said, “I think it was Beloved Assassin.”

  “Are you sure, Lanny?”

  “Yeah, pretty sure, Tom. It may not mean anything, the book I mean, maybe the judge has a soft spot for those kinds of books.”

  “Did you happen to get the author’s name?”

  “Give me a minute.” Alvarez closed her eyes, trying to relive the time in the judge’s office. Opening her eyes, she said, “It might have been Sarah Hallman or something like that.”

  “That’s good, Lanny, you get some rest now. I’m going to have a couple guys come by to keep an eye on you while I look into this, okay, Lanny?”

  Alvarez, looking a little disappointed, said, “Sure, Tom, and thanks for looking after me.”

  “Lanny, I, uh, might have actually put your life in danger by coming after you. They might have let you go after they did whatever they were going to do.”

  “No, Tom, they were going to kill me, no doubt in my mind.”

  Kintrell stood up, covered her right hand with his, and said, “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” then left the room.

  Alvarez watched him leave and wished he kissed her on the forehead again, no not on the forehead, this time on the mouth. She stopped herself then, thinking, he’s not interested in me that way, thinks of me more like a sister probably. She dozed off again.

  ***

  After leaving Alvarez’s room, Kintrell remembered his car was still at that abandoned airfield where the helicopter picked him up. He called Stryker.

  “Hey, is this Captain America?”

  “I need a ride,” said Kintrell.

  “Where to?”

  “I gotta get my car. It’s at an abandoned airfield in Jersey, and I’m at the hospital in Somers Point. We have a little work to do.”

  “Sounds great, all I’m doing is playing fun-bag-tag with two nubile young ladies in my hot tub.”

  “Lay off the hallucinogens, Bucko,” said Kintrell.

  “Two hours.”

  “K,” said Kintrell.

  It was two hours, twenty-minutes actually. On the way back to the airfield Kintrell filled Stryker in on the events of the day. When he had finished Stryker said, “I agree with Lanny, they would have wasted her.”

  Kintrell pushed that thought away and told Stryker about the book Alvarez mentioned.

  “She may have something there. I can’t see something like that on the judge’s reading list. Problem is gonna be finding it. I guess it would be too much to ask if she got the author’s name?” said Stryker.

  “She thinks it’s Sarah Hallman. I’ll Google the name while you’re driving.” Kintrell took his phone out. “There are a few Sarah Hallmans coming up, most notably a singer. But no authors by that name.”

  “Key in Sarah Hall,” said Stryker.

  After keying in the name, he got a hit on an author named Sarah Hall but after scanning her novels, none of them matched the title.

  “There is an author named Sarah Hall but none of her books bear the title we’re looking for, and after checking out her work I don’t think she would be writing that particular type of novel.”

  “Do you have a Nook or Kindle?” asked Stryker.

  “There’s a Kindle on my computer at home,” said Kintrell.

  “Their search engine might be better equipped to find authors,” said Stryker.

  After retrieving the car, they returned to Kintrell’s house. They each had a Glenlivet while Kintrell pulled up the Kindle program on his laptop. He keyed in the name Sarah Hallman again with no success. He then tried Sarah Halman, leaving out the second L. Nothing. He then tried Sara Hallman. Again, no go.

  He then keyed in just Sarah and got a significant number of hits, then narrowed it down to the Sarahs with last names beginning with H, then went through the lists of their novels. Nothing.

  It was approaching 11:00 PM when, after inputting Sara H, he got a hit on a Sara Halston. Scrolling through her list he said, “Bingo! I think this is it. It’s not Beloved Assassin, it’s Beleaguered Assassin.”

  He downloaded the book then told Stryker they had to go to the office. They arrived at the FBI office twelve minutes later.

  They made their way to the evidence locker and retrieved the laptop from Baltimore. The program that kept the laptop open was still running. Kintrell brought up the calendar then opened his laptop to the Kindle app and brought up the book.

  Matching up the first three numbers to page, line, and word, translated to “contingency” the second word was “Worst” the third “Case” the fourth “scenario.”

  Stryker said, “Shit.”

  Kintrell kept at it. The remaining code numbers read: three, swear, maximum, and casualty. The only other notations were individual letters CTSBSO.

  “What do you make of this, Norm?” asked Kintrell.

  “Well, whatever it is, it ain’t good. That bit about maximum casualties doesn’t bode well for somebody.”

  “What about three and swearing?”

  “Maybe three shooters this time. If these guys have access to M-79s and light machine guns as we suspect, they could do some major damage,” said Stryker.

  “Only thing is, they’ve been pretty careful about collateral damage, except for the thing with Lanny,” said Kintrell.

  “Look at it this way. We know at least two of the guys that took Lanny weren’t former operators but private contractors, probably with instructions not to harm her. They made an executive decision to eliminate her, to leave nothing that could be traced back to them. It’s obvious they took her as a diversion—so we would take our eyes off the ball—and they accomplished that for a couple days. So, whatever is going to happen is going to happen pretty soon. It wouldn’t make sense to snatch Lanny and hold her for an extended period of time,” said Stryker.

  “I agree but where … Holy shit!”

  “What, what?” said Stryker.

  “We have to get a hold of Lanny’s laptop, and head to the hospital right now!”

  On the way to Alvarez’s office Kintrell related his suspicions to Stryker. Once in Alvarez’s office they snatched up her laptop then hurried back out to the garage. They made it to the hospital in just under two hours using lights and siren. They raced through the lobby, continued to the bank of elevators, and entered one as its doors opened, punching in Alvarez’s floor.

  They quickly made their way to her room. An FBI agent stood sentry outside, another one inside. He recognized Kintrell and let them pass. The agent inside rose from a chair as they entered.

  Kintrell told the agent he had to speak with Alvarez, and it was a “need to know” situation.

  The agent told Kintrell that she had been sleeping for the last few hours, and he thought she may have been given a sedative or pain medication, or both a short time ago. Kintrell thanked the agent. The agent then left the room.

  Kintrell moved closer to the bed. “Lanny, I need to talk to you, Lanny … Lanny.” He shook her shoulder gently. Her eyes started to blink, and she slowly came to. Seeing Kintrell, she smiled.

  “Are we there yet?” said Alvarez.

  “We’re in the hospital, Lanny. I’m here with Norm. I need you to do something for me.”

  “Hospital? So sleepy Tom, so sleepy, have to rest for a minute.”

  As she started to doze off again Kintrell took her right hand and shook it a little, “Lanny, I need you to wake up for just a few minutes. Lanny, come on girl, just for a minute,” said Kintrell, as he gently squeezed her hand. She started to come around again.

  “Good, Lanny,” said Kintrell, as he pushed the button that would raise the head of the bed.

  Alvarez squeezed her eyes shut, hunched her shoulders a bit, then winced a bit and came awake. “What, what?”

  “Lanny, I need to get into your computer. What’s your password?”

  “Who goes there?” said
Alvarez, giggling.

  “It’s me, Lanny. It’s very important I get into your laptop. I need your password.”

  “Hello, Tom, you came back. You found me. You’re my partner. My Tom …” she started giggling again.

  Kintrell positioned the hospital table in front of Alvarez and brought the head of the bed higher.

  “Lanny, open your laptop.”

  “Okay.” She tried typing into the laptop, but dexterity failed her.

  “Try again, Lanny,” said Kintrell.

  She tried again to no avail, said, “Oopsy doopsy,” and started giggling again.

  Kintrell then said, “Lanny, tell me your password.”

  “Not supposed to, Tommy,” still giggling.

  “Then whisper it in my ear so no one will hear, okay?”

  “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone about the shine-ola,” said Alvarez.

  “Huh?” said Kintrell.

  “Don’t you remember, we were looking at Dixon and I said, ‘What do you think he’s up to?’ and you said, ‘He’s trying to figure out what shine-ola is.’” She laughed out loud this time and Stryker joined her.

  Kintrell smiled at the memory then leaned in. “The password, Lanny. Whisper it in my ear.”

  Alvarez whispered a series of seven numbers in Kintrell’s ear. He typed in the numbers and the laptop opened up. He then asked her where the names of the twenty-two former special operators were. She gave him the file name and he brought it up, found what he was looking for, and said to Stryker, “We gotta go.”

  Kintrell lowered the head of the bed and Alvarez said, “Going down, Tommy” then she giggled again, and shortly thereafter went back to sleep.

  On the way out of the hospital Stryker said, “You gotta promise me one thing after this is over, Kintrell.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “The name of the shit they’re giving Lanny.”

  ***

  On the way back to his office Kintrell called Dede. The first time he called, the phone went to message. He waited a minute then hit redial. She picked up this time. “Do you have any idea what time it is, Agent Kintrell?”

  “Listen, Dede, I’m pretty sure I know what these guys are planning, and it’s going to happen tomorrow. I’m heading for the office now. I’m going to need Agent Dixon also, but not Sheady. Tell him flat out that Sheady can’t be a part of this.”

  “Okay, Tom, I’ll try to get Dixon. If I can’t reach him by phone, I’ll have someone shoot over to the Union League and roust him out of bed. This better be good, Tom.”

  “It’s not good, Dede, it’s very, very bad.”

  Chapter 28

  Agent Dixon, Dede McGriff, Kintrell, and Stryker sat at the conference table.

  Dixon looked disapprovingly at Stryker. Stryker gave him his best phony smile and Dixon said, “You have something to tell us, Agent Kintrell?”

  “You there, T.J.?” said Kintrell.

  The voice of T.J. Worthington came through the conference phone on the table. “Here, Tom, reading you five-by-five.”

  Kintrell then started from the beginning leaving nothing out. When he got to the part about bugging the judge’s residence, Dixon exploded. “You did unauthorized surveillance on a federal judge? This is exactly the thing I feared would happen—”

  Before he could say anything else, Kintrell said, “It gets worse. We found the leak. It’s your little friend, Sheady.”

  “That’s preposterous,” said Dixon. “You better have proof to back up that allegation.”

  Kintrell then explained how they came to believe Sheady was the mole, and how they bugged his phone and his room. He then brought out his phone and played the conversation between the judge and Sheady, explaining how they were able to hear both sides of the conversation. When the tape ended Kintrell spoke directly to Dixon. “Everything we’ve done with this investigation has been relayed to the killers by your assistant.”

  Dixon, white as a sheet, couldn’t think of what to say at this point except, “If this information was gathered illegally, it won’t be admissible.”

  Dede then spoke up. “Agent Kintrell, please continue.”

  “The judge set up the kidnapping of Agent Alvarez through a cut out in Puerto Rico, who is now in our custody. He did this to distract us from his next operation, which I believe will take place later today at the Capitol. I think their next target or more correctly targets, will be those congressmen and congresswomen who are going to be sworn in at noon today.”

  He then took them through the book, crediting Agent Alvarez for her observational skill. He produced the laptop from Baltimore showing how the coded numbers corresponded to certain words in the book.

  “I believe the three in the code is for the third of January. The word swear is for swearing in. Maximum casualties speaks for itself. They are going to attack Congress at the swearing in ceremony today at noon.”

  “But how?” said Dixon. “Security at the ceremony will be tight as a drum.”

  “You will note the six letters listed on the calendar. I believe they correspond to last names. Agent Alvarez, in the very beginning, compiled a list of former special operators that may have a bone to pick with how they were cashiered out of the service. It didn’t ring a bell at the time, but two of the names on her list are in law enforcement, specifically the Capitol Police. One of them heads up their SWAT guys. Their names are Summers and O’Hara. You’ll notice the last two letters in that series of six are S and O.”

  “Good God!” said Dixon.

  “Are you hearing this, T.J.?” said Kintrell.

  “Jesus effing Christ, Tom!” said Worthington.

  “We’ve got to do something right now. We have to arrest these two tonight!” said Dixon.

  “On what evidence? What about the other four? We don’t know who they are or how they’re going to access the Capitol. For all we know they could already be in the building in hiding.”

  “We could call off the ceremony,” offered Dede.

  “Do you think Congress would go along with that? Even if they did, then what, we wait for another attack, hoping we can stop it then? Remember the kind of weaponry they are in possession of,” Kintrell said.

  “Agent Kintrell, you have a plan in mind?” asked Dede.

  Chapter 29

  January 3rd, 0700, a brownstone in Georgetown.

  Lieutenant Nathaniel Summers, former Green Beret, said, “Okay, gentlemen, let’s go over this again.

  “The call to the Capitol Police will come in at precisely 11:55. We’ll be in the bus two minutes away. When we get to the Capitol, we quickly proceed to the Floor. Each of us will enter the Floor through a different door and chain the door behind us. Cole, first target is the Speaker, who will be at the top of the dais, so make the shot good. Other targets will be all those at a desk. We can’t hesitate, gentlemen, or be compassionate. We simply shoot everyone who’s sitting or standing at a desk. We push forward till we are at the dais and exit the Floor through the doors at the back of the chamber. Before we leave, we toss the grenades back into the crowds. Once outside the Chamber we proceed to the exfil point and simply drive away. In the confusion any opposing force won’t know who’s a friendly and who’s not. The jet will be fueled and ready at the airport. This is the time for go or no-go, gentlemen. I need to hear it from each one of you. If you can’t be a part of this, now is the time.”

  Cole? “Go.”

  Broderick? “Go.”

  Talmadge? “Go.”

  O’Hara? “Go.”

  Steenbergen? “Go.”

  “Okay, weapons and gear check,” said Summers.

  0700, Quantico, Virginia

  Kintrell, Dixon and Stryker were huddled with T.J. Worthington to go over tactics. The helicopter ride down from Philadelphia was a somber affair. Dixon, perhaps too embarrassed about the Sheady betrayal, didn’t object to having Stryker along.

  There were twenty-eight men and women crowded into the conference room. The Speaker o
f the House was also present. There was an open link to the White House. On the screen behind the head of the table was a floor plan of Congress.

  Worthington with a laser pointer was focusing the beam on the rear of the Floor.

  “I believe they’ll most likely come through the main doors in the rear of the auditorium—probably securing the doors behind them after they enter—then advancing on the assembled members and spraying them, possibly with automatic fire. They can do the most damage this way.”

  “What about the balcony?” someone said.

  “Too crowded up there, and they might encounter resistance, plus a lot of the members could escape the fire by running to the back of the auditorium,” said Worthington.

  “You mentioned trapping them, Agent Worthington?” said the Speaker.

  “The problem, Mr. Speaker, is we don’t know where they are right now. They could already be in the building, for all we know.”

  “Can’t we just search the building and arrest them if we find them?”

  “Again, we know, or think we know two of them, but we don’t know for sure who the other four are. If we institute a search, they’re bound to find out about it and the people doing the search would have to have the Capitol Police involved, and who knows who can be trusted there. So, they cancel the action today and reschedule at a time of their choosing so the threat level will be heightened for the foreseeable future. We haven’t enough evidence to hold Summers and O’Hara, even if we arrest them, and they’ll be freed rather quickly. The only way we can stop them is to catch them in the act,” said Worthington.

  “That’s another thing, if you don’t have enough evidence to even arrest them, how do you know they’re actually planning what you claim they are?” said the Speaker.

  Kintrell spoke up then, “Mr. Speaker, if we are right and these people kill a slew of representatives, and you interfered with our plans to defend said representatives, how will that sit with you, your party, and the people that elected you?”

 

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