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

by R. J. O'Rourke

  Kintrell told the agent to tell Dixon that he would be with him as soon as he could. The deal was agreed to and signed off on by Domingo and he was then video-taped, as he went through the kidnapping and the judge’s part in it. Domingo was then taken back to his cell. It was now two thirty in the morning and Kintrell had no intention of seeing Dixon. He wouldn’t put it past Dixon to have somebody come to his house to arrest him. He suggested to Stryker that they go to a hotel for the rest of the night and leave bright and early to see the judge the next morning. Before they left, Kintrell e-mailed the video of Domingo’s confession to Dede and told her they would be paying the judge a visit the next day. Dede wouldn’t hit the office till 8:00 AM, and Kintrell would already be at the judge’s residence by then.

  “You know Kintrell, I’ve never stayed at the Four Seasons before,” said Stryker, “I mean you being rich and all, and me being an underpaid civil servant.”

  “The Four Seasons it is, my friend. Let’s get out of here before Dracula or his minions get a sniff of us,” said Kintrell, as they made haste to the garage.

  Kintrell was able to secure a suite with two bedrooms at the Four Seasons, and had toiletries brought up for both of them to use in the morning.

  Before they went to their separate bedrooms, Stryker said, “Did you ever think we were on the wrong side of this thing?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m certainly not a fan of that entitled mob in Congress, but these guys were murdering unarmed civilians—and planned to mow a bunch more down with automatic weapons—had we not intervened. That doesn’t wash with me. If the people want term limits, it’s up to them to do what’s needed to get that accomplished. Wholesale murder is not the way to air grievances. And then, they went after Lanny.”

  “Is that what really pissed you off, Tom?”

  “Well, let’s just say it put me in the proper frame of mind.”

  Chapter 33

  Kintrell and Stryker departed the Four Seasons at 6:30 AM and made their way to Villanova by way of the Expressway, then City Line Avenue to Route 30 (Lancaster Avenue).

  Kintrell told Stryker about the huge man servant the judge employed. “He’s also armed.”

  “Now you tell me,” said Stryker. “Why is it that every time I’m with you there’s a good chance I’m going to get shot or killed?”

  “You’re just lucky,” said Kintrell.

  They arrived at the judge’s estate at 7:25 AM.

  It was a typical Philadelphia winter day—overcast grey skies with a taste of impending weather in the air. The car’s thermometer read thirty-eight degrees, but it was a heavy, moist thirty-eight.

  Kintrell parked the car just down the street from the front gate of the house. Not wanting to alert the judge of their arrival, they scaled the wall that surrounded the property and made their way to the front door. Kintrell pounded on the front door. A short time later the giant answered.

  “What do you want?” said the man.

  “We want to see the judge,” said Kintrell.

  The man started to close the door. “He’s not receiving visitors at this time.”

  Kintrell kicked the door as hard as he could. The edge of the door caught the man in the middle of his forehead, and he went backwards and then down. They were both on him immediately. It took a considerable effort to cuff him.

  Stryker relieved him of his weapon, then they both dragged him over to the staircase and used Stryker’s cuffs, interlocked with Kintrell’s, to secure him to the metal railing.

  “That was like trying to wrestle a fuckin’ grizzly,” said Stryker.

  Kintrell and Stryker, guns drawn, proceeded to search the first floor of the house, finding the judge at his desk in his office.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Agent Kintrell.”

  “Judge Adams, you’re under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, sedition and about ten other charges,” said Kintrell.

  The judge nodded. “I thought better of you, Agent Kintrell. Sadly, I thought you might be sympathetic to our cause.”

  “Which cause would that be? The cause where you murder unarmed civilians with explosives and automatic weapons? I could never be sympathetic to such a cause.”

  “Those unarmed civilians you’re referring to are, and have been, for some time destroying our country. Every problem we have in this country can be traced directly to those five hundred thirty-five people who inhabit the Congress. Some of these bastards are actively supporting our enemies. They have become what our Founders despised, an aristocracy answerable only to themselves. You may have stopped me, but there are others who will continue the fight.”

  “Those people you’re referring to were duly elected by the citizenry of this country, and it is the citizenry who decide when to limit the terms of the elected. Admittedly you got a raw deal from Congress, but that’s no excuse for what you’ve done. You’ve ruined not only some of the lives of your supposed enemies but also some people you profess to care about. You’ve also caused the kidnapping and near death of a federal agent. So cut the bullshit, Judge. Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

  The judge swiveled to the right and as he rose his right hand dropped to his lap.

  As he stood, Kintrell shouted, “Don’t do it, Judge.”

  The judge smiled. “Semper Fi, my friend.”

  The judge slowly raised his weapon.

  “Do your duty, Agent Kintrell,” said Judge Adams.

  Kintrell, seeing no way out, shot the judge center mass. The judge crumpled to the floor. Stryker advanced and removed the weapon from the judge’s hand, then stepped back.

  Kintrell then knelt by the judge and took his hand. The judge was trying to say something, “Okay … okay.”

  His eyes glazed over then, and he was gone.

  “You had no choice, Tom,” said Stryker.

  “I know, Norm, but that doesn’t make me feel any better,” said Kintrell.

  “Let’s call it in, then let’s go have a drink.”

  ***

  After the crime scene people arrived, Kintrell gave a brief statement to the Supervisor, then told him there was a loose end that had to be tied up.

  Once in the car on the way back to Philadelphia, Stryker said, “Loose end?”

  “I just didn’t want to spend another second in that house,” Kintrell said. “Let’s go back to my house, I’ve got a bottle of thirty-year old Macallan that I could definitely put to use now.”

  “Roger that.”

  After entering the house, Kintrell led Stryker to the kitchen.

  Kintrell retrieved the bottle of Macallan and two tumblers and brought them to the granite island in the center of the kitchen. He then noticed the large manila envelope centered there, addressed to Agent T. Kintrell.

  After unsealing the bottle, Kintrell said, “Ice, Norm?”

  “Neat for me.”

  Kintrell poured two fingers of scotch into Stryker’s glass.

  “We in some sort of austerity program?” asked Stryker.

  Kintrell chuckled and poured another finger of scotch into Stryker’s glass, then added a couple cubes of ice into his own glass and poured a healthy dose of the scotch in.

  Intrigued, Kintrell picked up the envelope then felt the package carefully, trying to detect if there could be anything harmful inside. Satisfied, he slowly opened the envelope, noticing that Norm was trying nonchalantly to duck behind the island.

  “Fine friend you are,” said Kintrell.

  “Hey, I needed to tie my shoe,” said Stryker.

  “You’re wearing loafers, Norm,” said Kintrell.

  “You know, Kintrell, you have an annoying habit of noticing too many details.”

  Kintrell removed the contents of the envelope. There were six sheets of paper containing an itemized bill from Roddy, for $68,742. There was also a note that read:

  “No rush, anytime within the next sixteen or eighteen hours will do. Love and Kisses Roddy. P.S. I agree, the Israeli method
of knife fighting is superior.” Attached below the P.S. was a smiley face with a knife sticking out of one eye.

  Kintrell laughed. “That little bastard had someone surveilling us the whole time. He was protecting us, and we never picked up on it.”

  “Well, uh …”

  “Well, what?” said Kintrell.

  “He wasn’t actually protecting us, so much as protecting his investment. If you got uh, eliminated, he wouldn’t be getting paid.”

  Kintrell thought about it for a minute then started laughing again. “You’re right, and that little bastard probably charged me for the time he was protecting his investment.”

  “Absolutely,” Stryker laughed. “I told you he was no dummy.”

  “Good guy to know,” said Kintrell, still chuckling.

  “You know, Norm, none of this would have been possible without your help. I wish there was something I could do to repay you.”

  “Well, we could revisit the adoption issue,” said Stryker.

  “What would the neighbors say?” said Kintrell, laughing.

  Chapter 35

  January 12th, Floor of the House.

  The Speaker gaveled the House to silence. He then proceeded to award Special Agent Dixon the Congressional Gold Medal for thwarting the attack on Congress. The Speaker also honored T.J. Worthington and the CIRG team that took part in the action. He also mentioned the contributions of a Philadelphia Police Lieutenant Norman Lockwood Stryker, who for some reason could not be present, as well as Agent Laneva Alvarez, who also could not be present.

  January 14th, Office of Special Agent in Charge, Diane McGriff

  Agent Laneva Alvarez was ushered into the office.

  “How are you feeling, Lanny?” asked Dede.

  “I’m fine, Boss, and ready to get back to work. Where’s Kintrell?”

  “He and Agent Dixon will be here in the next half or so.”

  “Agent Dixon? Why is he going to be here?”

  “Lanny, I wanted to prepare you. I don’t think Agent Kintrell will be with us too much longer.”

  “What? Why? If it wasn’t …”

  “I know, Lanny. But certain things were done that can’t be condoned. If it were my decision … but it’s not.”

  “A whole bunch of people would be dead now if it wasn’t for him.”

  “Yes, that’s true and that’s the reason he won’t be prosecuted,” said Dede.

  “Prosecuted?”

  “Lanny, we both know he broke a number of laws.”

  “But …”

  “Lanny, don’t make this harder than it already is. He’s going to be given a choice and I believe he’ll resign.”

  “What choice?”

  “I can’t get into that with you, Lanny, but please believe me when I tell you, it’s for the best. Tom will be alright.”

  “That idiot Dixon gets an award for what? He did nothing but get in the way of this investigation. His own assistant was sharing information with the perpetrators and Kintrell gets the boot? This really sucks, Dede!”

  “Lanny, you’re a damn good agent with a bright future. I don’t want any fallout to hit you on this, and Tom wouldn’t either. Now please go, and remember what I’ve told you.”

  Alvarez left the office in a huff.

  ***

  Agent Dixon, accompanied by his new assistant, entered Dede’s office.

  Kintrell entered a short time later.

  Dixon cleared his throat. “No sense beating around the bush here, Agent Kintrell. Certain … ah things were done without approval, laws were broken …”

  “What do you want, Dixon?” asked Kintrell.

  “I, that is, the Bureau, certainly doesn’t want the scandal that would accompany a high-profile trial of one of its agents. Not only would this be detrimental to the Bureau and the agent, but also to anyone who assisted said agent in these illegal acts. A certain policeman and a private citizen who carried out these illegal wire taps would be at risk, as well as said agent’s partner.”

  “And if I resign?” said Kintrell.

  “Then any further action or investigation into these matters would cease,” said Dixon.

  “And I’m supposed to take your word on this?” said Kintrell.

  “Agent Kintrell, I’m a witness to this and I will prepare a memo of the conversation that took place here today. I think I can say, unequivocally, the Bureau wants this to go away as much as you do,” said Dede.

  “In that case, I now formally resign my position as an agent of the FBI.” Kintrell handed over his creds. He then pulled his gun out, ejected the magazine and racked the slide, making sure there wasn’t a chambered round in the weapon. He then laid the piece on Dede’s desk.

  “Are we finished here, Agent Dixon?” said Dede.

  “Yes, I believe that does it, Agent McGriff,” said Dixon.

  “Good, now get the fuck out of my office and remember, I know what really happened with this investigation,” said Dede.

  Dixon, taken aback, was about to say something, thought better of it, then left the office, his assistant scurrying behind him.

  Kintrell laughed. “Better watch your back with that snake, Dede.”

  “There’s nothing he can do to me, Tom. Another year and I’ll be out of here and that fool doesn’t want certain facts to come to light. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that nothing happens to Lanny.”

  Kintrell hugged her. “Thanks, Dede. It was a pleasure working for you.”

  “I will miss you terribly, you insubordinate, hard-headed rogue. Now get out of here before I start crying.”

  Chuckling, Kintrell kissed her on the cheek and walked out of her office.

  As soon as Kintrell left, Dede punched in the number on her cell.

  “Yes?”

  “He should be leaving in the next few minutes. He doesn’t have a vehicle, so he’ll most likely exit through the front door.”

  “Thank you.”

  After disconnecting the call, Dede turned to look out at the Philadelphia skyline. What a world we live in.

  ***

  Kintrell stopped in Alvarez’s office.

  He smiled when he saw her. She fell into his arms and held him tightly. “Damn it, Tom, damn it.”

  “Hey, it’s okay, Lanny. I need a vacation anyway.”

  She pulled back and looked at him then. He could see the tears forming.

  “Ah Jeez …”

  She kissed him then. After the shock wore off, he kissed her back hungrily, passionately.

  When they finally broke apart, she said, “I want you to come to me tonight, Tom.”

  “What about your … er, injuries?”

  “We’ll work around them,” said Lanny.

  They embraced again and Kintrell said, “I’ll bring some wine.”

  “Make it champagne, Daddy Warbucks,” said Lanny.

  Kintrell chuckled as he left her office.

  ***

  Kintrell realized then he didn’t have a car to drive, so he exited the building via the front door.

  As he left the building, he noticed a large black SUV parked at the curb. He turned left and started up the street. The SUV followed him. He could feel the vehicle moving behind him. He glanced at the vehicle as it pulled abreast of him. The rear window of the vehicle started down. Kintrell reached for his piece then remembered he didn’t have it anymore. He quickly turned and hurried to the back of the vehicle, out of the line of fire, when he heard, “Agent Kintrell, I just want to talk with you.”

  “Who wants to talk to me?” said Kintrell.

  A hand came out the window holding a business card. The name on the card was Jonathan G. Decker. Director of an agency Kintrell never heard of.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Decker?” said Kintrell

  “Please get in the car, Agent Kintrell. If nothing else, I can offer you a ride home.”

  Intrigued, Kintrell walked around the rear of the car and entered the back seat. Facing him was a man Kintrell judged to be in h
is mid-sixties, with a shock of silver white hair and greenish blue eyes.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Agent Kintrell,” said the man.

  Kintrell shook the extended hand and said, “It’s just Mister Kintrell now.”

  “Yes, I know. Pity for them, Good for me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Mr. Kintrell, my agency has need of a man with your particular skill set. Our mandate is out of the scope of most, if not all of this country’s intelligence services. We’ve been made aware of what actually happened in Washington, and why there was a successful conclusion to that matter. Had you been working for us, you would have been lauded for your actions, not kicked to the curb. We’re looking for a certain type of man. One who puts the mission above all else. You have distinguished yourself in that vein.”

  “How do you know what went down in D.C.?” said Kintrell.

  “Let’s just say you have friends in high places. We know, for example, what happened in New York, and also why you left the Seals,” said Decker.

  “At the risk of sounding cloyingly inappropriate, Director Decker, quit blowing smoke up my ass, and tell me what you want with me,” said Kintrell.

  Director Decker, eyebrows raised, threw his head back and laughed, a full throaty, un-self-conscious laugh. Kintrell looked at the director and started to laugh himself.

  “Thomas my boy, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” said the director.

  Epilogue

  Alvarez opened her door to find Kintrell standing there, a bottle of champagne in hand. She kissed him on the cheek as she took the champagne from him. She directed him to a chair in the living room. She went to the kitchen to find glasses and a container to keep the champagne on ice.

  She returned a short while later with the glasses—the champagne in a small plastic bucket, amid ice. Kintrell did the honors with the champagne. After their glasses were charged, they clinked them together, Kintrell saying, “Slainte.”