Deja Vu (8 page)

“You burned Jellicoe, Span,” Yantzy said. “Did you really think he’d take that lying down? The guy is an expert at black ops, covert ops, and all other kinds of ops. Once you burned him and left him out in the cold, he went to ground just the way Frank said. Now he’s going to burn other agents, and I’m not taking the fall for you and your ego.”

“Once again, I agree with Director Yantzy,” Frank said.

“I think we all know what happened, gentlemen. You have left me no other choice; so listen closely to what I am about to tell you. I am giving you thirty days. T-h-i-r-t-y days to track down and capture Mr. Jellicoe. If on the thirty-first day that has not happened, I will expect your resignations on my desk at first light. Now, I suggest you all go somewhere and have a talk and agree to agree and start from there. That means whatever agency asks the other for something, it is to be given what it needs. All three of you can call here twenty-four seven to apprise me of failure or success on any agency’s part. Thirty days, not one second longer.”

Elias Cummings looked around at his colleagues, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting there. The three directors looked like they were wondering the same thing but wisely refrained from asking.

The president solved the problem by saying, “Mr. Cummings, I’m sure you are puzzled as to why I invited you to this meeting. Suffice it to say, I had a reason. Mitch Riley, your predecessor, who belonged to the previous administration, if I recall correctly, kept dossiers on just about everyone in the world, including Henry Jellicoe. My memory is telling me that Mr. Riley’s wife turned those files over when the special agents arrested him. Do you happen to know who has those files at this point in time, Mr. Cummings?”

Nellie is going to love this.
Elias cleared his throat, aware of the eyes on him. Was that a smile tugging at the corners of the president’s mouth? It sure looked like a smile to him. “Actually, Madam President, I know who had them at the time. I can’t be certain of their whereabouts at this moment in time, however.”

“Do you recall seeing those files, reading them?”

“Yes, Madam President. However, I was not allowed to copy them. I have to admit I was impressed with the thoroughness of each and every one of those dossiers. I do remember a file on Mr. Jellicoe and it was
thick,
twice the size of the other dossiers. I remember thinking at the time that Riley put J. Edgar to shame with the thoroughness of the material he obtained. It was downright scary as I recall.”

Director Yantzy stood up and bellowed, “What the hell do you mean you weren’t allowed to copy those files? They are FBI property! I should have them. What? What? You let some creep bamboozle you? That creep let you look at them, then walked off with them, and you didn’t arrest that person! I don’t believe I’m hearing what I’m hearing.”

Elias shrugged. “You weren’t there at the time, Director Yantzy. I had no other choice.”

“Everyone has choices, even a director of the FBI. Who the hell has those files? I want a name, and I damn well want it now. If you don’t give it up, I’ll damn well arrest you myself, right here and now, for obstructing justice.”

“Stop blustering, Director Yantzy. You are not going to arrest anyone. If you try, then I will have to give Mr. Cummings immunity. Stop grandstanding. Mr. Cummings, tell us who had those files.”

“The vigilantes.”

Cleo barked at the loud declaration. The president smiled.

A chorus of “Oh, shit!” echoed around the room.

Span stood up and bellowed that he was going to haul in each and every one of the vigilantes and sweat them till they gave up the files.

“Those files belong to the FBI, and you are not going to sweat anyone on our behalf,” Yantzy bellowed in return, his face brick red. He also reminded Span that the CIA had no jurisdiction within the United States and that any attempt on its part to engage in the sort of illegal behavior he had just spoken of would lead to the arrest of any member of the CIA involved, up to and including the director.

“No one is going to arrest or sweat anyone. The vigilantes now have full immunity, along with their pardons, from all of their … ah … ventures. I personally guaranteed that in writing before setting up this meeting. My name and seal are on every single piece of paper granting them that immunity. Having said that, you are free to contact Lizzie Fox, who represented the vigilantes. If you want to go a few rounds with her, feel free. I want to warn all of you right now, if I hear so much as a squeak that any of you or your agents or anyone representing your agents or your respective agencies goes after those women, I will personally see to it that you will begin to serve your golden years in a federal penitentiary.

“I think we’re finished here, gentlemen. Remember, thirty days. Oh, one other thing.” Suddenly, the president had the full attention of everyone in the room, even Cleo. “You are not to harass, call, write, or in any way bother Mr. Cummings. He has told us all he knows. I am giving him full immunity as of ten minutes ago.”

The president stood up, and motioned to Cleo, who looked up at her and tilted her head like she was trying to tell her something. Because she didn’t know what to do, the president nodded as Cleo trotted around the table to where Elias Cummings was seated. She offered up her paw and barked.

Elias leaned over, took the big dog’s paw in his hand, and shook it. He whispered, “You take good care of that lady, you hear?”

“Woof.”

The moment the shepherd was at her side, the president turned, and said, “Thank you for coming, gentlemen. Someone will be here shortly to escort you out of the building.”

The moment the door closed behind the president the language turned ripe and foul. All eyes were on Elias Cummings, who simply stared at the three angry men. “This room is bugged, you all know that, right?” Elias laughed at the instant silence that suddenly surrounded him.

Just as the door opened, Elias decided he wanted to have the last word. “You three remind me of the Three Stooges. Not only do you look like them, you act like them.”

“Oh, yeah, and who the hell do you think you are?” Span hissed.

“I’m the guy that dog liked.” Elias laughed, a great booming sound that echoed around the room. “I wish you could see how stupid the three of you look right now. You don’t get it, do you? Well, when you have nothing to do, think on it, maybe something will come to you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Cummings?” Span snarled as they made their way out of the room.

“You’re supposed to be the best of the best in this damn wacky city. Figure it out.”

“Crazy old coot!” Yantzy growled.

“Yeah, but this crazy old coot has full immunity and you Three Stooges only have thirty days!”

“Son of a bitch!” Frank bellowed just as a Secret Service agent clamped his hand over his upper arm.

“A problem,
sir?”

“Not at all. I’m just a bit wired. Coming here to this prestigious address makes me go haywire. No problem at all.”

The moment Elias settled himself in his car, he whipped out his cell phone, powered up, and called Bert. “I know you’re all tailing me. Meeting is over. Meet me at the Dog and Duck and bring the boys. I have a story to tell you that will curl your hair. By the way, I’m buying. We could even do dinner if you’re all up to it.” He powered down, shoved the gearshift into first, and sailed out of the lot. He was laughing so hard he could hardly catch his breath. Damn, maybe this retirement gig wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Chapter 7

D
irector Yantzy looked up at Director Span.

He had to admit, he looked pretty damn good for a guy who’d just recovered from serious heart surgery. He was lean, athletic, with a full head of hair, unless they were plugs. Yantzy knew that the CIA chief wore contacts because he could see his reflection in the glassy orbs. He was dressed in a nice summer suit that probably cost more than Yantzy made in a couple of months. Rumor had it that his wife had money. Obviously, they shared it. And Span drove a hundred-thousand-dollar Range Rover while he himself tooled around in a nondescript Bureau vehicle.

“I guess we better do what the lady ordered,” Span said tightly.

“Don’t you mean the president? Are you suggesting the three of us go for a drink or coffee?”

“Count me out,” Frank said. “I’m coaching a Little League game at six, and I have to get on the road. I’m in no mood for the blame game. The two of you know where I stand on Hank Jellicoe.” Without another word, the Secretary of Homeland Security headed toward his car, a maroon Ford Taurus that looked like it had some heavy-duty mileage on it.

Span shrugged. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Yantzy. I’m up for a cup of coffee. Let’s do the Dog and Duck. It’s just down the block. My agents tell me it’s a decent place to eat. Peculiar that Cummings bolted so quickly. Guess
she
put your ass in a sling, eh? You look like you’re smarting a bit.”

Yantzy drew himself up to his full height, which was six two, and snarled over his shoulder, “I’d rather be smarting than have six men’s deaths on my conscience!”

Span had no comment as he made his way to his Range Rover and climbed in. “Son of a fucking bitch!” Like he really needed that shit right then. He drove carelessly as he made his way to the parking lot of the Dog and Duck. The only reason he was even bothering to go to some half-assed little meeting was that he knew he was being watched.

Twenty minutes later, having parked his Rover himself rather than allowing some lamebrained valet to do so, Span got out of the vehicle and made his way to the entrance, where Yantzy was waiting for him. They hissed and snarled at each other in low tones, but their expressions left no doubt to anyone who was watching them that both men preferred to be somewhere other than that particular watering hole.

Inside, seated in a dark leather booth, Yantzy gave his order to a waitress dressed in yellow boots that obviously had something to do with a duck. “A double order of spring rolls with the mango sauce and a glass of ice tea.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll have a salmon burger with no condiments and a house salad. Mineral water, please.”

Span decided to go first and open the dialogue. “Look, regardless of what you think of the Agency and me personally, I want you to know I am doing everything possible, just as my agents are, to bring in Jellicoe. If you think I’m blowing off my agents’ deaths, think again. They’re with me night and day, and before you can ask, no, I am not sleeping.

“You’re right, we burned the bastard. We had to. Did I think he was so over the edge he would start killing my agents? The answer is no, and I have to live with that. We’ll get him, but I don’t know if it will be within the thirty-day timetable.”

“Well, that was informative, Span. How the hell did you let that guy get such a foothold in your Agency, anyway?”

Span reached for his mineral water. “I inherited the son of a bitch from my predecessor. Just the way the president inherited him, and the Bureau inherited him. There’s something personal in the president’s directive. I think she wants to hang him out to dry for what he did to her. I’m not saying she doesn’t want him brought to justice for what he’s done. I’m saying she has a personal agenda where Hank Jellicoe is concerned.”

Yantzy dug in his heels. “I’m not buying that! For Christ’s sake, Span, will you get real here? The president is beyond that kind of petty crap. I never even believed she was engaged to begin with. That’s something the media came up with on a slow news day.”

“I’m not saying you have to buy it. I stated my personal opinion. But let’s get back to Jellicoe and how he wormed his way into the Agency. I compiled a rather thick dossier, and as a show of good faith, I’ll messenger it to your office first thing in the morning. It details his life from the day he started his own business. He worked around the clock, did favors, ingratiated himself with anyone who could help him. It didn’t take that long because the man always delivered on whatever he promised.

“He could cut corners, make things happen that we couldn’t do because our hands were tied legally. I think it’s called plausible deniability. It worked for him, for the Agency, for the president, and he’s been through four presidents. Likewise three directors, not counting me, at the CIA. As long as the job got done, whatever that job was, everyone was happy. Including me. He was the Pentagon’s Golden Boy. He got every lucrative contract there was and then some. I’m laying it out for you and not making excuses.”

Yantzy looked down at his steaming spring rolls, and then across at Span. “Okay, I can accept that. I’ll look forward to receiving the file tomorrow. How thick is thick?”

Span grimaced. “‘Thick’ is a word. Pounds is more like it. I’m talking
boxes.
Six, to be exact. And let me tell you right here and now, we missed the name change. Not me and my agents; the first set missed it back in the day. We had no idea Jellicoe’s real birth name was Andrew Graverson. So you can hang that one on me if you want. My guys or I should have caught it, but we didn’t.”

Yantzy said, “Shit happens. I’ve made my own mistakes where Jellicoe’s concerned. Let’s just call a truce here, okay, Span? Let’s put our heads together and come up with a plan before we find ourselves in the unemployment line. I, for one, happen to like my job, and obviously you like yours since you had a pass after your surgery and didn’t take it but elected to return to head up the Agency. I consider Jellicoe your headache, not mine. He comes under your purview. The Bureau will help if need be. Thirty days isn’t very long. Don Frank is not going to be any help at all. He’s too busy covering his own ass to worry about yours or mine.”

Span poked at his salmon burger. He’d only eaten half of it even though it was good. After his surgery he’d made a pact with himself, and that was to never clean his plate and always walk away a little hungry, and it was working for him. His doctors had told him a little more than a month ago that he was in the best physical shape since his midtwenties, and he intended to stay that way. A pity those damn doctors didn’t evaluate his mental state. He looked around, his eyes going to the mirrored wall. His eyes popped so wide Yantzy looked up, then into the mirror to see what he was seeing, which was Elias Cummings offering up a sloppy salute of sorts.