Necessary Retribution (3 page)

“Who are we going to get to do this?”

“Grassley gave me a referral for a construction company.” Robin pulled a card from the inside pocket of his sport coat and handed it to Ernie. “KBR construction. Bill says they can be trusted to do the job and keep quiet. That's the number for our contact in the company.”

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“I've just designated you our contractor liaison.”

“I don't know jack shit about construction!”

“It's time you learned. Besides, it's either contractor liaison or you run the regional recruiting. I can't do both.”

“Okay, okay. I sure as hell don't want to do all that traveling. I'll handle the warehouse.”

“I knew you would see it my way.”

“We've been best friends for a long time, but sometimes I really don't like you, Rob.”

“Yeah, but you always love me.”

Ernie put his arm around Robin's shoulders. “I do, brother. I surely do.”

“Okay guys,” Chucky cut in. “I'm really happy your families are doing well and you love each other, but just what in hell am I supposed to be doing?”

Robin put his arm around Chucky's shoulders. “You're the most important man on the team.”

“Yeah, right, Rob.”

“You are, Chucky, because you're our front man.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can't apply for permits, business licenses and official things. We're officially dead. So we need you to do those things and be the face man for the company.”

“That doesn't sound like fun. I thought you said I'd be helping protect the national security of the United States.”

“Being the front man for the company is just part of your job. The other part is to connect with your former associates in international crime.”

Chucky's face brightened. “Now that sounds better, but you're confusing me. Whose side are we on?”

“That will depend on what we're doing, but whatever it is, we'll need all the contacts we can get.”

Chucky grinned from ear to ear. “Rob, this could be the start of a beautiful relationship.”

The Guardians were gathered in the conference room at the warehouse. Robin could tell everyone was antsy and ready to go to work. He was finishing explaining the plan for organizing the company and the intelligence operation.

“Basically, Burke and Rocky are going to split the world in half. Burke will take Europe, Africa and Canada. Rocky will take Asia, the Middle East and South America. Ernie and I will cover the U.S. and Mexico. We already have a worldwide list of potential contacts with the CIA stamp of approval. All of them are disabled military or law enforcement, but each team will run a background, and investigate the potential contact by reputation and surveillance.”

“Are these guys going to be part of our company?” Mark Warren asked.

“Yes, their primary job will be to find interesting products for us to import and markets for our American products. They'll also set up networks for product gathering and distribution.”

“What about the other side of the business?” Emmett asked.

“They'll be our in-country experts and our channels to contact reliable assets during our operations. We want to be damn sure they're reliable and have the integrity we need. Once you complete your investigation, I come in and close the deal. Any questions?” No one spoke up. “All right, Burke and Rocky get moving. We're burning daylight.”

T
HREE

ON A PLEASANT FALL EARLY AFTERNOON
in Le Crotoy, France, Robin sipped coffee at an outside table of the Les Tourelles Hotel. He looked out over the sandy estuary where the River Somme met the English Channel and breathed in the moist, salty air. The bright sun warmed the cool fall air. The man he waited for limped around the corner and eased his large frame into a chair at his usual table facing the estuary. The limp came from an AK-47 round that shattered his left femur during the French Foreign Legion's campaign in Chad. Robin thought how close he had come to having a similar wound. The limp distracted a casual observer from realizing the man was in peak physical condition. He didn't acknowledge Robin's presence, but Robin knew he'd already been spotted by alert, intelligent eyes set deep into a face so black it wouldn't need camo paint on a full moon night.

Robin rose and walked over to the other man. “Hello, I've been waiting for you.”

“Rubbish, you people have been watching me for three days.” The deep, mellow voice carried a British accent.

At the same time two men moved closer to them. They were intercepted in a non-threatening way by Burke Jameson and Mike Collins. The other man noticed the contact.

“Actually, we've been watching you for three weeks.”

The man's eyes flashed surprise.

“Oh, it's true.” Robin smiled in a friendly manner. “We're very good at what we do. We've followed you despite the recent efforts of
your fellow Legionnaires, but I'm happy to see the Legion's legendary emergency number still works. May I join you?”

The Legionnaire waved Robin to a chair at his table.

“My name is Robin Marlette. I'll get to the point. I want to offer you a job.”

The Legionnaire's eyebrows lifted.

“It's a legitimate job,” Robin added.

“No danger?”

“It can get as dangerous as you want, I suppose.”

“Why me?”

“My company only hires former military and law enforcement personnel who are disabled because of injuries incurred in the line of duty. So, as a disabled Legionnaire, you meet the first of our criteria. Our background investigation showed you were born in Algiers. You also have worked extensively in the Middle East and Africa. The company can use your expertise and connections.

“The company?”

“You're also fluent in five languages.” Robin continued, leaving the question hanging in the air between them. “Most importantly, you have integrity.”

“How did you find me?”

“You were recommended to us.”

“By who?”

“Is that important?”

“Not really. Are you CIA?”

“No. I am the CEO of an export/import and services company.”

The other man laughed. “You have been reading too much James Bond. What do you import and export?”

“Anything where we can legitimately make a buck.”

The Legionnaire gave a quizzical look.

“Sorry, anything that makes a dollar, a franc, a pound…we're in business to make money.”

The Legionnaire nodded. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Robin long and hard.

“Do I have to leave France?”

“We prefer you relocate to the Middle East.”

“I have no desire to leave here.”

Robin shrugged. “Your base salary will be two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year plus commissions.”

The Legionnaire's eyes grew wide as he leaned forward.

“That should be enough for you to visit here regularly.”

“How do I get started?”

Robin reached into his coat pocket and handed the Legionnaire an envelope containing an open round trip ticket on the Concord from Paris to New York with a connection to Seattle, accompanied by ten thousand dollars. The Legionnaire reviewed the tickets and thumbed the money without expression. He looked at Robin.

“I will expect you in Seattle, Washington on the twenty-fifth of next month. That should be enough to get you there and back comfortably. Call me when you get to New York. We'll show you the company and our operations. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes.” The Legionnaire allowed his voice to show he was impressed. “Will you join me in a bottle of wine?”

“Shall we include our friends?”

“By all means.”

Robin signaled to Burke as the Legionnaire called the cafe owner over to the table. “Henri, four bottles of your best Medoc and six glasses, please.”

The six men drank wine and enjoyed the conversation of men who have lived lives filled with danger. Robin ordered lunch. Jonathan Marchaux, the Legionnaire, was the last of this stage of country contact recruitments.

Robin came out of the bathroom of the room at the Les Tourelles where he and Karen were staying and saw Karen looking out the window. She wore a light dress with bare shoulders and arms. The late afternoon sun shone through the dress and outlined her figure. He walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“I just know I love it when you tell me I'm beautiful.”

“You're beautiful.” Robin nuzzled her neck and his hands moved to her breasts.

“Oh my, are you getting fresh with me?”

“I have a proposal.”

“What might that be?”

“Let's have dessert before dinner.”

Karen turned to face him and kissed him deeply. “I think that's a wonderful idea. I can get used to this globetrotting lifestyle, Mr. Marlette.”

“Hopefully, we can bring Laurie and Eddie on some trips next summer.”

Karen gave Robin a concerned look. “How long do you think it will be before Bill starts giving the team missions?”

Robin took a deep breath. “It could happen anytime now. The CIA has invested a lot of training and money getting the team set-up and ready, not to mention keeping us all out of prison for going into Mexico and raiding Rodriquez's compound. They'll be wanting a return on their investment soon.”

Karen held Robin tightly. “I'm scared, Rob. I know this is going to be more dangerous than police work. I'm worried the CIA will start to rely on you and the team to solve a lot of serious problems.”

Robin started to say something, but Karen put her fingers on his lips.

“Don't try to bullshit me, Rob. I feel the same worry in you and I see it your eyes.”

Robin deflated. “You're right. I am worried. All I can say is the team is ready. We've had the best training from the best units in the business and we have the best equipment I know of. We'll have to take it one day and one mission at a time.”

Karen kissed Robin and ran her hand through his hair. “Thank you for being honest with me. Keep it that way. Trying to protect me from knowing the bad things just makes it worse.”

“Okay, kiddo, I'll you give the straight scoop all of the time. Just remember this conversation.”

“All right, I've said my piece. I'm ready for dessert.”

Robin looked over the people assembled in the company's conference room. Worldwide Enterprises, Inc. actually lived up to its name; fifty-two men and women from all nationalities, cultures and color. The regret of being forced to disappear from his job with the Arizona Department of Public Safety's Narcotics Special Enforcement Unit faded as he found the new challenges interesting and exciting.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention.” It wasn't a request, but a gentle command. “As you know, we've recruited all of you to facilitate our import/export and tactical services business. We want you to also identify markets in your areas for American products.” A few chuckles filtered through the group.

“Your secondary job is to be prepared to provide us with contact assets and in-country logistical support for tactical operations in which we may engage on behalf of our clients.” A murmur of approval filtered through the room.

“Let's get something straight. We are a legitimate business group. The more products and markets you identify and develop, the more money you can make. If you take this aspect of our company seriously, you can become millionaires or even multi-millionaires.” A loud rustle filtered through the room. “We want you to be successful because the richer you become, the more contacts you make. The more contacts you make, the more influential you become. We have some very demanding clients. They will ask us to do some difficult things. We'll need your contacts and support.”