Smooth Operator (Teddy Fay) (16 page)

D
id you kill Ann Keaton’s boyfriend?” Stone Barrington asked accusingly.

Teddy paused. “Ann’s boyfriend had an accident,” he said eventually. “His car went off a bridge. These things happen. How did you know about that anyway?”

“Ann called me last night, hysterical, because her boyfriend was killed in an accident. Only it wasn’t an accident, was it? These things don’t just happen. You
make
them happen.”

“It really was an accident. Maybe not a car wreck, but close enough.”

“Teddy.”

“Ann’s boyfriend was a mercenary, hired to pump her for information.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“He’s the answer to the million-dollar question of how those
guys got on to you so fast. The President tells Ann to get Stone Barrington. Ann breaks a date with lover boy to set it up and babysit the congressman whose seat you took. That’s how they knew.”

“He told you that?”

“He wouldn’t tell me anything. He was one of those handsome, dumb, arrogant types who think they can walk on water. If he hadn’t tried to kill me, he’d still be alive.”

“If you wanted him to be, he’d still be alive. Wasn’t he worth keeping around just to pump for information?”

“He didn’t have any. He was a low-level functionary who didn’t even know who hired him. He wasn’t going to give us anything. On the other hand, he could blow our whole covert operation just by telling the wrong people what we’re asking.”

“So you set him up.”

Teddy shrugged. “Maybe a little.”

Stone sighed and shook his head. “Take it easy, will you? You’re leaving a trail of bodies in your wake.”

“That’s the nature of the beast.”

“Even so. Sooner or later someone’s going to notice.”

M
ike Freeman pulled to a stop behind the row of police cars lining the top of the bluff. He spotted his friend on the force and wandered over.

“Where is he?”

“Down there.”

Down there was the base of the cliff where the body had been discovered floating in the bay. No one much wanted to climb down, and the cops were all standing around waiting for the gurney to be hoisted up by the crane on the wrecker ordered by the emergency rescue team. Not that there was any rescuing to be done. The man was way past help. The body was merely being retrieved for the cops.

Mike walked up to the edge of the cliff, looked over, and saw the gurney bumping up the side of the canyon wall far below. He felt slightly queasy, and backed away from the edge.

The cop grinned at him. “Join the club. No one wants to supervise the hoist. We all decided we could damn well wait.”

The gurney cleared the edge of the cliff. The crane swung it over and set it down.

Homicide detectives were waiting to pounce. They were beaten out by the doctor, who somehow managed to insert himself next to the gurney and look just as if he’d ridden up with it. Mike figured that was probably for the benefit of the TV cameras.

Mike squeezed in as close as he could. He wanted to see for himself if it was really Carlo Gigante. It certainly figured to be. His goons had been found dead next to his car in the Palm Palace parking lot. They were unlikely to have been killed for their own sake. Their boss’s corpse could not be far behind.

“That looks like him from his picture,” Mike said. “Is it him?”

The cop looked. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Thanks.”

Mike whipped out his cell phone and called Stone Barrington.

—

TEDDY RELAYED
the information to Holly Barker.

“He took out Carlo Gigante?” Holly said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Either he thought Carlo could lead us to him, or he’s just plain mean.”

“Do you think Gigante knew his address?”

“No.”

“So the odds favor just plain mean.”

“That’s the interesting thing about the West Coast connection. He, of all people, is the most likely card-carrying terrorist.”

“Why do you say that?” Holly said.

“He has links to extremists. When they needed a hit man on short notice, he had no problem coming up with an ISIS recruit, the student from UCLA.”

“He also hired Gigante.”

“He’s open-minded. He doesn’t discriminate. The point is he has the connections. Our East Coast kidnapper only seems to hire American thugs.”

“Except for the shooter.”

“He’s the exception that proves the rule. But he kind of has to be. If you want an assassin, you need to train your own sniper.”

“Unless he’s an embittered Iraq War vet with post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Teddy shrugged. “That would fit in with the veterans aid bill. But we’ve pretty well established that the shooter is the man in the surveillance footage.”

Holly exhaled. “We keep going around in circles.”

“Yes, but we’re picking up stuff on every turn. And we’re throwing monkey wrenches into their machinery. We may be frustrated by our progress, but I doubt if these guys are very happy with how things are going either.”

A
bdul-Hakim bit the bullet and made the call. “I heard from our contact on the West Coast. There was a leak. It’s been plugged.”

Calvin Hancock’s voice was cold. “That is not what I want to hear.”

“No, it’s good news. That idiot Gigante cracked and gave up my contact. Before it could come back to bite us, my contact stepped in and shut him up.”

“Gigante?”

“Yes.”

“We lost our source on the coast?”

“We have several. We lost one. It shouldn’t matter at this point.”

“We also lost our source in the White House.”

“He was no use to us. We’d already pulled the plug.”

“That’s not the point. The point is we’re being outplayed. As long as that’s the case, we’re not in charge. I like to be in charge.”

“I know.”

“What was that?” Calvin said sharply.

“I agree. It’s bad. What do you want to do?”

“The Speaker hasn’t budged since you hung up on him. He hasn’t been back to the White House. He hasn’t been on TV.”

“Do you want me to nudge him again?”

“It will do no good. Someone sold him on demanding proof of life. We can’t get into a game of calling each other’s bluff. I need the Speaker in my pocket. People are going to start pushing him, hard. I need him standing firm, or this whole thing collapses.”

“I understand,” Abdul-Hakim said. “What do you want me to do?”

A
bdul-Hakim pulled up in front of the cabin. He took the copy of the
Washington Post
off the passenger seat, got out, and went up the step. The front door was unlocked. He pushed it open, stepped inside.

The big man was sitting on the couch playing solitaire. He seemed to be lost in concentration. He glanced up at Abdul-Hakim and went back to his game.

“Where is she?”

He waved his hand without even looking up. “Back there.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’s hurt, she’s weak, there’s nowhere to go. She’s tied up, too.”

“With rope?”

“Yeah.”

Abdul-Hakim walked across the room and parted the curtain that served as a door, and looked in the back room.

Karen lay on the mattress on the floor. She was not in good shape. Her finger had become infected, and she was running a fever. She was curled up in a fetal position and her eyes were closed, as if trying to will the world away.

Abdul-Hakim stepped back into the front room. “Get her up.”

The big man looked at him. “Huh?”

“Get her up and bring her out.”

“You don’t want to just do her in there?”

Abdul-Hakim took a breath. “I’m not shooting her. Just get her up.”

The big man grunted and heaved a sigh. He set the deck of cards on the table and clambered to his feet from the low couch. He pushed his way through the curtain and into the back room.

He had a paranoid flash that the girl was gone, that it was like the old joke where the customer tells the waiter to try the soup and there’s no spoon. But, no, there she was, just like he had left her.

He bent down and rolled her over. “Get up.”

She rolled back and curled up, facing away.

The big man wasn’t putting up with that nonsense. He hefted her up, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her out.

“I said get her up, not lift her up,” Abdul-Hakim said. “I need her awake. Untie her.”

The big man flopped her on the couch and took the ropes off.

“Stand her up.”

He wrestled her to her feet, but she didn’t stand, just hung like deadweight.

There was a pitcher of water next to the washbasin. Abdul-Hakim picked it up, tossed it in Karen’s face.

“Hey. That’s my water.”

“You’ll get more tomorrow.”

Karen blew water out of her mouth, blinked her eyes, glared up at the two men.

“Good, you’re awake,” Abdul-Hakim said.

Karen sagged in the big man’s arms.

“Can you stand? You’re not going to like it if you can’t. Stand her up.”

The big man pulled her up straight.

“Let go of her.”

He did.

Karen fell to the floor.

“Stand her up again.”

He dragged her to her feet.

“You like falling on the floor? We’re going to keep standing you up until you don’t. It’s not that I think you’re faking. I think you’re not trying. Let her go.”

Karen swayed, but stayed on her feet.

“Good.”

Abdul-Hakim took the copy of the
Washington Post
, thrust it into her hands. “Hold it up. Next to your face. Not in front of your face, next to it. Straighten it out so the date shows.”

Karen held the paper.

Abdul-Hakim whipped out his cell phone, snapped the picture. He checked the phone to make sure it would do. He nodded. “Put her back.”

The big man scooped her up, carried her into the back room.

Abdul Hakim punched the number into the phone and forwarded the photo to Congressman Blaine.

K
evin Cushman, aka Warplord924, burst into Holly’s office. “We got it!”

Holly looked up in surprise. So did the director of Homeland Security, with whom she was meeting.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Kevin said. “I didn’t realize someone was here. I fixed that computer virus I couldn’t isolate, but I won’t bother you with that now.”

Kevin ducked back into the computer room, closing the door behind him.

Holly barely listened while the director of Homeland Security droned on. The issue was access to the President, which he wasn’t getting. Holly wished he wasn’t getting access to her.

Finally she managed to ease him out the door. She hurried to see what was up with Kevin.

“All right, what’s so damn important?” she demanded.

Kevin pointed at the computer screen. On it was an enlargement of the cell phone photo Abdul-Hakim had taken of Karen Blaine. The resolution was high, the date on the paper was clear.

“This photo was just forwarded to Speaker Blaine. Along with the text message
Pass the bill
. The picture was sent from an unlisted cell phone approximately seventy-five miles northwest of here. It was clearly taken in a cabin of some sort. There are woodlands in that area where a cabin might be.”

“Can you pin it down?”

“Not with any accuracy. You’re talking about a ten-mile radius, if you’re lucky. It could be more. And there’s no guarantee the photo was sent from where it was taken.”

“Is there anything helpful in the photo itself?”

“Not that I can tell. The cabin’s pretty bare. You can only tell it’s a cabin because the walls are unfinished. It’s not insulated, which means it’s not heated at all, unless there’s a wood-burning fireplace. So there’s probably no running water. If there is, it’s shut off in the winter. Of course, the whole cabin would be shut down in the winter.”

“Does any of that help pinpoint the location?”

“No.”

Teddy came in and Kevin went through the whole spiel again.

“All right,” Teddy said. “We still can’t find her, but at least we know she’s alive.”

“It’s a twenty-mile area,” Holly said. “We could flood it with agents.”

“The girl would be dead before they were even briefed. There’s no such thing as a clandestine operation. If we move against these people, they’ll know it.”

“We can’t do nothing.”

“We’re not. We’re playing their game. And they blinked. They want this to happen. Why, we don’t know, but they want it enough to keep the girl alive. If we keep pressing them for proof, we can keep them on the defensive, and help pin the location down.”

“Yeah, but how can we do that?” Holly said. “The Speaker doesn’t contact them, they contact him.”

“Right. We’d have to make them want something.”

“What could they possibly want?”

“An explanation,” Teddy said. “We’d have to get the Speaker to do something they didn’t ask him to do.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. The guy’s a basket case. I don’t know how he’s holding it together.”

The phone rang. They looked around, but it was on the computer. A call to Speaker Blaine’s phone.

“Oh, my God,” Holly said. “Do you suppose we just got lucky?”

The Speaker answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

It wasn’t the kidnappers. That was clear from the opening line.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Who is this?”

“Who is this? You don’t recognize my voice?”

“Herman?”

“Who else would it be?” Herman Foster said. “And do you know what I’m doing? I’m making one of those calls we always make when there’s about to be a crucial vote. I just never expected to be making one to you.”

“Herman—”

“Guess who I just got a call from? Calvin Hancock. He read me the riot act, told me to get you in line. That’s a good one, isn’t it? When
I
have to tell
you
.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly well. You want a bipartisan vote. I couldn’t believe the words were coming out of your mouth. Well, it’s not too late to fix it. All you have to do is go on TV, explain your previous statement, and urge us to kill the bill. Just like that, you’ll be back in charge.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Oh, is that right? Well, you better make it that easy. If this bill passes, everyone will be blaming you.”

—

HERMAN FOSTER
hung up the phone, looked at the man sitting across from him. “How was that?”

Calvin Hancock leaned back in his desk chair. “That’s perfect, Herman,” Calvin said. “The Speaker’s getting too big for his britches, putting his interests above the party. No one is
above the party. Are you ready to come down on him again if I give the call?”

“Of course.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I hope so, too. But if it does, I’m ready.”

Calvin got to his feet, extended his hand. “Good man.”

Herman Foster accepted his dismissal with good grace. One always did with Calvin Hancock. The best strategy was to figure out what the man wanted, and get there first. Herman had done it well enough to have been bankrolled in the last two elections. He exited the room, closing the heavy wood door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Calvin Hancock snatched up the phone, punched in a number.

The call was answered on the first ring.

“Yes?” Abdul-Hakim said.

“Start Phase Two.”