Smooth Operator (Teddy Fay) (7 page)

I
n her office in the West Wing of the White House, Holly Barker, newly appointed assistant to the president for national security affairs, and former CIA station chief, answered the phone. “Yes?”

“Holly, Lance. Ready for the briefing?”

“I’m ready to be briefed. I’ve got nothing to contribute.”

“No one does. It’s way too early. Unfortunately, that’s not the type of remark the head of the CIA can make with impunity. CIA directors are supposed to know everything the instant it happens.”

“It’s a tough job anytime, Lance. I’m sure it’s tougher now.”

“Yeah. Listen. Something came up. For your eyes only, not to be bandied around.”

“I’m not a gossip, Lance,” Holly said tartly.

“I never said you were.”

“What’s up?”

“You know we found a shell casing on the roof of the building across the street?”

“That much I know.”

“It’s CIA issue.”

“Oh?”

“Like the type we’d issue for a company sniper rifle.”

“Are we admitting to issuing sniper rifles now?”

“Don’t piss me off, Holly. You and I both know someone who spent twenty years issuing exactly that type of equipment to company agents.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Is it possible Teddy Fay’s back?”

“Don’t get paranoid on me, Lance.”

“What is Teddy Fay’s official status?”

“Teddy Fay doesn’t exist.”

“That’s what bothers me. I just looked him up on the mainframe and came up empty. No history, no records.”

“That’s because he was pardoned. His record was wiped clean.”

“Not from
us
! No one deletes
our
records.”

“Clearly they do.”

“I don’t like it. This assassination has Teddy’s MO all over it.”

“Teddy has a new identity and a new life. A second chance. Do you really think he’d risk that just to screw with you?”

“I don’t have all the facts.”

“That’s why you’re grasping at straws. You’re desperate for something to tell the President. Trust me, it’s not Teddy Fay.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It’s impossible, Lance.”

Holly hung up the phone.

Teddy Fay was sitting across the desk from her. He had changed from his James Byrd disguise into the more comfortable persona of Fred Walker. Fred was closer to his age, and had CIA credentials.

Holly hadn’t initially recognized Teddy as agent Fred Walker. He’d had to tell her who he was. But this was not surprising, as Teddy’s gifts with disguise were legendary. Teddy had actually taken Holly to the opera once, at the height of the FBI manhunt, and she’d never suspected the elderly opera enthusiast sitting with her was the object of her chase.

“That was Lance,” Holly said.

“I gathered.”

“He wanted to know if you shot the congressman.”

“Not
that
congressman. Anything else?”

“A spent cartridge believed to come from the sniper’s rifle was CIA issue.”

“Interesting. And that reminds me. I could use some ammunition.”

“Teddy.”

“Relax. I’m here to help.”

“With the assassination?”

“The assassination is the tip of the iceberg.”

“Lance is holding back?”

“Lance doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know what, Teddy? What were you about to tell me when he called?”

“Kate hasn’t told you?”

“Hasn’t told me what?”

“Of course. You couldn’t tell me if she had. We have a very delicate situation under way and everything is on a need-to-know basis. That includes you, and even the President.”

“You didn’t say that includes you.”

“I need to know. At the moment Stone Barrington is the only one who knows everything. I’d bring him in here to vouch for me except he’s being watched.”

“Can I call him?”

“No. His phone was hacked. I destroyed the bug, but we can’t be sure it’s the only one. The President’s in a bad situation. She asked for Stone’s help. He came to me. Now I’m bringing you into the loop. The daughter of the Speaker of the House has been kidnapped. The kidnappers are forcing him to meet with the President and arrange for the passing of the veterans aid bill.”

“And Kate knows this?”

“She’s the only one who does. Even Will doesn’t know.”

“What about Lance?”

“Lance doesn’t know, either. He can’t. If there’s any sign of police or CIA involvement, they’ll kill the girl. There’s been a
leak, but we don’t know from where. If we alert the CIA, the kidnappers will know about it, and the girl is dead.”

“And the assassination?”

“It’s undoubtedly connected. Congressman Drexel was a conservative stumbling block in the way of passing the bill. Anyway, the President was desperate. She didn’t know where to turn, so she brought in Stone. He told the Speaker to demand proof of life next time the kidnappers contact him. He told the President not to do anything, just appear to be moving forward with the bipartisan agenda and he’d take it from there. That’s where I come in.”

“I thought you were done with all this.”

“I owe Stone for the presidential pardon. Plus I owe the President. And this thing is scary. When Stone called me, I was on a movie set in L.A. An hour later someone tried to kill me. I take that personally.

“So that’s the situation. The President’s holding out on you. Now you’re holding out on her. You’re also holding out on Lance and everyone else in the world, with the exception of Stone Barrington. Thank goodness you and he see eye to eye.”

Holly and Stone had been an item once, ironically back in the days when they were hunting Teddy Fay.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Holly continued.

“What’s that?”

“If I can’t tell anybody about this, what do you expect me to do?”

“I’d like to log into the CIA mainframe. They keep installing safeguards to keep me out. I could get through them easy
enough, with the right equipment, but I just don’t have the time. Log on for me, will you?”

“That’s all you want?”

“That would disappoint you? No, Holly, that’s not all I want. You’re CIA, but as the President’s advisor, you’re not responsible to Lance. He can’t give you orders or make you tell him anything, not that he’d know what to ask. But you’re privy to whatever information his investigation turns up. Stone and I need you to coordinate with us and try to figure out what’s going on, because there’s no way it could be as simple as it seems.

“We have to rescue the girl and take the pressure off the congressman. We’re ill equipped to do it. The minute we start looking into her disappearance, the kidnappers will become suspicious and they’ll kill the girl. Of course they’d lose their leverage, but I hate to tout that as the upside.”

“So?”

“So we have to investigate the kidnapping without making any waves. I can’t show up on a college campus and chat up the girls in the dorm without raising a bunch of red flags. I need a young female agent who can pose as a friend of the girl, who hasn’t heard from her in a few days and is concerned. She’s got to be smart, clever, intuitive, personable, and able to blend in. Do you have anyone like that?”

Holly smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

T
eddy Fay took one look at the young woman who walked into Holly Barker’s office in a sheath dress with high heels, studded earrings, hair fastened in a bun, and said, “She won’t do.”

Millie Martindale blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I need someone who can blend in on campus. She looks like she’s going to a cocktail party.”

“Do you have any casual clothes in your office?” Holly said.

“Yes.”

“Go make yourself look like a college student.”

The girl who came back five minutes later looked nothing like the one who’d just left. In a sweater and blue jeans with her
hair down and her makeup off, Millie could have passed for a college coed.

“What do you think?” Holly asked.

“Not bad. I’d say the pencil behind the ear is pushing it, but she’ll do.” Teddy turned to Millie. “Are you CIA?”

“I’m Holly’s personal assistant.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you report to Lance Cabot?”

“No.”

“Do you know Lance?”

“I’ve met him.”

“Does he know you?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t let him see you like that. Can I count on your discretion?”

“Absolutely,” Holly said.

“I’m asking her.”

“I’ll do anything
she
tells me,” Millie said.

“What if she tells you to listen to me?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You have any friends in the CIA?”

“I know a few agents.”

“Are you close friends with any of them?”

“No.”

“She has a friend in the FBI,” Holly volunteered.

“Boyfriend?”

“They have a relationship.”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Quentin Phillips. He worked with us on a joint CIA-FBI operation recently. Good man.”

“I’m sure he is.” Teddy turned to Millie. “Can you freeze him out?”

“Sir?”

“This whole operation is on a need-to-know basis, and he doesn’t need to know. In fact, it could be fatal. I’m not saying you can’t see him, I’m saying you can’t tell him. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“All right,” he said to Holly. “I’ll take her on your say-so because time is tight.” He turned to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Millie Martindale.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Millie,” Teddy said. “I’m Fred Walker. But you didn’t meet me. In fact, this conversation never took place.”

“Is this about the assassination?”

“No. This is about the kidnapping of an undergraduate student from Georgetown University last Sunday. Without raising any alarms, mingle with her classmates, find out who saw her last, who she was with, and whether she had any intention of going somewhere.”

“Why is she important?”

“She’s the daughter of the Speaker of the House.”

Teddy reached in his jacket pocket and took out a piece of paper. “Here’s a printout about the girl. Read it and shred it. Google her and check her out on Facebook, that’s where I got
this. But don’t do it on a White House machine. Go out to a library and rent computer time. Learn everything you can without printing anything out. No one knows she’s been kidnapped, and we need to keep it that way.”

“Got it.”

Millie went out the door.

Holly looked at Teddy. “Satisfied?”

“She’ll do. Now, if you wouldn’t mind helping me out with this computer.”

“You really need me to log on for you?”

“If you do, it won’t look like unauthorized access.”

“And it will if you do? You’re slipping, Teddy.”

“I’m rusty, and I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. Come on. Be a sport.”

“What do you want from our database?”

“Any recent terrorist activity. Which group is rumored to be responsible for the assassination if no one is taking credit for it. Report of sleeper cells on college campuses.”

“I can request all that.”

“Not without people knowing you’re looking.”

“Of course I’m looking. There’s been a terrorist attack. Everyone is looking.”

“I like to get my own perspective. Firsthand information.”

Holly gave him a look. “All right, don’t tell me.”

She began typing, entered her top security passwords, logged on, and got up.

Teddy took her place, rubbed his hands together, and clicked the mouse, entering the restricted CIA site.

Teddy surveyed the home page with satisfaction. His fingers poised on the keyboard, he smiled up at Holly Barker.

“Don’t you have a meeting?”

A
bdul-Hakim sat on the couch and planned his next move. It was hard creating an illusion of terrorism.

He was no extremist. Far from it. Had he not been kicked out of the Wharton School of business he might have been a junk bond trader by now. Abdul-Hakim resented it. Cheating on exams hardly seemed an expellable offense. For most business positions it was practically a prerequisite. No matter. He now stood to make more than any of his former classmates.

His team for this mission had been carefully comprised of a disparate group of Islamic fanatics and American thugs. This was not just of necessity—fanatics were hard to come by—but part of the plan, one of Calvin Hancock’s requirements.

The whole grand terrorist plot was designed to unravel upon the slightest inspection. All it would take was a push in
that direction, and that had been planned. Then all the discrepancies would begin popping up. The CIA bullet, for instance. Nothing in itself, but telling once taken in context.

Abdul-Hakim smiled, and went back to his plans.

—

IT WASN’T WORKING.
The safety pin from Karen’s glasses was the right size for a key, but it just didn’t work. If the pin was closed, it would fit in the lock but it wouldn’t turn. If she unpinned the pin and straightened it out, the big end was just the right size to fit in the lock and move the tumblers, but she couldn’t get a good enough grip on the pointed end to twist it.

If was horribly frustrating. The point of the pin was sticking into her finger, but she barely noticed. She was sure it would work, if only she could make it turn.

—

ABDUL-HAKIM’S
train of thought was broken by the girl’s jailer, who came lumbering into the living room and stood, dumbly, staring at him, as if waiting for instructions.

“Yes?” Abdul-Hakim said.

“When we gonna move the girl?”

It was actually a good question. This house was a temporary situation only, a fine place to stash the girl for a few days, but it wouldn’t suit their ultimate purpose. For that they’d need
someplace isolated, and the transport would take time. The round-trip would take three hours he could have spent on something else. On the other hand, it would get the big goon out of his hair. From that point of view it was probably worth it.

Abdul-Hakim considered. All right, what did he have to do? Nothing that urgent. He shoved his briefcase aside, and set his black satchel on the coffee table.

He popped the satchel open and took out the hypodermic syringe.

—

BLOOD FROM THE
pinpricks in Karen’s fingertips was making the pin slippery and hard to hold. She licked the blood off, but the saliva was just as bad. Nonetheless, she was making progress. Her prototype of a safety pin key was turning slightly. Her finger was bleeding, but it was turning.

No!

It was turning from the other side!

Karen wrenched the safety pin out, crossed the room in two barefoot, silent steps, and flung herself on the cot, praying the big man wouldn’t hear the squeak of the bed frame over the sound of the opening door.

It wasn’t the big man. It was the Arab. He didn’t seem to have noticed. He came in carrying a little black satchel that looked like a doctor’s bag.

Karen’s heart was already pounding from the close escape,
but the black bag scared her more than anything. The Arab set it on the floor, knelt down next to it.

His cell phone rang.

Abdul-Hakim frowned, took it out, and checked caller ID. If it was Calvin Hancock, he’d have to take it.

It wasn’t, but he had to take it anyway.

It was his contact on the Coast.