Smooth Operator (Teddy Fay) (8 page)

A
s far as the Santa Monica police were concerned, an abandoned Lexus near the airport was either catnip for car thieves, or part of a prearranged drug drop, so they had it towed in and searched for contraband. They got quite a surprise when they popped the trunk.

—

ABDUL-HAKIM MUSTERED
all the information he could before he called Calvin Hancock.

“This is unacceptable,” Calvin said. “You’re telling me a movie producer walks off the set, kills a hit man, and disappears?”

“We’ll find him. The student’s body was found a mile from the Santa Monica airport. We know Billy Barnett was on his way to the airport to borrow Peter Barrington’s plane. Shortly
before midnight that plane took off for Reno. It never got there. But we’re not taking anything for granted. We’re searching the airport in Reno, and the airports here.”

“Are we sure he ever left?”

“He wasn’t on the set today. He and his wife have a house, we’re searching it now. The men on the job are thorough. And, yes, we’re searching the airport in Santa Monica.”

“What else?”

“We’re searching hotel reservations, car rentals, plane, train, and bus tickets, any credit card use whatsoever in the name of Billy Barnett. He can’t have disappeared into thin air.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. So you tell me, then.”

“What?”

“Where’s Billy Barnett?”

T
eddy Fay whizzed through the CIA website with an ease that had made him one of the most proficient agents in the history of the agency, as well as its greatest menace. In his twenty years outfitting agents for deep cover missions, Teddy had embraced each nuance with a delight usually reserved for computer nerds. In reaching new levels of efficiency, acquiring new weapons, activating and employing them in the hands of the agents he outfitted, Teddy was in effect playing a gigantic computer game.

And no one played it better.

Teddy did a search for subversive activity on the UCLA campus. Within minutes he was looking at a photograph of Alan Johnson, the young man who’d ambushed him in Peter’s airplane hangar. Teddy had a name, could have searched for him
that way, but he wanted to see if he’d find him through other channels. Alan Johnson was flagged for no less than four subversive organizations. Three were political fringe groups. One was suspected of having links to ISIS, but the links were rather tenuous. Not one single known ISIS member was confirmed.

Teddy did a search for known associates, but the kid was pretty much a loner. He’d been involved with two girls from campus, but neither had any political connections.

Teddy checked on terrorist activity in the D.C. area. The report was extensive. Since the assassination of the congressman, every top Al Qaeda official was rumored to be in town.

Teddy concerned himself with reports before the assassination. There were four Al Qaeda operatives in the area. Three of them Teddy knew, but none would have fired the shot or were capable of coordinating the kidnapping and the assassination, if indeed the two were connected. They surely must be—attacks on two conservative Republican members of Congress couldn’t be coincidence. Had the CIA any inkling that the Speaker’s daughter had been kidnapped, this website would explode. The chance of nothing leaking would be nil. The Speaker’s daughter would be as good as dead.

No, the CIA knew nothing. The girl’s fate lay in the hands of Teddy, Holly, and a young woman barely old enough to vote. Okay, what next? Ordinarily he’d have known, but a lack of sleep was catching up with him.

On a whim, he looked up Lance Cabot. The director’s home
page was sparse, a brief bio listing training, positions, and titles. Any further information was coded and encrypted.

“Lance, you paranoid bastard,” Teddy said. “What have you got to hide?”

He rolled up his sleeves and began breaking the code.

H
olly Barker marveled at Kate’s poise. Holly couldn’t help watching the President during the briefing. No one in the room knew there’d been a kidnapping, yet here she was, conducting the meeting with a calm demeanor as if, aside from the fact that there’d been an assassination, nothing was wrong.

“All right,” Kate said. “I realize it’s very early, but what have we got? Lance?”

Holly suppressed a smile. Lance looked like a student who hadn’t read the assignment and was hoping the teacher wouldn’t call on him.

“We’re canvassing for witnesses. Naturally, no one saw the shooting. We know where the shot was fired, from the rooftop across the street. A rifle cartridge shell is being processed even as we speak, not that there’s much to tell until we have a rifle to
match it up with. We’re currently combing through security footage looking for anyone who could have smuggled a rifle in.”

“With any success?”

“Too much. Assuming the rifle was one that could be broken down and carried in an attaché case, we have a few hundred suspects. We’re sorting them out now.”

“Who are we tracking who might be responsible?”

Lance rattled through the list of suspected Al Qaeda, ISIS, and Taliban agents. “With each passing moment it becomes less likely any of them were involved.”

“Why?”

“Because no one has taken responsibility for it. With a terrorist attack of this sort, normally someone would. If there’s no claim within the next hour, we would be inclined to look on any subsequent claim as false.”

The FBI and Homeland Security reported in, but as Lance said, it was way too early and no one had anything concrete.

Holly Barker got back from the meeting to find Teddy Fay still online.

“What are you doing?”

“Requisitioning some equipment.”

“In my name?”

“No, of course not.”

“Surely not in yours.”

“No, but agent Charles Dobson has a very important mission. We don’t want to send our boys out ill-equipped.”

“What is Charles Dobson getting?”

“Sorry. It’s classified.” Teddy swung away from the computer. “You don’t have to tell me how your meeting went. I’m tracking no terrorist activity in the D.C. area yesterday. Today every top Al Qaeda agent not already romping with the eighty-two virgins is in town. No one’s got anything, so everyone’s making things up.”

“That’s about it,” Holly said.

“How’d they react to the bullet?”

“You mean its being CIA? Lance didn’t mention it.”

“Why is Lance so paranoid?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I checked out his file. His encrypted, classified, eyes-only, super-secret file.”

“What’s in it?”

“Nothing. That’s the point. He’s got this totally secure file no one can get into, and he’s afraid to put anything in it.”

“You got into it.”

Teddy waved that point away. “What’s he afraid of?”

“You recall the incident when the plane carrying the sultan’s twin sons was blown out of the sky just before it reached Dahai?”

The incident had set off an international firestorm. Only the highest ranking members of the CIA, FBI, and British Secret Service knew the true facts of the situation—that the twins had been integral participants in a plot to assassinate key figures in the US and UK. Stone Barrington had had a hand in foiling it.

“Sure,” Teddy said. “Their neighbors in Yemen took credit for shooting down the plane. Some group calling itself Freedom for Dahai.”

“Right. Those twins were sleeper cells responsible for a simultaneous attack against the prime minister of England and the president of the United States.”

“I missed that tidbit.”

“Everyone did. The attack was thwarted by a joint effort of British Secret Service and our CIA. Millie was involved, along with her friend in the FBI. We captured the twins before they could do any damage.”

“So, Lance got them declared persona non grata, sent them home, and got his friends in Yemen to shoot them down before they got there.” Teddy nodded. “Good move. It’s what I would have done.”

“Whether Lance actually did it or not, the sultan holds him responsible.”

“I can see how he would.”

“Do you think that has anything to do with this?”

“Hell, no. But it’s certainly interesting. So Lance is vulnerable. I suppose that means you and the President are, too.”

“I may be. Kate is out of the loop.”

“As I’m sure a thirteen-week congressional hearing would establish. I’d prefer to skip the process. Do you happen to know a Margo Sappington from the White House counsel’s office?”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Would she have an office in this building?”

“Let me check.” Holly did a search. “Yes, she does.”

“Great. Could you ask her to step in?”

M
argo Sappington waited patiently in front of Holly Barker’s desk until the national security advisor finished her phone call.

“You wished to see me?” she said, when Holly finally hung up.

“Yes. Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’m surprised you have time for me in light of the assassination.”

“That’s what I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Is there something I can help with?”

“There may be.” Holly got up from her desk. “Let’s go into the conference room.”

Margo followed Holly through the door.

The massive oak table in the conference room could have seated sixteen. At the moment there was only one person sitting at it.

Teddy Fay didn’t bother to get up. “Margo Sappington?” he said.

“Yes.”

Teddy flipped open his credentials, slid them across the table. “Fred Walker, CIA.”

“What’s this all about?”

Teddy took his credentials back, slipped them into his pocket. “Please sit down.”

Margo looked at Holly, then pulled out a chair and sat opposite Teddy. Holly sat next to her as if for support.

Teddy flipped open a file. “You were at Congressman Drexel’s table at the state dinner last night?”

“Yes. But I doubt if I can help you, I didn’t even speak to him.”

“Were you seated next to him?”

“No, I was across the table from him.”

“Who was seated next to him?”

“Some congressman or other. I don’t recall.”

“On his right or his left?”

“His left.”

“And on the other side?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“So, you noticed who was on his left, but not who was on his right?”

“I wouldn’t have noticed at all if he hadn’t been shot. I’m trying my best to remember.”

“Who was sitting next to you?”

“A congressman from Ohio and an attorney from New York.”

“That would be Stone Barrington?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you know Stone Barrington was going to be sitting next to you?”

“I’m only an attorney in the White House counsel’s office. I had no idea who I would be sitting next to. I was just happy to be asked.”

Teddy referred to the file. “According to the original seating plan, Stone Barrington, the man you were sitting next to, was placed next to Congressman Drexel.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes.”

“What?”

“Is that what this is all about? Look, I got to the dinner early, saw I was sitting between two stuffy married congressmen. I noticed Stone Barrington’s place card, and though we’d never met, I’d heard of him, so I swapped places. It’s just as well I did. Drexel was annoyed at Stone Barrington just for being there at all, so they wouldn’t have enjoyed a pleasant dinner next to each other.”

“You wound up leaving with Stone Barrington?”

“I didn’t leave with him.”

“But you went to his hotel room later last night?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Teddy set the wiretap device on the table in front of her. “That’s when you planted this bug in Stone Barrington’s cell phone.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes.” Margo rolled her eyes. “You CIA
guys are unbelievable. It’s like the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Yes, of course I planted a bug in Stone Barrington’s cell phone. That’s what your colleague told me to do.”

“What?”

“Your agent contacted me late yesterday afternoon when I was on my way home to change. He gave me the bug to plant, said there’d been a late addition to the dinner, Stone Barrington, an attorney from New York. I was to make sure I sat next to him, chat him up during dinner, and find an opportunity to bug his phone.”

“Which you did?”

“That’s right.”

Teddy knew the answer to the next question. He just wanted to see if she’d tell the truth. “And that’s why you went back to his hotel room and had sex with him. So you could bug his phone.”

Margo flushed. “Actually . . .”

“Actually, what?”

“I managed to bug his phone during dinner.”

Teddy gave Holly a look. She was trying to suppress her amusement.

“How’d you know how to bug a phone?” Teddy asked.

“The agent showed me. I wasn’t very good at it, so he told me to take the phone to the ladies’ room to do it. Later I’d pretend I just found it on the floor.”

“How did you get ahold of the phone?”

“Picking Stone’s pocket wasn’t hard.” Margo’s eyes twinkled. “He was rather easy to distract.”

“The agent who talked to you,” Teddy said. “What did he look like?”

“Probably of Middle Eastern descent, clean-cut, good-looking.”

“Middle Eastern?”

“Arab features. But Americanized, you know? He spoke perfect English, with little trace of an accent. And he was well-dressed. He looked like an agent.”

“How’d you know he was CIA?”

“He had credentials.”

S
tone Barrington fished his cell phone out of his pocket. “Yes?”

“Are you in your hotel?”

“I am,” Stone replied, recognizing the voice on the line.

“Walk east. Go in the first bar on your left and take a table in the back.”

Five minutes later Stone walked into the bar. He had no trouble recognizing the man sitting at a table in the back as Teddy Fay, despite his Fred Walker persona.

Stone sat down across from him. “Who are you now?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Are we about done playing cops and robbers?”

“I certainly hope so. Let’s see your phone.”

Stone handed it over. Teddy slipped the back off, checked it out again.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Holly just came from a national security briefing. The whole thing gets more and more complicated. Lance is holding out on the President, too.”

“Lance knows about the kidnapping?”

“No. It turns out the shell from the sniper’s rifle was CIA issue.”

“Lance is withholding that from the President?”

“That’s not the half of it. He thinks I fired the shot.”

“Are you serious?”

“Only half. He called Holly to ask her. She pooh-poohed the idea.”

“Are you sure?”

“I was in her office. She told him that Teddy Fay would never jeopardize his clean slate.”

“He buy that?”

“He said so. Deep down inside I suspect he still thinks I did it.”

“I happen to know you didn’t.”

“Thanks for your support.”

“Well, it’s not like I’d put it past you, but we happened to be having brunch at the time.”

“That’s right. The last time we talked it was just a kidnapping. Now we have an assassination.”

“You think they’re related?”

“Only if this is all about passing the veterans aid bill. I find that hard to believe.”

“No kidding,” Stone said. “So, is that all you’ve got?”

“You’re disappointed I haven’t found the girl yet? Well, I found out who bugged your phone.”

“Really? Who?”

“Margo Sappington, just like I thought. She was a setup. She was told to get close to you and plant the bug. I’m sorry to deflate your ego, but she didn’t just fall for your manly charm. She was programmed by a man posing as a CIA agent.”

“Any description?”

“Not good enough to work with. Middle Eastern features, clean-cut, looked like an agent. I’ll track him down when I’ve had some sleep. Right now I can hardly think straight.”

Stone frowned. “What does any of this have to do with the missing girl?”

Teddy shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”