The Cygnus Agenda

by Richard Martin

  “What would be real interesting,” Arnie said, “is if the other two Marines received a similar payment and from the same Panama account.”

  “Well,” said Carlucci,” Hoag has already contacted the parents of the other two Marines and was told there was no Panama bank statement with their things and no more than a few hundred in their U.S. accounts. That`s not to say the other Marines didn`t get a similar payment. Panama and off-shore accounts are secret for a reason. Even the U.S. government can`t get access.”

  Arnie smiled. “Why would they want to? That`s where their own accounts are. No offense, Senator.”

  “None taken, Arnie, way the world works.”

  “The rotten, stinking way it works,” Jessica said.

  The senator knew to stop right there, drop a subject guaranteed to get everyone without an off-shore account feverishly wound up. “At least we have a lead,” he said. “Jeb Hoag`s Panama bank account could be the break we`re looking for, and it looks like his sister`s in charge of his estate. From my phone conversation with her it`s clear that if there`s anyone more fired up than us over this matter it`s her. So looks like we`ve got ourselves a useful ally, and that means you guys getting over there to get a feel for this woman, sound her out.”

  Hitting the sidewalk, Jessica could feel a new purpose in her stride. She felt invigorated at the lead from Carlucci and relieved that the story had a new direction. She sounded up-beat. “At last, something with substance, Arnie. Tennessee, never been there, have you?”

  Arnie didn`t reply. He was focussed on the unexpected turn the investigation had taken, and whether the Senator was being straight with them, especially about Greenmire. He knew it was only a hunch, but things not always being what they appeared to be had a habit of messing with people`s perspective, and he had an uneasy feeling this was one of those occasions.

  Passing a store window he stopped Jessica by taking hold of her arm. “I know that region of Tennessee, it`s hill country, can be scary, especially for a woman. You sure you want to go there? I can do it alone if you want to sit this one out.”

  As soon as he said it he realised his mistake. Jessica`s look was sending him a clear signal and he immediately backed off. “Sorry, Jess, I`ve run into hillbillies before and it wasn`t a good experience, guess I`m being over protective.”

  “Yes you are,” she said firmly, “and I know you mean well but never make that mistake again.”

  He smiled at her. “Won`t happen again.”

  “Bet your ass it won`t,” she said, smiling back.

  As they continued along the sidewalk, Arnie began to realise that Jessica was a lot tougher than he remembered. He knew how scared he was in that dungeon, and given that she had suffered much more trauma, he now understood that her mental strength was formidable. Her initial opening with Carlucci had been an awkward moment, leaving him to question how well she had recovered from the Honduras nightmare and now that concern was beginning to recede.

  Tomorrow`s agenda was discussed in the cab, and both now held an optimistic view of what might emerge from a meeting with the Hoag family. But Arnie knew that hill country was a place all its own, and that the experience was likely to be a surprise to Jessica, if not a shock. But for now their arrival back at the hotel meant hitting the bar for a few drinks and winding down from the tension of the day.

  The bar was quiet, and as Arnie came back from the rest-room, Jessica`s her eyes were all over him. “So you`ve been to hill country before and were none too impressed,” she said, now on her third beer. “What happened?”

  “Ran my Harley up there when I was in college and found these folks had a lifestyle all their own. They don`t get many strangers visiting and the few they do are usually federal officials who end up getting their ass out of there once they feel them hillbilly eyes on them.”

  “Sounds like you`re a bit scared, Harley man.”

  “Not scared, just wary. At least we`ll be up there to help a family who`ve suffered a great loss and folks will know that we`re there trying to get justice for Jeb Hoag. Reckon the word will have got round so we should be okay.”

  “Where`s this place near, Knoxville?”

  “Yeah, about an hour twenty, provided we don`t get lost. What road signs they`ve got are mostly used for target practice, more holes than sign.”

  Jessica drained the last of her beer then suggested one for the road. “Bourbon this time,” she said, “straight up, no ice.”

  On his way back from the bar her eyes were once again all over him, watching his slow stride, the easy confidence.

  Sitting down, Arnie noticed her throwing him a mischievous glance.

  “What?” he said.

  She flushed slightly as she reached for her drink. “Nothing.”

  “Looked to be something, Jess.”

  “Just thinking back to old times, we were good together.”

  “Maybe too good.”

  “Well the way we crashed and burned means we flew too high too fast, like a couple of teenagers, should have known better.”

  The statement seemed to unsettle Jessica and the following silence gave her the chance to change the subject. “Carlucci didn`t tell us where the daughter lives? If she`s practising law then it can`t be in such a small town, so maybe it`s Knoxville.”

  “It is,” said Arnie, “but the meeting`s at the Hoag`s` place.”

  She fixed him with a surprised look. “How do you know the sister practices in Knoxville?”

  “Carlucci told me.”

  “When?”

  “When he phoned me, after our meeting.”

  “You didn`t tell me.”

  “He just wanted a private word. Check that you were okay after the Honduras experience.”

  “That all?”

  “Yeah, said he was worried about the effect on you, thought you were a touch aggressive with him.”

  She looked at him then downed the last of her bourbon. “So if this bank statement turns out to be the real deal where do we go with it, how can we use it?”

  “Find out who paid in the thirty thousand bucks.”

  “Can`t see that happening.”

  “Really?” he said calmly. “Bit negative, Jess.”

  “It`s an off-shore tax haven bank for crying out loud, and in goddamned Panama.”

  “Then the answer`s in Panama.”

  Her response came with a vehemence he wasn`t expecting. “Panama! Fuck that, Arnie, no way!”

  “Not you, Jess, just me. That bank will be our only chance to find out who`s behind this. It`s got to be the connection we need and without it we`re busted flat.”

  “How are you going to get information like that from a Panama bank?”

  “That`s what people pay me for, finding ways that others can`t.”

  “Come on, Arnie, it`s high risk stuff, way too high, and in a place that`s dangerous to operate in. Wasn`t Honduras enough for you?”

  “I`m pretty good at what I do, Jess and if we want to get answers, some kind of story out of this, then risks will have to be taken. Panama`s the only option.”

  “Hold up there, Arnie, not so fast. So you get to Panama, go to this bank, then what?”

  “Case the joint, figure how to execute the plan.”

  “The plan?”

  “Yeah, the plan.”

  “You`ve got a plan?”

  “Nope. I`ve got an idea about a plan. It`s crazy but it worked for the guy who came up with it.”

  “The hell are you talking about?”

  “Look, assuming the bank statement is legit, this investigation is over unless we find out who`s behind that $30,000 payment. So I`ve got to get to someone inside the bank, one way or another.”

  “It`s Panama City we`re talking about, not some hick town in Alabama. You`ll have no
back up, no one to turn to if it goes pear-shaped. They would throw your ass in jail down there and you may never come out.”

  “Don`t intend to let that happen.”

  “No intention doesn`t mean no chance of it happening.”

  “Got a better idea? Let`s face it, Jess, it`s Panama or nothing.”

  Now she had to call it: let Arnie stick his neck out again or chuck the whole idea, face up to the investigation being over. She didn`t want to take either option so she kept talking, hoping to find something that would influence her decision. “You think you can swagger in there, bear traps all over the place, then walk out with highly confidential information?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Jesus, Arnie, you`ve got some brass.”

  “What`s needed on this one, Jess.”

  “Until things go wrong. Have you got an exit plan if it all goes to hell?”

  “First rule of any plan, build the exit first.”

  “And that is?”

  He laughed. “Haul ass out of there and hope you`re faster than the guy behind you.”

  “This is serious, Arnie, look how close we came in Honduras. Central America is a dangerous place and for this kind of operation it`s close to a suicide mission.”

  “You`re right, Jess, I get that, and it`s your call. Now am I going or not?”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Let`s see how the meeting with Hoag`s sister goes, what she`s got and if this bank statement is genuine. If it is then we`ve caught a break, and I admit, if we could find out who paid Hoag that money then we`re onto something. But I still can`t see how anyone could get that kind of confidential information, and that includes you.”

  “Like I said, Jess, it`s down to having a plan.”

  Now she suddenly kicked off. “Plan or no plan, Honduras was a nightmare, damned near got ourselves tortured to death. Panama could be just as bad.”

  She took a moment as they stared at each other. “So no, Arnie, I`m not letting you go down there, we find another way.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Over breakfast they discussed the questions that would be put to the Hoag family, Arnie reminding Jessica that hill folks were way different from the suburban types she was used to. He knew that any family would be sensitive given the circumstances, and that these people might react in a way not anticipated. That Janice Hoag was a lawyer should be a help, and as long as they kept well away from the rest of the community then causing any kind of an incident could be avoided.

  From Knoxville airport they set off in a rental car, Jessica slumping back in her seat and taking a nap. Arnie`s concentration was not on the impressive scenery of tree dotted hills and small lakes, but on what kind of reception might await a pair of strangers from the city, inquiring about a hillbilly`s dead son.

  Now the car was climbing up a winding road, clearing the foothills and entering an area that reflected not just economic decline but a depleting social balance. Decrepit barns, unused silos and rusted machinery were a feature of the fields; folks, mainly old, sitting on their wooden stoops, most with tethered dogs that barked aggressively. The houses were poorly maintained, the handful of people present all having expressions that seemed to reflect a loss of hope. Neither Arnie nor Jessica spoke as they watched each scene go by.

  They were twenty minutes early when they arrived at the meeting point, a small, single street town with only a few stores still in business, the rest all boarded up. With time to spare, Arnie parked up the car, and with Jessica in need of a rest-room they headed for the only bar in town. It was a need that would get things off to a bad start; the instructions from the Hoag family already misunderstood, and as Jarrod Wilkes, their contact, entered the bar some ten minutes later he looked none too happy.

  The angry scowl on Wilkes`s face said it all. “Figured you`d be in here, rental cars being a rare sight around these parts. You were told to meet me at the crossroads and stay in your car, so what the fuck are you doing in here?” he said, sitting his wiry frame down. “We`re gone from here, right now. Let`s go!”

  “Take it you`re Jarrod Wilkes, Jeb Hoag`s cousin,” Arnie said. “We arrived early so came in here to use the rest-room. Just having a drink, what`s the big deal?”

  “City folks like you with your jackass attitude. This is hill country, people around here don`t like city folks. This is a bad-ass place with bad-ass dudes, so move it.”

  As his words tapered off Wilkes jerked his head round to see three guys at the bar turn and stare. Now he tensed as a hush descended on the place, the change in atmosphere making him grit his teeth. “Now! Let`s go!”

  It was a moment too late as the three bar-flies began to stroll towards them, Wilkes noticing that their eyes were on Jessica. “Shit,” was all he said.

  When the biggest of the three reached them he leaned forward and put his clunky hands flat on the table, the clear message of menace causing Jessica to recoil in her chair.

  With a grin that showed a missing front tooth, the man stared at her, his words coming out slow. “Well now, look what we have here, a nice piece of city ass come to say hello to us hick-folks. What`s your name, city girl?”

  In the grim silence, Jessica said nothing, her features tightening, unable to hide her disgust.

  The bear of a man continued. “How about me and you spend a little time together, get to know what a mountain man feels like, a real man?”

  Arnie felt his large hands clench into fists as he noticed the other patrons now staring in anticipation, some low chatter breaking out. A glance at the bartender told him no help would be coming from that direction. Now the adrenaline began to surge as he realised his predicament, while a quick look at Jarrod Wilke`s skinny frame counted him out as any kind of help.

  Wilkes raised his head. “Look mister, we ain`t here for no trouble. We`re just leavin, okay?”

  The big guy was still staring at Jessica but now swung his shaven head round to look at Jarrod. “Shut the fuck up rat-face. I`ll be dealin with you in a minute.”

  Having stared out Jarrod whose head had dropped in obedience, the guy turned back to face Jessica. “Now then, where was we?”

  Arnie knew what was coming next as he fought to control a sense of panic. The other two guys were now sniggering in a hillbilly kind of way and looking all jumpy, like they were getting fired up for the action.

  The next move was so sudden it caused total silence in the bar as the big guy stared down at the table top. His yell came a split second later as the blood poured from his hand, now pinned down by Jarrod`s eight inch Bowie knife. It had been a strike with the speed of a viper, delivered with a glare of wildness in Jarrod`s eyes and followed by him springing from his seat then launching a violent head butt at one of the other two guys.

  In full reaction mode, Arnie was on his feet and slammed his fist into the windpipe of the third guy, another punch landed before his target hit the floor.

  Wrenching his Bowie knife from the big guy`s hand, Jarrod picked up a chair and crashed it over his victim`s head. Pointing the knife at him he screamed. “You ever see this rat-face again you`ll be pullin this out your heart, got that?”

  Arnie had already grabbed Jessica`s arm and was headed for the door, now kicking it open and charging towards the car. Jarrod was right behind them and shouted. “You`ll never find the Hoag cabin on your own so stay on my tail, it`s all back roads. Sit tight on my ass, you hear?”

  Spinning dirt from wheels that were almost smoking, Jarrod gunned his pick-up, Arnie doing his best to match him in a town car that was struggling to get traction.

  It wasn`t long before Jessica exploded. “What the hell is it with guys and violence? That meat-head was no better than the fucking monster in Honduras. Never again, Arnie, never again do I go anywhere that`s not guaranteed to be civilised. If I had a gun I would have shot that son of a bitch.�
��

  Arnie said nothing, his anger just as deep. He agreed with her, and was now reconsidering his commitment to never carrying a firearm, something he had always felt strongly about.

  The Hoag cabin was just below the tree line, built into a large grassy mound and surrounded by pig pens, chicken runs and a collection of iron clad buildings that were falling down more than standing up. The smell was as expected from such an arrangement, the assortment of pig grunts and chicken clucks drowning out some frisky horses in the nearby field.

  Pushing open a screen door covered in holes, the matriarch of the residence confirmed her presence with a shrill holler that fell well short of a warm welcome. “So you got here! Kind of expected Jarrod to lose you, given the way he drives. Dukes of Hazzard got nothin on him.”

  Climbing the rotting wooden steps of the stoop, Jessica moved ahead of Arnie to offer her hand, the gesture ignored. Dressed in old clothes that looked like menswear, skewed cowboy hat on a head that exposed gray, wispy curls peeking out, the woman hooded her eyes as she spoke. “I know who you is, don`t need no introducin.”

  Inside, the visitors were shown to a pair of chairs that looked to have come from the days of frontier exploration, before the woman turned and headed down the hallway. “Fetch Jeb`s papers for ya,” she called out, “then you can get yourselves back where you came from.”

  By the time she returned to the living room that doubled as the kitchen, Jessica had surveyed the place and was impressed by how clean and tidy it was. Family pictures were all over the walls, an empty dog basket by the window, small china ornaments on a rickety old sideboard.

  The woman had returned, but without the papers and she barked an order at Jarrod. “Don`t be showin us up to these city folks, boy. Where`s your manners? Get them somethin to drink, and I don`t mean throwin over a couple a beer cans.”

  Jarrod had seated himself on a threadbare couch and looked over at the visitors, his eyebrows raised as if to ask what they might want to drink.