The Cygnus Agenda

by Richard Martin

  A keen sense of anticipation was on both sides and Arnie was first to speak as he placed a document on the desk. “There`s the bank account information, Senator. Find out who these guys are and what they do then maybe we`ll know why Jeb Hoag was paid that money.”

  A large grin appeared on Carlucci`s face as he stared at the document and then looked up. “Great work, Arnie. And I`m not going to ask how the hell you managed it.”

  Jessica was quick to jump in. “So what have you got for us, Senator, what`s this new development?”

  “Had a call from Major Greenmire, interesting one, but with a sting in the tail, and I`ll get to that in a minute. You remember Hoag`s girlfriend, the one you went to see in Honduras? Well, she contacted Greenmire. Said she had information about her boyfriend and it could help explain why he changed like he did. She`s holed up in Cartagena, protected by her father, who`s the Chief of Police down there.”

  “Yeah, that`s Carmen. She was really spooked when we spoke to her,” Jessica said, “but we couldn`t get her to tell us much.”

  “Her father told Major Greenmire he can`t protect her any longer and reckons one of the drug cartels is hunting her. He wants her out of there but can`t trust anyone. The deal is that we get the girl`s evidence in exchange for getting her out of Honduras.”

  “What makes you think it`s not just a ploy to get her into the U.S.?” Arnie said.

  “Have to take that chance,” Carlucci replied. “And if what she`s got is bullshit then we send her right back, and they must know that. But here`s the thing. One of the other girlfriends, Louisa, has been found dead and the third girl is now missing, so the father`s fear looks justified.”

  The moments silence was broken by a shocked Jessica. “Dead? The Louisa girl is dead?”

  “Murdered, most likely,” said Carlucci.

  “Do you know that for sure?” Arnie interjected.

  “Do we have to know for sure?” said Carlucci. “Look, we need this Carmen girl, and if the cartel is after her then we must get her out of there, fast. And there`s more. Turns out Carmen worked at some scientific lab, one that Greenmire`s own men are protecting. That`s what she has to trade, information on the lab and it`s connection to the Marines.”

  “Don`t want to rain on the parade,” said Arnie, “but what if all she`s got is just circumstantial?”

  Carlucci paused. “How about bodies of monkeys, all dead from experiments. But here`s the kicker. She`s seen two dead human bodies in the lab as well.”

  “Human bodies!” Jessica said. “She claims to have seen dead human bodies?”

  “Yes.”

  She turned to Arnie. “The kid at the side of the road, remember? He told us about that place, that it was evil and not to go near it. That the locals lived in fear of it. Now we have someone who worked there and can connect her dead boyfriend to it. And if she`s seen human corpses there, then what the hell have we got here?”

  “One weird development,” said Arnie, “but it sounds too crazy to be made up. Means Carmen really is a crucial witness for us.”

  “That`s the sting in the tail,” Carlucci said. “If we want her she`ll only trust you guys to get her out.”

  “No way!” Jessica fired back, “no fucking way. We`re not going back there!”

  Arnie reacted calmly. “What about using Greenmire and a few of his Marines? He should be able to sell that to Carmen`s father as the best option.”

  “That would be okay if it was an option,” said Carlucci, “but it isn`t.”

  “Why not? You`ve got the clout to get Greenmire onto this,” Jessica insisted.

  “No I haven`t, Jessica, not since he intervened to save you guys from the cartels. It left a diplomatic mess, with the Hondurans screaming about an assault on their sovereignty. State Department went nuts.”

  “Sovereignty my ass,” Jessica scoffed, “they`re a bunch of gangsters running the place for themselves.”

  Arnie had it already figured and could see no point in postponing the inevitable. “So who have you got to watch my back, Senator?”

  Jessica stared at him. “You`re going back there? After what happened to us, knowing what that place is like, what will happen if you`re caught?”

  “Got to be done, Jess, it`s the only way. Carmen could be the key to all this.”

  “Have a Special Forces guy I can get for you, Arnie,” Carlucci offered. “He`s in the private sector now and I`ll be paying him well. Went renegade in Iraq after he`d been under cover for too long, but his buddies said he was the only guy they wanted when things cut up rough, so you`ll have the best.”

  Ignoring Jessica`s gaze, Arnie kept his eyes on Carlucci. “How`s this all going to work, Senator. Seems like you`ve already got it figured out.”

  “Okay, you`ll operate out of Greenmire`s base, but remember, he can`t help beyond that or he`ll face a court-martial, so you`ll need your own plan. When you get back to the base, Greenmire will evacuate the three of you to Panama like last time, then on to the U.S.”

  Before Arnie could answer, Jessica interrupted. “I know Greenmire saved our ass down there, but he`s the guy protecting the lab and that must mean under our government`s instruction. So how can we trust him on this?”

  “That`s a judgement we have to make,” Carlucci said.

  Arnie showed no hesitation. “You never know about trust until it`s broken, so relying on a man`s character is all you have, and I reckon Greenmire`s a solid guy.”

  “This whole investigation now rests on getting the girl out,” said Carlucci. “Get her back here to testify and it will give us the clout to open up this secret lab, see what the hell it`s up to. We`ll put her under immediate Federal protection.”

  Arnie nodded. “So what`s the name of my Special Forces guy, and when do I get to meet him?”

  “Name`s Jackson Shawcross, you`ll hook up at the base. He`ll do all the planning on Cartagena, put a strategy together. Then it`s up to you to okay it, because you`re in charge Arnie, you call the shots.”

  “Well for this kind of operation I`ll be leaving everything up to him, I`m no goddamned commando.”

  “Ever carried a gun?” asked Carlucci, “ever shot anyone?”

  Arnie could feel Jessica staring at him, his voice now showing some irritation. “Afghanistan. Did my share of shooting, but swore to never fire a gun again.”

  Carlucci knew to leave it at that, realising it was an intrusive question that maybe shouldn`t have been asked. “Fair enough, Arnie, guess it`s none of my business.”

  Jessica put her hand on Arnie`s arm. “I get why you`re against carrying a gun, but if things go wrong it may be your only chance of getting out of there alive. At least think about it.”

  “Okay, Jess, I`ll think about it.”

  Seeing it as an opportune moment to wind things up, Carlucci stood and placed both hands on his desk. “That`s it then. I`ll get hold of Jackson Shawcross. Looks like this thing`s beginning to roll, but what the hell we`re going to find from here on in, God only knows.”

  CHAPTER 14

  It was a bad neighborhood, even for Detroit. Banged up cars and trucks were randomly parked in a street with a badly paved sidewalk, bits of litter blowing in the wind, a few pedestrians plodding their weary way with little sense of purpose. As he stood on the corner of Grove Street he looked over at the neon-lit bar sign above a pair of well worn doors that hadn`t seen paint for way too long. He knew a redneck bar wasn`t the best place for a meeting, not for a guy like him, but he didn`t know where the man lived and it was an important piece of business he had to attend to.

  Halfway across the street the smell of stale beer hit him as the sound of noisy patrons drifted into earshot, the combination a powerful disincentive for most people, but not for someone on a mission like his.

  Strolling into the bar, his movements slow and relaxed, he
didn`t attract much attention at first, the downtrodden patrons engrossed in conversations that sounded more like arguments. But now those faces changed, the curious looks turning to glares, voices beginning to quieten. It was now a place that held an atmosphere of hostility and all to do with the stranger in their midst, a man in a gray, well cut suit and white open neck shirt.

  Jackson Shawcross was not a big guy for an ex Black-Ops Navy Seal, his frame a couple of inches short of six feet, most of it solid and linked to a mind that made everything work with maximum efficiency. In a place like this his senses were alert, eyes assessing potential threats, working out who would be a player and who not. He had chosen early evening because he thought the bar would be quiet; but not so, and that could limit his options.

  The man he needed was right at the back, sitting on a bench-seat behind a table that had several empty beer glasses on it, the half-full one now being raised to a face that not many people could like. A pony-tail of dark, matted hair did nothing to soften the impact of a pock-marked skin dominated by piercing eyes. This was the guy he was looking for, easy to spot and by the looks of him, easy to dislike. Noting the face had trouble written all over it and a demeanor that portrayed menace, Shawcross felt good about why he was here. “Joe Macdonnell?” he asked, walking up to the guy`s table.

  “The fuck are you?” came the reply.

  “Name`s Shawcross. Mind if I sit down?”

  “Only if you`ve got something interesting for me, if not get your black ass out my face.”

  It was just the start Shawcross had hoped for, antagonistic and racist.

  He put a $20 bill on the table and slid it towards the man. “That get me a few questions?”

  The man looked down at the bill then up at Shawcross, fixing him with a sneering stare. “The fuck are you tryin to buy here? What questions?”

  “Simple ones. Like if you think it`s okay to hurt people, like it`s a pleasure you`re entitled to?”

  A toothy grin spread across the man`s face. “Yeah, sure I do, you lookin for somebody like that, hire some muscle?”

  Shawcross said nothing as he scanned the other patrons, checking their positions. Turning back to the man, who was draining the last of his beer, he raised his voice. “When I say hurt people, I mean really damage them. You can do that, even when it`s not justified, just for the hell of it?”

  The man now took a moment, placing his big hands on the table, his reply guarded. “Look mister, if some jackass annoys me then they get what`s comin to them, and do I enjoy beating the crap out of someone like that? Bet your ass I do.”

  “That`s what I thought,” Shawcross said. “So tell me why you beat on a guy called Marty Crane the other day, beat him so bad he`ll be in hospital for a month and come out with only one eye?”

  “Who?” said the man.

  “The guy in Lucky`s bar on 23rd street, Friday night.”

  “That druggy piece of shit with the dreadlocks? Don`t like them types around me. Had my knife I`d have scalped his ass, thrown that mangy hair in a dumpster.”

  As an afterthought the man added: “That`s no disrespect to your race.”

  The cold smile that went with the man`s remark made Shawcross feel better as he lowered his voice. “So Marty being black had nothing to do with it, only his hair, the dreadlocks?”

  “Yeah, well I got no beef with blacks, treating you with respect, ain`t I?”

  “Not my first impression. Not from the way you addressed me when I approached you. And I`m no Marty Crane, he`s only 150 pounds, now you`re looking at 210.”

  The man was getting the message, his jaw beginning to clench, but there was no sign of fear. “So me being six four and two forty pounds was this guy Marty`s problem, and the way you`re heading mister, means it`s` about to be yours, cause you`re starting to piss me off.”

  As the man abruptly stood, stretching to his full height, Shawcross remained seated, expression neutral, voice calm. “I thought you`d agreed to answer a few questions, you got $20 for it.”

  Placing his two clunky fists on the table the man`s words were spoken not just with threat but intent. “Questions are one thing, giving me shit`s a whole different ball-game. So if you want to walk out of here, get your black ass moving before I start beating on it and send you up there to join that dreadlock sonofabitch pal of yours in the hospital.”

  Shawcross paused a moment then came off his seat slowly, checking on the proximity of those around him. “Okay, big guy, you`re right, I`ve had my $20 worth and got the answers I was looking for, so I guess that`s us done.”

  “Damned right we are. Asshole!”

  “Then there`s just one last thing. Having confirmed that you`re the guy who busted up my buddy and had fun doing it, makes this more enjoyable.”

  The statement brought a flash of puzzlement to the man`s face, that split second all that Shawcross needed as he shot his fist at the guy`s throat. Then in rapid succession two blows to the eye socket brought an immediate yelp of pain followed by the man falling to his knees. Knowing his target was now defenceless would normally be enough, but this was personal and unashamedly about revenge. Making sure none of the patrons were considering a move, Shawcross slowed his pace and shouted his next words. “One thing I can`t stand is a bully, a racist sonofabitch at that, and you`re the worst kind. What`s it like to feel the damage instead of dish it out you cowardly fuck!”

  Grabbing the man by his hair, Shawcross hauled him from the floor and slammed another punch into the gut, the victim doubled over before a knee brought up under the chin sent him reeling towards the bar.

  Most of the tables had now been vacated as some patrons gathered at the end of the bar, no one showing any intent or disagreement with what was going down.

  Checking for any sudden movements, Shawcross back-stepped a few paces then turned to head for the door before stopping as he heard the man struggle to his feet and make a big mistake. “Black motherfucker, I`ll find you and kill you.”

  With three swift strides Shawcross was on him, driving a fully laden punch into the man`s jaw, the victims teeth cracking, blood oozing from his mouth before he fell back to the floor. “If I ever hear that voice of yours again you`ll have the same message coming at you but even worse. Got that, you piece of shit?”

  Reaching the sidewalk, Shawcross walked to the end of the block, turned the corner and let the tension out of his shoulders. Further on down the street, standing at the cross-walk he heard the buzz of his cellphone. Crossing on the green light he peered at the text:

  GET IN TOUCH.

  CARLUCCI.

  CHAPTER 15

  Senator Angela Thorne was the one person Senator Carlucci needed more than any. Not only did she represent the constituency in which the Marines had been killed, but she had the power to get Carmen through border control at Laredo. Her influence at the State Department was another advantage, but Carlucci had been around long enough to know that could be a double edged sword, something that could come back to haunt him. But getting Carmen into the U.S. quickly and under Federal protection was crucial to the investigation`s success, so certain risks would have to be taken. Right now, what Angela Thorne would want in return was the question, but Carlucci knew that a successful outcome to his quest would bring rewards that justified just about any price being paid.

  Meeting in Thorne`s office, Carlucci allowed himself a broader smile than usual as he took his seat and heard her soft, Texas drawl.

  “Always a pleasure to see you, John,” she said, “looks like we have a mutual interest here.”

  “Sure have. Getting answers to that terrible incident in Texas will do us both a lot of good. Helping me get a witness through Laredo will be a great start and you`ll be needing reciprocal help with something close to your electorate`s heart, so I`m sure that can be accommodated.”

  “In that case we have the ba
sis for a beneficial partnership, so clue me in where you are on this thing. A military base and a scientific lab, both in Honduras, along with an off-shore corporation paying money into one of the dead Marine`s bank accounts which is inexplicably in Panama. What the hell have you got here, John?”

  “That, Angela is the big question, one I`m damned sure hides some kind of conspiracy, and therein lies our opportunity.”

  “We both know that a conspiracy is nothing new, not even a surprise these days, but when it involves the deaths of three U.S. Marines that`s a whole different story. And talking of stories, what`s the deal with these two investigators you`ve got on board. Jessica Hahn`s a journalist, right?”

  “Yes. They`re the two that almost busted open the Hydrax affair three years back, smart people who know how to get results. Employing them is the only way I could own this thing and keep the press at bay, because as you well know, the committee will bury this investigation no matter what they find.”

  “Guaranteed, John, but I don`t have to tell you that you`ll be up against some powerful forces. You ready for that?”

  “Evil will prosper when good men do nothing, as somebody once said. It`s a sentiment that got me into politics and one I still believe in.”

  “Admirable. And I wish you luck with that. Just don`t expect me to sign up for it because I`m no Joan of Arc. Causes are great, but it`s the result that counts, and too often it`s not the one you intended.”

  Carlucci folded his arms and smiled. “Good to know where you stand, Angela. Let`s hope we don`t find ourselves in a position that puts us to the test.”

  “Amen to that. So this witness of yours is Honduran?”

  “Yes, a woman, and she`s in a vulnerable position, so I have to get her out fast. I`m sending in my guy, Krench, along with a back-up.”

  “Okay, I can get your witness through Laredo on a restricted visa but what happens after that?”

  “U.S. Marshall Service takes over.”

  “Christ, John, you`re going deep on this one, hope you`ve got it figured right because this has drug cartel written all over it. How come you think it`s an American deal?”