Arkady looked triumphant. “See what I mean?”
When it came to dog training skills, Arkady not only had an exaggerated sense of his own abilities, he also insisted on issuing all his commands in Russian.
Did that mean I’d have to learn Russian in order to communicate with Stormy when I returned to Oklahoma?
Not likely.
* * * *
Once we’d finished eating the watermelon, Millie and Arkady invited me inside for a game of cards, but I told them I needed to visit with Stormy a little longer before heading off to bed.
I didn’t mention I also needed to make a phone call.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Hardly,” Carlton said.
“I thought you ought to know I had an interesting conversation with Frank Benson today.”
“He came out to The Meadows?”
“No, I ran into him at the Academy.”
“Why were you out there?” he asked. “Oh, wait a minute. You must have gone out to Quantico to see Ms. Saxon. How’s she doing?”
I suspected Carlton wasn’t as concerned about Nikki’s well-being as he was about how her training at the Academy was going, so I said, “Just as I expected, she’s excelling in all her classes.”
“What did you and Frank talk about?”
“What else? The canisters.”
“You didn’t—”
“No, of course not, but Frank believes he’s figured out where the canisters are located and what Los Zetas plans to do with them.”
“Did he have a diagram to go along with his theory?”
“More or less.”
“How close did he get to the truth?”
“Pretty close. He’s figured out Rafael Lorenzo has the canisters, but he believes he’s warehousing them in The Bahamas because that’s where Franco Cabello is living. He’s also convinced Los Zetas is planning to auction off the chemical weapons to the highest bidder, say ISIS or Al-Qaeda.”
“At the Joint Task Force meeting tomorrow, the deputy will dissuade him from both those notions. He plans to let the members know the canisters have been located in Santiago, and the cartel is using them as leverage in a kidnapping.”
“The DDO is going to tell them about Ben Mitchell’s kidnapping?”
“That’s right,” Carlton said. “The Senator gave him permission. Otherwise, it would be hard to explain how our operatives were able to locate the canisters. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not really. Of course, once Frank hears the DDO’s explanation, he’ll probably be able to figure out I was one of the operatives who located the canisters.”
“Is that important?”
“I guess not, except that he’ll know I wasn’t being straight with him this afternoon.”
“I’m surprised that matters to you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
When I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, Carlton asked, “Is something else bothering you?”
“Frank told me he’d figured out where the canisters were located by mapping out the connections between the players in the cartel’s organization. His explanation made me realize we’ve never looked into the relationship between Rafael Lorenzo and Ignacio Gilberto. I’d like to know where Governor Gilberto’s interests and Lorenzo’s interests intersect.”
“I don’t know anything about intersecting, but I know Lorenzo needs Governor Gilberto to keep la policía off his back, and Gilberto needs Lorenzo’s kickbacks to keep his treasury full.”
“I get that, but are they connected in some other way?”
“Well . . . perhaps.” Carlton was quiet for a moment. “If you have something specific in mind, I’ll have our analysts look into it.”
“I’m wondering why Lorenzo is such an enthusiastic supporter of the Governor’s tourism emphasis. What’s in it for him? Why would he even bother giving a party for the Tourism Board?”
“I admit that’s curious, but what makes you think the answer would help us find Ben?”
“I’m not sure, Douglas, but it’s all I’ve got right now.”
* * * *
Once I put my phone back in my pocket, Stormy sat up and looked at me. I stared back at him.
“Nikki was right,” I told him. “You’ve grown a lot in the last few weeks.”
He lifted his front paw and placed it in my lap.
“I think she likes you,” I said, stroking the top of his head. “When she says your name, she gets this look on her face.”
He whimpered a little.
“Yeah, I know. She’s not that easy to read, but you’ve got to admit, it’s fun trying to figure her out.”
He rested his muzzle on my knee.
“How would you feel about spending the rest of your life with her? Would that make you happy?”
He gave a deep long sigh and closed his eyes.
“No, it wouldn’t be boring. I’m positive about that. I can’t imagine life with Nikki being boring.”
When I stopped petting him, Stormy opened his eyes and raised his head.
“When you look at it from her standpoint, it might be boring. Long absences can create all kinds of boredom. Would she be willing to put up with that?”
Stormy began nuzzling my hand, wanting me to keep petting him.
“I have a feeling she’d say yes, but is that really the kind of life I want for her?”
When Stormy saw Frisco heading over toward his bowl of kibble, he looked up at me for a moment. Then, he looked over at Frisco, then he looked back at me again.
Seconds later, he got to his feet and trotted after Frisco.
Hard choices.
Even dogs had to make them.
Chapter 31
Monday, August 10
As I was eating breakfast out by Carlton’s pool, I received a text from Olivia McConnell, who, until a month ago, had been responsible for managing one of the RTM Centers.
Olivia and I had met many years ago during our training days at The Farm, but we hadn’t been friends then.
Back then, Olivia didn’t have any friends.
Even today, as far as I knew, I was the only friend Olivia had, although becoming friends with her hadn’t been my choice.
Olivia had made that decision herself not long after our training had ended because I’d helped her out of a tough situation.
Being Olivia’s friend had never been easy. There was little nuance about her, and what she relished more than anything else was a good argument. Everything was either black or white with her, but mostly, it was just black.
Recently, after being diagnosed with breast cancer, she’d come to the conclusion it was better to take her own life rather than slowly dying from the disease. When I’d visited her in the hospital after her attempted suicide, I’d shared with her how my commitment of faith had changed my life for the better.
Initially, she’d rejected my offer to help her make a similar decision, but after her mastectomy, she’d let me know she’d made a decision to follow Christ herself.
Since I’d left for Cuba immediately after that, I hadn’t had a chance to discuss her commitment with her. Strangely enough, I was thinking about calling her when I noticed her text.
“I know you’re at The Gray,” she wrote. “I’m back at work now. Call me, unless you’d rather not. Whatever. It makes no difference to me.”
The text was pure Olivia.
I didn’t call her immediately because, at that moment, Arkady was sitting across from me discussing Stormy’s heartworm medicine. This was a topic I knew absolutely nothing about, but after Arkady had finished lecturing me on it, I felt like an expert on the subject.
As soon as the Russian left to run some errands, I picked up my phone to call Olivia, but before I could punch in her number, Carlton called.
“Are you up?” he asked.
“Of course, I’m up. I’ve been awake for hours. I’m sitting out here by your pool enjoying the view.”
“The view will have to wait. De
puty Ira wants you and Juliana at the Joint Task Force meeting today. Be at his office at two o’clock.”
“Why didn’t he mention the meeting yesterday when we were at The Gray?”
“I don’t know, Titus. I didn’t ask him that.”
“What else did he say?”
Carlton sighed. “He told me to inform you and Juliana that your presence was required at the Joint Task Force meeting. I believe his exact words were, ‘Make sure Juliana and Titus are at the Joint Task Force meeting today in case someone wants to ask them a question about finding the canisters.’”
“I guess that means I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Keep in mind, Titus, the deputy views your role at the meeting as a resource person, not a participant.”
“Right. I’m a resource person.”
He could ask me about gas canisters or heartworm medicine. I was well versed in both subjects.
* * * *
I finally called Olivia once I got off the phone with Carlton. She didn’t answer, so I left her a voice mail. Next, I phoned Juliana and told her I’d pick her up at The Gray at one o’clock.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “Greg offered to drive me over to the Agency.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll come by and pick you up. There’s a few things we need to discuss before we meet with the Joint Task Force.”
“Of course I don’t mind. I’ll see you at one o’clock.”
When I pulled in the circle drive at The Gray a few minutes before one o’clock, Juliana was standing outside waiting for me. She had on a pair of dark slacks and a tailored white shirt, the female version of the nondescript clothing Support Services had provided for me, although I couldn’t help but notice she’d added her own personal touch by wearing the same stiletto heels and gold jewelry she’d worn with her red dress.
As I drove away from the house, she reached over and touched the sleeve of my sports jacket.
“What’s this?” she asked. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I saw it in the closet this morning and decided to wear something from my own wardrobe.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re not a spur-of-the-moment guy.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “I’m guessing there’s someone at the meeting you want to impress.”
I shrugged. “Okay, you’re right. At least you’re half right. There’s no one at the meeting I want to impress, but I do need to ask someone at the Agency for a favor, and I happen to know they appreciate a well-dressed man.”
“Hmmm. That sounds intriguing. Is that what you wanted to discuss with me?”
“No. I wanted to give you a heads up about some of the questions the DDO may ask us at the meeting today.”
“I was surprised when Douglas said he wanted us there.”
“So was I, but then I remembered a conversation I’d had with him about the success of our mission.”
She looked at me and shook her head. “Seriously? Our mission was hardly a success. The DDO said so himself.”
“Yes, but that was before I pointed out to him it was a success in terms of finding the missing canisters.”
“Ah,” she said, nodding her head, “I get it.”
“We’re on the same page then?”
“Oh, definitely.”
Although Juliana and I were both on the same page, Frank Benson and I weren’t even reading from the same book.
* * * *
When Juliana and I were escorted into the DDO’s corner office on the seventh floor, most of the members of the Joint Task Force were already there, including Benson.
Although the deputy’s office, with its floor to ceiling windows, had an extraordinary view of the Virginia countryside, everyone in the room was either gathered around the long black conference table in the middle of the room, or standing next to a refreshment cart by the door.
That was where Juliana and I encountered Benson.
He had just taken a sip of his coffee, but the moment he saw me, he quickly threw his cup in a nearby trash can and hurried over to greet me—or maybe it was Juliana who’d drawn his interest.
At any rate, after he said hello to me, he immediately turned his attention to her.
I made the introductions.
“Juliana, this is Frank Benson. He’s a fed now, but he used to be one of us.”
As Benson smiled and stuck out his hand, I said, “Frank, this is Juliana Lamar. She’s Agency now, but she used to work narcotics in the San Francisco Police Department.”
Even though Benson had never had a reputation as a ladies’ man, after his wife had divorced him a decade ago, he hadn’t been shy about dating. The gossip I’d heard floating around the cafeteria was that women thought he was extremely handsome and a good conversationalist.
Personally, I didn’t agree with either one of those descriptions, but I did envy his square jaw.
“San Francisco?” Benson said, “I was out there a couple of years ago. Do you know Special Agent Marvin Dobrowski?”
“Yes, I worked with Marvin on several cases. Isn’t he the new Special Agent in Charge at the Bureau’s San Francisco field office now?”
I stood off to the side and didn’t say anything while Benson and Juliana became acquainted with each other. Truth be told, I was happy to see the two of them make a connection, although I wasn’t sure Benson was Juliana’s type.
After a few minutes of social chitchat, Benson turned to me. “I was surprised to see you walk in here today after you told me the DDO had you on a special assignment.”
Before I had a chance to offer an explanation, the DDO’s assistant asked everyone to be seated, and Juliana and I went over and sat down next to Carlton.
When the DDO began the meeting, he reminded everyone that the Citadel Protection Joint Task Force Inter-Agency Collaboration group had been formed almost six weeks ago to coordinate the efforts of the FBI, the CIA, and the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) in locating the two hundred canisters of sarin gas and arresting the members of a Hezbollah cell operating out of Baltimore.
After giving a synopsis of how Operation Citadel Protection had been brought to a successful conclusion with the confiscation of the canisters and the arrest of the cell members, he introduced Rand McCormick, the head of the Army’s Chemical Materials Agency, who was seated to his right.
“Two weeks ago,” the DDO said, “we were informed by Dr. McCormick that ten of those canisters were missing. Actually, the canister count was correct, but the cartel had substituted ten fake canisters in place of the real ones. As we discussed at the time, it appeared Los Zetas had siphoned off a small stockpile of sarin gas for their own use.”
The DDO gestured at his assistant, who picked up a remote mouse and aimed it at a wide-screen monitor mounted at one end of the conference table. After he clicked the mouse, an image appeared on the screen. It was the photograph Juliana had taken of the ten canisters standing upright in a makeshift crate in the back bedroom of Lorenzo’s guesthouse.
The sight of the canisters caused a noticeable stir in the room.
The DDO—ever the showman—dramatically announced, “Today, I’m happy to report, due to the diligence of two of our operatives, those canisters have been found in Santiago de Cuba.”
I looked across the table at Benson who was staring up at the image as if he’d memorized the serial numbers and wanted to be sure they were indeed the missing canisters.
Truth be told, he’d probably done that.
All the Agency personnel in the room immediately clapped as soon as the DDO made the announcement, and a few seconds later, the Bureau and the DHS members joined in.
Although the deputy was beaming, he tried to appear modest about this achievement. “I can’t take credit for locating the weapons, that success belongs to a couple of our intelligence officers who are here with us today.”
He pointed down at
the end of the table and said, “Titus Ray, whom many of you know already, and Juliana Lamar, his partner, will be happy to answer any questions you may have about how they were able to locate the canisters. But first, let me give you a brief word of explanation about how their Top Secret operation resulted in the discovery of the canisters.”
As soon as the DDO mentioned my name, Benson looked over at me and shook his head.
I gave him my best smile.
* * * *
After the DDO gave a succinct description of Operation Peaceful Retrieval, which included the emails the Senator had received from the cartel and the POA for rescuing Mitchell from Lorenzo’s guesthouse, he asked the members of the Joint Task Force if there were any questions.
Because of the masterful way the DDO had presented his success in finding the canisters, no one in the room appeared all that concerned Mitchell was still in the hands of the cartel.
No one, except Frank Benson.
“What about the Senator’s son?” Benson asked.
“That operation is still ongoing,” the DDO replied.
“So Ben Mitchell is still in the hands of the Los Zetas cartel?”
“That’s correct, but the situation will be resolved soon.”
“Why wasn’t the Bureau informed a Senator’s son had been kidnapped?”
“That was the Senator’s choice, and, in light of the fact Ben is a covert operative, the Agency supported that decision.”
“I believe that’s a violation of the Presidential Policy Directive PPD-30 which concerns a U.S. national being taken hostage abroad.”
Benson had an iPad in front of him, and he started typing on it as he spoke. “Just a moment. I’ll give you the exact wording of that directive.”
As I studied the expression on the DDO’s face while he waited for Benson to find the document, I felt as if I were being given a window into the machinations going on inside his brain.
From his furrowed brow to the downward curve of his mouth, I felt certain the DDO was plotting how he could keep Benson from turning his success of finding the canisters into a failure.
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