“Agent Wallace?”
Roger froze when he heard his name called and spun around expectantly. Agent Weston trotted to catch up with him. “I was called and told that you were here looking for me.” She gave him a confused look as she approached.
Roger swallowed hard and nodded bashfully. “Yes, I did, Brenda. I apologize. I shouldn’t have stopped by unannounced.”
She took him by the arm and slowly turned him back around. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Roger felt his cheeks flush and he avoided her gaze. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat uncomfortably and felt his tongue stammer as he tried to speak.
She shifted her stance so that he had to actually look at her face and he sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Brenda. I somehow stepped in it and they’re transferring me. I was coming up I-35 and when I saw the sign for Oklahoma City, I thought of you.” He shook his head and lowered his voice. “I guess the idea of a friendly face sounded better in my head.”
She pulled him aside and away from the flow of those exiting the building. “What happened?”
“I honestly have no idea. One minute I was working a domestic terrorism sting and the next, I’m told that I screwed up a joint CIA-NSA operation.” He shrugged and gave her an innocent look. “I have no idea how, and my supervisor refused to give me any details before they booted me to no man’s land.”
She nodded slightly. “Probably because he doesn’t know either.” She tugged him toward the exits and gave him a soft smile. “Come on. I know a good place for coffee.”
Roger balked slightly and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I…I was headed up to the third floor to look for you and realized that crying on somebody’s shoulder isn’t going to help.”
“So don’t cry. Just drink coffee and let’s catch up.” The twinkle in her eye told him that maybe there was more behind her intentions than he would have originally guessed. He found himself falling into step behind her and walking back out into the warm, humid Oklahoma air.
BYI, Dallas, TX
* * *
BOBBY PACED SLOWLY, his mind spinning as he tried to consider all of the possibilities. He turned slowly to Jay and raised a brow. “What could they do to him if he’s caught?”
Jay shrugged. “Throw him under the jail? Hell if I know. Send him to Des Moines, I guess. Technically, he’s committing espionage.”
“I should have gone instead.” Bobby pushed past Jay and reached for a phone.
“Who do you think you’re calling?” Jay placed his hand on the receiver and held it in its cradle.
“I’m calling Roger and telling him to cancel the op. We can find the information another way.”
“Negative, compadre. He pulled you into this mess, he can help pull you out.”
Bobby pushed Jay’s hand away from the phone and lifted the receiver. “It’s my problem, Jay. I’ll call the shots on this—”
Jay reached for the cord and ripped it from the wall. “You called us for backup. Let us do what we do best.” He wrapped the cord into a loop and dropped it onto the desk.
Bobby swallowed the anger that rose in his throat and closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have got you involved.”
“Too late.” Jay sat on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms. “You’ve been out of the game too long, Bob. Let me and the boys do what we do.”
“I got something!” Gregg stood up from his computer and pumped the air with his fist.
“What you got?” Jay brushed past Bobby and approached Gregg’s desk. He leaned across and stared at the screen. He looked up at Bobby and his face was twisted into a grimace. “You been to Pakistan lately?”
Bobby turned and gave him a quizzical stare. “Hell no. I haven’t left Texas in forever.”
“According to this, you have.” Jay spun the computer around for Bobby to inspect. “You spent two weeks in Pakistan and just returned.”
Bobby shook his head, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing. “It must be a mistake. Maybe another Bobby Bridger?”
Gregg shook his head and punched a few select key strokes. “Not unless the other Bridger looks exactly like you.” A short video of Bobby checking in at customs and getting his passport stamped played across the screen.
“That never happened.” Bobby stood and stared at the screen, his mouth trying to form other words. “I’m being set up.”
“Of course you are. This just appeared out of nowhere.” Gregg saved a copy of the video and placed it in his Bridger folder. “The big question is, why are they manufacturing evidence against you? What did you do?”
Deric rolled his chair over by Gregg’s desk and studied the image. “Definitely doctored. And not very well, if you ask me.”
Jim MacDougall studied the image over Deric’s shoulder. “Whoever made this made it quickly.” He shook his head as he looked at Bobby. “This sort of grainy crap will work fine for the press, but under real scrutiny, it will be proven as manufactured.”
“But why?” Bobby practically stumbled back as his worst fears were verified in black and white.
“The real question isn’t why, but who.” Jay announced. “We know the why…they need you to take the blame for something. Probably something they’re doing as we speak. We need to know who. Once we know who, we can isolate one of the players and determine the exact why.”
“CIA-NSA.” Bobby practically whispered. He turned to Jay, his eyes wide. “Roger said he was dismissed because he interfered with a joint CIA-NSA operation.”
Gregg let low a whistle. “Big boys.” He chuckled as he continued to enter commands into his computer. “Sucks to be you.”
“Enough,” Jay barked. “He’s right. They are big boys. Maybe too big to isolate the players involved.”
Bobby fell into his chair and held his head in his hands. “I’m screwed.” Visions of sneaking into Mexico and living somebody else’s life flashed through his mind. He hated Mexico.
Jay rested a hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Don’t give up hope yet.” He shot him a sideways smile. “You got Baba Yaga on your side.”
Bobby shook his head slowly. “I shouldn’t have gotten you all mixed up in this. These fuckers don’t play nice.” He stood suddenly and glanced around the building. “They could be sending a wetwork team now.”
“Easy big guy. Let’s not panic just yet.” Jay stepped between him and the exit.
Viktor laughed loudly and held his hands out wide. “What wetwork team would stand a chance against us?”
Jay and Bobby both gave the crazy Russian a stern stare but he continued to laugh. “We are the people they usually hire. What? We would remove ourselves? I do not think so.”
“They have thousands of contractors, Viktor,” Jay informed him.
“Ah, but we are the best.” Viktor shook his finger at the tall bald man. “Nobody would dare a strike on us here. We are fortified.”
Jay sighed and pulled Bobby outside the circle of desks. “First, we don’t know what they’re planning. Let’s give your boy Roger a chance. Once we can go through what he finds, we’ll have an even better idea of what—”
“But wait! There’s more!” Gregg chimed. “If you act now, we’ll double your order and include this handy set of Ginsu knives.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?” Jay pushed past Bridger and marched to Gregg’s desk.
“They just finished manufacturing video of his exiting the country.” He pushed away from his computer and cracked his knuckles as he smiled at the pair. “I’ve already saved a copy.”
“So they have me coming and going, supposedly to Pakistan. For what purpose?”
“We’ll find that out soon enough.” Jay stared at the video and he was convinced that whoever he was watching on the screen with Bobby’s face wasn’t even the same two people. “Damn, it looks like they just found the biggest motherfuckers they could find and pasted your mug on them.” Jay pointed to the screen. “Look, your hands are black when you leave.”<
br />
“They’ll photoshop that later, I’m sure,” Gregg assured them. “I think I’ve stumbled upon the technician’s folder who is charged with generating this craptastic mess.”
“Which agency?” Steve asked as he began logging into his own computer.
“Looks like this one is CIA. Makes sense, wouldn’t it? They’ve been in the game longer than anybody else.” Gregg punched the keys and spun his computer around. “I don’t have a name, but I have a location–he’s in Langley. Looks like the Special Activities Division.”
“Of course he is,” Bobby muttered under his breath. “There’s no getting to somebody who works there.”
Jay gave him a smirk and shook his head. “Of course there is. If we can narrow down who this turd is, we can snatch him.” He nodded to Gregg. “I want an ID on this guy. Pronto.”
“Working on it.”
Bobby shifted closer to Jay and lowered his voice. “Aren’t we running a risk having Gregg hack into their systems? What if they realize that—”
Jay held up a hand to stop him. “We’re not hacking.” He gave Bobby a slight smile and nodded toward Steve. “Come and take a look.”
Bobby stepped behind Steve’s desk and watched as he logged into the CIA’s systems as a remote user. “We’re contractors. We have access.”
“To this level of information?”
“Oh, hell no. We stole the log in IDs from other field operatives with higher clearances.” Steve shot him a lopsided grin. “I have a stack of logins from all sorts of characters.”
“But they can still trace it back to you, can’t they?” Bobby swallowed nervously.
Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Besides maintaining our personal servers overseas, we use redirects out the ass. We’d be pinged as soon as they attempted a trace and we could shut down, redirect, and log right back in.” He pointed to the small open window at the top of his monitor. “Nobody is looking for us. If they were, we’d know it.”
“Relax, Bridger.” Jay patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Believe it or not, we know what we’re doing.”
“Bobby, when did you buy a bunch of chemicals from Indiana?” Gregg asked.
“I didn’t.”
He pointed to his screen and nodded. “According to this, you placed an online order three weeks ago.” He hit a few keystrokes and saved a copy in his own records. “And they were delivered just prior to your taking off on your Middle Eastern vacation.”
“To where?”
Gregg ran his finger along the manufactured receipt and gave him a solemn stare. “Your house.”
“I didn’t even have internet until just a few…” Bobby trailed off. “They’re trying to make an airtight case against me.”
“I can’t even pronounce most of this stuff you bought.” Gregg squinted at the screen as his mouth tried to form the words.
“I didn’t buy it, dammit.”
“Oh, I know. I’m just saying…” Gregg shook his head as he read through the chemicals on the bill of lading. “Guys, we’re going to need a PhD in Chemistry to tell us what this crap is. Much less what it does.”
“My guess would be some sort of explosive.” Jay stretched his neck and tried to imagine what possible target our elusive intelligence agencies might choose. “But what the hell is in Pakistan that would be a high value target?”
Jim shook his head. “Who says it has to be high value?” The rest of the group turned and stared at him expectantly. “I mean, who says he has to blow up something important? All they need is a madman they can pin something on. A trigger event, if you will.”
The rest weren’t quite following so Jim tried another tactic. “Look at it this way. Say they can prove that an American, one who has anti-government sentiments, traveled overseas and blew up a school, a mosque, a hospital or hell, maybe even one of our own consulates? It would have to be some kind of target that sent a message, wouldn’t it?”
Jay shrugged. “I guess, yeah. But why Bobby?”
“Think about it,” Jim continued, “he’s had the training and he’s paranoid.”
“For good reason,” Bobby interjected.
“True. But they need a patsy.” Jim began to pace slowly. “So let’s try to twist our minds like theirs is. What purpose does it serve?”
Deric stood slowly and gave the others a wide eyed stare. “What if they’re looking for a way to tag all ex-operators as possible threats?”
“Or veterans,” Steve added.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Jay held his hands up, quelling the conjecture. “Right now, we can only go on the information we have at hand. Let’s sit tight until we hear back from Roger and see what he may have found. With any luck, we can reverse engineer this little plot before it gets fully implemented.”
Bobby sat down hard and turned soulful eyes to Jay. “What if they’ve already implemented it?” He swallowed hard and looked to the rest of the group. “What if they’re blowing shit up as we speak. In my name?”
Langley, VA
* * *
DARREN CHESTERFIELD SAT at his computer and stared at the grainy images that he had been sent. He smiled to himself as he watched his scapegoat exit the country and return. “I think this will work just fine.” He knew that when it came to railroading a suspect that “everybody” knew was guilty, neither the media nor the courts dug deep enough to find any real inconsistencies. Besides, knowing Bridger’s past history and state of mind, he doubted the man would be taken alive.
He studied the printout from the chemical supply house and nodded. The ingredients list wouldn’t create the compound they had used, but specific markers that would be found in any ash residue would. They only needed a few more key pieces to be put into play for their part to be completed.
He opened a new window and checked for feedback from the field agents in play. The group that was to enter Bridger’s home and plant the airline tickets, the baggage claim receipts and other sundries hadn’t checked in yet. He had not doubt that they would complete their tasks in a timely manner. They knew what was at stake and they were some of his best operatives.
Darren divided his attention between the constant news reports for the region and the evidence trail they were creating that would lead straight to Bridger. He only hoped that the FBI put on the case were able to see the clues right in front of their faces.
Darren clicked to a new screen and pulled up the chat rooms where he had discovered BoBriger. He entered his password and a quick popup welcomed GabrielsButler_72 back to the website. He scanned the early afternoon traffic and chuckled to himself as he logged out as GabrielsButler_72 and used the stolen password to log in as BoBriger.
“Very soon patriot brothers and sisters, you will bear witness to the wrath of god upon the savages that defile that glorious banner of all that is right.”
Darren leaned back in his chair and watched as those that he considered domestic terrorists all clamored to discover what the infamous BoBriger alluded to.
“Lemmings.” He logged out of the website and left them all hanging, their imaginations free to run wild. “One step closer.”
7
BYI Dallas, TX
* * *
BOBBY JUMPED FOR the other phone when it rang and clenched and unclenched his fists as Steve answered. He held a hand over the receiver. “It’s him,” he mouthed.
He punched a button and put Roger on speaker. “Go for Bobby.”
Roger’s voice seemed overly joyous as he spoke. “Hey, I just wanted to touch base and let you guys know I’m liable to be a bit late checking in. I stopped in Oklahoma City to see an old friend and…well, I think I’m going to take a personal day.” The group could hear a female voice in the background and they turned to give Bobby a questioning stare. Bridger simply shrugged.
“Agent Wallace, any chance you could transmit the data on the case we discussed prior to your checking in?” Steve asked, trying to keep the conversation vague in the event of prying ears.
> “Oh, yeah. Of course.” They heard the phone muffle and Roger spoke to someone.
As he uncovered the phone; the same female voice could be heard again. “Sure, take your time. I’m going to freshen up.”
A moment later Roger returned to the line and he spoke hurriedly in hushed tones. “Dammit. I ran into her as I was leaving. I think she expects me to sleep with her.”
The men of the group stifled snorts and Bobby leaned closer to the phone to speak. “I appreciate you taking one for the team, Roger. But we need whatever you could find.”
“Oh, I found quite a bit. You’re definitely not going to like it. Give me a minute. I’ll have to send it via my phone—”
“Negative!” Gregg yelled. “Belay that. Find a secure connection and transmit.”
“I’m sort of in a bind here fellas. We stopped for coffee across from a hotel and she’s wanting us to rent a room for the night. For. The. Night!”
“I have no doubt you can handle her, Agent Wallace,” Jay stated flatly. “You are a trained FBI agent, are you not?”
“Yeah, well so is she.” Roger lowered his voice and sighed into the phone. “What other options are there? It’s not like I can rig up a secure line.”
Bobby held his hand up to get the others’ attention. “Will it make a difference if they realize we’re on to them?”
Jay scratched at his goatee in thought then shook his head. “Worst case scenario is they speed up their timeline.” He gave Bobby a concerned stare. “We may not be able to stop whatever bombing they have planned.”
“It’s not a bombing,” Roger interjected. “Most of it is encrypted but I can still make out some of the documents. You need this info pronto.”
Jay sighed and turned to Bobby. “Up to you, man. This is your life we’re playing with.”
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