by David Spell
Leesburg, Virginia, Wednesday, 0910 hours
McCain sipped his third cup of coffee as he checked his emails. True to the President’s word, everyone who had been a part of the illegal mission into Mexico had seen a ten-thousand-dollar deposit into their bank accounts from Century Tactical as a ‘consulting payment.’ Both the shooters and the support team received the bonus.
Chuck had been at the office for about an hour and a half when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen to see that it was Thomas Burns.
“Burns!” Chuck answered. “The man of the hour. That was some good TV the other night on CNN. Congrats on taking our buddy down.”
“Where were you last night, McCain?” Burns growled.
“Beth and I had dinner with the Flemings and the Smiths. Why?”
“If any three guys could’ve pulled it off, it’s you three.”
“What are you talking about, Burns?” Chuck asked, his irritation rising. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“Sterling is dead. His housekeeper found him about an hour ago. It looks like he got suicided.”
It took a moment for the FBI agent’s words to register.
“You still there, McCain?”
“Yeah, what happened?”
“Someone bypassed his alarm and slipped inside around 2300 last night. They made it look like Max did himself in, like he capped himself with his own gun. The icing on the cake, though, was whoever did it loaded a bunch of gay porn onto his laptop and had it playing on a loop.”
“Why do you think we did it?” Chuck asked, incredulously. “Maybe it’s a legit suicide.”
“I don’t know, McCain. I just thought I’d ask. You and your guys get around. For the record, it will probably be listed as a suicide on the report. I know it’s not, but I’m not sure I can prove it. There are several small pieces of evidence that just don’t add up. Whoever killed him was good. No fingerprints, no DNA, no physical evidence.”
“Maybe little Max really just couldn’t handle what his future was looking like and took the coward’s way out?”
“Could be, but I’ve been doing this a long time. I’m not buying it, but I’m not losing any sleep over it either.”
“Well, it wasn’t us,” Chuck said. “I actually liked the idea of Maxie being somebody’s play toy in a federal pen. Have you told Sandra?”
“No. You want to tell her?”
“Why don’t you call her, Burns? I’m sure she would appreciate it more coming from you.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. By the way, I’m putting in my retirement papers next week. Sandra said you guys might have some work for me out there?”
“I don’t know if you want to do that, Burns. You hang out with us, some of our bad habits might rub off on you.”
“I think they already have, McCain,” the fed laughed.
Fifteen minutes later, Kevin wandered into Chuck’s office, a shocked looked on his face.
“You OK?” McCain asked.
Clark threw himself into one of the chairs in front of the desk.
“The President just called me.”
“Uh oh. Did he find out you voted Democrat when you were eighteen?”
The former Ranger gave a slight smile. “He asked me to take the Ops Director slot at the Agency.”
“Wow! What’d you tell him?”
“I hope you told him yes,” Perkins said as he entered the office, seating himself in the other chair in front of McCain’s desk. He held a large coffee mug with the Army logo on it.
“Yes, sir, I did. I’m sorry I didn’t speak with you about it first.”
The general waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I suggested he offer you the position. It was the least that I could do after turning him down again for the Director’s job.”
“You told the President no?” Chuck asked incredulously.
“He offered it to me before Sterling became the director. Looking back now, I should’ve taken it then, but I was just ready to be retired from government service. Now, he asked me again but I’m pushing eighty years of age. That job needs someone who is young and energetic.”
Kevin looked over at Wallace. “Did the President tell you the caveats of my job offer?”
The older man shook his head, sipping his coffee.
“He said that Sable would be calling me within the hour to offer me the position. President Asher said that I was going to be allowed to rebuild the Ops Directorate however I saw fit. If Vijay wants to continue as the acting director, he’s to leave me alone. The President is feeling pretty good now about his chances for reelection. If he does win, he’ll decide on who he wants to run the Agency.”
“Gotta like that,” McCain spoke up.
“Something else the President mentioned to me is that he’s going to rescind his Executive Order, the one that allowed the CIA to work on American soil. That will be one less thing that the Democrats can use against him in the election. Plus, it appears that the FBI has finally gotten their feet back under them.”
Sandra appeared in Chuck’s doorway.
“The party’s in here this morning, huh?” she asked, rolling her wheelchair in and parking next Perkins.
“Glad you found us, Sandra,” the general smiled. “We have some news that you’ll be interested in.”
“Speaking of news, did you hear that Sterling is dead? I just got off the phone with Thomas.”
Perkins and Clark both looked shocked.
“Sorry about that,” McCain spoke up. “Burns called me a little while ago and I recommended that he be the one to let Sandra know. Then with Kevin leaving us, I forgot all about it.”
“Kevin’s leaving?” Dunning asked in surprise.
Clark quickly recounted his conversation with President Asher. The former Ops Director then related what Burns had told her about Sterling’s death.
“He’s not a hundred percent convinced that we didn’t have something to do with Max’s demise,” she smiled.
Chuck laughed. “He asked me point blank if we did it. I guess I should be flattered.”
“Well, I’m sure that Agent Burns and his team will track down the killer if it was an actual murder instead of a suicide,” Perkins commented.
“Our favorite FBI agent told me that he was turning in his papers next week. He’s retiring and asked if we had any jobs available. I don’t know about jobs but we’ve at least got an empty office,” McCain said, grinning at Clark.
If you enjoyed Storm Clouds Rising, you will love the Zombie Terror War Series by David Spell.
When the Future Ended
The Darkest Part of the Night
When the Stars Fell From the Sky
Running Towards the Abyss
Climbing Out of the Ruins
Where the Vultures Gather
Also check out David’s memoirs from his time as a police officer!
Street Cop
Street Cop II: Reloaded
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