Romeo's Tell (A disappearance mystery turned international thriller)

by William Neubauer

  Fox and Jarboe took seats at the table.

  Chad regarded them cautiously. “Well, Agent Fox, I’m all ears.”

  Chapter 75

  Fox took a minute to look around the table, then started his pitch. “Let me just lay it out for you. We’ll drop all charges, the leak charge as well as the espionage charge. And we’ll give statements of your innocence to your attorneys to hold in escrow. In turn, we want you to act as if you are still outside the law and work for us undercover.”

  Chad was unimpressed and a bit dumbfounded. “You guys been doing some of the drugs you’ve been confiscating?”

  Neither of the two agents found that one amusing. The two lawyers did their best to act like they didn’t.

  Chad continued. “First off, in case you’ve forgotten who brought me here, I’ve recently been with the police. There will be news stories about what happened at Murdoch Vineyards and—”

  “We’ve handled all that with local law enforcement. The story will go out that Drake confronted Murdoch and Murdoch was killed in the ensuing struggle. No one will know of your involvement.”

  “What about the fact that I’m talking with you right now?”

  “Also a very closely guarded secret. Why do you think you’re in a safe house instead of a jail cell?”

  Realizing this tack wasn’t getting him anywhere, Chad switched gears. “Look, we all know I am completely innocent of the Chinese nonsense. You have nothing to hold over me.”

  “We’ll prosecute you on the leak charge,” Fox countered.

  “Well Agent Mulder, between you and me, I didn’t do that one either.”

  This drew varied reactions around the table.

  John Quincy and Meeks were a bit startled, since their defense of Paula Andrews wasn’t fully baked enough just yet to go public with the fact that Chad had never been the source of the top secret information divulged in her exposé.

  As for Fox, he did not appreciate Chad’s obviously intentional mix-up of his name with that of the Fox Mulder character of The X-Files TV series. “Gee, never heard that one before, Mr. Swan—oh sorry, Doctor Swan. What a quick wit you are,” Fox said with molasses-thick sarcasm.

  Jarboe worked hard at concealing the involuntary grin that had found its way to his face.

  “Sorry. I really don’t want to offend anyone. I’ve been through hell the last few days, I’m tired of all this, and I just want to go home.”

  “Well, unfortunately, we have your self-admitted statement regarding the leak to your sister-in-law. And if it turns out that statement was false, we’ll have you on making false statements to the FBI.”

  “You guys need to read your email more carefully.”

  “What?” Fox demanded.

  “I never admitted anything. I said I knew you guys were looking for the source of the leak. I said you should call your dogs off Paula and sick them on me. I said that by the time you got the message I would have left the country. You guys were the ones who filled in the conclusions. Go ahead, check for yourself.”

  “We’ll just prosecute your sister-in-law then,” Fox said.

  “Come on. At this point? Really? You know as well as I do that every word of that exposé was true. Project Bigeye was an unmitigated disaster. Everybody knows it now. John Quincy’s going to take her case anyway.”

  John Quincy brought his hand up to the side of his head and rolled his eyes as if Chad had just let the cat out of the bag.

  Fox sat back in his chair. “This is getting us nowhere. Let me tell you how it really is. Not this petty stuff. Something bigger.”

  “As I said, I’m all ears,” Chad said.

  Fox took a few seconds to organize his mental reboot. “Have you heard of an organization called the Conclave?”

  “Just rumors. I wouldn’t put money on the thing even existing.”

  “Oh, we know it exists. But that’s all we know. Besides, of course, the fact that they have a hand in most of the evil that takes place on the planet. Social unrest, drug cartels, stock market manipulation, assassinations, terrorist strikes, you name it.”

  “Religious fanatics?”

  “No, religion has nothing to do with it, other than they might use religious and whatever order of fanatics they can find to further their ends when necessary. Their only religion is profit and power.”

  “Look, I’m sure they’re very bad guys, but that’s just all the more reason you don’t need me. I’m no operative.”

  “We know that. But the Conclave has already taken an interest in you. They know about you, what you know, and what you can do. So you have an advantage in getting inside—because you’ve been in their sights.”

  “Now you lost me.”

  Fox paused briefly for dramatic effect. He wanted this to count. “We don’t know exactly in what way, but you caused them problems. They tried to kill you.”

  Chad scrunched up his face. “Well, even if that’s true—which I seriously doubt—since I’m still here, it looks like they either missed or changed their minds. No harm, no foul, right? I’m not doing anything now that would get in anyone’s way and I don’t plan to. So, if you’re offering me a deal in exchange for dropping the leak charge, I think I’ll live a lot longer just taking my chances with my fine lawyers here.”

  “Actually, there was a foul. It was the Conclave who set you up on the Chinese encryption thing.”

  Chad shrugged, feigning indifference to some extent, a little less sure of himself now.

  Fox stayed on the offensive, setting Chad up for the bomb. “And they didn’t miss completely when they tried to kill you.”

  Now Fox had Chad’s full attention. He didn’t say anything, just looked intently at Fox, waiting for the other shoe.

  “They rigged your car and unintentionally killed your wife instead of you.”

  The bricks of realization hit Chad squarely between the eyes. How could he not have seen this as soon as Fox said that the Conclave had tried to kill him?

  Chad looked down at the table in deep thought and silence. The others waited for an uncomfortably long time.

  “I have some conditions,” he eventually said, without looking up.

  Chapter 76

  “Conditions?” Fox said. “We’ll consider requests.”

  Chad took on an expression of indifference. “Call ‘em what you like. If you want me to do what you’re asking, you need to hear me out.”

  “Go ahead then,” Fox said blandly, issuing an icy stare.

  “First—and I hardly count this one since it needs to be done anyway—all charges against Paula Andrews and any related charges I’m subject to need to be dropped.”

  Fox tipped his head down and looked out the top of his eye sockets as if glaring at Chad over a pair of non-existent reading glasses. “You may not be counting that one, but I am.” After a brief pause, he prompted Chad. “Go on.”

  “Second, Angel had to leave a really good systems job to help me. Since the whole reason I had to involve Angel and go through all the cloak-and-dagger BS was due to a false charge, I want you guys to place him in something at least comparable when he’s recovered.”

  Fox thought silently for a few seconds. “That’s possible, if he’s qualified.”

  “He is. Don’t worry about that. He’s as good as you’ll find—better.”

  Chad was on a roll, so he just kept it going. “Next, I have no earthly idea why, but Morgan has it in her head that she wants to work with your buddies at Langley.”

  Fox rolled his eyes. “What, are you an employment agency now?”

  “Hey we’re FBI, not CIA,” Jarboe interjected.

  “Come on. I know you have contacts at Langley. All I’m asking is you see that they give her an honest look.”

  Fox looked at Chad sternly. “I’m certain she would have to fully qualify and go through the complete training program, including military fitness testing, hand-to-hand combat, jump school, the whole deal.”

  “That’s a given. Hell, she cou
ld probably teach the hand-to-hand and jump school.”

  Fox shot Chad yet another dubious look. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he started to get up from the table.

  “Sit down. I’m not done.”

  Fox stopped in mid-rise and stooped over looking down at Chad for a moment as if thinking whether or not he should continue to put up with this. He slowly sat back down.

  “I’ve got just two more things.”

  “Two more,” Fox repeated in disbelief.

  “Yeah, two.”

  After a dramatic pause, Fox spoke, anticlimactically. “Go on.”

  “I’d like to be able to spend a little time with Jane Mannix and her son, maybe meet for lunch or something.”

  This was met with surprised and indignant looks from both Fox and Jarboe.

  “Hey, you guys are asking me to step out into the cold and stay there for a while—indefinitely— right?”

  Fox let out a long breath and looked at Jarboe.

  Jarboe picked up on the cue. “We can probably set something up here. We’ll have to have somebody transport them.”

  “I can help with that,” John Quincy said.

  “They can’t be privy to any of the details of your arrangement with us. Only your attorneys can know. Understood?” Fox said this quite deliberately, obviously expecting confirmation from Chad.

  “Agreed.”

  Another brief pause was interrupted by Fox. “What’s the last thing?”

  “Tomorrow, my daughter is graduating with a BA in Law & Jurisprudence.”

  “We already told you we’d see what we can do with Langley.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s not that. I want to see her graduate.”

  This time it was Jarboe who seemed a bit exasperated. “We can’t agree to that. Even with an outdoor graduation, it would seriously jeopardize what may already be a thin cover. You have to act like you’re running from the law—or at least like you’re not trying to get caught.”

  “You guys are the FBI, right? The preeminent law enforcement agency in the free world? I’m sure you can figure something out. How about one of those high-tech disguises?”

  “You’ve watched too much Mission Impossible,” Fox said.

  John Quincy had been very quiet during this part of the discussion. His wheels were turning. “I have a thought,” he offered.

  The others stopped talking and turned their attention to the creative attorney.

  “I have a CEO friend at one of our Fortune 100 clients who owes me a favor.”

  Fox looked skeptical. “How big a favor and how can it help with this?”

  “Oh, it’s a pretty big favor. It would have to be for him to do what I’m going to ask, particularly with such short notice. But if it can be arranged, I think it will solve our problem. I’d need some help from your communications people, Special Agent Jarboe.”

  Jarboe shrugged. “If I can. What did you have in mind?”

  “Give me a few hours to firm this up, then I’ll go over the details with you, okay?”

  Chad cast a sideways look in John Quincy’s direction.

  “I got this,” John Quincy responded to the question on Chad’s face.

  Chad shrugged and nodded, well aware of the younger man’s knack for solving unusual problems.

  Fox made sure everyone was clear. “No promises until we hear the details of this . . . scheme. Agreed?”

  All around the table indicated their agreement.

  Turning to Chad, Fox asked what he hoped was the last question of the meeting. “Are we done, then?”

  “We’re done.”

  Chapter 77

  Maria Sanchez hadn’t slept for over twenty-four hours. Her best opportunity had been during the flight from Phoenix to Rochester, but she had been too worried to sleep. She hoped to sleep soon. Things were looking better now; the doctors had indicated they were certain things were going to be okay.

  Maria’s fiancé, Angel Cruz, had regained consciousness a few hours earlier and was now in and out, but was clearly improving. In her hand she held an envelope marked for Angel, which had been delivered just minutes earlier. As she clutched the unopened envelope and watched Angel from the one chair in his hospital room, she closed her eyes to rest them for a moment. Mere seconds later, her head began to sink downward and she fell into a light sleep.

  “Maria?” Angel’s soft voice woke her. He was trying to sit up.

  “Angel, let me help you,” she said, jumping to her feet and grasping the hand control to adjust the bed. She pressed the button to raise Angel’s head.

  “Thank you sweetheart. Have you slept?” he asked.

  “Just a bit, but there will be time later. Are you feeling any better?”

  “Much. I think I could eat now.”

  At that moment, one of Angel’s nurses—apparently one with particularly sensitive patient radar—sailed briskly into the room along with her loud, cheery voice. “So, you’re hungry. I’ll get that ribeye on for ya,” she said with a smile.

  “Can’t fool me. It will probably be steak-flavored Jello.” Angel was back.

  The nurse breezed out of the room to go order some bland hospital fixin’s for her patient.

  “Angel, this envelope came for you. Want me to open it?” Maria asked.

  “Yeah, please.”

  Maria gently tore open the envelope, slid the contents out, and started to hand them to Angel.

  “Read it to me, would you?”

  “Of course,” said Maria. As she began to unfold the letter explaining the rest of the contents, a couple of the items slipped away and fell to the floor. She picked them up, noticing they looked like airline tickets, and placed them on the edge of Angel’s bed.

  She unfolded the letter completely. “It’s from Chad,” she announced.

  Dear Angel,

  I’m so sorry for what you have been through but am very happy that you are on the mend. To help with your recuperation, enclosed are roundtrip tickets to San Salvador for you and Maria. You will be staying at the InterContinental Real for 7 days and then be off for another 7 at Playa El Palmarcito.

  This has already been cleared with Maria’s employer as well as with your new employer, which is the next thing I need to tell you about. Assuming you want it, there is a position for you as an IT Analyst in the FBI Field Office in Phoenix. Some new “friends” helped open the door, but once the Phoenix folks saw your credentials and learned that you already have your citizenship, they wanted you as soon as they could get you.

  Please contact Nora Givens at A & A Litigation (I’m told you already have her contact information) for more details or if you have any questions or problems. Take good care, my friend, and thank you again. I hope to see you and your lovely fiancée for a mojito on the beach in the not too distant future.

  Chad

  Angel smiled at Maria. “Pack your bags, mi querida.”

  Chapter 78

  It was a bright, sunny, and absolutely gorgeous late-May Sunday morning—commencement day at Amherst College. Hundreds of perfectly white folding chairs were set against the lush green grass and shade trees of the school’s Main Quadrangle, accommodations for the graduating class of 424 students and their guests. Many of the guests were already seated, as others continued milling-in to the sound of birds happily chirping in the trees. The Goodyear blimp hovered peacefully overhead, presumably on its way to Fenway for the Red Sox game. Cameramen were in their stands preparing to record all the proceedings at the auspicious event. Everything was ready.

  Morgan surveyed the scene, looking for John Quincy, who had called her on her cell about twenty minutes earlier. The degree candidates were not really supposed to be on the Quadrangle just yet, but John Quincy had said it was urgent that he see Morgan for just a minute before the ceremony. He had apologized for the extremely short notice, saying that a few details had just recently been worked out. When Morgan had asked what he was talking about, he just said he would explain when he saw her. But she didn
’t see him around right now, and time was getting short.

  Just when she was thinking that she had maybe fifteen minutes to slip into her cap and gown and get into position and that he’d better hurry up, she noticed a limo stop on the roadway a couple hundred feet away. She watched for a moment and saw John Quincy hop out of the sleek, black, impeccably kept vehicle, which then drove off.

  Morgan raised her right hand high and waved as she started walking toward him. “JQ, over here,” she called across the quad. Morgan was the only one who referred to John Quincy as JQ, owing to the fact that she had had trouble pronouncing his full name when she was a toddler. John Quincy didn’t mind Morgan using the shortened moniker at all—in fact, he kind of liked it. Still, he didn’t let anyone else get away with it, save Morgan’s dad when he would fall victim to the occasional slip.

  With both of them walking toward each other, the two met up in half the time, in a more open area of the quad where there was a gap in the trees. They hadn’t seen each other in a while and shared a welcoming hug.

  As he would frequently do, John Quincy dispensed with the “so good to see you” pleasantries and just started the conversation. “Is it too early to say congratulations? It’s not bad luck or anything, is it?”

  “No, no. The degree’s in the bag, JQ, no problem. And thank you. So where’s your handsome brother?” she asked, paying him an indirect compliment.

  “John’s with your dad, Jane, and her son.”

  “Jane? Jane Mannix? You guys know her?”

  “Sure. We’ve been out of touch but yeah. Why, John has had a thing for her since we were kids. He’s in heaven right now, in more ways than one.” John Quincy let out a short laugh at the thought of what he was about to relate. “John is the best litigator I’ve ever known, but when he realized he was going to see Jane again, he just became a tongue-tied dimwit. Never saw anything like it.”