He walked over and sat next to Dentz. “Busted,” he whispered. “An old girlfriend stopped by. Brenda and Jackson suspect something.”
Dentz said, “Michael’s outside. Tuck’s a minute out. Sawyer and Hack are down the road in chase cars.” He pointed to Levi’s black eye and laughed as if they had joked about it, then added, “Monica’s five away. Baker’s in D.C. in a meeting with the Man.”
“Okay. Watch Brenda. She talks to nobody, goes nowhere, makes no calls without one of you guys on her—and I mean on her.”
When Dentz let out another laugh, Levi got up and beckoned to Jackson. “Let’s take it outside.” Levi preceded him into the parking lot, and spotting Michael behind the wheel of his black truck, he made a discreet show of four fingers—Code-four—to signify all’s well. Then he tapped Jackson’s arm. “Far end of the lot. Let’s go.” When they reached a line of mesquite casting brief shadows beneath a rising moon, Levi looked him in the eye. “Let’s talk. No games.”
Jackson edged close and whispered, “Brent’s gonna kill me. I need out.”
“Why? You’re his cousin. Sorry, but I ain’t buyin’ it.”
Kruger’s cousin held up his hands in despair. “It’s true. See, he won’t need me much longer. I know too much, plus I saw him kill a couple a guys.” He looked through Levi toward some unseen thing. “And I think he’s gone nuts.”
Levi showed no physical reaction. But he was thinking. Jackson was providing the classic motivators for revenge. Perhaps too classic. But he’d added that bit about Kruger becoming unhinged—and damned if he hadn’t seen it himself. He motioned with his hand as if to a card dealer. “Gimme.”
Jackson glanced around the barren lot. “Brent helped Amahl escape after the assassination. Then he helped kill three of his guys. Buried ’em beneath a farm house.”
Levi studied him with half-lidded eyes. “Where?”
“Virginia.”
Only a handful of Federal agents knew of the discovery, therefore Jackson could not have known about the kill unless Kruger had told him. But this could be a calculated loyalty test. He pinned Jackson with an icy stare. “That makes you an accessory after the fact to the assassination and the killings.”
Jackson looked at Levi anew. “He threatened to kill me if I said anything.”
“But now you’re a player in a second assassination conspiracy.”
“Duress,” Jackson kicked at the dirt. “Even if it’s not duress, I’d rather spend the rest of my life in prison than be skinned alive—and he’ll do it.”
Levi had to agree with him on that. “What else?”
“Brent got a large shipment of Semtex.” He peered at Levi. “Know what that is?”
“Czech-manufactured plastic explosive.”
“So you are an agent.” Jackson glanced over his shoulder. “Okay. We went to the desert to test a sample. But these two wetbacks saw us, so Kruger shot ’em. He buried ’em right there.”
If that was true then Jackson had sealed his fate by divulging that information. There was but one way to determine his credibility. “Where’re they buried?”
Jackson described the route to the test site and the location of the bodies.
Levi stood still, solid as a battleship. “Okay. Tell me more.”
“Brent’s got me building IEDs. They’ll be timed to detonate beneath high-speed trains out of New York City. There’s more. We’ll have car bombs parked at six key Federal banks. Everything detonates when Kruger moves against Cohen.”
“What’s the plan?”
Jackson scowled. “I don’t know all the details. Kruger holds his cards close. All I know is that he’ll use a mortar hidden inside some kind of truck.”
“Fine. We put you in protective custody, arrest Kruger and prevent the attacks.”
Jackson chewed at his lip, then dropped the bomb. “But then you’ll miss Amahl.”
The president planted his elbow on the chair arm and rubbed his jaw, then said to Baker, “I agree with you in principle but the Secret Service won’t stand for it.” They were in his private office, the light from the small green desk lamp bouncing off various sheets of briefing papers laid out atop the black leather blotter.
Baker tilted his head to one side. “But Levi listened in on that phone conversation. It’s my recommendation that we let Kruger take his people all the way to D.C.”
“You can forget that. The Service wants to cancel the May eighth observance and I’m forced to agree.” He scowled. “If it was only me I’d say bring it on, but a dozen civilians died alongside Melchior. I won’t place innocent bystanders in jeopardy.”
Levi’s body clenched. “Amahl?”
“He’s supposed to show up during the attack.” Jackson frowned. “I don’t know how or when, but he will show.”
Levi recalled Kruger’s reference to a “party” during his conversation with Amahl and considered the options. He could coordinate with the FBI, write the search warrant applications and shut down the entire operation—but, say adios to a chance to capture Amahl. Another thing—Kruger operated within multiple layers of compartmented sleeper cells. They might chop off the head by shutting down the local ops but the rest of the snake would twist and writhe on its own. They had to see this through.
He couldn’t help but think that if Susan hadn’t barged in he might never have learned of Amahl’s pending appearance. Everything happens for a reason, including the deaths of his wife and son. Now he had to get rid of Jackson. But that posed a problem. If he went missing Kruger might panic and cancel the operation, and farewell Mr. Amahl. Levi saw only one solution—he had to kill Jackson. Otherwise Kruger would forever feel threatened. He made his decision and leaned into Jackson. “Give me your hat.”
“What the hell for?”
“Because I fucking said so.”
Jackson looked dubious but handed it over.
“Now come with me.” He took Jackson to Michael’s truck and discreetly frisked him. Finding the .25, he pocketed it and ordered, “Get in.” After Jackson climbed into the passenger seat, Levi asked Michael, “Are Sawyer and Hack still down the street?”
“Quarter mile.”
“Good. This is T.J. Jackson. We’re taking him into protective custody. I’ll explain later. Turn him over to Sawyer and Hack. Close guard. No calls, no nothing.”
“Yes, sir.”
Levi handed over the cowboy hat. “Hold onto this.” He glanced at Jackson, but he’d lost all his bluster and was sitting quietly. Catching Michael’s eye, he said in a low voice, “Susan Kane was here.”
“Whaaat?” Michael pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
“She’s staying at the Doral. It’s a mile south of here. Take Monica with you and get Susan under wraps. I’ll remain here. Notify me once you complete your assignments. Questions?” When Michael shook his head, Levi got out and reached for his cell.
Susan Kane was packing the last of her clothes when she heard a knock at her hotel room door. A shudder coursed through her body. Levi hadn’t really sent his friend. Or had he? Tiptoeing to the door, she looked through the peephole, cried “Oh, my God,” and flung open the door.
“Hello, Susan.” Michael made a half-turn and gestured at Monica. “I’m sure you remember Ms. Mastronardi.”
Susan’s mouth gaped. “I don’t understand.” All at once she did. Looking past his shoulder, she said in a lifeless voice, “I’ve placed him in danger. Haven’t I?”
Michael said soothingly, “Let us in and I’ll explain.” Once inside he produced his credentials. “I’m taking you into custody. It’s for his protection but also yours. The men he’s investigating are quite vicious. There’s no limit to what they’re capable of doing.” When Susan opened her mouth he cut her off. “There’s no time for talk. Let’s go. Now.”
“Excuse me, Mr. President,” Baker said when his cell rang. “They know I’m here so it must be urgent.” He listened to the call, then put the cell away and announced, “Levi’s
just learned that Amahl will join Kruger for the May eighth attack.”
Cohen stood with a sudden energy. “Is that so?” He gazed at Truman’s portrait and said without turning, “Then we must keep that invitation open, no matter the risk.”
“I agree.” Baker stood beside him. “But if I may offer a suggestion, sir.”
“Of course.”
“We modify your official schedule, and add a new component.”
“I’m listening.”
Michael parked at the far end of the Sunset’s rear lot. After Levi stepped from a shadow and got in, Michael told him, “Susan’s been secured. Hack and Sawyer are sitting on Jackson at a motel six miles away.”
Levi discussed Jackson’s revelations and the purported graves, then provided directions to the site. “Have Dentz check it out. If it’s legit we’ll proceed to phase two.” He explained why he had to kill Jackson, and how the team would assist him.
Michael wet his lips. “I see the logic and I agree—there’s no other way. You look beat, by the way. Droopy-eyed, even.” Then he said, “What about Brenda?”
“We’ll cause her disappearance as well.” He described his plan, adding, “But there’s a hitch. Her mother’s in a hospice. If Kruger gets wind that Brenda’s gone he’ll go after the mother. Hitch number two. She’s on life support.”
“Don’t sweat it. Monica and I will take care of the mother.”
Levi got out and vanished into the night, then made his way to the Sunset. Tucker was seated in a corner opposite Dentz. Levi ignored them as he sat at the bar and helped himself to an energy drink. He gulped it down. The rush hit so hard that his hands trembled as he tapped out a text message to Tucker. HAVE PLAN. WILL REVEAL LATER. ONE OF U CAN LEAVE. As he sent the message the door opened. He held his breath. The last thing he needed was to see the lissome, black-haired dance girl.
When Brian walked in Levi relaxed; he’d apparently frightened her away.
But Brian looked somber as he approached Levi and said, “Something I gotta tell you. About Brenda. She’s all I think about. All I wanna do is hold her. Kiss her. Love her.” He shifted from foot to foot. “The other night, an’ after you left this morning…” He held his head high. “It ain’t her fault. I forced myself on her. Now go on. Deck me.”
Levi said with real respect, “Why? You’re bein’ upfront. I’m honored.”
Brian raised a pierced eyebrow. “You’re not pissed? ’Cause you’re my best friend ever but I screwed you over.”
“Bri. I wasn’t ’zactly in no coma. I heard you hosin’ her. If I cared I’d a killed you by now.” As Brenda drew near he added, “Plus, ya’ll are in love.” He watched their eyes meet, saw the shy smiles they offered one another. Grabbing two beers, he nudged Brian toward a table that offered a view of the entire bar. Then he began to think.
He had a professional obligation to coldly cultivate sources of information and sometimes that meant addressing his source’s needs. But on occasion the most satisfying part was crunching crossword puzzles until he found a way to make them fit for everyone’s benefit. Despite all he had on his mind, he would manage yet another task.
Dentz left minutes later, then Tucker got up and drifted out the door. Michael sauntered in around ten and took a seat at the bar. While he ordered a rum and coke, Levi typed a text message beneath the table: GOING TO CABIN SOON. U STAY HERE A BIT. WILL CONTACT U LATER. After sending the text he engaged Brian in idle talk.
Brenda finished early and Levi wanted to get her into a controlled environment, so he led them to the cabin. To maintain a sense of what passed for normalcy in this tilted world, he took some heroin to the kitchen and cooked it in the bent spoon. But when they looked away he dumped it down the drain and drew a harmless mixture of purified water, food coloring and citrus juice into the syringe—the citrus juice to cause a track mark.
Trembling for real because he wanted the heroin, he set the syringe on the night stand. Brian suggested that he lay off but Levi said he needed it—and Brenda encouraged him. After some desultory banter he got undressed and turned in. Brian and Brenda made eye contact before Brian padded to the couch, stripped and lay down.
Once Brian began snoring, Levi took Brenda into his arms and said in a low voice, “Bri told me you two spent the day in the sack.”
Her breath caught. “I…”
“Hell, I don’t care. Him an’ you are in love. I should be so lucky.”
She turned quiet, then whispered, “I been spying on you. For Kruger.”
He touched her cheek. “I know. It’s ’cause a your mom. Hey, you did what you had to do. I ain’t mad.”
When her tears came he held her close until she hitched and snuffled. But when she touched him intimately he stopped her. “You belong to Bri now—an’ I need to slam.” With that, he raised a vein and got her to inject him. After willing his eyes to glaze over, he mumbled, “Bri’s gonna want his woman. Now go to your man’s bed.” She kissed his mouth and said no, that she would stay and take care of him, and laying her head on his shoulder, she fell asleep. Levi did not sleep. He remained awake. Vigilant.
When his watch showed 4:00 a.m. he got up and pulled on OD pants. Retrieving the surveillance detectors, he swept the room and then ventured outside. Sharp rocks stabbed his feet. Goosebumps rippled the death skulls and scorpions on his torso, the Swastikas on his shoulders and the SS flashes on his arms. His black eye had grown darker and he’d lost so much weight, his pants were in danger of falling. He rolled up the cuffs to keep from stepping on them, revealing the barbed-wire tattoo shackling his left ankle. Glancing at his arm, he noted a new track mark, courtesy of the citrus juice. Shivering, he called Michael and gave him a revised plan, then rummaged through the Harley’s leather tool pouch for a pair of pliers. Finding them, he shoved them into a back pocket and went inside to wait.
When he heard tires crunching against the dirt ten minutes later, he looked out a window as a brown van drifted to a stop outside the cabin. He went to the door, opened it, and seconds later Tucker, Monica and Michael trooped inside.
Brenda bolted upright, holding the blanket to her breasts and pointing at Monica. “Hey! You’re that college bimbo. The one that screwed Eric.”
Brian stirred, sat up and rubbed his eyes, then watched silently.
Levi closed the door and turned on the lights. “Brenda? I am Deputy U.S. Marshal Levi Hart.” When she reared back he gestured at Monica. “Deputy Mastronardi and I were sitting in her car discussing a case. You saw another couple in that car having sex.”
“Bullshit. I watched you gettin’ it on. Hell, you even bragged about it.”
“You watched someone else. I let you believe it was me. I never cheated on you.”
“Liar! You fucked that bitch you danced with. You did her in the men’s room.”
In a flash it made sense. He glanced sidelong at her. “Is that why you doped me? Because of her?”
Her eyes turned dark. “Since ya ask, yeah. Her, an’ them three sluts you nailed in this very bed.”
“Brenda. Everything was illusion. I never had sex with anyone else.”
“Gimme a break.” Then doubt seeped in. She crunched her face. “Truth?”
“Truth.” He paused. “But I did live under false colors. I also manipulated you, and treated you like dirt. I’m so sorry about that.”
“The crazy lady who came here—the one what called you Levi?”
“Old friend who didn’t know what I do for a living. She blew my cover.” He fell silent, then faced Brian. “Questions?”
Brian stared back without emotion or judgment. “No. I get it.”
Monica pointed to the tatts on Brian’s stomach. “What’s with the trash trucks?”
“My boss wanted ’em. He’s got this big thing about garbage trucks. Don’t ask me why.”
“Hmm.” Turning, she appraised Levi’s forehead and bare torso. “I need pictures of your tatts for the gang database. Brian’s, too.” She got her cell and photogra
phed Levi’s first, including his ankle, the Iron Crosses and the Gott Mit Uns on his back. Then Brian stood naked, turning for her without shame while she took shots of his tatts.
After Brenda and Brian got dressed, Levi told them, “My colleagues will take you to a safe location. Kruger will never find either of you. I guarantee it.” He took hold of Brenda’s arms. “You’ll proceed from here to your mother’s hospice. We’ve arranged for a private ambulance. We’re checking her out and bringing her along.”
Brenda brought her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. “My mama? You made sure about Mama?” A tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered, “Bless your heart.”
Levi flicked his eyes at Brian. “You’ve got a good man here.” He coaxed them together and Brian draped a possessive arm around her shoulders. Levi said, “We have to roll. Don’t worry about Kruger. He won’t suspect a thing.” He paused. “Trust me.”
“I do.” She embraced him and kissed his cheek. Stepping back into Brian’s arms, she said, “Be careful. He’s a whack job. He’ll get you.”
While Monica led her to the van, Tucker said to Levi beneath his breath, “Dentz reconned the burial site and confirmed Jackson’s story.”
“Then we’ll proceed with our plan.” He met Tucker’s eye, then waited until he walked out before shifting his focus to Michael and Brian.
Michael overtly looked at Levi’s arms. “Go easy on the drugs, hombre. You look like crap.” After a pause he said to Brian, “Give me your car keys. I’ll take it along.”
Brian handed them over. Then as tears streamed down his cheeks he cleared his throat and whispered to Levi, “I won’t never see you again. Will I?”
“Take care of Brenda.”
“Wait.” Brian forced a smile. “Can we smoke some weed? For old times?” His eyes darted about. “I—I’ll even do some junk with ya. If you want.”
Cobra Clearance Page 22