The Iscariot Factor (Half Staff Book 2)

by Rick Mitchell

  She has a son who wants to move back to town and she would like to have him close. She said that she would be willing to pay whatever it appraised for.”

  “Off the cuff I’d say yes to Ms. Cranston.” Kevin said, while looking over to his mother. “Mom, do you have a problem if I sell the property? I plan to stay in the Army, and the house would fall apart long before I would ever get back to it. I am not even sure I would ever come back to live in it. Do you and Dad want it?”

  Kevin’s mother looking over to George to answer their son’s question, “Kevin, it’s your house. As far as your mom and me wanting it, we live too far away to maintain it. So you do what you think is right.”

  “Then Mr. Meadow I think you have the answer. Go ahead and let Ms. Cranston know the place is hers if she wants it. Mom, why don’t you go through the house and pick out everything you want to keep. We can rent a storage building to store it. Everything else left in the house can go to Ms. Cranston if she needs it; or it can go to Goodwill. Dad, I’m going to drive grandpa’s pickup while I am here but I want you to have it when I leave. Mr. Meadow can you make sure the title is signed over to my father please?”

  They shook hands with Taylor and agreed to speak again in two days. Once outside Kevin began taking off his tie and headed for his grandfather’s truck. Before he turned the ignition key, he paused, considering what his grandfather had just done.

  It was now time to do the last thing he would ever do for his grandfather. He was going to rid the earth of the human garbage that had taken his life. He checked the time on his grandfather’s watch, the one the Sheriff had returned to him during their meeting.

  The funeral was over and the mission was now his priority. He watched the second hand and heard the faint ticking coming from the old Timex. He made a silent vow that he would die with this watch on his arm; but it was someone else’s turn first.

  Before beginning the search he needed to learn about the two men at the service; the same two now sitting in the parking lot across the street. Kevin turned off the truck, opened the glove box and removed his grandfather’s Colt Model 1911 pistol.

  As he exited the pickup he slid the large 45 caliber WWII era pistol in the rear of his pants, covered it with his jacket, and proceeded to walk across the street toward the men. The men began looking at each other, unsure what to do as he approached. To Kevin, their choice was simple; flight or fight. And at that moment he didn’t give a crap which one they chose.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Pat told Beth everything that occurred that day. Everything minus what he couldn’t share due to national security. The official explanation, at least to his wife, was that his name surfaced in a job opening in the CIA. Director Don Lake then approached President Ward, asking if he would have a problem with Pat being vetted for the job.

  The President knowing the position would be a huge opportunity, he approved his name in the running. Then Director Lake then visited Secret Service Director Janet Watson, who wasn’t about to say no to anything the President had already given his blessing to.

  He told Beth he never fathomed it would be a Deputy Director’s position. He hated not being able to share everything with Beth.

  Beth asked how much money a Deputy Director makes and Pat had to admit it hadn’t occurred to him to ask. They spent the next couple of hours, over wine, finding all they could about the position of Deputy Director within the CIA.

  When they came on government salaries for the position, they both just sat back in their sofa, with their glasses of wine, and smiled. At 6:30 the next morning Pat kissed his wife, picked up his bags, and was heading out the door when his cell phone rang.

  “Director Drice?”

  “Yes, this is Pat Drice.”

  “Sir, we are outside waiting with your car whenever you are ready to head to Andrews. Didn’t want to bother you, but wanted to remind you that you are wheels up at 0800 hours.”

  “Who is we?”

  “Sir, Agent’s Willis and Moore; we are assigned to take you to Andrews this morning. We are also prepared to travel with you this morning if you wish.”

  “I’ll be out in just a second.”

  Looking at Beth, “It looks like I went from guarding the President to having guards of my own; is this a crazy world, or what? I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  Pat sat in the back of the Suburban and made small talk with Agents Mike Willis and Jeff Moore. Both seemed like good guys, and Pat did everything he could to make them fill comfortable with him. Once at Andrew’s Pat walked away to have a private conversation with Director Lake.

  The Director told him that both men were assigned to him and to use them as he saw fit. The Director knew each man personally pulling them out of his own team. He assured Pat that he could share anything with these two men, and it would not be repeated. But the Director also said that it was fully up to Pat to decide when and what he shared.

  Pat told the men he would not need them for this trip, but looked forward to getting to know them better once he returned. They seemed disappointed they wouldn’t be traveling with their new Deputy Director.

  When he climbed aboard he headed straight to the cockpit to introduce himself. The copilot handed him a packet which contained the team’s CIA documents and copies of other files he had requested. He told the copilot he was ready to go, but the copilot told him that Director Lake had added a last minute passenger to the flight.

  A few seconds later a female came onboard, held out her hand, and introduced herself to Pat as Agent Emily Watts. She told Pat she had been assigned as his personal assistant. An attractive woman, probably somewhere in her late twenties; Pat knew that Agent Watts was going to be a hard sell to Beth.

  Pat shaking her hand, asked, “Agent Watts welcome aboard; just how much do you know about our mission today?”

  “Sir, Director Lake asked me to hand you this letter once you asked that very question.”

  Pat walked to the rear of the plane, opened the letter and began reading. He then returned and motioned for her to sit, since the aircraft had begun moving. They sat across from each other in leather chairs.

  “Did you read the letter?” Pat asked.

  “No Sir,”

  “It tells me that you have been fully briefed on our mission. Can I ask you when this briefing took place?”

  “Yes Sir. My briefing started yesterday afternoon, soon after your meeting with the President and Director Lake. And we met for a few minutes this morning at Langley. That is why I was late for the flight. I apologize for being late, Sir.”

  Pat frowning, “Agent Watts, I don’t care about your being late, but I do care if our mission is being spread across the CIA.”

  “Director Drice, I can only tell you my responsibilities as I understand them. I am here to help you navigate the waters between the CIA and other agencies. I …Sir, can I ask you a question?”

  “Certainly”

  “I understand that until yesterday you were the Agent-in-Charge of the President’s security. I don’t know a lot about the Secret Service, but I believe that I would be correct in saying that it took more than three or four of you to keep the President safe.”

  Pat started to answer but was cut off, “I would expect layers of protocols and people working a hundred different jobs to protect the President; would I be correct?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “So we are headed to God knows where to pick up a team of people you have unwavering faith in. I’ve read the file to find that a handful of people have held this secret for over a year. Don’t you think it is about high time you gents got some help? Someone leaked this, holding up the theory, and I want to help you find them.”

  Pat waited a moment to see if she was finished speaking, “Emily, is it alright if I call you Emily this one time? Pat asked. She shook her head yes.

  “Emily, it has been a great burden for all involved in holding silent about the assassinations. My answer would have been to turn over every ro
ck until we found those responsible. But it wasn’t my call.

  “Did you read in those files that Doug Morgan’s brother Reed also knows the truth about that day? If I were him I would probably be screaming it to the world. But to protect the balance of his family he felt he had little choice.

  “I agree with everything you just said and I am glad to have you as an integral part of this mission. As long as you promise to be as real with me as you were a moment ago, you and I will get along splendidly. I think I am going to nickname you Edna; Edna it is. OK Edna, where are we going first?”

  -----

  President Ward and Director Lake where having coffee in the Oval Office discussing all that had gone on since their meeting with Pat Drice a day earlier.

  “Is Pat in the air yet?”

  “Yes Sir, they were a few minutes late because of Agent Watts being added to the flight last minute.”

  “How did he take the news of the addition to the team?”

  Director Lake smiling, “Well Sir, when I spoke to him this morning I could hear hesitation in his voice. But Drice is a smart guy; he has to understand that he and his little Commando team can’t pull this off by themselves.”

  Thomas Ward returning the smile, “I don’t know Lake, that little team as you called it put away one of the largest drug dealers in the world. And then acting on minuscule evidence, took down key players in a conspiracy who assassinated a President of the United States. I don’t think I would be putting any labels on them.”

  “Yes Sir, I apologize if I came off wrong on this. I agree with you assessment, Drice is fully calling the shots on this. I am here to support him as needed.”

  The President relaxing his look, “I appreciate that. I take it then you didn’t make Pat aware that Agent Watts is more than meets the eye?”

  “I did what you asked and pulled her out of our Behavioral Science Unit. Her mission is to discover if any team members were involved in the release of the conspiracy brief.”

  “And Pat knows what?”

  “That Agent Watts was handpicked by me to act in a liaison role between agencies as needed.”

  There was a knock on the Oval office door and Edna escorted NSA Director Blake Sessions into the room. The President meets the Director halfway across the office. After pleasantries were exchanged the President noticed Edna was lingering a little longer than usual.

  “Edna, is there something else?”

  “Mr. President, Randal Hargrove keeps calling. He wants to set up a meeting with you at your earliest convenience.”

  “Tell him that I am booked solid today. Let him know that you will contact him as soon as something opens. And Edna, do you know when that open slot will come up?”

  “From that frown on your face Mr. President, I would say when Hell freezes over.” Edna said flatly.

  “Probably not that long, but let’s hold him off a couple of days.”

  “You’re the President” Edna said as she turned and walked back to her office.

  Moving back toward the couch the President said to his guests, “Sorry gentlemen, he just wants to bust my chops over Drice. I’m sure that he and Wilson have been burning up the phones since I told her Pat was moving to the CIA.”

  Trying to break the tension, NSA Director Sessions spoke, “Sir, I figured that was your normal conversation with Edna when any of the Directors wished to speak with you.”

  The President smiling, “Blake, I am glad to see that you brought your keen sense of humor with you this morning. I have a suspicion that it may come in handy in a few minutes.”

  Now the NSA Director was the one frowning, “OK you two, what do you have up your sleeves?”

  Director Lake had been quiet as a church mouse and Sessions noticed he was avoiding all eye contact with him. “Lake, what are you getting me, better yet, what have you gotten me into this time?” Blake asked his longtime friend, and poker buddy.

  President Ward chimed in, “Don, you better let me answer this one.”

  The President moved back to his desk and started shuffling papers as if he were looking for something. Both men had played the game long enough to know that he had moved to the position of power so he would come off more Presidential.

  “Blake, not going to beat around the bush, I have a national security issue that takes precedence over almost everything on the threat boards today. The CIA is leading the charge and I expect your full support.”

  “Yes Sir; whatever you need from our team. We are always more than eager to support you.”

  “I appreciate that Blake; I do. But the matter is so sensitive I will not be able to share it with your team. I am afraid for now I will also have to keep you in the dark.”

  Blake couldn’t believe what he had just heard from the President, “Sir, I am the Director of the National Security Agency. There is no national security crisis that I should be in the dark on.”

  “Trust me; this is for your own good. I have no clue how this is going to pan out and I need to keep certain leadership clean if it all falls apart around my head.”

  Lake spoke, “I see where I am in all this; I guess I’m disposable.”

  The President happy for this moment of levity, “No Don, you are not disposable. What you are is a shadow. We can see where you have been, but just can’t get a good hold on you.”

  Not laughing, Sessions asked, “If I can’t know about this big secret then why exactly am I even sitting here?”

  The President answered, “You heard that I moved Agent Drice to the CIA. I also need a couple of your agents to transfer also.”

  “Transferred like in a joint taskforce, or what, Sir?”

  The President answering, “No, like Don takes two of your people and we owe you a huge favor. Blake, this is so sensitive we must keep a short reign on this.”

  Blake looking at Don Lake, “Anyone in mind or are you looking for specific job skills?” All the sudden everything became much clearer to him.

  “NO, HELL NO,” Blake raising his voice to Don.

  Turning toward the President, “Mr. President, I don’t know what scam Director Lake is pulling over on you. If he thinks for one second that I am going to turn the twins over to his goons at the Central Intelligence Agency…Well, he best think again!”

  The President held both arms out to ease the tension. “Blake, I wouldn’t ask this of you if it weren’t necessary to the mission and I will owe you one huge favor. I promise I will get Wilson and Lansing back to you as soon as possible.”

  Director Sessions sitting back down on the couch, “Sir, can you at least give me an idea what they will be doing for the CIA. We have practically raised these two boys from birth and I can’t just transfer them without giving them a damn good reason. I am not sure how they will adjust to the change.

  Director Lake laughing, “Sir, what Blake is saying is that these young men are accustomed to special treatment. They probably believe they work for Google, or Microsoft. They spend their days sitting on beach balls and wearing tie-dye shirts.”

  Sessions suddenly back on his feet, as the President attempts to calm the room down once again. “Don, that was totally uncalled for. I, for one, believe these two young men deserve special treatment. I know for a fact these two helped keep us out of a war with both Pakistan and Iran a few years back.

  Sessions speaking up, “Mr. President, Wilson and Lansing are the greatest human assets the NSA has in place. They run critical analysis weekly and I believe that we will be doing the United States disservice to pull them out for a side job with the CIA.”

  Lake saying, Blake, I promise that I will take good care of them. I will also get them back to you as soon as humanly possible. I recognize their importance to the NSA; that is precisely why I need them. Trust me; this mission will need the best to succeed. I am sorry if I said anything to piss you off and I would greatly appreciate your support.”

  Blake relented and said he would call Wilson and Lansing into his office the next morning and tel
l them about their temporary transfer. After Director Sessions left the room, the President said, “Don, you realize in the morning he is going to order them to report to him weekly on all they are doing. How are we going to shut this crap down before it starts?”

  “I have already taken care of it. I made sure Pat’s team would be as far removed from the beltway as possible.”

  The President responded, “If you can find a place on the dark side of the moon, I would feel better. If any of this gets out before we are ready, we’re screwed.”

  Director Lake smiling, “I can’t exactly promise you the far side of the moon; but it’s pretty damn close.”

  -----

  The newly promoted CIA Deputy Director was in the air again. Their first stop had been Joint Station Charleston, in South Carolina. They found Major Ron Collins waiting for them in the officer’s mess. Collins was on temporary duty assignment at Joint Station Charleston, training the base’s Security Specialist in counter-terrorism tactics.

  Ron listened patiently as Pat systematically laid out the events of the last few days. As he would with all the team members, Pat gave Major Collins the opportunity to speak with the President if he had any concerns. After sharing how important his old team was for the success of the mission, he asked if he had any questions.

  The Major was silent for a moment and then asked two questions. First, he wanted to know where his new CIA duty assignment would be so he could tell his wife where they were moving. And secondly, once this mission was over, would he and his team be able to return to their Air Force careers?

  Pat told Ron they would probably be stationed at Langley, but hadn’t asked. He told Ron he would work toward having that answer by the end of day. The second question was easier, as Pat had already asked this question during the Oval Office meeting.

  He told Ron they would not be allowed to return to Air Force active duty. This mission would require a permanent separation from the military. The President did not want to get bitten twice.