Robert decided to redirect the line of questioning away from Grady. Grady wanted to be missing, and focusing too much on any aspect of the police investigations might give Carey cause to wonder about Grady’s “death.”
Robert paused before asking, “What about Hunt? Have you found out anything about him?”
“I ran Hunt’s photo through several agencies. They have no record of him.” Carey closed his phone app.
“That’s it?” Robert asked again. “Nothing else?”
“Yes, Sir. That’s all at this time. Of course we are continuing the background check, based on facial recognition.”
Robert thought for a minute.
“Then explain how could Hunt could get into the White House without verifiable ID? That doesn’t make much sense if there’s no documentation on him.”
Carey didn’t respond to that immediately. He made a show of opening a new app on his phone and typing in some notes. “I’ll check with Whitehouse security immediately.”
“Wouldn’t that be the Secret Service?” Robert asked pointedly.
“No, Sir.” Carey responded, not looking up from his phone. “They’re connected, but not our personnel. It may take some time, since they tend to protect their information.”
Robert thought about that for a moment. He wasn’t sure he bought Carey’s dodge on that. He deliberately left an uncomfortable silence in the room.
“Unfortunately we have no conclusions at this time.” Carey evidently felt the need to break the silence. “There is no obvious link between these incidences from a police point of view, but I think the ATF will make a connection in twenty-four hours, or less. Our information might accelerate their investigations, but that could compromise your investigation. It’s up to you, but I don’t think they will be able to help us at this juncture, unless we give them more to work with. We should not withhold information for more than 72 hours, unless we have justifiable cause. It would breach interagency protocols.”
“Anything to add, Phil?” Robert asked, hoping that Phil may have discovered something that would give him some direction.
Phil did not make direct eye contact, looking at something between Robert and Carey. “No, that about covers it.” He answered.
Robert sat thinking, not looking directly at either man. He was desperate to know more. He had become increasingly suspicious of everyone around him, but he had little to substantiate any definite theory. “Keep checking. It seems likely that we’re missing something that is key to this puzzle. Do you need anything else from me?”
Both Carey and Davidson stood up to leave. “That’s all, Sir.” Carey answered.
“Okay, thanks. I’d like a report back on Hunt as soon as possible.” Robert stood, and moved toward the door with them. As Carey went out into the reception area, Robert quickly added. “Oh! Hang on a minute, Phil.”
Phil and Carey both turned.
“I almost forgot. I have a question about that jurisdiction problem we tossed around a few months ago on OPOV, Phil. Have you got another minute? If you don’t, we can connect later. With everything that’s happened, I keep forgetting to ask you about it.” Robert said, shaking his head.
Phil answered, “Sure.” He began talking as he walked back into Robert’s office, letting the door swing closed as he entered. “As we discussed, I am a firm believer that the OPOV falls under our jurisdiction based on...”
As the door clicked shut behind them, Phil was still talking.
“Phil.” Robert interrupted quietly. “I get the feeling you think Carey left something out.”
“No, not at all. It was a very thorough briefing.” Phil shuffled his feet, but didn’t seem surprised at Robert’s question.
“Perhaps there was some detail that caught your attention, then.” Robert cross-examined.
“Yes, there were two small things.” Phil hesitated, looking uneasy.
“Phil, I need to know everything, no matter how insignificant it may seem.” Robert told him.
Phil still looked uncomfortable, but answered, “Well, it’s probably nothing, but the .40 pistol used to kill Stoker is a pistol originally designed to support the FBI. If it was a SIG-Sauer P229, that is. That’s the same model used by the US Coast Guard now.”
Robert thought about that for a moment. “So, it’s a commonly available gun, right?”
“Yes, very. I mean, you won’t see some low-life criminal buying one in just any store, but it is mass produced and available.” Phil edged closer. “It’s just...you wondered if there was a connection between the two incidents. Add to that, military grenades, and, well...”
“Are you saying,” Robert began asking incredulously, “that it was the FBI or Coast Guard?”
“No,” Phil answered, “but this is not a typical criminal situation. And wouldn’t a professional hit man use a revolver, not a pistol that ejects the brass?” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Then again, a pistol is quieter, when equipped with a silencer. There’s not much point to a suppressor on a revolver.” Phil shifted uncomfortably as he argued with himself. “I’m sure Carey thought it was unimportant, but I was surprised he didn’t mention any of it. And I wondered why he hadn’t asked the White House staff for Hunt’s records, too, but maybe there’s some turf war going on over there.” He paused. “I’m sure he just didn’t want to make connections about the grenades and gun without having more information.” He tried to sound comfortable with that assertion, but he clearly thought it was strange that Carey had left out those details.
Robert thought it was odd, too, and he still didn’t remember telling Carey there had been more than one assailant. Realizing that Phil was staring at him, Robert straightened up. “Thanks, Phil. I’ll let you know more when I can.” Robert moved toward the door, signaling that the conversation had ended.
Chapter 54
Arriving a little late, Marty got the usual long look from security. He didn’t stop to chat with any of his co-workers. That was normal, but uncharacteristically he didn’t grab his typical coffee. He’d decided that the harsh sludge he’d ingested at home was enough to keep him going for a week.
He navigated around Terri’s cubical to avoid the chitchat he assumed was coming, and went straight to his computer monitor. First, he pulled up a screen full of statistics. Then he opened his software editing suite. Opening the control file for the OPOV client contact program, he scanned down to where his remark had been added. There he found the polynomial in the exact spot he had left it. Looking for the first letter “A” in the hex code polynomial he replaced it with 1010, the binary equivalent. Then he changed the date on his computer to the same day he accessed the file previously, clocking the time to a few minutes later. He saved the file. Quickly changing his computer date and time back to the present, he allowed himself a deep breath. He had effectively made the polynomial much harder to find. The anomaly could be blamed on a computer error during copying—or at least he hoped that would be the case. He had bought himself and Christen a little time, he thought.
A computer on another desk sat quietly running a system monitor window with four subdirectory windows. File updates to three system directories erratically updated, creating jittery scrolls of information. A fourth directory, the current OPOV external files directory, was not showing activity. Then the listing changed. One of the files in the OPOV subdirectory had been altered. The checksum changed, and the time stamp for the last time it had been saved changed by 8 minutes, but kept the same date. The user pulled up the network activity log for the file. The last ten people to do a “save” appeared. User 1670770 had made the last two changes. Marty Torrance.
Reaching for the phone, Karlovich made a call.
“Hello?” A voice answered.
“There’s been a change. It needs to be put back the way it was. Can you fix it?”
“Probably, but…”
“You have his password?” Karlovich interrupted.
“From three days ago, unless he’s changed
it. This wasn’t the plan.” The voice responded.
“We have a contingency plan. It’s always been in place.”
“He’ll check again. He’ll know it reverted if it’s changed.”
There was a pause. “Fix it.” Karlovich said. “I’ll make arrangements for tonight at eight.”
“I don’t like it.” The voice contended.
“Fix it!”
“Not that part. The ‘arrangements’ part.”
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s too soon.”
“Do it anyway. Tonight. Make it happen.”
“Right.”
Both parties hung up.
Blair’s cellular phone rang. “Yes?” His deep voice resonated.
“We need maintenance...tonight at eight.”
“Location.”
“Location Tango Echo.”
“Location Tango Echo, two-zero-hundred hours. I’ll have a maintenance team there.”
Both lines went dead.
Chapter 55
Robert’s day seemed typical, aside from having both Secret Service and Treasury agents in his office. It was an otherwise average Thursday with the usual duties, including two conference calls, three reports coming in, and two going out. Robert also had received a request for an appearance at a fundraiser—one he’d rather avoid. Then a lunch request for Monday came in from Senator Morgan Farrell, a senior statesman on the Senate Rules Committee. Well, maybe that had been a little unusual. Farrell had a long Senate career, beginning before Robert had been born. He was connected, and subtly powerful. The lunch request was probably a checkup initiated by Gregg, Robert mused, since the two were connected. It had seemed more of a command than an optional meeting. Farrell and Robert had never spoken before. He’d been tempted to turn down the lunch, but finally concluded that it might be useful.
The morning continued with more routine. Robert heard from two State’s Attorney Generals who were fighting for states’ rights, each with the fervor of a Tel-Evangelist. Both were writing state laws in defiance of Federal Acts. Robert considered both issues frivolous, and egregious wastes of taxpayer money. He figured these guys were trying to make a name for themselves to further their own political careers. The issues catered to their wealthy campaign contributors’ interests, but the money spent fighting the Federal Government came from their taxpayers.
Robert had been looking over an update from Jerry and his team. It was dry stuff—a rehash of what he had done two years ago. He almost stopped Jerry’s team from combing through every detail, but he had to see if something had been overlooked. To stop now would invite inquiry later. Methodical research was tedious, but essential to any good legal, or investigative technique. He kept plowing through the summary.
He almost didn’t notice when his phone rang.
“Mr. Carlton.” Lorraine chimed in on the intercom. “Mr. Davidson is on the line.”
“Thank, you. I’ll take it.” Robert picked up the phone. “Phil, you have something for me?”
“Yes, but I’d like to show it to you. It’s a diagram of how I think the accident happened. Can you come over?”
“Phil, can’t you bring it over here? I have a lunch meeting coming up, and I’m busy doing some preparation.”
“No, it’s really too large. I would appreciate it if you could come over here.”
Robert looked at his watch and decided he could stop by there on his way to eat. “I’ll drop by your place on the way to lunch. Let’s say eleven. Will that work?”
“Yes, that would be perfect.” Phil hung up.
“Hasn’t the guy heard of computers?” Robert wondered as he went back to his reading. Time passed quickly, and before he knew it, it was ten forty-five. He threw the documents into his briefcase along with the computer, grabbed his coat, and headed over to Phil’s.
Traffic was surprisingly light. Robert strode into Phil’s office, leaving Agent Long in the hallway. The door swung open more easily than he expected and hit the wall firmly, jerking Phil’s attention up from the desk.
“Phil, let’s see it.” Robert felt rushed, and wanted to get through this in the least amount of time possible.
“It’s down in the lab.” Phil quickly ushered Robert down the hall to the stairs, and into a small, enclosed room with rack after rack of electronic gear. Long followed, and patrolled the hallway outside the electronics room.
Robert looked around. “I don’t see any accident layout.” He said, blankly.
“I made that up. I couldn’t talk over the phone.” Phil looked a bit apologetic.
“Why not?” Robert was irritated.
“I found out some things about Hunt.”
“Go on.” Robert was interested now.
“He works for a lobbyist group,” Phil told him. “They work for various special interest groups; all big money.”
Robert stared at Phil.
“But here’s the important thing, Robert. Hunt was with the Secret Service fifteen years ago.” Phil seemed torn between excitement and concern.
“He worked with the Secret Service?” Robert repeated. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“No.” Phil paused for a moment. “He was in the Secret Service. Big difference.”
“Phil, people don’t just leave the Secret Service.” Robert said slowly.
“Actually, they do.” Phil was presenting the information at his own pace.
“He was fired?” Robert asked, trying to pull the story out of Phil faster.
Phil answered. “No, no. Hunt was a USSS-1811. Back in 1995, when they opened up the SSA-OIG, he moved over as a manager. That was right after SSA moved out from under HHS. You follow?”
“Not at all.” Robert said, gritting his teeth. “You’re making this about as cryptic as possible.”
“Okay, let me try again.” Phil took a breath, and continued. “Hunt was in the Secret Service when they opened a new program with the Office of the Inspector General. They hired almost nothing but 1811s from the Service. The first Inspector General was from the Secret Service, and hired people he knew and trusted. At this point Hunt was a senior agent in the system. He ended up involved with FLETC a couple times. They handle Federal Law Enforcement Training for about ninety agencies. Later, Hunt went to a special group, and the documentation trail gets lost there. Now that is unusual, and I think it means he’s still connected to the service.”
“The bottom line, though, is that I could find him in the system up to that point.” Phil concluded, letting that last bit sink in.
“So, Carey should have found him in the Secret Service files.” Robert said slowly.
Phil was clearly becoming more uncomfortable. “Yes, easily. Here’s the worst part: Carey didn’t have to look him up.”
He paused, causing Robert to react. “For Christ sake, Phil! Spit it out!”
Phil made direct eye contact. “Robert, Carey met Hunt at FLETC. He was on Hunt’s training team for six months.”
Chapter 56
Agent Carey was on the phone with Blair. The secure government line’s “green light” glowed reassuringly in the security room.
“I have the track you requested on Barlow.” Carey told Blair. He had used Secret Service connections to get what they needed. No one would be the wiser.
“Excellent.” Blair answered in his deep voice. “Where is he?”
“He’s settled in Henniker, New Hampshire. He’s stayed at a place called ‘Great Pines B&B’ on previous trips to that area, so the odds are good that he’s there.” Carey read off the address and phone number.
“Where is that in relation to anything on a map?” Blair asked.
“It’s about twenty-five miles west of Concord.”
“Okay, hold on a second.” Blair set the call on speaker. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” Carey responded.
“Okay, let’s see.” He pulled up the GPS map on his smart phone, located the nearest airport, and opened a travel app to scan flight
schedules. “There’s a flight I can catch to Manchester.” He hit the button to purchase his ticket. He purchased another for the next flight under a woman’s name. “This will work. I’ll need you to stand by. I may need you to join in on a delivery tonight.”
“Now, wait a minute! I didn’t agree to that.” Carey was worried about his cover as he considered the idea of another “delivery.” Most “deliveries” ended up with strong-arm tactics. He preferred working as a single, since it gave him more control. Pairing up always put his cover at risk.
“It’s what you do tonight, if that’s what I need you to do.” Blair’s voice carried venomously across the phone. “I hope I don’t need to motivate you.”
“I think you know better than that.” Carey snapped, making no effort to hide his resentment. He would accomplish whatever task Blair requested, and Blair knew it, but he didn’t have to be happy about it. He had no choice; he was in, and he had to stay in.
“I will let you know whether you’re required. Stay by the phone for the next hour.” Blair hung up.
Carey sat quietly fuming. The relationship with Blair seemed one-sided. The money was worthwhile, but Carey didn’t have any options when it came to Blair’s demands. The risk of exposure was growing.
Blair punched another number. The phone rang twice.
“Hunt,” the man answered.
“I need you to make a delivery tomorrow night in DC.” Blair laid out Hunt’s instructions. “You will pick up a woman named Carol at eight. I’ll send you the address and her photo. Go with her. She’ll be making a visit to Senator Farrell. Don’t worry about getting in, she’ll make that easy.”
“Carol will have information for Farrell from Gregg. Exchange it for the packet I’ll be sending you,” he continued. “Examine what’s in my packet when you get it, then give it to Farrell. The data fingers Daniel Gregg for the OPOV conspiracy, and links the NSA. Make sure you memorize it. You may have to help Carlton put the pieces together.”
One Man Two Votes (The Robert Carlton Series Book 1) Page 30