Shields returned a few minutes later with a faint smile on her face.
“Good news?” he asked.
She nodded. “Caught him.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “Border state to Mexico. And let’s see … a flight to El Paso, Texas.”
“Way off there, compadre,” she said with a chuckle.
“Our man Levine prefers cooler weather.”
Black’s eyes widened. “He went north?”
She nodded. “Buffalo, New York, to be precise. And if I had to bet my mortgage, I’d bet it all on Levine trying to get into Canada.”
“Has his flight landed yet?”
“It landed five minutes ago.”
“We better notify the border patrol there,” Black said. “It takes less than twenty minutes to get to the border from the airport.”
“I’ll make the call now,” Shields said.
Chapter 18
Buffalo, New York
BEN LEVINE DRUMMED his fingers on the desk in front of him as he sat in a U.S. customs interview room. When he took off from Dulles, he looked back at the flashing police lights surrounding the plane he’d told Moshe to tell federal agents about: the flight to Tel Aviv through London. Levine had exhaled and smiled, confident that he’d escaped. He didn’t tell anyone the name of the person’s identity he’d stolen. But while he sat staring at the white cinder brick walls, he realized someone had figured it out.
I should’ve asked Moshe for two passports.
He checked his watch. More than two hours had passed, and he was starting to wonder if he’d ever get out. His stomach growled, fighting hunger pangs that hadn’t been satisfied with a small pack of peanuts and a soft drink several hours earlier. And while Levine was being held for questioning, he hadn’t been officially arrested, which gave him a scant bit of hope.
Levine pushed his chair back and stood. He strode over to the door and jiggled the handle. It didn’t move.
“Chara,” he muttered to himself.
He paced around the room, pondering his best tactic to getting released. While he wondered what the people detaining him wanted, he never once considered that they might simply be in search of the truth.
The door finally clicked as a man and a woman entered the room. The man gave him a familiar nod, while the woman gestured toward the chair where Levine had been seated. The trio all settled into their seats around the small table and started a discussion.
“Agent Levine,” the man said. “My name is Agent Black and this is my colleague, Agent Shields. We’re here to discuss your conversation with former senator J.D. Blunt.”
“I’m sorry,” Levine said. “What was the name of that person? J.D. what?”
The woman slapped her hand on the table and then eased a digital recording device into the center. “We don’t have time for games, Agent Levine. And if you want to get out of here before anyone else learns you’re here, I suggest you cut the bullshit and start being forthright.”
Levine’s interest was piqued. Shields appeared to be a no-nonsense kind of woman, but she said something that made him think maybe these two agents were on his side. Still, he wasn’t convinced.
“I’m sorry,” Levine said. “I’m not familiar with the man’s name you mentioned.”
“Oh, I think you are,” she said, reaching into an envelope. She slid a handful of surveillance pictures across the table to him.
“What’s this?” he asked, wondering how long he could keep his charade. Upon seeing the images, he knew time was up.
“What’s it look like?” Black asked.
Levine shrugged. “Pictures of an elderly gentleman in a black SUV speaking with someone?”
“Stop being obtuse,” Shields said. “Or keep flipping through the photographs.”
Levine shuffled through the pictures until he reached a closeup of himself. There wasn’t much left to say. No matter how he tried to spin it, he was undeniably the man depicted with Blunt.
“Okay, so it was me,” Levine said, tossing the pictures back toward Shields. “It’s not a crime to talk to an old acquaintance, is it?”
Shields arched her eyebrows. “You knew him?”
“Well, knew of him,” Levine said, deciding to feel out his next course of action. “I ran into an agent who worked with him several years back and was led to believe that Mr. Blunt was one of the true good guys left in Washington.”
“And do you think that’s true now?” Black asked.
Levine took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He stroked his chin as he looked off in the distance for a moment, considering how to respond. While Levine had an honest answer ready, he was less concerned with telling the truth than he was telling the agents what they wanted to hear in order to get him released.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he said. “It’s not always easy to tell which side people are on.”
“Enough of this,” Shields said as she turned toward her partner. “Let’s get out of here and let whoever’s after him do whatever they want. He’s just wasting our time.”
Both agents deliberately rose to their feet and headed toward the door.
“Okay, okay,” Levine said. “What do you really want to know?”
Shields spun on her heels and walked back to the table, leaning on it. She glared at him. “How about just start with the truth? What did you meet with Blunt for?”
She sat down, their eyes locked. Agent Black slowly returned to his seat.
“After surviving the attack on the cruise ship that killed your Secretary of State, I have been hunted,” Levine said. “I escaped with my life in the Dominican Republic and sought refuge in the U.S., mostly to get the message I’d originally intended to pass along to someone who could do something about it.”
“And you thought Senator Blunt could help you?” Black asked.
Levine nodded. “I did.”
“And what did you tell him?” Shields said, her glare intensifying.
“I told him what was really going on. A rogue Mossad agent was outing deep cover agents in various terrorist cells in the Middle East.”
“To what end?” Shields asked.
“I’m not sure,” Levine said. “To my knowledge, none of them have ended up dead. Initially, I believed it had something to do with getting illegal drugs into your country.”
“But now?” Black asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m not convinced that was it,” Levine said. “These terrorists aren’t exactly big players. But maybe that was the point. It’s easier to go under the radar when all eyes aren’t on you.”
Levine had fleshed out his theory more than he was letting on. But he was still unsure if the two agents in front of him were truly his allies or simply a ruse to get him to reveal all that he knew.
Shields shrugged and looked at Black. “Not sure this will help Blunt’s cause, but it can’t hurt.”
Black nodded. “Yeah, but at this point, if we can’t help him, he’s as good as dead.”
“Wait, wait,” Levine said. “What are you trying to suggest?”
Shields slapped her hands on the table. “This isn’t helping our cause.”
“And what cause is that?” Levine asked.
“Senator Blunt has been arrested,” Shields said. “And, frankly, it’s because of you. If we can’t use the subject matter of your conversation as a defense, the feds are going to prosecute him on charges of treason.”
“Treason?” Levine asked. “But I’m an Israeli. We’re intelligence allies.”
“That’s not what Mossad says about you,” Black said. “They’re considering you a rogue agent.”
“That’s absurd. I—I’ve never done anything to—”
“Save it,” Black said. “We’re not a court of law and we don’t really want to hear your legal defense. But you need to tell us anything else you know about why this information might be so important and someone would go to great lengths to kill you in order to keep it from reaching the ears of certain intelligen
ce officers.”
“All right,” Levine said. “There’s much more.”
“Let’s hear it right now,” Shields said, tapping the table with her finger.
“At least, I think there’s much more,” Levine said.
Shields puffed out her cheeks and let out a breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m sorry,” Levine said. “I wish I had more definitive proof, but maybe you can use this information to buy some more time for Mr. Blunt.”
“Please continue,” Black said.
“Based on our intelligence, these terrorist cells have been sneaking illegal drugs into various countries for the past few years,” Levine said. “I think the drug smuggling served a two-fold purpose. They used it initially to raise money for their terrorist activities. But now, I think they’re using it to sneak terrorists into your country as well as others around the world.”
“Got any proof?” Shields asked.
Levine shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m aware of the fact that many of these terrorists have been caught. They’ve often been deported back to their countries because they look like simple drug runners or were directed not to detain them as terrorists. Your deep cover operatives wouldn’t want to raise any suspicion.”
“And how do you know that’s how they are operating?” Shields asked.
“Because I know two of them,” Levine said. “And they were both on the list that the rogue Mossad agent passed along.”
“Have you been in contact with them?” Black asked.
“I’ve been a little busy,” Levine said. “But I have a secure email account that I communicate with one of them on. I tried contacting him when I was in the Dominican Republic, but I haven’t heard back, which is highly unusual.”
“So, you’re worried about him?” Shields asked.
“I wouldn’t think too much about it under normal circumstances, but the fact that he’s been outed makes me wonder if he hasn’t been killed. His name is Van Williams. The other one I’m familiar with is named Patrick Garvey.”
Black slid a passport across the table to Levine. “This ought to help you get where you need to go. I had one of my personal forgers create this one for you. You’ll be able to disappear for as long as you need, or at least until we figure out what’s going on and who’s behind all this.”
“Thank you,” Levine said, pocketing the passport.
Shields stared at Black, mouth agape. “You think that’s enough to just let him go?”
“Information about potential sleeper cells in the U.S.?” Black said, arching his eyebrows. “Conjecture or not, I think it might be just enough to free Blunt.”
“How do you figure that?” Shields asked as she collected her recorder.
“Who else better to lead a team to uncover a sleeper cell of terrorists than J.D. Blunt?” Black asked.
Levine stood and thanked them again before heading down the hallway, a free man for the time being. He had a flight to catch in Toronto.
Chapter 19
Washington, D.C.
THE NEXT MORNING, Black and Shields regrouped at the Firestorm headquarters to discuss the best way to utilize the information they learned from Levine in order to free Blunt. After Jana joined them, they initiated a conference call with Bobby Besserman.
“So, what did you find out?” Besserman asked after exchanging pleasantries.
“Levine was cooperative,” Black said. “But he’s just acting on hunches, nothing definitive.”
“Is there any way I can help you with that?” Besserman asked.
“There is, sir,” Shields said. “Levine gave us the name of two deep cover agents who he knew were exposed by a rogue Mossad operative. If you can verify they are still active and alive, that’d be helpful. It also helps us confirm his story.”
“And then what?” Besserman asked.
“If everything checks out, we need an audience with President Young.”
“Okay, give me those names,” Besserman asked.
“Van Williams and Patrick Garvey,” Shields recited back to him.
“I’ll look into this right away. Anything else I should know about?”
Black took a deep breath. “I don’t know how trustworthy Levine is yet, but he told us that he suspects that these terrorist groups are infiltrating the U.S. to set up a sleeper cell.”
“A sleeper cell?” Besserman asked, sounding surprised.
“That’s what he said. He thinks the terrorist groups are too small time to be planning anything major by themselves, but together? Maybe a huge strike.”
“Combining with other groups is one sly way to slip under our radar,” Besserman said. “We keep an eye out for these groups, but how active they are is what really gets our attention. The deep cover agents are there to make sure we don’t miss anything, but linking arms with other smaller groups indicates a departure in how they’ve operated in the past.”
“What’s most frightening is if that’s true, then we have no idea how many sleeper agents have already slipped into the country,” Black said. “And we’ll likely have no way of finding them.”
“Agreed,” Besserman said. “I’ll find out about these names and call you right back.”
Black ended the call and then looked at Shields and Jana.
“Well, now what?” Jana asked. “You do have a plan for getting Mr. Blunt out of prison, don’t you?”
Black clasped his hands together and rested them on the table in front of him. “If it were that easy, we may not have wasted so much time going to Buffalo yesterday, much less having you confront Moshe. Breaking him out of prison isn’t really an option at this point, at least not without someone on the inside to help us.”
“And you think the CIA Deputy Director has a better chance of getting you in with the president?” she asked.
Black nodded. “It sounds like a long shot, I know. But Blunt has been an ally for the White House under the previous administration. And President Young would be ill-advised to ignore such a wise advisor.”
“So, what do we do until then?” Jana asked.
“I say we gather together all the evidence we can so we can state the strongest case to the president,” Shields said.
Black stood. “Then let’s get to work.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, Black’s phone rang with a call from Besserman. Black motioned for Shields and Jana to join him before turning on the speaker function.
“We’re all here,” Black said. “Tell us the good news.”
Besserman sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of good news.”
“What do you mean?” Black asked.
“Williams and Garvey are both dead, killed within the last forty-eight hours,” Besserman said. “Both of them were shot, so whoever did this wasn’t even trying to pretend like the deaths were an accident.”
“Damn,” Black said. “That’s a shame.”
“It is,” Besserman said. “And I get to be the one to tell their families later today.”
“At least there’s some positive news,” Black said.
“How do you figure?” Besserman asked.
“We now know that Levine wasn’t lying.”
“How can you be so sure? Maybe he ordered hits on these two agents. Or maybe he’s the one who was giving out the information. With Mossad treating him as a rogue agent, I can’t be certain about anything he said.”
“At this point, does it really matter?” Black asked. “It’s incumbent upon this organization to do whatever we can do to protect the security of this country. And I hope we can both agree that having Blunt out of prison is a step in the right direction.”
“I completely agree,” Besserman said. “But that’s not how this works. If I go to the president, he’s going to ask—”
“If you go to the president as the deputy director of the CIA, he’s going to listen to you,” Black said. “And if you tell him that the Firestorm team has uncovered a dangerous plot with
in his own administration, don’t you think our new leader is going to want to be extra vigilant and do everything he can to prevent something catastrophic from happening?”
Besserman remained silent. As he did, Black surveyed the faces of Shields and Jana, both giving him assuring nods.
“You don’t need to share all your doubts about this with President Young,” Black said. “All you need to do is tell him that Blunt is the target of a misguided group that’s attempting to usurp his presidency through a violent attack on U.S. soil.”
“But we don’t know if that’s true,” Besserman said.
“It could be true,” Black countered. “We just don’t know it yet. And if it is, Young will forever be in your debt.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“Better safe than sorry, right?” Black said. “You can still spin it that our actions helped us thwart an impending attack.”
“All right,” Besserman said. “I’ll make a call and see if I can set up a brief meeting for you. If I make that happen, it’ll be up to you guys to close the deal with the president. I’m simply going to tell him that he owes it to himself and the American people to listen to you and weigh what you’re saying.”
“I can live with that,” Black said.
Shields and Jana nodded in agreement.
“Okay,” Besserman said. “Be on standby. I’ll call the president, and get ready for when he contacts you. And I doubt it will take very long if he’s going to speak with you about this.”
“Thanks a million,” Black said before ending the call.
A faint smile crept across Black’s face. “Okay, you heard Besserman. We need to be ready for the moment the president calls.”
A HALF HOUR PASSED before Black’s phone rang again, this time with another call from Besserman.
Honorable Lies (A Titus Black Thriller Book 6) Page 10