The Territory of Lies

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The Territory of Lies Page 12

by Ana Stone


  "Thanks," Blake replied and hung up. Now all he had to do was convince Steve that he needed to take the day shift permanently. He wanted to have more free time in the evenings to be with Sydney.

  He’d called Steve on his cell last night after the Senator left and gotten him to pick up the tail on Tyler from Sydney's apartment. He didn’t mention that he was at her apartment, himself. He just said that something had come up and he needed Steve to fill in for him.

  Blake checked his watch. It was almost nine. He had to get moving. He turned off the computer, tore off the top piece of paper from the pad and put it in his pocket then grabbed his suitcase and left.

  He hadn’t been able to tell Sydney the Senator was being watched and he was one of the watchers. Blake felt bad about keeping it from her. In a way he felt like he was using her. Because of her he knew where the Senator was going to be this morning at nine o'clock and if Steve had done his job Blake would be able to hear everything that was being said from his car.

  

  Blake sat in his car watching the building where Sydney's office was located. As he watched the building a car pulled up behind him, halfway down the block. Inside were two men wearing dark glasses.

  As a car parked behind him and the driver got out to open the door for Senator Tyler, Blake turned on the portable recording unit on the front seat of his car and put the earphones in his ears to check the sound. Senator Tyler got out of the back seat of the car and entered the lobby of the building.

  Blake picked up a magazine from the car seat and opened it, flipping through it to an article about how quick the public and the media were to jump to the conclusion that the bombing in Akron had Mid-East origins. He got involved in the article as he listened to the chatter of Sydney's secretary greeting the Senator and telling him that Doctor Forrest would be with him shortly. Because of that, he paid little attention to the traffic on the street.

  

  Sydney stood as the receptionist showed the Senator in. "Good morning, Senator, I'm glad you could make it this morning."

  Senator Tyler took a seat, flopping down in the chair as if the muscles in his body were turning to jelly. Sydney could tell by his face that he hadn’t slept. Large dark blotches stained the sagging skin beneath his bloodshot eyes.

  "I still don't see what good this will do," he replied as she took the seat across from him.

  "I agree," she said quietly. "Therapy won’t change what happened. Nothing will. That isn’t the reason I wanted to see you. This isn’t a session, sir. I think we need to speak frankly, person to person, not doctor to patient."

  "And that will do about as much good as therapy," he mumbled.

  "Senator, Tyler, I’m in a precarious position. I'm walking a tenuous line right now and to be honest I don't know what to do. If what you've told me is true then it's very possible that you and I may have knowledge of something that should be reported to the authorities. Now, I know you haven't come right out and said this in so many words, but I’m under the distinct impression that the people you mentioned are responsible for what happened. Am I correct?"

  "You know you are." His voice sounded old and fragile.

  "Then I need to ask you a few questions. Will you answer those questions for me?"

  "To what end? Even if I tell you everything I know, there's nothing you can do. Who will you go to with the information? Doctor Forrest I don't think you understand the full implications of my position, or yours either for that matter. Right now my life is worth about two red hot cents if those people think I've talked. And considering that I've been coming to see you, it's a very distinct possibility that your life is in danger as well."

  Sydney hadn’t considered that she might be in danger until that moment. The realization swept over her in a wave of almost paralyzing fear. For a moment she couldn’t speak or move. But she forced herself to push the fear into the background. She might not be trained to handle such a situation but she was smart enough to know that if she was in danger then her best bet of surviving was to get as much information as she could and get that information into the right hands.

  "All the more reason for you to be candid with me, wouldn't you say?" she asked as soon as she found her voice.

  Senator Tyler looked up at her for a long moment then nodded. "Yes. I've got enough deaths on my conscience. I don't need any more. I'll answer your questions."

  "May I record it?"

  "If you wish."

  Sydney fetched her new phone from her purse then took her seat again. "Okay, let's get started."

  

  Blake heard the Senator's voice through the earphones and put down the magazine. As he looked up he saw a shapely blond walking down the sidewalk in front of him. As she started by a dark Nissan a couple of cars ahead, two men got out of the car. One man got in front of the woman, blocking her path while the other closed in behind her.

  Blake was out of the car with his gun in his hand and reaching for his credentials by the time the first man grabbed the woman's arm.

  "FBI" he barked as he ran up behind the man with his back turned.

  The man whirled around faster than Blake anticipated. His foot shot up and out, knocking the gun from Blake's hand. Pain shot up Blake's arm but he recovered fast enough to block a punch the man threw at him and counter with a solid right to the man's stomach.

  By this time, the woman was screaming as her assailant tried to pull her towards his parked car. Blake could not take time to pay attention to the woman, however. His punch had doubled the man over, but the man came at him again, wrapping his arms around Blake's midriff to lift him up and slam him against the parked car.

  Blake grunted and balled up his fist to pound down hard on the back of the man's neck. He was released as the man backed away. He lashed out with a sidekick. His foot caught the man in the center of the body and sent him reeling backwards into a newspaper vending machine.

  Blake started to turn towards the screaming woman but before he could the woman broke free from the second man and threw herself on Blake, wrapping her arms around his neck as she screamed and cried for him to help her.

  He couldn’t see. It was like the woman was trying to climb up on his shoulders. "Lady, calm down!"

  He grabbed her arms and tried to pry her off him. Just then a second man attacked from behind. Blake felt his breath catch as the man's arm tightened around his neck and he reacted quickly, elbowing the man in the ribs with all his strength. The man fell back and Blake whirled toward him but before he could make another move he felt something hard jab into his back. "Don't do anything stupid," the woman ordered.

  A split second later another car skidded to a stop in the street. "Let's go." The woman prodded him with the gun.

  Knowing better to argue with a loaded weapon, Blake got into the back seat of the car. The passenger in the front seat, a man about thirty-five with dark hair, wearing dark glasses, turned and leveled a gun at him as the woman climbed in beside him. As soon as she was in the driver swerved out into the traffic.

  "What's this all about?" Blake asked.

  "No questions," the man with the gun snapped.

  "I do hope you know what you're doing," Blake quipped. "Kidnapping a federal officer, assault with a deadly weapon--"

  "Shut up!" the man barked.

  Blake fell silent and watched as they drove to the Potomac Boat Club on the river. He put up no resistance as he was ordered out of the car and escorted to a large pleasure boat that was moored nearby.

  The two men and the woman escorting him did not board the boat. Blake faced the three men on board. "So, anyone want to explain what's going on?"

  "Agent Edwards." An older, portly man with a regal bearing stepped forward. "Please have a seat."

  Blake sat down as the boat pulled away from the dock. The older man did not sit, but swayed with the motion of the boat as if he had spent many years on the water.

  "Agent Edwards, you are interfering with a highly classified operatio
n and I must insist that you terminate your surveillance on Senator Ned Tyler."

  "Why?" Blake looked from the speaker to the other two men. "Who are you?"

  The older man took a seat beside him. "I'm afraid I don’t have many answers for you, Agent Edwards. All I can tell you is that your interference could be very detrimental to our investigation and your surveillance must cease."

  "Again, I ask why," Blake said firmly. "What authority do you have to not only kidnap a federal agent and demand that he cease an investigation? Moreover, how do you know that I am running surveillance on this Senator you speak of?"

  "We know a great deal," the man replied then looked at the other two men. "Why don't you have a drink and let Agent Edwards and I speak in private."

  As soon as the two men moved below deck, the man turned his attention again to Blake. "We are with the DIA, Mr. Edwards. That's about all I can tell you except that our investigation is of the highest priority and our authority comes straight from the top."

  "Then why not go through normal channels and have the order for the termination of surveillance come from bureau officials?"

  The man chuckled. "You FBI chaps are so naive at times, Mr. Edwards. There are matters that you’re not privy to, areas in which your jurisdiction does not extend. That is the situation right now. The DIA has complete autonomy in this matter and is neither required nor inclined to discuss it with the FBI."

  "Then why come to me?"

  "Because you’re a man who can understand duty and loyalty and the good of the many."

  "I don't follow."

  "I think you do. "You see, Agent Edwards, our country is moving towards what many years back President Bush called "a new world order." The cold war is no more. The two Germanys have become one, the USSR is fragmented, the arms race was cut back and communism has been discredited. We are taking steps to replace the superpower rivalry that has long divided the globe, the rivalry that fueled the cold war. Our military's role has been subjugated to that of international policemen operating under the jurisdiction of the UN."

  "I am aware of the current world situation, sir."

  "Perhaps. But let's examine for a moment that "new world order" and the way it is viewed by a great many people."

  "To begin with let's look at the UN peacekeeping missions. Consider, if you will these past events. One: the operation in Somalia. This country was in anarchy. International famine-relief agencies found it almost impossible to operate there and people were starving by the hundreds, the thousands. So, the Security Council voted to establish an operation in Somalia. What happened when in the first 500 troops arrived? I'll tell you - they were unable to operate. So, the Council votes to send in more troops. Within one month over 15,000 US troops were in Somalia. We did what we were sent to do. Soon food supplies were reaching most of the people. But then the UN steps in and takes command of the operation from the US From that point on it was one mess after another. Somali rebels killed 23 Pakistani soldiers - reinforcements were sent in to capture the rebel leader and what happened? They failed and once more the UN steps in to reemphasize the needs to reach a political solution."

  "I do hope there is a point to this lesson in history," Blake commented.

  "Yes, there is - if you will allow me to continue. Let's consider another scenario. Bosnia. Need I say more? That situation was out of control."

  "Which brings us to?" Blake was trying to figure out where this was all leading.

  "To United States citizens who are vehemently opposed to a world united under the auspices of the United Nations. There are citizens in this country who see the government as The Beast, Agent Edwards. They view any cooperation with the UN as anathema. They look on Democratic politicians as being little more than liberal elitists and see them as daily betraying tradition American values. GATT, NAFTA, the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade - these are not seen as positive measures. No, quite the opposite. These are viewed as more evidence that the United States of America is surrendering without a fight to "the new world order" and it scares the hell out of them."

  Blake frowned slightly. "You're talking about extremist groups, sir and they do not constitute the majority of the American public. Besides, I hardly see how that has any bearing on why I have been brought here."

  "Then perhaps you are not nearly as smart as I thought you were," the man said as he stood.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me, Agent Edwards. And since you are obviously unable to grasp the importance of what I've been trying to tell you, I see no need to continue this conversation."

  "Fine," Blake agreed. "If you'll just drop me at the dock, I'll be on my way."

  The man turned and walked away to speak to the man piloting the boat. The boat turned in a wide arc and headed back in the direction it had come.

  "I trust that I can depend on you to cease your investigation and surveillance on Senator Tyler?" Ihe older asked Blake.

  Blake considered his words for a moment. "Let's say, hypothetically, of course, that I refused."

  "That would be very unfortunate."

  "Then I guess it's in my own best interests to agree." Blake decided his best course of action was to go along with the man and try and find out who he was and what he was up to.

  "Yes, it would indeed, Agent Edwards. As well as rewarding."

  "Rewarding?"

  "All patriots find reward in serving their country," the man replied. "Don't you agree?"

  "Yes, I do."

  "Excellent Then there will be no further need for me to contact you, will there Agent Edwards?"

  "Not that I see."

  "Very good. Please, have a pleasant day." The man turned and walked below. Blake stared at him then looked around as the boat pulled up next to the dock. One of the men he had seen when he first boarded the boat came up from below deck to tie the boat to the dock.

  Blake got off and walked down the dock, looking around for the car that had brought him there. It was nowhere to be seen. He pulled out his cell phone and called a cab. Now he had another mystery to solve.

  

  Sydney had just hung up the phone when her secretary buzzed her. "Doctor, there's someone here who says he was referred to you by Senator Tyler and insists that he must talk with you today."

  "Could you come in here please," Sydney responded.

  A moment later the door opened and her secretary walked in. "What's this man's name?" Sydney asked.

  "Ralph Needham."

  "Needham?" Sydney could not remember ever meeting anyone by that name, nor could she remember the Senator ever mentioning anyone named Needham. "Well, okay, I have a few minutes so send him in."

  The secretary opened the door. "Mr. Needham? If you'll come in the doctor will see you now."

  She left as the man entered the office. Sydney rose as she looked at him. He was of medium height and build, dressed in a dark blue suit. If it were not for his nose, which looked like it had been broken several times and eyes that seemed more animal than human he would have been completely nondescript.

  "Mr. Needham." She walked around her desk and held out her hand. "How do you do? I'm Doctor Forrest. I understand Senator—. "

  A gasp cut her sentence in half as the man grabbed her hand and jerked her to him to wrap his free hand around the front of her throat.

  "I understand you like to talk about your patients, doctor," he whispered menacingly.

  Sydney clawed at the hand around her throat with her free hand, trying to draw air into her lungs. The man tightened his grip on both her throat and her hand and she felt like she was surely going to pass out; either from lack of oxygen or pain. She was afraid that he was going to kill her.

  "It's not very smart to tell other people's secrets," he whispered in her face.

  "I haven't," she wheezed, her voice sounding little more than a choked hiss of air.

  "And you better not if you want to keep that pretty face of yours. You'd be surprised what a soldering iron can do to h
uman skin."

  "Please," she rasped.

  He eased up on her throat and she gasped greedily, pulling air into her lung in huge gulps. "Don't make me have to come back," the man warned, shoving his face close to hers, making her recoil at the smell of garlic and onions on his breath now that she could breathe. "I'd enjoy teaching you all about pain but I don't think you'd like it very much."

  "I haven't said anything to anyone about anything!" she insisted. "I don't know what you're even talking —"

  His hand tightened again, cutting off her voice. "Don't play that game with me, doctor. I'm not nearly as stupid as I look. Just remember what I said. You talk and I come back. Got it?"

  She nodded her head and he sneered at her then shoved her backwards. She fell back against her desk, throwing her arms out behind her to keep her balance and in the process sending things flying off the desk as she scrambled to stay upright.

  The man laughed and straightened his jacket. "Thank you so much, doctor Forrest. You've been a big help."

  She watched in frozen silence as he left the office. For a few moments she could not move. She was petrified with fear. When she did get control of her body she ran to the private bathroom adjoining her office and turned on the cold water, cupping her hands and splashing it on her face.

  When she straightened and picked up a towel to dry her face her gaze moved to the mirror and fell on the red marks on her throat. She raised one hand to touch them as she stared at her reflection. What have I gotten myself into? She winced at the tenderness on her neck. She did not know how the man that called himself Needham knew that Senator Tyler had talked to her or what he had told her.

  Her eyes widened and she whirled around. There was only one way someone could know. Her office had to be bugged!

  

  Blake found his car parked where he had left it with the keys still in the ignition. The equipment was still in the front seat but the tape was missing. His gun was lying in the floorboard.

 

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