by Tim Kizer
“We believe Pollack knows something very important to the national security of our country. However, we have virtually no idea what it is. Pollack refuses to talk.” Walsh woke up his laptop and entered the password. “Two weeks ago, Pollack and his unit were sent to an uninhabited Arctic island called Bradford Island.” The colonel made a few clicks with the mouse and then turned the screen, which displayed what appeared to be a map, to Peter. “The island is not that big, just eight square miles. It’s located about three hundred and fifty miles west of Greenland.” He poked his finger at the screen, pointing out the island.
“It belongs to Canada, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. But our Canadian friends didn’t mind us visiting that place. Their helicopter took off from the Thule Air Force Base.” Walsh touched the laptop screen again, under a red dot on the west coast of Greenland. “Here it is.” He settled back in the chair. “The mission was top secret, and I can’t tell you all its details. I’m going to tell you this: all of Pollack’s unit mates were killed in that mission. Max is the only survivor.” Walsh kept silent for a moment. “Whoever killed those SEALs chose to let Pollack live. Why? What kind of deal did Pollack cut with them?”
“Do you suspect that Pollack has gone rogue?”
“That’s possible. One thing is for sure: he’s hiding something from us.”
“When am I meeting Pollack?”
“In four hours.”
Peter fanned the pages of Pollack’s file, evaluating how long it would take to look over it, and said, “Okay. Sounds good.”
“Before you leave, I have an important question for you, Peter, and I want you to think carefully before answering it.” Walsh leaned forward and continued, “How good are you at following instructions?”
After a short silence, Peter replied, “I believe I’m pretty good at it.” He was struck by how serious the colonel looked and sounded at the moment.
“Excellent. One more question. Have you heard the expression ‘You can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs’?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, I have.”
“Do you agree with it?”
“It’s one of my favorites.” Peter began to get curious about where Walsh was going with it.
“Great. In your line of work one can’t wear rose-colored glasses.”
“I stopped wearing those back in middle school.”
Walsh glanced at his wristwatch. “How about a little warm-up session, Peter?” He got up. “I want you to talk to Pollack’s wife, Linda.”
“You brought his wife here?”
“Yes. I prefer to keep my trump cards close by. Besides, I deemed her a flight risk.”
Chapter 2
1.
“Are you going to report this to the Department of Defense?” Peter asked as soon as they entered the colonel’s office. “I doubt they’ll be happy about you killing Pollack’s wife.”
“Secretary Lautner gave me the authority to do whatever I deem necessary to extract information from Pollack.” Walsh eased into his chair. “You see, this is a very special situation, Peter. Max Pollack is an extremely dangerous man. He’s part of a conspiracy to harm the United States. The worst thing is, we have no idea what kind of damage this conspiracy may cause. The whole country could be destroyed a week from now for all we know.”
“Colonel, you killed an innocent person, who, by the way, was an American citizen. I thought only the President could sanction something like this. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to rock the boat. I’m just pointing out that this could get you in big trouble.”
“I understand, Peter. I appreciate your concern, but I assure you that we dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t’ when it comes to proper authorization. I personally promised Pollack that his wife would die if he didn’t talk. I gave him two days. Those two days were up this noon. We’re not playing games here, Peter. We’re serious people. If we have to execute Pollack’s entire family to make him spill the beans, we’ll do it without hesitation.” Walsh lifted his right index finger. “Let me show you something.” The colonel swiveled to the safe, quickly entered the combination, opened the door, and produced a black plastic folder. “You’re right, only the President can sanction what we’ve done to Linda Pollack. This is a secret executive order signed by President Moore a year ago. It authorizes me to do whatever is necessary to preserve and promote the national security of this country. It grants me and my subordinates legal immunity from prosecution for any actions undertaken in the name of national security.”
Peter ran his eyes over the document in the black folder and then handed it back to Walsh. “When Pollack finds out that you murdered his wife, you can say goodbye to any chance of him talking to you. You do understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Can you do me a favor? When you meet Pollack today, don’t tell him that we’ve executed his wife. I’d like to deliver this news to him myself. When the time is right. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure.”
“Not a word, under any circumstances. Just forget it ever happened, okay?”
“I’ll keep my mouth shut on this.”
“Very good. I’m counting on you.”
There was a knock on the door, and Walsh gave the visitor permission to enter. A man in Army uniform, who appeared to be in his early thirties, came through the doorway and saluted the colonel. Walsh acknowledged the salute with a nod and said, “This is my assistant, Lieutenant Daniel Schmidt. I instructed him to make your stay here as comfortable as possible, so if you need anything, feel free to contact Danny; he’ll do his best to organize it.”
Peter shook Daniel’s hand.
“Lieutenant Schmidt will show you your room. It’s not much, but it’s one of the best we’ve got.” Walsh checked his watch. “You have about two and a half hours until you meet Pollack. I’ll see you later tonight.”
2.
“Do you have a cellphone with you, Mister Anderson?” Schmidt asked when he and Peter stepped out of Walsh’s office.
“Yes, I do.”
“Did you bring any other communication or recording devices?
Peter shook his head. “No, just the cell.”
“Can I have it please? You’ll get it back when you leave the base.”
“Why? You don’t trust me?”
“This is Colonel Walsh’s order. I’m sorry, there are no exceptions, Mister Anderson.”
“Okay.” Peter pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and handed it to Schmidt. “Can you at least let me know when I get a phone call? My boss in D.C. might call me.”
“I’ll ask Colonel Walsh about it.”
“Yes, please do that. My boss hates it when his calls are not returned.”
“Did you bring any weapons with you?”
“I brought my service pistol. Do you want it, too?”
“Yes, please. I’ll give it back to you when you leave.”
Peter debated with himself for a few seconds if he should create a scandal over his gun, and then complied with Lieutenant Schmidt’s request. The Fairmont Training Center must be one of the safest places in America; he didn’t really need a pistol here, did he? Besides, Peter knew whose side his division chief would be in this argument—the guy with a letter of indulgence from the President of the United States.
3.
“Sir, are you carrying any weapons?” the guard asked. “Guns, knives, grenades?”
Peter turned his head back to confirm that the massive boxy device he had just walked through was a metal detector. Well, it looked a lot like a metal detector, and a sophisticated one at that. Perhaps the guard didn’t trust machines.
“No, I left my gun with Lieutenant Schmidt,” he finally replied.
“Please raise your arms, sir. I’m going to search you.”
The guard patted Peter down thoroughly and then motioned him toward the door at the end of the corridor. Peter was pleased to see that he hadn’t been singled out: Sergeant Gary Adams, the soldier sent by Walsh
to escort him to Max Pollack’s cell, was subjected to a pat-down, as well.
A large rectangular sign to the right of the door informed Peter that he was about to enter Block D. Sergeant Adams input the passcode into the panel on the wall, opened the door, and said to Peter, “After you, sir.”
They started down the well-lit hallway, Adams following three feet behind Peter. Thirty yards later, they stopped in front of a solid metal door guarded by two soldiers. There was a keypad panel on the wall. Adams handed Peter the folding chair he had brought with him. “This is for you, sir.”
Peter thanked the sergeant and tucked the chair under his arm.
“Can you please step back?” Adams said.
Peter gave the sergeant a nod and carried out his request. Adams turned to the door and, using his body to block the keypad from Peter’s view, punched in the code, which consisted of six digits according to Peter’s count. When the green light lit up at the top of the panel, the sergeant produced a key from his pants pocket, inserted it into the keyhole, and then twisted it.
To Peter’s amusement, the door didn’t open. There apparently was one more step Adams had to take. Or maybe even more than one.
The sergeant pressed the button to the right of the green light and said, leaning towards the panel, “Your move, sir.”
“Okay, Sergeant,” Walsh’s voice came out of the intercom speaker.
“Is Colonel Walsh watching us?” Peter asked with a smile. He looked around, found the surveillance camera, and waved at it.
“He sure is,” Adams replied.
There was a low clinking sound, and then the sergeant pulled the door open.
“I’ll be waiting for you outside, sir,” Adams said as Peter walked into the cell.
END OF SAMPLE
Other titles by Tim Kizer
· Days of Vengeance, horror novel
· Mania, suspense novel
· The Mindbender, suspense novel
· The Dreamer, suspense novelette
· Dark Luck, suspense novelette
· Scorned, suspense novelette
· Hitchhiker, suspense/horror novelette
· Intoxication, suspense novelette
· Deception, mystery/suspense novelette
· Sixtus, horror novelette