The Beirut Conspiracy

by John R Childress

  “Well it’s gonna be a long time before I ever need to read this.” She watched him walk up the stairs. The manila envelope bulged as it lay on the table.

  Later that morning, Matt Richards strolled into the kitchen, clean and dressed. “I feel like a new man.” He sat down at the table and accepted a cup of coffee from Nicole. His eyes darkened as he noticed Eli reading his journal.

  Eli looked up. “Hope you don’t mind, Matt? That was quite a year you spent in Beirut. There are several big names in here-Martin Thomas, William Fisher, Brian Walker. Thomas is head of the National Institutes of Health, Fisher’s one of the top guys at the National Security Agency, and Walker’s a radical law professor at Berkeley. At least he was. He was killed about a month ago while giving a speech.”

  Matt’s coffee mug hit the table hard. “Brian’s dead-what happened?”

  “It was in all the newspapers. It happened during a protest demonstration about a month after the suicide attack on the President. Professor Walker was addressing a meeting of Palestinian-Americans at the Long Beach Convention Center. There was a large group of protestors gathered outside. They were pretty evenly divided into two opposing camps. Anyway at some point the crowd got out of control and broke into the convention center. Some of the demonstrators had clubs and knives and quite a few people were killed. Shots were fired. Brian Walker’s body was found lying behind the lectern, a bullet hole in his head.”

  Matt sat still, remembering his young friend, the energy and idealism he exuded. Please let it be a coincidence.

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you okay? I shouldn’t have unloaded like that.”

  “No, Eli. I needed to know.”

  “There’s more.”

  Oh shit. “So let’s hear it all.”

  “I hang out occasionally with some retired FBI types. We have a drink now and then, swap bullshit stories and try to keep abreast of things. For old times sake.”

  Matt nodded.

  “Seems the two security guards assigned to Professor Walker mysteriously disappeared. Their families don’t even know where they are,” Eli said.

  Matt rubbed his forehead. The stitches itched worse at the moment and his head throbbed.

  “After reading this journal and hearing your story I don’t think Brian Walker’s death was an accident, or a coincidence.”

  “So you think someone may be trying to eliminate all the people I was with in Beirut?”

  “Looks like it.” Elijah sneaked a glance at his daughter.

  “Do you think Brian was a member of a terrorist cell?”

  “No Matt, I don’t. But he may have known enough from his Beirut days to get himself killed.”

  “That means others could be singled out.” But who? And why? “I have to find them – warn them.”

  “There’s also a chance one or more of them are a part of this cell,” Nicole put in.

  “And,” Eli added, “there could be more than one group after you and your friends; the terrorist cell which doesn’t want to be exposed, and those hunting them.”

  “After thirty-five years, how can I know which of my old friends might be involved in this?”

  “Look, Matt,” Nicole said. “It’s impossible to know whom to trust. You could be walking right into a trap. You don’t have to do this. Right Dad? Isn’t there someone in the agency we could go to? Matt’s not equipped for this.”

  “No.” Eli paused. “There’s a good chance the CIA’s involved or at least some piece of it. And someone high up in the other agencies may be part of this network as well. You have to understand that trust is a commodity with these people-it’s regularly bought and sold, according to the vagaries of global politics and the highest bidder. The only thing you can trust are your instincts.”

  Matt nodded. “Eli, I’ve been thinking about this. The best person to start with is Dr. Thomas. And he lives and works right here in Washington.”

  “I called his office at the NIH this morning.” Nicole replied. “When I pressed for an appointment his secretary blew me off.”

  “Give me the phone.” Matt dialed the number and waited. He sipped his now cold coffee. “Hello, I’d like to get an important message to Dr. Martin Thomas…yes… Tell him that Dr. Wilson Richards, an old colleague of his, is in town just for the day…” Matt listened while he made circles with his finger on the table. “Yes, the heart surgeon…Dr. Richards would like to speak with him about the death of his son, Matthew…yes…” Matt put his hand over the mouthpiece. “She told me to wait for a few moments.”

  The doctor’s secretary came back on the line. Matt perked up. “Fine. Seven-thirty this evening. Thank you very much,” He punched the red button and handed the unit back to Nicole.

  “Okay,” Matt said. “Now let’s see if we can’t track down some of the others. The easiest should be Todd Cummings. His parents lived in Pittsburgh so perhaps he moved back there after school. He was also the type of person to keep in touch with people. Except me of course. We drifted apart after the explosion at the restaurant.”

  Elijah looked at Nicole. “Sounds like a job for a good investigative journalist.”

  Matt managed a smile. She’s very good.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad. I’ll get on the Internet. Most folks don’t even know they’re listed on some Internet databases.”

  “Even me?” Matt’s eyes darkened.

  “I looked up your name when I began snooping around. It was pretty easy to learn about your past.”

  “And you’re still speaking to me?”

  “She’s a saint-she even speaks to her old man.”

  Over the next half hour Nicole dug up the names and telephone numbers for five T. Cummings living in and around the Pittsburgh area. A Google search identified one as senior legal council for Monument Oil and Gas Corporation as well as being a member of the board of directors for the Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital and the Pennsylvania United Way Campaign. Nicole, posing as a journalist doing a story on Beirut in the late 1960s, succeeded in reaching Todd Cummings at Monument Oil. He would be delighted to speak with her about Beirut, he said, and agreed to meet at 11:30 tomorrow morning.

  Eli stood up. “Good work. I need to go out for a while.”

  “What’s going on, Dad?”

  “Just a few errands. Plus there’s a man I used to work for, unofficially. He may have something on this. If not he’ll know who will.” He reached for his coat and wool hat.

  “Are you sure you can trust him?” Nicole looked over at Matt.

  “Trust him?” Elijah paused in the hallway. “I’ve trusted him with my life more than once and I’m still here.”

  For the next several hours Matt made a list of old acquaintances he could recall and those he found browsing through the leather journal. They then tried the Internet search engines again.

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Yes, Doctor?” Nicole looked up from the computer screen.

  “What if I claim to be Dr. Richard’s cousin? Just like I did at Sweet Briar. I can tell them I found a few items among Matt’s personal effects with their name on it.”

  “That would give us an excuse to deliver to them in person,” Nicole said, nodding.

  “So what do you think?”

  “Pretty sneaky. Must be the assassin in you.” She ducked as he threw his pencil.

  They both started as the door opened. Matt knocked over the chair has he bolted upright.

  “Whoa. You two are jumpy.” Elijah walked into the library with his coat half off.

  “You were pretty quiet coming in. Something up?”

  Her father turned to face his daughter as he hung up his coat. “I may have found something interesting.” His smile was fleeting. A loud crash resounded from the front door. Elijah flung himself towards them. All three hit the floor.

  “Dad!”

  “We got unwanted company. Stay down. Stay down!”

  Something hard bounce
d into the hallway. “Tear gas. I’d know that fucking sound anywhere.” A loud hiss was followed by white smoke seeping under the door. He bolted the lock as a second canister banged up against the door. “Close the shutters and lock them. Don’t talk.”

  Crouching down, Eli folded back the corner of the carpet to reveal a trap door. Matt helped him pull on the cast-iron ring. The door creaked open. Eli and Nicole vanished down a narrow stairway as Matt grabbed his journal and notes.

  Boots echoed loudly in the hallway. Matt ducked down the opening as the library door exploded in a shower of splinters and bent metal. The spit from suppressor equipped MAC-10s wheezed into the room. More splinters showered Matt as he reached up to pull the heavy trap closed. Blood from several cuts on his face fell onto the wooden steps.

  “Bolt it! Bolt it now!” Elijah reached up. Matt threw the bolt hard.

  Nicole shook, “Jesus…”

  “Are you hurt?” her father asked.

  “Who are they, Dad? Who are they?”

  “They’re pros. That’s for certain.”

  “And what is this place?” Matt looked around in the dim light.

  “It’s my escape route. Just in case… There’s a tunnel here that connects with an underground Washington Gas amp; Light utility conduit and surfaces a couple of blocks away. Follow me.” Elijah ducked into a hole in the wall. About three hundred yards into the tunnel he stopped and looked back at the other two, crawling on all fours.

  Thrusting his hand into a small recess in the wall the old man felt around and pulled out a small device resembling a garage door opener. It was sealed inside a zip-lock bag. “Ready?” Without waiting for a reply, he pushed the red button. Two seconds later there was a dull thud overhead immediately followed by a huge explosion that rocked the tunnel and showered them with dirt.

  “What the hell is that?” Nicole exclaimed.

  “It’s designed to look like a gas leak-I’ll collect the insurance money later.”

  “Are they dead?” Dirt now mixed with the blood on Matt’s face.

  “They’re toast!.” Elijah started crawling forward again.

  “But Dad, what about all your belongings? Your clothes, your furniture, your books?”

  This guy’s a professional too. Matt looked at Nicole, who stared open mouthed at her father.

  “I have an emergency safe house where I’ve stashed most of my important things. We’ll hole up there.”

  A few hundred yards along a ladder came into view. They clambered up, one after the other. Sirens blared just a few blocks away. Before emerging into broad daylight they brushed the dirt off their hair and faces. Nicole used a handkerchief on Matt’s cuts.

  An aluminum conduit cover, bolted from the inside, lead out to the street. Eli cracked it and motioned them to follow. They scrambled out into the bright winter sunlight and walked several blocks to the rental car. In minutes they were approaching downtown Washington and a small apartment in a run-down area northwest of Union Station.

  Matt looked out at the run-down buildings.

  “So how are you two feeling?” Elijah said.

  “Shaken up and very scared.” Nicole snuggled next to her father. “Tear gas. Guns. And they were so quiet, no loud ratta tat. Were those silencers?”

  “Suppressors actually. They keep the noise level down to 40dB. Lower on. 223 calibers, but these were throwing nine mills.”

  Nicole stared at him. “At times like this you frighten me, Dad.”

  “It’s what drove your mother and me apart.” He turned away.

  “Well at this point I’m glad you’re on our side.” Matt slowed down for a traffic light. “Eli. You talked earlier about going to meet someone you trusted…”

  “I did talk to him. I told him what we surmise is happening.”

  “And?”

  “All he said was ‘Thank You’. Which in spook speak means I’d just given him a key piece to a very big puzzle.”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Nicole looking at the father she barely knew. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, but its water under the bridge now. There was a stakeout car parked up the street from the house. Guess I don’t have to tell you we’re lucky to be alive.” Eli shook his head and wiped his brow. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  “Thanks Dad.” Nicole kissed him on the cheek.

  ***

  The Hart Senate Building

  Senator Stevens spoke quietly into his private cell phone. “Look, this evening is not a good time to meet. I’ve got an important dinner engagement. You know the less we meet the better for everyone concerned.”

  “I realize the risks, Senator, but we’ve got a situation that needs your immediate support. I’m having a function at the Embassy this evening. Why don’t you stop by for a quick drink on the way to your dinner? It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Can’t we just deal with it here and now? Obviously you people have screwed up again.”

  “Actually, it’s good news. Our problems were eliminated in a freak explosion caused by a gas leak. The contractors got caught in the blast as well. I just need a little support from you to put a lid on anything the fire department or police may find in the rubble. It wouldn’t do for too many people to be asking questions.”

  “I’ll get on it right away. It’s about time you got something right. I’ll be there at 7:15.” The Senator snapped his cell phone closed and chuckled.

  ***

  Potomac, Maryland

  Nicole nudged him. “Ring the doorbell, Matt, we’re committed now.” They stood in front of the large double doors of Dr. Thomas’s Potomac residence. Matt felt odd coming back here again. This was where it all started. The reception for Dr. Melikian, the accident, Kelly’s death, and everything else.

  He pressed the buzzer. The door opened right away, taking them by surprise. A butler stood before them. “Yes?”

  “Dr. Thomas is expecting me. I’m Dr. Wilson Richards and this is Ms. Nicole Delacluse.”

  “Yes sir. This way, please.” The elderly butler led them into Dr. Thomas’s library and took their coats. “I’ll announce your arrival. Dr. Thomas is taking a phone call at the moment. It shouldn’t be too long. Would you care for tea or coffee while you’re waiting?”

  “Coffee please.” Matt glanced around where several weeks ago he punched Senator Stevens, breaking his nose and knocking out several teeth. He rubbed his hand unconsciously. Photos of Dr. Martin J. Thomas with various dignitaries, including heads of state and former Presidents filled the desk and coffee table. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases offered elegant bindings. A diploma from Yale University held the place of honor on the wall behind a carved Jeffersonian desk.

  The butler returned with a silver coffee service. “Dr. Thomas will be right down.” He departed with a quick bow.

  Nicole poured two cups of coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as the spoon slipped from her hand and dropped on the carpet. Bending down to retrieve it she deftly placed the small listening device Eli had given her on the underside of Dr. Thomas’ desk.

  A few moments later the door opened. Nicole turned around, spoon in hand. Dr. Martin Thomas walked in. As soon as he saw his visitors, he stopped. “You’re not Wilson Richards.”

  “No, sir. I’m not.”

  “Just what are you doing here – both of you?”

  “Dr. Thomas, listen to me carefully. We don’t mean you any harm and I regret the subterfuge in coming here but you must hear me out. And the truth may be little hard to take.”

  Dr. Thomas stood still and watched them. “Try me.”

  “Very well. My name is Matthew Richards. Dr. Matthew Richards.”

  “That’s preposterous. I know Matt Richards.”

  “Look at the scars on his face, Dr. Thomas,” Nicole said, pleading.

  “What?”

  “The scars around his hairline. He’s been given a face transplant.”

  Matt nodded. “Go ahead, Dr. Thomas. It really is me.”r />
  Martin Thomas hesitated then stepped forward and examined Matt’s hairline. “Dear God. What…? Who…?”

  “It’s a full face transplant, sir. They did it to me just after the party you held for Dr. Mekikian’s appointment. After I was reported dead.”

  “You were killed in a car crash with Senator Stevens’ daughter that night. How…?” Dr. Thomas slowly lowered himself into an armchair, still staring at Matt.

  “I was kidnapped, reported as dead, and given this new face.” Matt sat in the opposite facing chair.

  Dr. Thomas stared. “This doesn’t mean you are Matthew Richards. It only proves you have a new face.”

  Matt laughed. A look of bewilderment spread across Dr. Thomas’ face. “Okay. Fair enough. How about this? I was at the reception for Dr. Melikian. You and I spoke briefly in the receiving line. You asked about my father and then said you were sorry to hear about the death of my brother, Sam. Later that evening I flattened Senator Stevens, right here in this room and left with his daughter.”

  Dr. Thomas nodded thoughtfully.

  “And remember the time I came to your office at AUB asking for advice about medical school? You told me that just because I came from a long line of prominent physicians that was no guarantee it was the life for me. You said a person had to have the calling, it was in their blood, otherwise they wouldn’t be happy with such a demanding career.” Matt smiled ruefully. “I should have listened to your advice, Dr. Thomas. I didn’t turn out to be a very good physician.”

  “What are you thinking, Dr. Thomas?” asked Nicole.

  “I’m thinking about the transplant and the stitches and how the healing process would fit into the time frame. It fits.” He looked from Nicole to Matt. “What have they done to you? And why?”

  “Are you ready for more hard news?”

  “Can I have some coffee first?” Nicole handed him a cup. “Okay, what next?”

  “Whoever did this to me believes there is a terrorist cell here in Washington actively plotting to kill the President and that one or more of the students we both knew during that year at AUB are involved.”