by Brett Baker
“What did you take?” I asked.
“Your name.”
“My name? What the hell does that mean? How did Bruce Green even know my name? How did you get him to mention my name?”
“For a few weeks we spent a lot of time together, if you know what I mean. I basically made myself available all day, everyday, and whenever he had a free moment I went to see him. We spent nights together. I traveled to DC with him twice. One time he told his family he had to make another trip out there and we holed up in a cabin on the coast for three days. I drowned him in me, and in the process we talked about legislation he planned to introduce, and bills he’d already passed, and I casually mentioned H.R. 3650. As soon as I brought it up I could see that he was worried.”
“How so? What was he worried about?”
“You. That’s when he mentioned your name.”
“What did he say? What were you talking about? What did he think I could do?”
“I’ll never forget it,” Cleo said. “We were laying in bed, late, well after midnight. In the cabin on the beach. He said something about a busy week ahead, and I asked about 3650. I told him I’d read about it in the paper, and that it seemed like he was being unfairly criticized. That I thought he was just trying to do something good, and people didn’t believe he had a good heart. He agreed. Said that he just wanted to pass laws that made sense, and this made complete sense. He thought most people agreed that it made sense, and that it should pass fairly easily.”
“If it would pass easily then why worry about me?” I asked.
“He said if there was one thing he’d learned during his time in Congress it was that one person could mess things up for the entire country. He listed all these examples of different members, or lobbyists, or corporate bigwigs who single-handedly stopped legislation. And then he said, ‘On this bill, Mia Mathis might be that person.’ I could tell right away that he regretted saying anything. When I asked a question he kissed me and tried to shush me. I kept grilling him, but I got nowhere. I asked him why you would want to stop it, how you could stop it, but no luck. He just changed the subject, pretended like he didn’t even know your name.”
“Sounds like you hit a nerve,” I said.
“I’d say so. I tried for the rest of the time in the cabin to get more info about you, but he wouldn’t budge. He said to butt out, it wasn’t any of my business, and if I kept badgering him about it then he’d stop seeing me. So I stopped. I stayed with him another week or so after that, but since he’d given your name and it didn’t seem like he planned on saying anything else, I ended it again.”
“And went back to Abner?””
“Right. I mean, I’d never really left Abner. We both knew why I was with Bruce, and Abner was fine with it. I told him the little bit of information I’d gleaned from Green, and then Abner’s obsession with you began. He and a couple of other guys did nothing but search for you for a number of weeks. At one point he was in discussions with someone who claimed to have access to FBI databases, and promised he could find you. Luckily they decided against that. But he’d done everything he could and it seemed like it might literally be driving him crazy. He became irritable, he couldn’t sleep, his hands shook all the time.”
“Because of me?” I asked.
“Because of you. He thought you could help with this, and it devastated him that he didn’t know how to reach you. And he did everything he could think of. He spent ten thousand dollars to have some firm do a deep search on you. They used these supercomputers, and a handful of computer experts. Crazy stuff. The whole process is supposedly five million times more thorough than a regular Google search. Anyway, the firm submitted their findings and they said it was the first time that someone appeared not to exist. They were sure that Abner must have made up your name. We didn’t know much else about you, but they couldn’t find anything. It drove him crazy.”
“Yeah, that’s what this guy who worked with Abner said, too. Tanner Dodd, I think his name was. He said there was no sign of me. I told him I’m out there. I’m not hiding. They must not have looked in the right places.”
“I don’t know,” Cleo said. “They thought you were a ghost. But it broke my heart to see Abner so upset. I mean he really wanted to do great things and prevent horrible things, but he couldn’t even figure out how to get in touch with you to stop this bill.”
“Well he would have been frustrated if he did get in touch with me, because I’d have to tell him that I don’t have the first damn clue how to stop the bill. I’ve never heard of Bruce Green, and I don’t know why he’d think I could stop the bill.”
“Have you talked to him since he told you my name?”
“Well, yeah,” Cleo said, as if I’d just asked the dumbest question in the world. “He’s the one who gave me your address and phone number.”
“Green did?” I asked, moving to the edge of the couch. Cleo nodded. “Did he say how he found it?”
“No. I guess he searched in the right places. It took some very special arrangements on my part, and even then he only gave it to me because he was so drunk that he didn’t realize what he was doing. He’s the type of guy who gets drunk and is then convinced that having a good time is the most important thing in the world, and there’s literally nothing anyone can do to change his mind. So he didn’t care about selling out his own bill. It probably didn’t even occur to him that that’s what he was doing.”
“Did Green know that you were going to give the info to Abner? Did he know you were involved with him?”
“Hell no!” Cleo exclaimed. “That’s a damn good way to get myself killed.”
“And Green never told you how I could stop the bill? No clue, no allusion to something?”
“Nothing. That’s just about the only thing he’s ever kept silent on. That’s why finding your information was key. Green wouldn’t tell us how you could stop it, so we had to find out from you how to stop it.”
I looked at Cleo and paused for a moment to try to make sense of our conversation. She’d manipulated Green into giving her the exact information that she wanted, but armed solely with that information I would have been of no help to Chamberlain or the movement. I began to wonder whether Green might have had an ulterior motive.
“Are you confident that Green wasn’t playing you for a fool on all of this? Could he have known about you and Chamberlain, and then when you came calling he decided just to have a little fun with you? Lead you on a bit.”
“That’s a horrible thought,” Cleo said. She looked down at the ground as if pondering the impossible. She leaned forward and put her fingers to her mouth as if ready to begin chewing her nails. Then she leaned backward against the couch, resting her cheek in her right hand. “I just don’t think so. He seemed too genuine when he told me your name, and then tried to cover it up. I don’t think he’s that good of an actor.”
“Then I guess there’s only thing left for me to do,” I said. “I have to go meet with Green.”
“Oh fuck,” Cleo said. She started laughing hysterically, and shook her head. “He’s going to be shocked as shit to see you. Although let me give you a piece of advice, there’s millions and millions of dollars at stake here. If you are the only person who can stop it, then you better take some extraordinary precautions when you meet with Green.”
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me that a member of the United States Congress might plan to do me harm? Do you have information about that?”
“I’m working things out on my own,” Cleo said. “Putting two and two together. With that much money at risk, and the perception that you’re the one who can fuck it up, I think it’s safe to say that your life is in danger.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “I’m used it.”
29
Chapter 29
After finishing my conversation with Cleo, I drove back toward the hotel, but got sidetracked by a record shop. Just off the freeway, in a large one-story building with vertical siding pa
inted in alternate yellow and black stripes, Bumblebee Records had a sign that read:
Vinyl on sale
Today, tomorrow
And forever
I had to stop. I parked the car and went into the store and immediately felt like the oldest person in the place, despite not yet peaking on the long hill climb to forty. I perused the selection, and took two records into a listening booth. I listened to the first side of the first record and liked it enough that I decided to buy both, even though the two artists were unrelated.
Record stores had long been a weakness of mine, and whenever I saw one that looked especially enticing I stopped, no matter what else I had planned. I’d never interrupted a mission while at a record store, but I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t do so if the store were really cool.
When I returned to the hotel I walked through the lobby and heard someone call my name. “Ms Mathis!”
I turned to see a tall, thin Latino man working behind the desk. He had that pristine, well-coifed look that seems to be a requirement for hotel clerks. As I approached the desk he smiled, and put up one finger, as if to tell me to wait just a minute. He turned his attention back to a person standing at the desk. I waited for two or three minutes before he finished and addressed me again. “Thank you so much, Ms. Mathis. My apologies for the delay, but I was told to give you this at the first opportunity, no matter what.” He handed me an envelope. “I’ve just started my shift, so I don’t know who left it. I hope its contents make sense to you.”
“Thank you,” I said as I grabbed the envelope. My name was written on the front, and the flap was sealed. I tore it open and pulled out a piece of hotel stationary. A hand-written note in hard-to-read writing read, “Mia, Had to leave. Give me a call right away. Worth your time.” Davis signed it, and wrote his phone number below.
“It’s okay?” the clerk asked.
I nodded. “It’s just fine, I think. Thanks for passing it on.”
When I reached my room I opened the door and scanned the place before entering. No one waited for me in the bathroom, and the rest of the place was empty, too. I sat on the bed and dialed the number at the bottom of the letter.
Davis answered on the third ring.
“Mia! How’d it go with Cleo?”
“She doesn’t know much. She gave Chamberlain my name though.”
“Why does she think you could restrain the bill?”
“She doesn’t know. She was just passing on information. Not even information really, just a name. My name. Someone thinks that I could fuck it up, so I just have to keep digging to find out who. Next stop is a congressman.”
“Congressman? How’s it feel to know your name is being mentioned in the halls of Congress? You must be important.”
“I suspect that no one’s mentioning my name in Congress. All the shady shit happens in places that aren’t as nice.”
“You’re giving our government too much credit,” Davis said. “There’s plenty of shady shit happening there, too.”
“Yeah, maybe so,” I said. “But what the hell are you doing? Why’d you have to leave so quickly? I thought we were going to try to work together on Chamberlain. I went to do some digging and you ditched out on me.”
“I’m on my way to St. George, Utah,” Davis said.
“Mormon country,” I said.
“That’s right. I’m not looking for Joseph Smith though. Just the opposite. Mount’s there.”
“Mount?” I yelled, with enthusiastic disbelief. “How do you know?”
“Polestar,” Davis said. “They had someone track me down. I called in to get the details. An agent in Flagstaff saw him carry out a hit.”
“Saw him?” I asked. “Like actually saw him pull the trigger? With his own eyes?”
“Exactly. And our agent wasn’t even on a mission. Just happened to be out hiking in some woods near Flagstaff. He sees Mount climbing a tree a few hundred yards ahead of him. Then notices that he’s got a long case with him. A case that looks like a firearm. This piques our guy’s interest, so he finds a tree of his own and watches Mount. For thirty-six hours. While he’s waiting he remembers hearing stories about Mount, and vaguely recalls hearing that The Summit’s worried about him. So he knows that he’s dangerous, he knows why Mount’s there. But he can’t do anything about it.”
“He could warn the target,” I said. “That’s the first thing that comes to my mind. I hope that’s the next part of your story.”
“He can’t do it,” Davis said. “Mount’s perched up in a tree, at least three hundred yards deep into some woods adjacent to a neighborhood. Our guy doesn’t know Mount’s angle. He can’t see what Mount sees. Is Mount watching this house or that house or a third house, or maybe no house at all? Maybe he’s waiting for the mailman, or someone he knows is going to visit, or whatever else. Even if we assume our guy could get down the tree and into the neighborhood without tipping off Mount, the chances that he’d find the right target to inform were slim. Not to mention that he’d open himself up to being targeted by Mount.”
“So he just watched?” I asked, hoping that Davis had a better ending that I hadn’t anticipated.
“He just watched. Saw Mount sit there all those hours, and then he opens his case, pulls out a rifle, and aims it. Keeps his eye on the sight for over an hour. Then, all of a sudden…Pow! Pulls the trigger, blood curdling screams from afar, and our agent’s heart starts racing. Mount’s calm and cool though. Puts the rifle back in its case, lowers himself down the tree, and tramps back through the woods. Passes right beneath our agent, who lets him get a head start, and then follows him. Sees him get into a car and drive away.”
“And now you have to find him in Flagstaff? What makes you think he’s still there? Guys like Mount don’t stay in one place for long. That’s a good way to get caught.”
“Oh, no, I don’t have to find him. Our agent never lost him. When Mount gets in the car and drives away, our guy hitches a ride with the next car. They follow Mount for a couple of miles, and it just so happens that Mount passes right by the trailhead where our guy’s car is parked. So our guy gets into his car and tails Mount around the city. He said the driver had obviously been trained to avoid being followed. Anyone other than someone who worked for The Summit would have lost him. But our guy stayed with him, watched him get out of the car, and that’s where he is now. He’s been on this for close to 48 hours now.”
“He just falls into your lap,” I said. “How come none of my investigations ever turn out like that?”
“I guess you just don’t know what you’re doing,” Davis said. “It’s better to just let other people do the work for you.”
“Yeah, I guess you have it all figured out. Why are you they calling you in for this anyway? We have an agent right there. Why not have him eliminate Mount? Or at least make contact with him.”
“Too risky,” Davis said. “But seriously, I’m glad because after all the work I’ve put in on this I feel like I deserve to bring him in, but you’re right, anything can happen while I’m driving to St. George. Makes sense to just take him out at the first opportunity, but Polestar has specific instructions that no additional agents are supposed to make contact with Mount. They’re concerned that if Mount is hunting agents from The Summit, the more agents he comes in contact with, the easier it will be to uncover everything. So it’s best to limit the number of agents who contact him. Fewer fingerprints to track, I guess. Since I’ve been working on this, I’m the lucky one who gets to bring him in.”
“Bring him in?” I asked with alarm. “You’re not going to try to capture him, are you? Seems like an unnecessary risk. Better to just take him out, I think. If you try to bring him in and fail, then who knows what he’ll find out about The Summit.”
“We don’t just need him dead though,” Davis said. “If he’s hunting agents, then, yes, he needs to die. But first we need to find out how he knows who’s an agent. His information is more valuable than his death at this point.”<
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“Not if you’re a target of his,” I said.
“Well then let’s hope we’re not targets.” Davis said. “I’ll find out soon, I’m sure.” We both remained silent for a few seconds and I wanted to ask if he had any hesitation in meeting Mount. I hadn’t felt intimidated by an adversary in years, but someone like Mount would challenge even the most seasoned agent. Few targets have had an aura as intense as the aura that surrounded Mount. The detached manner in which he carried out his murders, and his nomadic existence had helped turn him into a sort of maniacal legend. However, the work we do at The Summit is difficult enough without anyone planting doubts in our mind, so I decided not to ask how Davis felt about going after him.
Davis broke the silence. “So what’s your plan with the congressman? Who is it anyway?”
“Bruce Green. His district is in northern California. Heavily forested, so I guess it makes sense he’d be involved in a forestry bill. I’m not sure how it connects with me though. My plan is to go in there and talk to him. I don’t know much about him, but I think I know enough just in my conversation with Cleo. I’ve talked to guys like him before. They’re basically big children. They want to be the center of attention, they need to be told how great they are, and nothing makes them happier than having their ego stroked.”
“So flattery?” Davis asked.
“Flattery will get you anywhere you want to go.”
“Maybe I’ll try that with Mount. I’ll tell him how much I enjoy his work, how creative his bloodshed is, how frightening he is. See if maybe I can just sweet talk him into telling me everything I want to know.”