The Monroe Decision

by Patrick Clark

  “Nigel, this is Aaron.”

  Stafford walked out of the kitchen toward his fiancée’s small home office and closed the door. Along the way, he questioned in an unusually loud whisper, “Jesus, Aaron, where have you been? The shit has really hit the fan!”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what bro, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” replied Aaron. “I’m sitting at the desk of David Singer at Coleman-Brown. You might want to get a warrant to arrest him and every other member of the board of directors.”

  “What do you know about Coleman-Brown?” Stafford asked.

  “Everything. I’m sitting at the CEO’s desk scrolling through his files. These bastards have a business plan, Nigel. Their business strategy is to make sure there is a continued need for their counter and anti-terrorism products and training. They have a damn business strategy that calls for continued growth by investing in the development and maintenance of terrorist organizations.”

  “Holy shit!” Stafford moaned.

  “Are you near a computer?” asked Aaron.

  “Yeah, I’m at my fiancée’s apartment. I can log on to her computer.”

  “Do it,” replied Aaron. “I’m sending you all of Singer’s files on your unclassified account. The e-mail will originate from a Coleman-Brown e-mail.”

  Stafford sat at the computer in his fiancés apartment and logged on. Aaron continued, “There’s a facility located on the muddy river near Bloxom, Virginia. I believe it’s a training facility for an ISIS-inspired terror cell here in America.”

  “Jesus,” Stafford groaned.

  “I’d suggest sending a couple hundred FBI party crashers to that sight ASAP.”

  “Aaron, I need you to get out of that building and let us handle this officially now. Go back to your brownstone and lay low until this is over and we can clear you of all the charges against you. Dude, you are a wanted man around the world,” Stafford explained.

  Aaron gazed out the window and saw the lights of an approaching helicopter and heard the whop-whop of the rotors as the helo slowed and prepared to land on the roof.

  “I can’t do that, Nigel,” Aaron replied. “I have unfinished business. Lee Ellsberg is in on this.”

  “No way. Ellsberg? I never would have guessed it.”

  “He has Sarah and I don’t know about her right now,” Aaron continued.

  “Aaron,” Stafford tried to interrupt.

  “With these files, you have everything you need to take this company down and put these fuckers away for a long time. So make sure you do that.” Aaron paused for a moment then declared, “I’m going to end it with Ellsberg tonight.”

  Aaron placed the handset back on the phone and disconnected the call.

  * * *

  The files Aaron sent to Stafford were shocking. They detailed a five-year strategic business plan, complete with capture management activities and specific measurable objectives, schedules, and completion dates assigned to key members of the Coleman-Brown Board of Directors. The plan was to be the premium supplier of first responder, anti-terrorism, and counterterrorism equipment and training to the United States and its allied nations.

  The thrust of the capture plan was to provide financial and training support to a robust global terrorist network thereby ensuring a continued requirement for the equipment and services provided by Coleman-Brown.

  Of particular interest to Stafford were the voluminous bookkeeping files that detailed payments to specific organizations and individuals. These included periodic purchases and sales labeled al-Qaeda recruiting, ISIS recruiting, and Boko Harem recruiting. Everything Aaron suspected is true.

  He found details of the training facility Aaron had mentioned that included a roll call of instructors and trainees and the status of each trainee’s progression. Many of the trainees were considered 80 to 90 percent progressed. He noted the training plan assigned one or two trainees to specific American cities and was tailored to that city.

  Stafford continued to scroll through the bookkeeping files, then stopped at a payroll accounting file. It detailed salaries of all the individuals that supported the capture plan. He muttered, “Holy Shit,” when he came across the name Jonah Walsh and recognized he received a monthly stipend of $10,000.

  He picked up his cell phone and placed it in secure mode, then placed a call to the vice president.

  * * *

  There was a slight tremble in Singer’s top floor office when the helo set down on the rooftop and Aaron heard the turbines shut down. He took two deep breaths and closed his eyes to visualize his surroundings and course of action. He removed all the light bulbs from their sockets and sat on the couch.

  It was eerily quiet as Aaron waited. The only illumination in the room was provided by the glow of the computer screen he left turned on with Singer’s files still open.

  * * *

  “There was no response from the security station when I called to report our arrival so we should assume Monroe already took them out and that he’s in the building,” Ellsberg said as he stepped out of the helicopter on the roof of the Coleman-Brown building.

  The wind blew steady across the rooftop and Singer held Sarah by the arm as she exited the helicopter. He kept the barrel of a Magnum .44 caliber pistol poked on her back and warned her, “Don’t get cute because this caliber gun doesn’t kid around.”

  Merideth stepped out last and then Singer pushed Sarah toward the doorway to the inner building as Ellsberg attached the tie downs to the helicopter’s skids to prevent it from blowing over the side in the wind.

  “Monroe is a sneaky bastard, and if he’s already inside, he’ll have the advantage on us so we need to walk slowly and cautiously and make sure we have each other’s back.”

  “That’s all true,” replied Singer, “but we have her.” He smiled a toothy grin and slapped Sarah on her behind.

  “You’re disgusting,” spat Sarah.

  “I’ll go through the door first,” said Ellsberg as he handed one of his Glock pistols to Merideth. He turned toward Sarah and said, “You follow right behind me. And Mer, if she does anything other than follow my footsteps, I want you to shoot her.” Then he turned toward Singer and said, “You come in last and you need to be alert and ready in case Monroe comes up behind us. Are we all clear?”

  Singer and Merideth nodded. Sarah glared angrily at him.

  Ellsberg slowly pushed open the door and then descended down a staircase to the top floor. Only nightlights at the platform on the roof level and the platform at the top floor dimly lighted the stairwell. He pushed open the door and stepped into the foyer of the outer offices of the Coleman-Brown senior managers. Merideth followed Ellsberg into the open space. She held Sarah’s arm and trained the Glock pistol at her back. The last one through the door was Singer.

  “It’s dark so move slowly and quietly,” whispered Ellsberg. “Watch out for anything you could trip over.” With his back toward Singer, he started to creep over toward the side of the space where his office was located, then he heard Sarah yelp. Ellsberg jumped to a shooting position on one knee when he saw that Singer had grabbed Sarah and pushed her past the receptionist desk toward his office. “David!” he whispered.

  Singer turned on the outer office lights and kept pushing Sarah toward his office.

  * * *

  Aaron also heard Sarah yelp. He also heard some commotion and saw the outer room lights illuminate. Then he heard footsteps. Here he comes. It’s showtime. Aaron rose and walked to the darkest place in the room and stood with his back to the wall.

  Sarah entered the room first followed by a thin man of average height carrying a weapon. The man reached for the light switch and flipped it.

  “Someone must have forgotten to pay the bill,” Aaron said to bait the man.

  He quickly swung around toward Aaron and fired four shots that plugged harmlessly into the wall.

  Unlike the unfortunate aggressor, Aaron clearly saw his target. He aimed and double tapped the trigger and returned fire. T
he wall behind the man’s head clouded a darker shade and he dropped to the floor.

  Sarah screamed and fell to the floor. “Aaron, is that you?” she called out.

  Aaron maintained his gaze on Sarah but remained silent.

  “Aaron?” she called out again. Then she crawled on her knees to where Singer’s magnum was on the floor and picked it up.

  “Drop the gun, Sarah,” Aaron demanded. He stepped out of the darkness into an area that was partially illuminated by the light from the outer office. He hung his arms at his side, the Sig Sauer in his right hand.

  She stood and said, “Oh god, Aaron, I’m so glad you’re here.” She stepped toward him.

  Aaron raised his voice and said, “Stop and drop the gun, Sarah.”

  She flinched and stopped suddenly. “Aaron, what’s wrong? Ellsberg is in the building and he may bring in a security team.”

  “Whose side are you on?” Aaron shouted.

  “Baby, what do you mean?” pleaded Sarah. She moved toward him and raised her outstretched arms.

  She still has the gun!

  Aaron lifted his weapon and fired.

  The bullet entered the right side of her chest under the shoulder bone and Sarah was sprawled on the floor when Ellsberg entered the room. Aaron had moved to her and dropped to his knees and started to apply pressure to the wound and check her pulse.

  * * *

  Aaron turned toward Ellsberg. His mouth hung open and his eyes glistened. For a moment, Ellsberg felt sorry for Aaron, but he also knew there was no turning back. “I’m sorry, bro,” Ellsberg said. “I wish this never happened.”

  Aaron’s gaze darted around the room and came to rest on the couch. Ellsberg realized he was looking at his gun and that it was at least ten feet away. They both glanced at the magnum Sarah dropped on the floor next to Singer’s body.

  Aaron started to move toward it and Ellsberg said, “Uh-uh buddy. Can’t let you have that. Move over there.” With the barrel of his Glock, he motioned for Aaron to move over to the desk and away from any weapons.

  Aaron rose and stood by the desk as he was told. Stafford saw that his fists were balled and his eyes were narrow and rigid. “I can feel the hate, Aaron. You want to kill me so badly the hate is oozing out of your pores.”

  Merideth stepped in behind Ellsberg. She walked up and stood next to him.

  “I hope you believe that I never wanted it to end this way,” Ellsberg explained. “I tried to tell you not to get involved but you didn’t listen.” He chuckled, then continued, “It’s ironic, isn’t it? You found yourself a rich, beautiful woman and could have spent the rest of your life living large. Now she’s dead and Mer here has transferred $10 million from Coleman-Brown to an account in the Caymans, and now we’re going to be living large.” He exhaled hard, then said, “And you’ll be dead.”

  Ellsberg reached over and held Merideth’s hand. “I saw a nice place in Rio that overlooks Joatinga beach. Wish I could invite you for a visit,” he said to Aaron.

  “Taunt me all you want, Lee, but I already sent of all of Singer’s files to the Council. This party is over.”

  “As usual, Aaron, you make a good point. It’s time to go.” Ellsberg let go of Merideth’s hand and said, “You don’t need to see this. Why don’t you go down to the car. I’ll finish up here and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  She kissed his cheek and left the room.

  Aaron glared at Ellsberg. “You sold out everything. Your country, your friends and family. Everything. For money.”

  “And a nice piece of ass. Did you just see who I’m going to Rio with?”

  The bell signaling the elevator had arrived chimed. Then chimed again to signal it was on its way down.

  “I hope you burn in hell,” said Aaron.

  “We both will,” Ellsberg replied as he lifted his Glock and aimed it at Aaron’s forehead.

  Aaron closed his eyes and braced for the bullet.

  Bang! The sound of a .44 magnum echoed in the enclosed office and as Aaron opened his eyes he saw the side of Ellsberg’s head explode before he dropped to the floor.

  He turned his gaze toward the sound of the shot. Sarah was sprawled on the floor and she leaned on her elbows. She held the magnum in both hands, just like he had taught her. All the features of her beautiful face drooped downward and her green eyes were filled with tears. She dropped the gun and her body went limp.

  Aaron rushed to her and held her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

  * * *

  The stairwell doors on both sides of the foyer burst open simultaneously and agents from the Secret Service and FBI wearing black Kevlar vests and helmets with face masks stormed the offices. They carried automatic assault pistols as they entered.

  “Get down on the floor,” shouted the first agent to enter Singer’s office.

  Aaron still held Sarah in his arms. He gazed up at the agent and said, “It’s a code forty-four. She needs help now.”

  The agent flinched, then called out, “Agent down! There’s an agent down!”

  Stafford burst into the room and removed his helmet. His gaze locked with Aaron’s and he spoke into his shoulder mike, “Chest wound! I need EMT to the top floor now!”

  Stafford’s gaze wandered around the room and he took in the carnage and gave Aaron an understanding nod. Then he kneeled on the floor next to his former SEAL team commander, current partner in covert operations, and friend. He placed his hand on Aaron’s shoulder and said, “I’m very sorry.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  WASHINGTON, DC

  THE WHITE HOUSE

  FRIDAY, AUGUST 12TH

  5:45 P.M.

  At a hastily arranged press conference, the president acknowledged several breaking newspaper and network investigative reports that revealed more than two weeks earlier, the FBI, in cooperation with Department of Homeland Security, interrupted a major terrorist plot that was scheduled to be carried out within the next few weeks and would have impacted several major American cities.

  The president acknowledged that a major terrorist operation was averted and that attacks were planned with the complicity of a major corporation with numerous government contracts whose headquarters and senior management resided within the United States.

  “Those responsible for this perverted sense of commerce, as well as those twisted individuals who were about to be unleashed on the innocent in our major cities, have been arrested or eliminated.”

  The president announced that, “a terrorist training facility was discovered not far from the nation’s capital and agents from the FBI, ATF, and Secret Service conducted a raid on that facility which was met by a considerable amount of resistance. That threat has been eliminated.” He continued, “The US government has also cooperated with the governments of the European Union and have provided enough information for their security forces to stop numerous terrorist attacks and arrest many responsible individuals.”

  “Mr. President,” shouted a reporter from a major New York newspaper, “can you provide any additional information about the rumored homicides at the headquarters of Coleman-Brown Industries a few weeks ago? Was there any involvement of FBI or DHS personnel in those homicides?”

  “The rumors of a gunfight that involved covert agents from the government are just that — only rumors. Based on the events our investigators have put together, it would appear that when the responsible managers at Coleman-Brown Industries discovered their activities had been exposed and their arrest was imminent, the chief executive officer and security manager decided suicide was the easy option.” He continued, “The remaining responsible officers of Coleman-Brown are in custody.”

  “Mr. President,” shouted a TV network reporter. “Is there any truth to the rumor there was a covert agent that had gone rogue and that it was he that uncovered the existence of this terrorist activity?”

  “That is absolutely a false assertion,” the president answered. “And that is the last question I have time f
or, but before I leave, I do want to report one bit of sad news. Senator Walsh, the long-standing and very respected senator from Maryland, senior member of the Senate Judiciary Committee on Terrorism, and a personal friend of mine, has died in a tragic accident. He was apparently cleaning a shotgun after a recent hunting trip and the gun accidently went off, killing him instantly. Please keep his family and friends in your thoughts and prayers.”

  * * *

  Aaron stood in the late afternoon sun in front of the graves of Piero and Enrica under a semicircle of cypress trees next to the grave of their only child who had died sixteen years earlier. The graves faced the acres of grape vines they had loved and tended to for many years.

  Sarah walked up behind Aaron and placed her hand in his and leaned her head on his shoulders. “They were so nice to us,” she said softly.

  Aaron turned his head sideways toward Sarah. “They didn’t deserve what happened to them.” Aaron felt her grip tighten on his hand. He sighed and said, “I brought this to them.”

  Sarah stepped in front of Aaron and placed her one good arm behind his head and kissed him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” she said. “You couldn’t have foreseen this.”

  He kissed her again, then half smiled at her. He held her good hand and asked, “When do you start therapy?

  “One more week and the healing should be complete. The therapist said it’ll be another five to six months before I have full motion in my arm.”

  Aaron hugged her tight and said, “I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’ll never forgive myself. How could I not trust you?”

  “Well, at least you shot me in the arm instead of the head. I think you were hedging your hunch. At that range, if you had wanted to kill me, I would certainly be dead. And even though you thought there was a chance I might be working with the enemy, subconsciously, you knew that I wasn’t. That proves you love me and that’s good enough for me.”