CIA Fall Guy

by Miller, Phyllis Zimbler

  Then she was out the door.

  David looked at his watch and looked at it again a few minutes later. What could be taking Beth so long? He looked at his watch another few minutes later.

  He got up, opened the compartment door, and peered down the hall. He saw nothing but felt a loud thump on his head.

  **

  Beth shook her head, trying to clear the confusion she felt. She tried to raise a hand to feel why her head hurt, but she couldn't move her hand.

  She looked down to see her feet were tied and her wrists were apparently tied behind her. This was ridiculous! Did David think he had to actually enact the film “The Lady Vanishes”?

  In the next moment she saw David tied up beside her and apparently still unconscious.

  She looked around, saw they were in a baggage compartment and that no one else seemed to be there. Then she risked speaking. “David, David!”

  No answer. She wiggled closer to him and butted her head gently into his shoulder.

  “David, wake up!”

  David groaned, shook his head, and looked at her.

  “We vanished,” she said.

  David eyed their trussed bodies. “At least we're not mummified in bandages.”

  Beth laughed, then glared at him. “Think, David. We have to get out of here before the next train stop.”

  “Can you reach inside my belt with your mouth?”

  “What?”

  “I have a tiny but very sharp knife taped inside my belt.”

  For heaven's sake. First the underground bunkers and now playing assistant in a carnival contortion act.

  “How am I going to hold a knife in my mouth to cut the ropes?”

  “Just get the knife.”

  “I'll cut myself.”

  “It's snapped closed!”

  Beth wiggled herself into a better position and maneuvered her mouth down to David's waist. She bit into the belt until she got her mouth around the knife — and pulled it from the holder. Thank heavens there were no cameras to catch her doing this!

  “Now put the knife in my hands,” he said.

  She maneuvered behind him and brought her mouth down to his hands. Shit!

  He appeared not to notice but simply wrapped his hands around the knife and flipped a tiny button that flicked the blade out.

  David now wiggled behind Beth and worked on cutting the ropes off her hands. When he succeeded, she took the knife from him and cut the ropes off David's hands.

  Then he used the knife to cut the ropes from both their feet.

  While he did so, Beth had a momentary memory of playing cowboys and Indians at age 10 with a neighborhood boy. He had tied her to a tree and it had been fun then. Not so much now.

  David got up and pulled Beth up before returning the knife to his hiding place. He checked for his gun, which of course wasn't there. Then he grabbed their backpacks, which Beth hadn't noticed lay nearby, and there were no guns there either.

  David opened the door of the baggage car and eyed the terrain. He turned back to Beth.

  Before he said anything, she said, “We're going to have to jump again, aren't we?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “And we don't have chutes this time.”

  David put her backpack on her back and his backpack on his back.

  “Roll when you hit the ground.”

  She stood with him at the open door.

  “Now!” he said.

  She and David flew through the air — and miraculously landed in a haystack.

  The next moment David pulled her out of the stack and began brushing the hay strands off her clothes.

  She froze — and he moved his hands off her.

  She hadn't meant to act that way. To make up for this she said, “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  David didn't reply. He simply turned and started down the road alongside the tracks. Beth almost had to run to keep up.

  When he finally slowed down, she said, “Someone hit me as I left the bathroom.”

  “I didn't see who hit me. Did you?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Whoever it is — they're damn good at tracking us — even without the bug.”

  Beth's foot caught in a pothole. David jerked her up before she stumbled forwards.

  When she caught her breath she said, “Maybe it's not the same people.”

  David stared at her. “Why do you say that?

  “It feels as if we're in the center of a ball of yarn. Different people are unrolling the ball from their own ends while we remain caught in the middle.”

  “Interesting observation — from a civilian.”

  Some time later Beth sat on a bench outside a shack at the end of a single airstrip while David negotiated with a young man who appeared to own the small prop plane on the airstrip.

  David walked over to Beth and motioned her to follow up into the plane.

  As they buckled up David said, “He'll fly us to Bremerhaven. We'll be able to find a plane there to take us back to the U.S.

  “Did you ask if he has insurance — in case someone shoots at his plane?”

  David laughed.

  Beth looked around the interior. “There are no parachutes. I hope we get to land correctly this time.”

  **

  After a normal landing at Bremerhaven, she waited outside the hangar until David emerged, checking a gun he held in his hands.

  “Where did you get that?” Beth asked.

  “You would be amazed what you can get with a credit card. The exchange rate was so good I bought two.”

  “Wait a second! You told me using my credit card was my first mistake.”

  David looked at her. “It wasn't my credit card,” he said. “I mean it wasn't in my name or in any name associated with me.”

  “Oh” was all she could manage.

  David slipped the gun into a pocket, then waved her towards a plane revving up on the runway.

  “I suppose no food service again,” she said. “But as long as it has a toilet.”

  Hours later Beth and David both stirred from their seats. “Where are we going to land — we are going to actually land, aren't?" she said. "And what are we looking for?”

  David gestured outside the plane window, where the setting sun streaked the horizon. “We're going to land outside Baltimore. The information Jim located has to do with a German national group based in Baltimore.”

  “Did you tell this to Rodney and Kathleen?” Beth asked.

  David shook his head. “Strictly a need-to-know basis.”

  Beth opened her backpack to find a comb. “What does this group have to do with us?”

  “Not sure. It's tied in with some other information I learned from the Stasi files.”

  Beth checked her face in a compact mirror. “Can we at least go clothes shopping — at a reasonably priced store? I've worn these for days.”

  David shook his head. “We're on a tight schedule.”

  Thirty minutes later Beth sat behind the wheel of a rental car while David leaned in to talk to her.

  “I'll see what I can find out and meet you in the Inner Harbor tomorrow morning at 9,” he said.

  Her hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel. Was she suddenly afraid to be alone after all these years? “I want to go with you.”

  “We've been over this.” He patted her hand. “Check into the motel I chose — use the cash I gave you — and don't do anything until you meet me.”

  “How about giving me a gun?”

  David shook his head. “Do you know how many people accidentally shoot themselves?”

  “Give me the second gun!”

  David pulled the second gun from the ankle holster on his left leg and gave it to her. She checked that the safety was on, then shoved the gun in her backpack.

  DAY 6

  Once again Beth found herself sitting on a bench waiting for David. Only this bench was outside the walls of Fort McHenry and he was a half hour late already.
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  She hadn't slept well last night. She kept telling herself she wasn't really alone — David did know where she was. But still the thought …

  Suddenly from the corner of her eye she spotted that dandy Charles from the CIA.

  She jumped up and dashed through the gate of the five-pointed fort. She galloped up narrow stone steps and along the parapet. Then she dropped down into a depression behind a 5-foot high stone wall.

  Trying to quiet her breathing, she stuck her hand inside her backpack to get the gun.

  “There you are, Beth,” she heard Charles say.

  Damn! “Charles?”

  Charles' head appeared over the wall. “At your service.”

  Beth left the gun in her backpack and came around the wall. “What are you doing here?” she said. “How did you find me?'

  Charles smiled. “David sent me to get you. He couldn't make the meet in time.”

  Beth glared back at Charles. “Why not?”

  Charles shrugged — just one shoulder. “He's following some lead. Didn't say what. Just asked me to meet you and bring you to him.”

  Beth walked behind Charles down the stone steps. Nearby she spotted the public washroom facilities.

  “Charles, I need to use the facilities. I'll only be a sec.”

  Charles nodded and planted himself outside the facilities.

  Inside the public washroom Beth immediately walked over to the solitary window and looked out. The drop to the ground was not difficult, but from there the parapet blocked any escape path.

  She walked out of the restroom and up to Charles. “I'll follow you in my car.”

  Charles put his hand on her arm. “I'll take you. We can come back for your car later.”

  Beth shook off his arm. “I like to drive myself.”

  Some time later she pulled her car in besides Charles in front of a cabin. Where the hell were they?

  She got out of the car and walked behind Charles. Just as they had almost reached the cabin door, she grabbed his arm and stuck her gun in his side.

  “Charles, we're going to play by ops rules. This had better not be a set-up.”

  “My dear Beth, what are you talking about?”

  Beth didn't respond. She kept the gun in one hand and patted him down with the other.

  Then she motioned with her head for him to walk with her around the other side of the cabin and approached it from the back.

  Beth held the gun on Charles while she peered in the back window.

  “No one is there,” he said. “The cabin is completely empty.”

  Beth indicated with her head that Charles should walk over to a grassy area enclosed by bushes and sit down.

  “Not exactly empty,” she said. “There is quite a collection of equipment. The only thing missing are the white sheets. Where's David?”

  Charles lowered himself to a sitting position on the grass. “He probably hasn't gotten here yet. Your concerns are for nothing.”

  Beth sat down across from Charles, her gun still pointed at him.

  “To be on the safe side we'll just wait here.”

  What else could she do? She had no idea where David was.

  Charles now decided to tell her it was going to be a long wait.

  She just looked at him, her expression asking the question of how would Charles know that if he didn't know where David was.

  “I lied,” Charles finally said. “He's taking a vacation, while visiting Colonial Williamsburg.”

  What the hell?

  “Okay, not a vacation. Some Langley people concerned with recent problems in united Germany are meeting at the Williamsburg Inn. David's there. I was supposed to keep you occupied here at the cabin until he got back — he was afraid you would wander off into danger.”

  Beth played this scenario in her head — and it didn't make sense, especially as described by Charles. She would call Charles' bluff.

  “Let's go see,” she said, gesturing Charles to get up.

  She walked him to her rental car and motioned him behind the driver's seat. Then she sat next to him with her gun in her hand.

  She figured Colonial Williamsburg was about four hours away. For the first two hours she said nothing except to give Charles driving instructions as she read the highway signs. About an hour after they had skirted DC Charles announced he needed a rest stop to use the facilities.

  “You can pull over and go alongside the road while I watch you,” she said.

  “Watch me?”

  “I've seen the item in question before. But I have a better idea — I'll go too. So pull over at the next rest stop.”

  Beth figured out her next actions in the 10 minutes it took for a rest stop to appear. Once Charles had turned off the car and handed her the key, she jumped out of the passenger side and came around to the driver's side.

  She put her arm around his waist and pushed the gun into his side in a way that no one could see.

  “You can't go into the men's room,” Charles said.

  “You're going with me into the women's. I have the perfect cover story.”

  Beth entered the restroom pushing Charles in front of her. A startled woman drying her hands let out a help of surprise.

  “I'm taking him home to do right by my sister,” Beth said. “What you call a shotgun wedding. Can't let him out of my sight. Could you help me?”

  The young woman nodded. “Take this gun and keep it on his door while I go too.”

  Beth pushed Charles into a stall and then dashed into the next one. Moments later Beth came out of the stall, flicker her hands under the water faucet, wiped her hands on her pants and took the gun back. The door to Charles' stall was still closed.

  Beth glanced at the stall and spotted the top of a window behind the stall.

  “Got to go — thanks for the help,” she said as she ran out of the rest room.

  Outside Beth arrived under the rest room window just as Charles' leg appeared slung over the windowsill.

  Charles dropped down to the ground to face Beth and her gun.

  “I know this trick, too,” Beth said. “You're lucky I'm not in a shooting mood.”

  Charles brushed off his pants. “You probably can't even shoot.”

  “Do you want to find out?” Beth asked.

  Another two hours brought them to the parking lot of the Williamsburg Inn. Beth repeated the maneuver she'd done at the rest stop.

  When she motioned Charles out of the drivers' side, he said, “A rest stop is one thing — all kinds of weirdos there. You can't walk into this hotel with a gun in my side.”

  For answer she shoved her gun harder into his side.

  Suddenly shots were fired toward Beth and Charles. She quickly changed direction and propelled Charles towards the village of Colonial Williamsburg.

  Once there, she hurried Charles down Duke of Gloucester Street lined with taverns and stores.

  Then she pushed him out on the green where a demonstration of the Williamsburg militia marched up and down near the Magazine and Guardhouse. The militiamen loaded their muskets and prepared to demonstrate their shooting.

  As they fired, shots were fired at Beth and Charles. Beth pulled herself and Charles behind a gaggle of tourists watching the demonstration.

  Suddenly off to one side Beth caught sight of David! Being force-marched by an unknown man.

  She paused only for a second before bringing her right leg up and down in a kick that smashed Charles' knee. He screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground.

  She bent over him and searched him for a cell phone — he may not have been able to walk away but she didn't want him calling anyone with a warning.

  When she found his phone, she said, “You won't be going anywhere and I've got something to do.” Then she took off after David as she saw him go past the courthouse.

  Beth followed David and the man up the divided Palace Street leading to the Governor's Palace, trying to keep behind tourists and trees as she followed them.

  The t
wo men entered the palace and went through the foyer and disappeared down the central hall. Beth followed them through the foyer, suppressing a shudder at the overwhelming display of muskets lining the high-ceilinged walls.

  She ducked around tourists as she followed the men down the hall and outside to the gardens, where the men headed towards the maze, as she learned from a signpost.

  Beth hesitated for only a second before following them into the maze. Within moments she was lost. She stopped, straining her ears to listen for others.

  Then she continued on in the maze, finally stumbling out again. Either she missed David and the man in the maze, or they got out before her and she has lost them!

  Beth scuttled back to the Inn, dodging more tourists walking along Duke of Gloucester Street. When she turned south towards the Inn, more shots were fired towards her.

  She dropped behind a real wood pile and stuck her hand around the pile to shoot. After she shot one round, she ducked down behind the pile again. The second time she fired two shots before ducking down. She peered over the woodpile when suddenly she was grabbed from behind.

  She used the martial arts technique she had employed on the attacker who had grabbed her from behind at the Glockenspiel performance in Munich. After breaking this new attacker's hold and sweeping him off balance, she raised her leg and slammed her foot down on his knee the same as she had smashed Charles' knee. The attacker screamed in pain. She looked at his face — she had never before seen him.

  Beth picked up the attacker's gun from where it had fallen, snapped on the safety, and shoved it in her backpack. She was afraid to pull this unknown attacker behind the woodpile in case he tackled her while she was trying to move him. He'd have to remain where he was.

  Beth rushed to the Inn, shoving her own gun into the backpack when she entered the foyer featuring a sign announcing the events of the day. “The League for a United Germany” was listed in one of the conference rooms. She hurried to the indicated room and marched into a gathering of 10 men sitting around a large conference table. CIA George was at the head of the table and he gasped out her name. She decided to use persuasion first, guns second.

  “Get up, George,” she said. “We have business to attend to.”