by Stephen Frey
“Yes, it is.”
“I hate what it stands for, Stewart, but I’m a sucker for history. This is amazing,” he murmured, tapping Nixon’s neat, flowing signature at the bottom of the page. “Truly amazing,” he repeated.
“More amazing than we’d anticipated,” Baxter muttered regretfully.
“What do you mean?” Dorn asked as the enthusiasm drained from his expression. He’d recognized that concerned tone of Baxter’s.
“I took the document to two people to confirm its authenticity and to try to determine its potential impact. The first person absolutely confirmed Nixon’s signature. He said it was quite extraordinary, too.”
“Why?”
“By late 1973, Nixon’s signature was illegible, for all intents and purposes. In fact, his signature on his letter of resignation in 1974 is basically nothing but a horizontal straight line. The guy I took the order to showed me that signature. It’s as if Nixon didn’t want anyone recognizing it, as if he was ashamed and completely exhausted from being president and wished he’d never even considered running. Which is understandable, I suppose, given everything that happened to him.” Baxter gestured at the paper Dorn was holding. “But the signature on that document is bold and flowing. It’s what his signature looked like back in ’68 when he was first elected. The expert showed me that signature as well, and it was very different. You could tell he was excited about being president back then.” Baxter pointed at the page again. “He wanted people to know he’d signed that order. He was proud of signing that order, maybe the last thing he was truly proud of.”
“Who else did you take this to?” Dorn asked, dropping the page on the desk.
“A man who is a recognized expert on constitutional law as well as on the current Supreme Court justices as individuals. He knows them all very well, and he knows how they would react to something like this.”
“And?”
Baxter took a deep breath. He knew how Dorn was going to react, and he wasn’t looking forward to it now that the man was feeling like himself again. “And we need to get the other original of Executive Order 1973 One-E. Only then will we feel completely confident of our ability to crush Red Cell Seven,” he said, glancing at his watch.
He had a meeting he had to get to, and he didn’t want to hang around here. He could see Dorn already starting to boil over.
BILL HUNG up the landline in his home office. It was the third time he’d tried to reach Nancy Carlson, but the ring had just gone on and on. She was a sweet woman, and he hoped she hadn’t gotten caught up in all of this. But it made sense that she would. She was the only person Roger had ever completely trusted. He hoped like hell she hadn’t paid the ultimate price just for being a good wife.
CHAPTER 31
FIVE-THIRTY A.M. and bitter cold in Manassas, Virginia. During the last few hours another Arctic blast had invaded the Lower Forty-Eight from Canada on the wings of an icy northwest wind. The mercury was plummeting in the Mid-Atlantic.
So far, the three men had been waiting thirty minutes for their fourth team member, and Troy was tempted to go in without him. They had to take advantage of the darkness cover going in—and coming out. If they waited much longer, they’d be risking a dawn exit from the townhouse, which was completely unacceptable.
Finally, Troy spotted headlights coming toward them. Relief and anger filtered through him as the twin beams got bigger and brighter. “You’re late,” he muttered as Travers came to a quick stop and climbed out of the Jeep. It was the first time since he’d met the major that there’d been a problem. But this was a big one. As far as Troy was concerned, you always posted on time in RCS—no excuses. “What the hell?”
“Decus septum,” Travers said, aggravated that Troy had omitted the greeting.
“And protect the peak, but look, I—”
“Hey, I hit traffic.”
“At this hour?”
“Come on, it’s DC. Anytime, anywhere, pal. You know that.” Travers gestured at the cluster of townhomes closest to them. “Which one is it?”
“It’s not in this area. It’s two clusters down.” Troy pointed farther along the lane. “I wanted no chance of them spotting us early.”
“Two entrances to the place?”
“Yeah, front door and back terrace.”
“Floors?”
“Three.”
“Do we know how many people are in there?”
“Four. Gadanz, the woman he lives with, and their two kids. I have no reason to believe anyone else is inside the home. I’ve had the place watched since five p.m. yesterday, and no one’s gone in or out since Gadanz got home at seven o’clock last night.”
Travers reached back into the Jeep for a pistol that was hidden beneath the driver’s seat. They were all carrying the standard Heckler & Koch MP5s tonight, but he was bringing his Colt .357, too. “You say kids are in there?” he called softly over his shoulder.
“They’re twelve and nine, and they’re both girls. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“But I assume we’re operating under normal procedures,” Travers said in a low voice as the four men huddled close together so they could all hear. “Anybody sees us, we take them out, right?”
“We’ve all got our ski masks with us. It won’t be a problem.” Troy glanced at the other two men. “Make sure you keep those things on,” he said, gesturing at the masks dangling from their belts. “Don’t let anyone rip them off.”
They nodded.
“Still…” Travers said deliberately.
“It’s a family in a townhouse,” Troy replied. “It’s not like we’re storming an embassy that’s been taken over by hostiles.”
“And these guys are my family.” Travers gestured at the other two men. He’d recruited them quickly for this morning’s mission from inside the Interrogation Division. They were Agents Potomac and Shenandoah, as far as Troy knew. “I can’t take any chances.”
“It won’t come anywhere near that,” Troy said confidently. “We’re grabbing Gadanz, and then we’re getting out. We shouldn’t be inside for more than five minutes. If we have to secure the other three, we will. Then we’ll call the cops after we’re gone, to set them free again.”
Travers nodded at Potomac and Shenandoah, indicating that they should move off a few paces. When they had, he leaned close to Troy so they couldn’t hear what he was about to say. “You’re not easing up, are you?” he whispered. “You’ve got to stay tough.”
“What are you talking about?” Troy demanded.
“I don’t want to jump bad on you, pal. God knows, you saved my ass in North Carolina the other night.”
“Say what’s on your mind.”
“You’ve got a little boy up north. I saw you with him. I saw how much you love him. I don’t want that getting in the way of what might happen in there,” Travers said, nodding down the lane. “Or any other place in the future, for your sake and anybody with you. We gotta stick to procedure. Anybody sees us, and they do not greet the morning light, no matter who they are or how young they are. We clear on that?”
“Major, I—”
“I’ve seen this before. I’ve seen guys in RCS back off the edge just a little because they get compassionate when they have kids, sometimes even when they just get married. Something happens when they see that baby or they tie the knot, and they lose our religion. And just a little loss can be plenty. It doesn’t happen often, but it does. And when it does, it’s a huge risk. That’s why Carlson didn’t want married guys, especially not fathers, in the cell. We are not in the business of being compassionate. Do you understand me, Captain?”
Troy stared at Travers for several moments, then finally nodded. “Don’t worry about me, Major. Do you understand me?”
Travers grinned and patted Troy on the shoulder, then waved the other men back in. “Okay, tonight I’m Agent Wal
ker.” He pointed at the other two. “They are—”
“I know, I know,” Troy interrupted, “Shenandoah and Potomac.”
“And you’ll be Agent Smirnoff.”
It was Troy’s turn to grin. Travers had told him that Harry Boyd had always been Agent Smirnoff in these situations, and Troy understood that Travers was sending a big compliment his way. “Okay.”
For several minutes the four men went over the plan. Troy and Travers would enter the townhouse together through the terrace entrance while Shenandoah and Potomac would cover the front door and cut off that escape route from the shadows until Troy or Travers let them in.
When they were all clear on their orders, the four men checked and rechecked their weapons. Then they donned their ski masks and headed through the darkness toward the target location.
“You get all your errands taken care of?” Troy whispered as they hustled along. Travers hadn’t been at all forthcoming about where he was going before meeting back up with Troy.
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” He pointed ahead as they jogged. “Any dogs?”
“No.”
“Good. I hate it when I’ve gotta deal with dogs.”
“I DON’T know why you are so hating me. It must be because I am a—”
“You’re part of a group that’s attacking the United States,” Maddux cut in, anticipating the card his victim was about to play. “This morning has nothing to do with what religion you practice. But you’re right about one thing. I do hate you. Anyone messes with my country and they go on my hate list.”
“I am not part of any group doing that,” Kaashif replied, moaning when he strained at the chains stretched tightly across his bare back and legs, securing him to the cinder-block wall so he could barely move. A muffled sob escaped his lips as the first tear rolled down one cheek. “I am a high school senior.”
“That’s your cover, terrorist-boy. It’s a pretty good one, too. I’ll give you that. And stop crying. I’m not buying it. Besides, even if you really are in high school, you should be a man about this. You chose this path.”
“I chose nothing. I should be taking a chemistry test today,” Kaashif said through his tears.
“Don’t give me that crap,” Maddux snapped as he lit a cigarette. “School’s out for the holidays. Don’t insult my intelligence.”
Kaashif glanced over his shoulder fearfully as Maddux took a long drag on the cancer stick, then moved his way. “I just want to go home, sir. Please let me go home to Philadelphia to my mother and father.”
“I’ll be happy to let you go home just as soon as you’ve finished answering all my questions.”
“But I do not know anything about what you asked me before. I swear I do not.”
Maddux chuckled. “Well, we’re about to find out for sure now,” he said as he pressed the hot end of the cigarette to the skin of Kaashif’s bare shoulder…and the screaming began.
JACOB GADANZ headed into Elaina’s room first. She was the easy one to awaken. As he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, he could see in the dim light that her eyes were already open and glistening. She was like him, a very light sleeper. In fact, she was like him in a lot of ways.
As he rose back up, it struck him for the first time that perhaps he didn’t appreciate her as much as he should, and he vowed to do better at that. He’d have plenty of time, too. It wasn’t as if he was going to be working anytime soon. That would be far too risky, especially early on. Besides, they should be able to stretch two million dollars a long way. It should provide them a respectable runway and the chance to settle into their new surroundings with their new names.
He’d moved the money yesterday afternoon. It was hidden and safe but still available. The only good thing about what he’d done for Daniel and Kaashif was that he’d become an expert at cleansing cash.
“Morning, Papa.”
“Good morning, angel.”
“So, where are we going?” Elaina asked as she slowly sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.
“It’s a surprise,” Gadanz answered. He’d told the girls last night that they would all be taking a long trip today. But that was all he’d said; there were no details even though they’d both tried hard to have him say more. “A big surprise.” Fortunately, this escape was timed perfectly with the beginning of their holiday from school, so they seemed unsuspecting and excited about what was happening. They believed this was the start of a family vacation. He could ease them gently into the realization that the move was permanent, and he didn’t have to explain anything today. “And I want you to help your sister this morning with everything, okay? We have to get going quickly.”
“Why, Papa?”
“So we get where we’re going faster,” Gadanz called back with a laugh as he headed out of her room and into Sophie’s, trying to make light of everything. “Good morning, Sophie,” he said loudly, “wake up, honey.” She was on her side, turned away from the door, which was strange. She’d always slept on her stomach as far back as he could remember. A faint alarm went off in the back of his head as he reached out and shook her shoulder gently. “Sophie, wake—”
“I’m awake, Papa!” she shouted, turning over quickly and jumping up on the mattress with a big smile.
His heart nearly exploded as she leapt from the bed into his arms. “God, you scared me,” he murmured as he grabbed her and held her tight.
“I’m excited, Papa. I couldn’t sleep, I was so excited.”
Now he felt terrible. For not telling them where they were going and how permanent it was; for yielding to the temptations Daniel had plied him with in Florida; for putting his family in this situation to begin with. But he’d needed that money Daniel had staked him with to start the company. Unfortunately, from that moment on he’d been in his brother’s debt—which was a bad place to be, even if you were Daniel’s brother. It hadn’t seemed so bad at the time, but down deep he’d figured this day would come sooner or later.
“Tell me where we’re going, Daddy.”
“It’s a surprise, a big surprise.”
As she hugged him again, he thought he heard something downstairs. It had to be Sasha starting breakfast. But he could have sworn she was still in the bathroom, which was off their bedroom on this upper floor.
KAASHIF WAS strong and committed to the cause, but not as strong and committed as Imelda had been. Not even close. As Maddux thought back on his interrogation career, he marveled once more at Imelda’s fortitude and thought again about how it would have been good to have her on their side.
“I think I know what your vulnerability is, Kaashif.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Kaashif asked respectfully as he continued to sob. “Please let me go.”
“I think you’re just like me. I think you hate small, confining places.” The moment the young man hesitated, Maddux knew he’d broken through the veneer. “You’re claustrophobic, aren’t you?”
“I do not even know what that word means.”
Maddux laughed harshly as he lifted the wooden box off the floor. “You’re not a very good liar, Kaashif.” The box was hinged in the middle of the front with a hole for the neck in the bottom. It would fit snugly around Kaashif’s head and, once closed, very accurately replicate the feeling of being buried alive in total darkness. Maddux knew only too well how hideous that feeling was. It was his only vulnerability, too.
As Maddux began to fit the box around Kaashif’s head, the young man began to struggle violently.
Maddux laughed again, louder. “I got it, didn’t I, you little bastard?”
“Don’t do this!” Kaashif shouted, moving his head about as fast and furiously as he could. “Please, no, no, no!” But he could only resist for so long.
As Maddux snapped the latches at the back of the box tightly shut, Kaashif began to scream much more desperately than he had from any of the five cig
arette burns on his shoulders. “Now, tell me what I want to know.”
The muffled, panic-stricken screams went on and on until finally Maddux realized he was only seconds away from all the answers he sought.
“YOU’RE NOT touching her,” Troy said firmly as he stood in front of Elaina, who was lying in one corner of the bedroom floor, hog-tied and crying into the gag that had been shoved roughly into her mouth. “I mean it, Agent Walker.” He’d been afraid of this. If only they hadn’t talked about it beforehand, it never would have happened. He’d always been suspicious like that, and he knew how irrational it sounded. But things always seemed to work out more often when he was. “I’m serious.”
“Get out of my way,” Travers ordered gruffly as he moved farther into the room, pistol drawn. “She has to die. We all agreed on this before we came in here.”
Agent Shenandoah stood by the door clutching his MP5, clearly agitated. His black ski mask lay crumpled on the floor beside Elaina.
“Where are the others?” Troy demanded as he brought the barrel of his MP5 up at Travers. Troy had come to respect Travers as much as he could in the short time they’d known each other, and he was not a naturally trusting young man. But he was learning that Travers had a short temper. And he was not a negotiator. “Where are Gadanz, the woman, and the other little girl?”
“They’re tied up in the master bedroom,” Travers answered, raising one eyebrow as he glanced at the gun barrel. “Agent Potomac is watching them.”
“What happened in here?” Troy demanded, gesturing at Agent Shenandoah.
“She was hiding behind the door when I came in,” he answered angrily. “She tried to run, but I caught her. She tore my ski mask off before I could do anything about it. This sucks, but it’s not my fault.”
Debatable, Troy figured, but they didn’t have time to argue about it. He glanced at the nightstand and the cell phone on top of it. “Did you—”
“She didn’t make any outbound calls. I checked. Not since last night, anyway.”