Trust But Verify

by Karna Small Bodman

  This time it was a huge chunk.

  This could blow the pilings to dust.

  He searched for the trigger mechanism. It would be about the size of a fat cigar. He finally felt it and yanked it out. Was that the only one? He checked his device again as he stood up and walked to another girder.

  As he examined the rest of the base, he realized that the explosive he had just disarmed had been placed in the most easily accessible spot on the base. The remaining legs of the tower were thickly wrapped with underbrush, bushes, and other coverings.

  Suddenly, the read-out dropped to .70. That meant there could still be something nearby. He felt he had covered the base as best he could. Now he scanned the upper girders. Nothing up there. No place to hide anything.

  What the hell is that?

  He moved around to get a better view. It looked like it might be a weather monitor. He aimed the detector in its direction and the read-out jumped to .85.

  Another one?

  He didn’t know what to do. It was too high to reach without a ladder, and he had no time to search for something to stand on. He glanced toward the restaurant some distance away. The tram car was still wending its way over a final deep gorge, but it was getting closer. He didn’t have time to run to the restaurant manager or the staff and explain the threat, which would cause a panic. What could he do about this new read-out?

  Had Dom and the other agents confiscated enough cell phones to keep the culprits, whoever they were, from detonating whatever might be on that tower ledge? His heart was pounding as he stared up at the weather monitor and swore out loud.

  FORTY-FIVE

  THURSDAY NOON;

  TETON VILLAGE, WYOMING

  “THE CABLE CAR IS ALMOST in the perfect spot,” Lubov said, looking through a pair of binoculars from his perch on the passenger seat of their car. They were parked on the exit road in Teton Village. They had checked out of their hotel, stowed their luggage in the trunk, rechecked the conference schedule—though they practically had it memorized by now—and told Vadim and Maksim to do the same.

  As soon as the explosives went off, they would all drive out of the village, follow the road toward Wilson, turn right, and then head over the pass to the Idaho Falls FBO where a jet was already waiting. Lubov handed the binoculars to Stas and pulled out his cell phone.

  “Let me see,” Stas said, looking through the binoculars. “Some of those security people are still on the platform. Looks like they’re arguing or something. Idiots. They’re still taking pictures of the tourists, though. Remember that one guy who got close a while ago? They were scanning all the cars around here. I think he might have even taken a picture of us.”

  “Who cares?” Lubov said. “They don’t know us, and we don’t look like we’re doing anything. We’re just taking in the view. Besides, no one has seen us with cell phones. That’s why we hid them until now.” He punched in a series of numbers. “Ready?” he turned to Stas with a smile.

  Stas nodded, and Lubov hit the connect button. They heard it ring. And ring.

  After a minute, Stas yelled, “What the hell happened?” He refocused the binoculars on the tower. “Fuck! There’s someone up there. I knew I saw someone. He’s getting up, but I can’t see what he’s doing.”

  “The real question is, what the hell did you do?” Lubov demanded. “You placed the stuff at the bottom of the tower. Did you screw up the trigger?”

  “I don’t know,” Stas shouted. “I placed it perfectly at the base. And I covered it up with rocks. You saw that.”

  “Wait,” Lubov said. “Maybe I dialed wrong.” He re-entered the prescribed set of numbers. His cell rang again. But again, there was no answer. No connection.

  “Do you think those security people killed cell phone service here in the village?” Stas asked.

  “They could have. Those people can do anything they want. I’m gonna try another number, just to see.”

  “What other number? You can’t call Vadim. Not yet.”

  “No, I’m calling the hotel. I just want to see if it goes through.”

  “Well, hurry up,” Stas said.

  Lubov hit some numbers and mumbled, “If we don’t get the tower, don’t freak out. I set all those bricks around the restaurant, and I know I did my job right.” He put the cell on speaker as it began to ring.

  “Teton Mountain Lodge. How may I direct your call?” a chipper voice answered.

  Lubov quickly hit the end button. “Damn. Cell’s still working. Something’s wrong.”

  Stas trained the binoculars on the tram again. “They’ve only got a minute or two to get to the top. Quick, try the number for the weather station.”

  “Give me a second. I want to make sure I have the right number for that trigger.” He looked down at a list he had placed in the cup holder, studied it for a minute, nodded, and grabbed his cell again. “This time it’ll go through. Now watch. That cable car is gonna look like it’s in the middle of a Chinese New Year.”

  FORTY-SIX

  THURSDAY NOON;

  RENDEZVOUS MOUNTAIN

  AS BRETT STARED UP AT the weather monitor, he suddenly remembered the miniature bomb pre-emptor in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly studied it, remembering what Dom had said about activating it. Pull the pin, toss the thing into a suspicious area, and let its electrons disrupt communication channels and render any explosive immune to a charge. He also remembered it had never been tested.

  Left with no other alternative, Brett stood back, pulled the pin, and lobbed the BPE toward the box. It smacked the edge, bounced off, hit the ground, and rolled away.

  Brett cursed and scrambled after it.

  I already pulled the pin. How long will it work?

  He had no idea. He looked back up at the weather box with renewed determination. Brett stepped back and took careful aim once again. This time, he threw with an underhand motion and watched it land.

  It seemed like the BPE had actually settled right on top of the box. It was just sitting there. He heaved a sigh of relief and tried to slow his breathing. He turned around and saw that the tram had just arrived. The Denver agents were the first to exit the car and fan out. The delegates began to spill out while Brett took one last walk around the base of the tower.

  Safe, I think. Safe, I pray.

  He saw Samantha step out along with Secretary Pickering and a few others. They hadn’t been warned. What would have been the point except to cause massive hysteria on board a moving tram car? His first impulse was to rush over and tell them everything. But he thought for a second and decided he shouldn’t do that.

  Brett felt confident that the restaurant was completely disarmed and Samantha, along with all the delegates, would be safe. For now. She had to give her big speech, and she must have fought pretty hard to keep her equilibrium on the trek up the mountain. He fought the urge to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. Later. He’d do that later.

  Once she was inside the restaurant door, he walked over to a group of Denver agents. “I’m sure you’ll want to see the evidence,” Brett said.

  “Show us everything,” one demanded. “Chief reported that you found explosives. We had to keep it quiet on the tram, or we would have started a panic. I can’t believe this.”

  “Come over here first,” Brett said, leading the way to the tower.

  “Where the hell did this come from?” One of the agents said, examining the lump of C-4 surrounded by loose rocks at the base of the structure. “We scoured this place last night. We checked the tower. There were no piles of rocks, no indication that anybody had been near this area.”

  “See up there?” Brett pointed to the weather box. “Another big problem.”

  “What?” an agent asked, peering up.

  “I used a biologically based bomb sensor that reacted to something up there. I couldn’t climb up myself, so I threw a bomb pre-emptor on top of it.”

  “You threw it?” the agent asked, astonished. “How did it work?”<
br />
  “It’s new. Never been tested until now,” Brett said. “It uses electrons to disrupt cell signals. Very clever contraption. Shaped like a hand grenade. It’s sitting up there on top of the box. You’d better hurry up and disarm whatever explosive is up there. I have no idea how long the pre-emptor’s batteries will last.”

  “Shit, he’s right,” an agent said. He turned to one of his team members. “Boost me up.”

  While they tried to reach the box, Brett said to the others, “Let’s head over to the restaurant. I’ll show you the rest.”

  Brett led the way and carefully pointed out every location where explosives had been set. The Denver agents stared, argued, asked questions, and carefully examined each cache to be certain it was inert. They finally retreated to the side of the restaurant to radio their boss.

  After Brett completed the tour, he stepped away and contacted Dom. “Bomb squad ever show up? We need them to clear everything away.”

  “They’re here now,” Dom replied. “I’m sending them up. We closed the tram after Samantha and the others left. I got the operator to start it again, but only to send up the bomb guys.”

  “Do they have their retrieval sacks?”

  “Yes. Think you found everything?” Dom asked.

  “I sure as hell hope so. I’ve been showing the other agents all the handiwork. They freaked out. But what about you? Did you spot any suspects? Anything that could point us in the right direction? Our window of opportunity to find whoever did this is closing.”

  “I’m talking to local enforcement about roadblocks. They should be done setting them up soon. There aren’t that many roads out of town,” Dom said. “Find Pickering, and get him to work on closing the airport. If anyone involved left after trying to trigger those explosives, it will take them a while to drive to Jackson, get through security, and wait for a flight. Oh, and what about Trevor and the director?”

  “I’ll call D.C. in a few minutes,” Brett said breathlessly. “What about cell phones?”

  “We didn’t see anyone near the platform using a cell while the group went up. But there were a lot of cars in the lot and on the access roads. We tried to cover them, but they’re all over the place. Just like the tourists. We stopped a bunch of people before the tram went up, but anyone could have been sitting in a coffee shop or on a deck or in a parked car trying to use a trigger.”

  “We’ll wait for the bomb experts. They may be able to help us narrow our search for trigger sources. In the meantime, we’ll clear everything out and come down after the lunch. But first, I want to talk to Samantha and Pickering. He’s got to be informed about everything. And I want to update Trevor. He’ll want to notify the director and the president. If these explosives had detonated . . . I can’t even think about the fallout. We’ll have a ton of work to do on the evidence. I’ll go inside in a minute to find the Secretary.”

  “Treasury’s security people are going to lose it,” Dom said. “Then there’s the public. Jeez!”

  “You’re right,” Brett said. “We can’t keep a lid on this. But hang tight. I’m going to call Trevor right now. I’m sure he’ll want us to set up a command center with Denver. That is, if he trusts them after this debacle. We’ll have to analyze all the photos, cross-check with our databases, and see if we get any matches.”

  “On it,” Dom said and clicked off.

  Brett punched in Trevor’s private line.

  “That you, Brett? Recognized the number. What’s going on out there? I was just about to return an urgent call from the Denver office, but saw your call first.”

  Brett took a deep breath. “Denver is going ape-shit. I found some C-4 on the mountain. Planted all around the restaurant and even at the base of the tower.” He quickly explained the entire situation, his efforts to disarm the explosives, Dom’s work on the ground, the expected roadblocks, and his plan to ask Pickering to handle the airport shutdown. For once, Trevor was silent, though Brett heard the man inhale and almost choke.

  When Brett finished his summary, his boss said, “Unbelievable. Damn glad I sent you out there. Could have been an international catastrophe. I’ve got to get this to the director. He’ll take it to the White House. You coordinate with Pickering. He’s senior on site. You said the bomb squad is coming up to deal with the C-4?”

  “Yes. On their way. And Dom is handling the local sheriff.”

  “As for Denver,” Trevor said, “that office will be in a shambles for weeks picking up the pieces. But I’m sure they’ll fall all over themselves to help search for the suspects. As for you, good job, Keating. Actually, make that an excellent job. Keep me posted.” Trevor clicked off.

  Brett shook his head and pondered the rare compliment as he headed inside the restaurant.

  * * *

  “Ladies and gentlemen, friends and colleagues, as I’ve outlined today, the cost of illegal money transfers is monumental, and it impacts our legitimate private and government operations, to say nothing of the continuing threat to our collective societies posed by illicit arms sales, drug and human trafficking, and the further development and proliferation of WMD,” Samantha said, making her final points. “So, we welcome your cooperation to track and shut down these accounts and these systems wherever they may be. Thank you for listening, and thank you in advance for working with us . . . for working together.”

  All the delegates stood up, and some called out, “Bravo!” Everyone took a drink and applauded. Alexander Tepanov was the first to rush up and try to hug her. She stood back and shook his hand instead.

  “You were marvelous, Miss Reid. I wish I had you on my staff in Moscow.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She smiled and turned to others who were crowding around, complimenting her, offering help, and suggesting the creation of working groups. She was detained for several minutes while others filed out and headed to the tram for the ride down.

  Brett was inside looking for Pickering. He heard Samantha’s final words and was amazed by her composure and the way she won over the delegates. He caught himself wondering if he could win her over. He pushed the idea out of his mind as he looked around for the Treasury Secretary. Spotting him, Brett moved across the room.

  “Excuse me, sir. Brett Keating. FBI. May I speak with you privately?”

  “Of course,” Phil Pickering said. “Come over here.” They headed to a corner, and Brett saw that Samantha was freeing herself from the crowd.

  “I believe Samantha should hear this too,” Brett said.

  The Secretary motioned to Samantha who grabbed her purse and approached them. “Great job,” the Secretary said. “You really got their attention. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  “I doubt that, but thanks,” Samantha said. She turned to Brett. “So great to see you again. Obviously, everything turned out to be just fine.”

  “Not really,” Brett said somberly. “I came up just before you all arrived, and I located six caches of C-4 ready to be triggered by cell phone calls.”

  “What?” Samantha gasped.

  “Are you sure?” Pickering asked severely.

  “I’ll show you. But first, agents on the ground are searching for the culprits. The sheriff is in the process of setting up roadblocks. Can you shut down the airport?”

  “Of course. Wait a minute.” Shaking off his initial shock, the secretary pulled out his cell, was quickly connected to the FAA, and gave the order. He pocketed his phone and turned to Brett. “They’ll handle Jackson. It’s a small airport. We’ll decide later how long to keep it closed. Now, about finding that C-4. You were alone? No other agents were with you?” Pickering asked.

  “Denver had scoured the area last night, and they were sure it was clear,” Brett explained. “I wanted to double-check, so I came up by myself.”

  “But how could someone plant C-4 without those other agents finding it?” Pickering asked.

  “That’s what we have to find out,” Brett said. “Looks to me like someone was up here and stayed up
here after everyone else left last night. I don’t know how they got back down, but they obviously meant to destroy this whole area. And everyone in it.”

  Samantha was listening carefully to every word. She grabbed Brett’s arm as if to steady herself. “You disarmed six packs of C-4 before we got up here? In such a short period of time? This is incredible,” she said in a weak voice.

  “I had some new detection equipment with me. The bomb squad will be here pretty soon. They have to get the material out of here and safely off the mountain. Come with me, and I’ll show it all to you.”

  Samantha began to shake. She couldn’t help herself. Six bombs ready to go off? Brett could have been killed. They all could have been killed. Once again, the man had saved her life and countless others. She still couldn’t breathe right. She reached over to a nearby table, grabbed a glass of water, and took a gulp. She held onto a chair and tried to take deep breaths.

  As the Secretary discussed the airport shutdown with Brett, her mind raced. Who in the world had planned to massacre so many people? And why? Turning to Pickering, she asked, “How long can you keep the airport closed? Word will get out pretty fast that there is something wrong.”

  “We’ll have to make a public statement but not until we have more facts. For now, they can blame it on a system failure. There are so many government and private planes; we can’t stop those from leaving. But we’ve shut down commercial traffic so that security people can check every single person scheduled to fly out of Jackson for the rest of the day,” the Treasury Secretary said.

  “And the sheriff will get the three main roads out of town covered,” Brett said. “Roadblocks are already going up. Of course, whoever is responsible for this may already be on their way out of town.”

  Secretary Pickering was on his cell again, consulting with his Chief of Security. Samantha couldn’t stop herself. She moved closer to Brett and put her arms around him. “You did it again,” she whispered. “You saved my life.”