by David Archer
"I'm not sure yet, but it will have to be something big enough to expose him, expose what he's been doing. That's a necessity. Considering that he's wanting me so badly, I'm thinking we might have to use me as bait, lure him into a trap of some sort."
"All right, then," Harry said, "let me see what I can do. I'm going to suggest that the two of you might want to head towards DC. That's where Chandler is based, so any action we take will have to happen there. How about it, Sam? You up for a road trip?"
Sam grinned. "Hey," he said, "whatever my country needs me to do."
7
They decided to wait until dark, so that not even Sam's neighbors would see them leave together, so by the time they decided to take off, it was nearly eight PM. Long's car was stashed down the alley from Sam's house, and he went to get his clothes and things from it while Sam packed a bag of his own, slipping his Glock and its holster onto his belt, and then they tossed their things into the space behind the seat in the Corvette, climbed in and headed out of the city. Sam called Indie to tell her what was going on.
“So, wait a minute,” she said. “You're saying that you and Long are taking the problem to Washington? Then, why am I hiding out here at the cabin? I thought Long was the guy we were hiding from?”
“He was, initially, but things seem to be changing. I've had an education on politics today that would blow your mind, and has certainly blown mine. Turns out there are things I never knew about how the country works, and they're coming home to bite me in the ass, now.”
“So where does that leave us, then? Do we go home, or stay in hiding?”
“For right now,” Sam said, “I think I want you to stay put at the cabin. This thing is crazy, Babe, and it's likely to get even crazier before it's over. Keep your phone on and I'll keep in touch, but I think I'd rather know you were safe there, at least for now.”
Indie sighed into the phone, and Sam could visualize her face as she did so. Her eyes would be half closed, her lips partly open, as she let all the frustration of not getting her own way slide out of her. She never let herself get mad at him over these things, thank goodness. “Fine,” she said, and he detected just a hint of a pout in her voice. “But let me know as soon as I can go home, okay? Kenzie just got into school, and I don't like pulling her right back out like this.”
“You got it, babe. Just take care of yourselves, okay?”
“Yeah, and you do the same. And tell Long that if anything happens to you, he isn’t bad enough to keep me from coming after him.”
Sam laughed. “I will,” he said, crossing his fingers. “I love you!” He ended the call on that note, before she could find another way to keep him on the line.
“Sounds like you've got a good woman,” Long said, and Sam nodded.
“The best,” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without her, now. She and our daughter are what make life worth living.”
Long looked at him for a moment, just watching Sam drive. “I didn't want to run out on my family,” he said suddenly. “It wasn't like that, not even a little bit. I wanted to come home, I wanted to be there when my little girl took her first steps, when she started talking, when she started school—it wasn't by choice that I missed all those things, it was to protect them.”
Sam glanced over at him. "Someone threatened your family?"
Long nodded. "I wasn't as lucky as you," he said. "I didn't have someone like Harry Winslow to give me direction, or even to give me orders. I had a handler, someone who simply made sure I knew who to kill and when to kill. They sent me into South Vietnam with orders to kill specific targets, VC officers and soldiers who were known to cause problems for us over there. When I objected, it was made very clear to me that I had not just enlisted, I had sold my soul. If I so much as hinted that I didn't want to follow orders, someone explained very clearly to me just what could happen to my wife and child. That's why I don't want to get close to Joellyn now, because if I do, then she becomes something that can be used against me. When you live on this side of the darkness, you can't afford anything that can be used to sway you one way or another."
"So, it's like they say in the spy novels? You can't have any kind of relationship that lasts more than a few hours?"
Long laughed. "More than a couple of hours is probably too long. I gave up even thinking about women long ago, just because if I liked one, she became a liability. That's no way to live."
Sam thought about it. "When I first met your daughter, I wondered what kind of man you could've been, that didn't come home when you could. Of course, I only heard the official story, that you had been captured and then rescued. Now, well, I guess I can understand things a little better. And it's not that I think you need my understanding, I simply wanted to understand it for myself. I don't know how I would have survived, had I been in your shoes. I can't imagine not being able to come home and see my wife and child, just can't imagine it."
Long waggled a hand in the air in front of himself. "No one ever knows what they'll do in a particular situation," he said. "If anyone had ever told me that I would end up like this, back when I was in high school, I would have said they were nuts. I never would have believed that I could be a killer; heck, I rarely even went fishing because I hated killing and cleaning the fish. When I went hunting with my buddies, I was the guy who always missed my shot."
"Then how in the world did you get here? What kind of training could do this to a man?"
"It wasn't so much training, as survival. When I made it through basic, and was sent off to sniper school because I was a very good shot, it suddenly dawned on me that when I got out of training, there would be people trying to kill me, and the only hope I had of keeping them from it was to kill them first. Once I got that through my thick head, it wasn't all that difficult to think of them as targets rather than as human beings. Just like in basic training, targets fall down when you shoot them. By the time I had racked up a half-dozen kills, it didn't matter to me anymore whether they were targets made of plastic or of flesh."
Sam shook his head as he guided the car onto Interstate 70. "Man, I thought I had it rough when I stumbled into all of this national security stuff. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you. Some of the things we found online—can I ask questions, or would you have to kill me if you answer?”
Long chuckled at that. “There's some things I could tell you that would require me to make sure you couldn't ever repeat them, but I like you, so I won't share those things. Go ahead, but be warned—you may not like the answers.”
Sam nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, “because you probably won't like the questions. Let's start with the Iran Hostage crisis. According to one file we found, you were somewhere in Tehran when it went down. What were you doing there?”
“I was there as a consultant to Crandall Oil,” Long said. “Now, if you understood the world I live in, you'd know that being a consultant means I was there to eliminate certain opposition to Crandall's efforts at securing oil leases they wanted from the de facto Iranian government. Remember that the Shah had been deposed and was gone, and the new government going into place was something of a theocracy, or at least it was planned to be. Some of the so-called officials that were suddenly occupying offices in that government were more interested in personal gain than in serving their country, and wanted ever bigger and better bribes from Crandall. Trouble was, no matter how well or how much the company paid off, the officials wanted more. Someone in the area of the CIA that handled me decided that we needed to give them the idea that cooperation was the way to get what they wanted, and that demanding more money was the way to get dead. It was purely coincidental, but you've heard about the six diplomats who escaped? The ones they snuck out of there as part of a phony film crew? Well, as the students were flooding into the embassy, two different groups walked away, trying to escape. The idea was for them to go to the British Embassy, but they didn't make it. One of them was rounded up by students and forced to go back to the to the US Embassy
, but the other almost got through. The trouble was that the British Embassy was also surrounded by protesters, so they couldn't get inside. One of them, Bob Anders, lived not too far away and decided he wanted to take his group to his house, to try to hide there. Well, as I said, it was purely coincidental, but when he decided to detour to his place, I happened to be standing on the corner, and he spotted me. He knew who I was, and why I was there, so he asked me to help them get to his house. I did, and then went on about my own business, and never knew that they were stuck there. They ended up hiding with the Canadian ambassador and some of his staff for almost three months. Of course, by that time, I was long gone."
Sam glanced over at him. "This is weird," he said. "What you're talking about, to me, is history; to you, it's memories, something you lived through. That's amazing to me."
"Yeah, well, that's life."
"You were talking earlier about that former First Lady who became Secretary of State. I noticed that you were also at Benghazi when that Embassy was attacked. Were you connected to that in some way?"
"No, though I think I should've been. I was there on a simple elimination job, taking out a foreign agent who was causing us some troubles. I was in a different part of the city, and the whole thing was over before I even knew what was happening. If I had known, I might have been able to get there and help."
Sam drove in silence for a while, and they passed into Kansas. It wasn't late in the day, and Sam wanted to make time while he could. There wasn't a lot of traffic on their side of the highway, and the Corvette was cruising along beautifully.
“This is a nice car,” Long said after a half hour of quiet. “I'll bet you built it yourself?”
“Pretty much,” Sam said. “I bought it at a police auction, after it was seized in a drug raid. She'd suffered some damage, and needed a lot of TLC to get her back to top shape. When I got shot and retired from the force, she's what kept me going for a while, there. I needed something to help me focus, y'know, keep me thinking of myself as alive and well. The Vette did the trick.”
“She's sweet. Cars are another thing I never got to hold on to. In my life, anything that becomes a habit is something that can be used to track you down, and if it's any kind of addiction, even the way a hobby can be addicting, then it's another liability. Car like this, an enemy might use it as a threat to hold over your head. I can't have anything I'm not prepared to let go of in an instant.”
Sam smiled. “I'm glad I don't live in your world,” he said. “I like my car, I like her a lot.”
“Yeah, I'm sure you do. I'd like her, too, if I could and she was mine.”
The silence settled back in, and they rode along without speaking for a couple of hours, then Sam announced a need to stop and stretch his legs. Long nodded, and agreed that he could use a short break himself, so they pulled off at a gas station at the next exit. Sam went into the bathroom, while Long stood out in the store and watched the traffic that came in and out, and then Sam kept watch while Long made himself more comfortable. They each grabbed a snack and a soft drink, then got back into the car and headed out again.
“I haven't been to DC in years,” Sam said, “not since I was there in college. Has it changed a lot in the past decade?”
Long looked at him. “You're asking me? Do you think I hang out there? This will be my second trip to that city; the first was when I was called in to meet some people who needed information I happened to have, back in Reagan's day. I didn't leave anything there I cared about, and wouldn't be going there now if it weren't for the need to make sure Chandler and his cronies get what's coming to them.”
Sam smiled. “Great. We're on our way to what may be a trap, and neither one of us knows the lay of the land. Sounds like a great setup for success, doesn't it?”
Long shrugged. “One of the things I've learned is that there isn't any formula for success. You either accomplish your mission or you don't, and if you don't, then all you can do is try to get out alive. So far, I've been lucky on that score.”
"Got any idea what we should do when we get there? What our first real move should be? Maybe some sort of a hint so I don't walk in and blow whatever it is we're trying to do?"
"Not even a glimmer," Long said. "On the other hand, I suspect we'll know exactly what to do by the time we arrive. Unless your pal Harry is doing something extraordinary in covering for us, there's very little doubt in my mind that the people who want to shut me up are fully aware that we're coming that direction. That being the case, I think our first move will be pretty obvious by the time we get there."
Sam shook his head. "So, if somebody is shooting at us when we get there, then it's pretty obvious we should check back, right? I think I could've figured that one out on my own."
"Yeah, probably," Long said with a laugh. "That one shouldn't be too hard for anybody to figure out, but then, I have known a few who weren't that bright. Maybe someday I can tell you a few stories."
"Nah, I'm good," Sam said. "All I want to do is get through this one, and get back to my family."
It was nearly seven PM by the time they stopped again, to grab a bite to eat and gas up. Sam gave Indie a call as they got back on the road and talked with her for a few minutes, saying goodnight to Kenzie even though he knew they wouldn't get her into bed before ten. When he finished that call, he decided to try Harry again.
"Sam, I do believe we have opened a can of worms," the old man said as he answered. "It seems that we are not the only ones paying close attention to Mr. Glenn, and some of the things he's been doing in the last few months. Just by mentioning his name, I have set off a bit of a storm up there, and it seems that Chandler and others are doing all they can to distance themselves from him quickly."
Sam had the phone on speaker, and Long was nodding. Sam said, "Ken, here, doesn't seem surprised. Are you?"
"Not particularly," Harry said, "but things are definitely happening more quickly than I had anticipated. Glenn is out of the country, and there have been orders sent out to have him return immediately. Now, whether he will obey those orders or not remains to be seen. All I'm trying to do is keep an eye on the situation so that I can advise you on who to contact when you arrive."
"And we appreciate it," said Long. "There has to be someone up there who stands to gain by seeing Chandler come down. At the very least, we need someone who can see the big picture and is willing to step up to the plate to help us stop this faction from succeeding in their goals."
"Yes, that's how I see it, too," Harry said. "At the moment, I'm testing all of my contacts and trying to see which of them would be best for you gentlemen. I don't want anyone knowing that the two of you are on this trip until we're actually ready to make a move."
"Good. That's how I want it, also. The more surprise we have on our side, the better our chances of success and survival. Remember, this isn't a strike mission; we're not out to draw blood or kill anyone, we're simply trying to shed light on something that wants to stay hidden in the darkness."
“Yes, we know,” Harry said, and Sam agreed. “That's why I want the proper ally for you as soon as you get there. You, Mr. Long, are expendable; you've known that your entire professional life, just as I have. Sam is not, or at least, we want to keep him alive and healthy for as long as we possibly can. And just so you know, that's not entirely because I'm afraid of what his wife would do to me if he got hurt, but I'll confess that it's in there.”
Sam laughed. “It'd better be,” he said. “I know Indie, and it's definitely one of the things you need to keep in the forefront of your thoughts.”
“Yes, I'm sure it is. I'll let you know if I learn anything else, boys, but it's time for this old man to have a bite to eat.” The line went dead.
Long looked at Sam. “He's a man of few words, isn't he?”
“Only ‘til you get to know him, and then it's hard to get him to shut up. But if Harry says he's got your back, then you can count on him. The first time I met him, he was holding my wife—she was j
ust an employee at the time—as a hostage to get me to keep an appointment to meet with him, but as soon as we got together, he basically let me make him my prisoner so that I'd have reason to listen to the story he wanted to tell me.”
“Then, you probably got to hear all about his time with the SEALs and on the Al Qaeda desk, right? Those are true, but don't believe him if he tries to say he wasn't a killer; Harry Winslow has a confirmed kill list that no one has matched since his days in the field.”
“Yeah, I know he's been there,” Sam said. “All he'll say about it is that he's done what had to be done, and it wasn't always nice, but it isn't hard to read between the lines. Harry's a good man, but he's a hard man, too.”
“True. Right now, to be perfectly honest, I'm kind of glad he's willing to go with us on this. With his support, it's possible we can pull it off and manage to keep the USA intact a few years longer.”
Sam turned to look at him. “A few years longer? Then you expect globalism to come sooner or later, now matter what we do?”
“It's coming, there's no doubt about that. I'm not going to delude myself into thinking I can stop it, but I'm going to do all I can to delay it. I don’t want to see it in my lifetime.”
Sam shrugged. “I'm sure none of us do, but if it's inevitable...”
Long looked over at him. “You go to church, Sam?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “We just started, actually, but I've gone to church off and on since I was a kid.”
“Did you know that every government on earth studies Bible prophecy? That's because, over the past three thousand years or so, there have literally been hundreds of Biblical Prophecies that have come true, and so clearly have they come true that in some cases, it was possible to see it coming true as it happened. The prophet Daniel, for example, foretold a King of Macedonia that would conquer Persia, and set Jerusalem free from Persian dominion, and when Alexander the Great was shown this prophecy, he was so amazed at how accurately it described him and his kingdom that he went into the Jewish temple and made a sacrifice to the Jewish God, then left Jerusalem undisturbed. He went on to conquer the Persian Empire, just as Daniel had predicted.”