by David Archer
"Yes," Sam said. "Where are they? Which direction from the memorial?"
"Okay, that camera is north east of the memorial itself, so — there's a lamppost just north of the memorial, maybe 50 yards from the structure. Can you see it from where you're at?"
"No, not at the moment, but I'm moving. Ken, move to the north end of the building; Indie sees what may be shooters watching us. They're by the lamppost north of the building. Okay, Babe, I see them. They're far enough away right now that I'm not too worried about them, and I can keep an eye on them from here. Look around and see if you see anything else."
Ken caught Sam's eye. "Sam," he said softly, so that it came through in the earpiece, "we have to take them out."
Sam covered the mouthpiece of his cell phone, and hissed, "No way, there's way too many innocent people around. Besides, if we start shooting, Chandler is going to run. Like you said, he's the important target. Besides, I got an idea." He picked the phone back up to his ear. "Hey, Babe? Can you call the Park Service police here and try to get them on those guys? If you could get the local cops to hassle them for just a few minutes, that would probably cover us."
"That I can," Indie said. "Mom!" Indie called out. "Mom, bring your cell phone. Sam needs your help, call this number and tell them that the two guys in trench coats that are standing by the lamp at the north end of the Lincoln Memorial just tried to rape you."
Sam listened with a grin as Indie's mother, Kim, called the Park Service police and put on an incredible act, hysterically demanding that the two men be arrested immediately. Indie gave him a whispered running account of the act her mother was putting on, and less than a minute later, one of the security golf carts was racing across the grounds towards that lamp. Two officers accosted the two men, and it was obvious that they were going to be occupied for a little while.
"That was great, Babe," Sam said. "Now, do me a favor and keep looking. If you see anyone else that looks suspicious, do whatever it takes to interfere with them the same way. And, Babe? Remember that I love you. I've gotta go." He hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket. "Two down," he said softly enough for it to go through the earpiece. "If she sees anymore, she'll do what she can."
"That's good," Ken whispered back. "Chandler is at two o'clock."
Sam looked in the general direction Ken indicated, and spotted a man wearing a red jacket and a green hat. He checked his position and made sure that he was still pulling off the look he was after, of a man watching another man he was holding prisoner. He kept one eye on Chandler as he approached, but the man stopped twenty yards away and watched them.
"Mr. Prichard," he called out. "I'd like to see your other hand, please."
"That hand's a little occupied," Sam said. He nodded his head toward Ken, who was standing there looking at Chandler as if shocked at seeing him appear there. "As you can see, I kept my end of the bargain. Are you going to keep yours?"
Chandler watched them both for a couple of minutes without saying a word, and Sam didn't push. There was something about the entire experience that was surreal, so strange that Sam wasn't sure if it was even truly happening. He simply waited, just to see what might happen next.
Some activity over towards the Vietnam Wall Memorial caught his eye, as two golf carts of security officers converged on a couple of men who seemed to be lurking behind it. Sam wasn't sure, but he thought it might have been the two they spotted earlier. If they weren't part of Chandler's crew, they wouldn't be hurt by a little delay, and if they were, the delay might help keep Sam and Ken alive. He sent a mental thanks off to Indie, and another one to God for bringing Indie into his life.
He turned his attention back to Chandler who was still watching him. His patience was growing thin, and he was sure Ken was getting pretty restless, as well.
"What's it going to be, Chandler?" he asked. "Do you want to go through with this or not?"
Chandler grinned at him, and then pulled away his windbreaker so that Sam could see the pistol on his belt. "Prichard, neither one of us is stupid. I'm not sure what it is you guys are up to, but one thing I'm sure of is that you're looking for a chance to put me down. Now, I'm not going to give you that chance, and if you go for it, things are going to get very, very ugly. Your friend there wouldn't hesitate to take a shot at me, but somehow I don't think you're quite up to that."
"Play him out," Sam heard whispered in his ear. He moved his own jacket so that Chandler could see the Glock in his hand, then smiled. "I might surprise you," he said, "but I already told you what I wanted. I want to go home, and live my life, without looking over my shoulder for you or your goons. If you can give me that, you can have this guy. Otherwise I'm going to walk away, and that means that all bets are off and you won't see me coming. Maybe you think I'm too much of an amateur to pull it off, but if you’ve read my file you'll find that I've already surprised a few people. I willing to surprise you, too, but it won't be very pleasant."
Chandler laughed. "Why, Mr. Prichard, you've surprised me already. You're actually standing here, face-to-face with me. Not too many people are willing to do that, knowing the things you know. Now, let me tell you how this is going to go. I've got people watching you right now, and while you may have delayed a few of them — and by the way, I'm really curious how you did that — there are three more you haven't spotted. Two of them have you in the sights of high-powered rifles even now, and the third is merely waiting for me to give him the word. He's another one you'd never see coming. So, as I was saying, let me tell you how this is going to go. Neither of you is going to take a shot at me, because you'd be dead before you managed to aim and squeeze the trigger. I'm not going to take Long with me, because I'm sure you've got something rigged up that he figures will give him the chance to kill me as we leave. I haven't gotten to where I am by being stupid, and I'm not going to start now. So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to wait until I’ve walked away, and then you and your friend are going to go and find a room. You're going to hole up there until you hear from me. When you do, I'll have something to offer you that you'll both find far too good to turn down. Oh, and just so you'll know I'm telling you the truth…" A bullet, from what was obviously a silenced, high-powered rifle, struck the dirt less than a foot away from Sam's feet. "That's just so you'll know that you don't have a chance of taking me out, right now. Fair enough? Like I said, go get a room and wait. I'll be in touch later today."
Chandler turned and began walking away, and Ken spun to look at Sam. "Take the shot," he whispered through the earpiece, but Sam shook his head.
"You saw that sniper shot," he whispered back. "We'd both be dead, and that would be the end of the mission. We'll play this his way, for now, and see what we can do to turn the tables when we get the chance. I don't see any other hope."
Ken stood there, staring at Chandler as he walked away, and Sam could tell that he was nearly in a rage, but there was no help for it. If they tried to take him at that moment, all they would accomplish is getting themselves killed. Sam knew that Ken would be angry, but he had to play it the way he felt best.
They stayed put until Chandler was well out of sight, and then Ken flipped his jacket up over his shoulder, showing Sam that he already had the cuffs off. They were in his hand, and he slipped them into his pocket.
"Well," he said. "I don't know what to say. We had him, he was right here. Sam, I know you're no coward, but you should've taken the shot. Yeah, we’d both be dead, but if you'd played it right he'd have gone down with us. I know you want to get home to your family, but Sam, taking him out is worth both our lives."
Sam nodded. "I understand that, Ken, I really do. He didn't walk away because I was afraid, he walked away because I didn't see any hope of getting a clean shot. The second my pistol came into view, my head would've exploded, and you would never have gotten the chance to make a move of your own. They'd have taken you out just to be safe. I had to make the call, so I made the best one I could. If you're pissed, so be it, but
it wasn't up to you at that moment, it was up to me. Now, come on; let's get back to the car and go find a room."
Ken shook his head, but he began walking along with Sam. "You know what? You are probably the only man in the world, right at this moment, who could get away with talking to me like that. Whether I like it or not, I still need you. The mission isn't over, and it's going to take both of us to complete it. Yeah, I'm pissed, but I'll get over it. Let's do what we got to do."
It took them half an hour to get back to the parking lot, and Sam was relieved to see that the Corvette was still there. It was, however, drawing a lot of attention, and he spent the next fifteen minutes answering the questions of the four young men who were standing around staring at it. Ken stood over out of sight during this time, his Colt forty-five back in his own belt, so that he could keep a close eye on the situation in case it turned out to be a setup.
Apparently it wasn't. All four of the young men insisted on getting a selfie with Sam and his Corvette. Ken laughed, and shook his head as he got into the car with Sam.
"Next time," he said, "remind me to make sure I pick the car we travel in!”
5
"What a lot of people don't realize is that one hacker can usually see what another hacker is doing," Indie said. "While I was hacking my way into the Lincoln Memorial security systems, I ran across a trail of another hacker who was doing the same thing. Now, this guy is good, but maybe he just wasn't as careful as he should've been, because he left a door open that Herman was able to get into."
Sam had her on speakerphone, and was holding the device out so that both he and Ken could hear what she was saying. "Okay," he said, "so what did you find out?"
"Well, that backdoor led right back into what I'm guessing is your Mr. Chandler's offices. Right now, Herman has a backdoor into the computers there, and it seems like most of them are pounding away on things related to Islamic countries. The user account of the main operator is the one that was doing the hacking, and he spotted Herman poking around inside his computers; now, most guys would have locked it down, tried to kick Herman out. Not this guy, though, he decided to start a conversation. He asked who Herman was, and of course Herman just relayed the message back to me."
"Indie," Sam said, "can this guy track you back to where you're at?"
Indie laughed. "Are you kidding? With this super satellite relay Internet system that Harry's got in his limousine, nobody could pinpoint a location on us. It's not possible. So, knowing that, I sent back and told him that Herman was a friend who wanted him to know that he was working for a very bad man. Here, let me read you off the whole conversation. By the way, his name is Stony. Check this out.
"Stony: well, hello there. Who might you be?
Herman: a friend you haven't met yet. A friend who wants you to know that you work for a very bad man.
Stony: is that so?
Herman: yes. The man you work for is trying to change the whole world so that he has the chance to rule it himself.
Stony: why should you care?
Herman: I don't believe anyone should play God. Do you?
Stony: what does that matter to me? If he rules the world, he'll still need me. Why shouldn't I go along?
Herman: read Revelation chapter 13. Your boss wants to be the Beast. Is that the side you want to be on?
Stony: and I saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns. I've read it. Many times.
Herman: and what are you going to do about it?
"Okay, then at that point he sent me this string of numbers, a time stamp. What that means is that he wants to talk again at a particular time. I ran the time stamp through a converter, and it comes out to a little after five this afternoon. I've kept the back door open, so that I can talk to him again then."
Sam felt a chill run down his spine. "Baby, this is making me nervous," he said. "Why would he want to talk to you again?"
"Well, I'm not sure, but it could be that he knows what his boss is up to and isn't happy about it. I mean, he knew the scriptural reference I threw at him; it's possible this guy is a Christian, or a Bible student, and not a bit in favor of his boss becoming the Antichrist."
"Or maybe," Sam said, "he's just fully aware of what his boss is doing, and likes the idea of being the top computer geek in the world! If Chandler gets into a position to rule the whole freaking planet, then it's highly likely that he's going to take his computer guy with him, especially if the guy has been loyal all along. Are you sure they can't trace you back to where you're hidden?"
"That's one thing I'm certain of, Baby. There's no way in the world anyone could trace me back to here. But, Sam, my gut instinct says this guy could become an ally. Imagine if we had somebody inside Chandler's offices, how powerful that could be. He's already made it pretty clear that he's not going to make it easy for you guys to stop him. If we could get someone in his organization working on our side, we'd have a better chance of stopping him. Right?"
Ken held out to get Sam's attention. "Sam, she's right. At the moment, you and I are at Chandler's mercy, but as she has a chance to turn someone inside his section and get intelligence that we can use, she's got to go for it. You keep telling me how smart your wife is, well, after this, I believe it. Don't cut her short; she's doing the best thing she can do right at the moment. If she can get anything out of this guy on the computer, we need it, no matter what it is."
Sam shrugged, but then he nodded. "Yeah, I know, and you're right. But, Indie, remember that this isn't like one of our normal skip traces; this isn't the normal hacking you do. These guys are deadly, all of them, and I don't want you taking any chances that could possibly lead them back to you. Do you understand that? Don't take any risks, Babe."
Sam could hear Indie smile through the phone, and knew she was excited about doing her part to help him. "I'll be careful, Honey, I promise. But, Sam, this is too good a chance to pass up. If I can turn Stony to our side, there's no telling what information he could have access to. You stay safe, and I'll call you after I get through talking to him. I love you!"
Sam couldn't help it, he smiled. "I love you, too, Babe. I'll talk to you then."
The phone went dead, and Sam set it down on the bed he was sitting on. He and Ken had checked into a motel on the outskirts of DC, and were waiting to hear from Chandler, as he had instructed them. The clandestine phone that they had used to call him earlier in the day was laid out on the nightstand between the beds, since they expected him to call back on that number.
"That's an incredible woman you got there," Ken said.
"Don't I know it! She's already saved my ass more than once." Sam got up and walked over to the mini fridge, opened it up and took out a bottle of root beer. They had stocked it up with a stop at the convenience store next door to the motel, and Sam looked at the microwavable sandwiches for a moment before choosing one. He glanced over his shoulder at Ken. "You hungry?"
"Yeah, heat me one up too, would you? Sounds like a good idea."
Sam tossed the root beer in his hand over to Ken, then grabbed another for himself while he got a second sandwich out. He popped the packages open, stuck them into the microwave and set the timer for three minutes, according to the instructions on the sandwiches. While they heated, he got each of them a couple of the paper towels they had grabbed at the store. He handed some to Ken, and grinned. "Here, those things get pretty hot in there."
When the microwave dinged to tell them it was done, they each got their sandwiches and sat back down on the beds. Ken picked up the remote and turned on the television, switching channels until he found a local news program. They sat through about fifteen minutes of it before they finally caught a report of the five men who were killed earlier that day in the city.
Strangely enough, it was listed as a drug-related shooting incident, and the DC police reported that they had suspects in custody. Sam looked over at Ken, with his eyes wide and his eyebrows high.
"Think that could be Harry's doing?"
he asked.
Ken shook his head. "Nope," he said. "That's Chandler. Harry might get them to say it was a drug case, but he'd never convince DC to name a suspect. On the other hand, it's a safe bet that the chief of police probably owes Chandler a favor, or a dozen of them. If he wants those killings to be swept under the rug, some poor schmuck is going down for them. It's that simple."
Sam looked sour. "Doesn't it seem strange to you that somebody could have as much power as Chandler's got, but nobody is doing anything to put a stop to them, except guys like us? To me, it would seem like all of Congress, the president, just about anybody would want to slap this guy down! He's a danger to the whole country, maybe even the world. Why is nobody paying attention?"
Ken looked at him for a moment, and then sat up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Sam, when you were in school, was there a schoolyard bully that took everybody's lunch money, and just did whatever he pleased?"
Sam nodded. "Of course," he said, "Jerry Sheppard. I think every school had a Jerry Sheppard, the guy who shook down all the smaller kids and picked on everyone. And, yes, before you ask, I was one of the guys who stood up to him and got stomped into the ground but that didn't stop me; he never did get my lunch money. Of course, he did stomp me pretty good, now and then."
"Well, Chandler is just a schoolyard bully. The trouble is that he's got the biggest schoolyard in the world, and everyone is afraid of him; he's got so many secrets locked up inside his head, and hidden in God knows how many other places, that everybody who might be big enough to deal with him is scared to death to try. If those secrets get out, then it's a pretty safe bet that all of them will be tarnished, if not destroyed completely. Good grief, even the big political families, the ones who aren't even involved in politics anymore — the Kennedys, the Bushes, all the big names — if he dumps his stash of secrets, things will come out that will destroy all of them, and probably cause most of our history books to have to be rewritten."