Systematic Attrition

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  Sujin was lying down on the bed staring at the ceiling thinking about what she had done this night. At first she felt pangs of remorse, but then she justified it by knowing she did what was right and fair. Her family and family before that lived under Japanese rule and afterwards under a military dictatorship. Nothing was worse than living under the thumb of such power in one person or country like Japan. Her grandfather could speak perfect Japanese as when he was young, their own language was forbidden. Only in night whispers of Hangul was heard. Schools were taught only by the Japanese and everyone had to be obedient to the occupiers of a great culture dating many thousands of years. Dislike and hatred still lives on in the old and new generations alike. Maybe one day we can all be united again if only the North Korean government would let go the strangle hold on its citizens. Sujin had a tear running down her face as she closed her eyes feeling her husband lay down next to her holding her tightly. Outside the Shakespearean Ides of March had yet to blow away the sense of doom that hung over the nation’s capital.

  Turn Coat

  Chapter 18

  Sujin the next morning flew home in the Gulf Stream with Wendy. Brad wanted someone to go with her so she wouldn’t be alone on the long flight coast to coast. Now Brad and Steve with Mr. X sat in the Oval Office looking at a president who looked perplexed to say the least. He punched the remote to the TV where CNN came on with a report on the two apparent suicides on location. Police yellow tape was blocking off the area and no one was making a statement. The president turned off the TV and said, “Can any of you gentlemen enlighten the president on what the hell happened here last night?”

  Mr. X looked to Steve and Steve looked to Brad. Only Rocky was left to look at so Brad accepted the trickle down and said, “Mr. President I alone take responsibility for what happened last night. I’m sure your advisers would agree that you need not know the details of the operation. A buffer is in place to protect the presidency and let’s leave it at that. I will say however, two traitors are dead and even in due process, they would have faced the death penalty as you stated we were on a war footing making the policy whereby a traitor is punishable by death.” A deathly quiet hung over the room and then the president quickly changed the conversation.

  “All right let’s turn our attention to the gold shipment being ferried to Switzerland. Are we set up to intercept the shipment and confirm the shipper as Williams?”

  Brad once again was placed under the responsibility to speak saying, “Yes, Mr. President we are in position and ready to intercept the shipment of payment for the contract killer. The CIA is in place and when the secretary enters the bank we will take control with the help of those who don’t desire any notoriety or scandal. Quickly and quietly she will be escorted to the American Embassy where it will be photographed and documented by her statement. After that, it is up to you what to do with the secretary.”

  The president up walking around the desk said, “What if another contract killer is hired in place of this one?”

  Brad said, “We have no way of knowing that at the present time. But if we tie George Williams to the gold and your secretary turns states evidence we can cut off the money flow, if and I say if, no one replaces him in the PAE group. We know the other principals who are at his meetings and they are high level rich men that wield a lot of power. We can’t run around killing all of the people who have a grudge against the system, so now we must have a plan to cut off the flow of money being paid to contract killers. And quite frankly that is out of my league. Politics is your area of expertise and mine is catching the bad guys who have committed a crime like the traitors a discernible threat that can be stopped by conventional means, unlike power brokers who move money around and make deals the common man can’t fathom or want to know for the most part.”

  “You’re right Brad once we get the evidence on George we can do some other things that not concern you or your team. But for now we still have some loose ends and I will rest better knowing George and his bunch are shut down at least for the time being. Our present situation is boiling over and I’m not sure we can stop the boil. These last two assassinations have stirred the press and our citizens thinking it was over when you stopped the assassination of the secretary of defense. Now the press is saying a copy cat from outside the US is on the loose bent upon continuing the unraveling of our government. Now there is talk that Al Queda is behind this terrorist attack on the two generals. I can’t come out and say what really happened. Well gentlemen and Rocky what is done is done and now let’s hope we can put the rest of the operation to bed without any more bloodshed.” Little did any of them know that it was just a week away a rifle was pointed at the National Security Advisor?

  Mike was point man for Brad’s team as he flew to Switzerland the day before the secretary was due in Europe on a tour of the countries so vocal about the war in Iraq. The plan was to let her go at the bank to continue her trip until it was verified the gold came from Williams. Mike was in a non-descript hotel waiting for her arrival. He’d been in contact with the Embassy and in phone contact with Brad. Brad along with Agent Jones and Nancy flew back to the west coast to wait out the results at the Round House.

  * * *

  In Washington at a fleabag hotel a woman sat on the bed oiling a sniper rifle. She had tested it at a shooting range up in Maine where she had entered the US from Canada. The rifle was waiting for her in a locker at the bus station. Broken down it looked much like an attaché case and with a smile rented a car under an alias and drove down to Washington DC where her intended target resided. She mused at the thought of double dealing the stupid American. She would take this last contract and disappear after a cosmetic makeover. Belize sounded like a good place to retire with the cool million she would have stashed in an offshore bank. Her employer guaranteed double her million if she would take two contracts. However, she declined and it would be difficult for anyone to leave the country after the hit on the Foreign Minister.

  While she cleaned and put together and then apart time and time again the rife, she felt the only safe place for an escape after her shot would be when he went to his favorite restaurant for lunch. How to get away was going to be a problem. Now after a few days watching him come and go from the restaurant she made a plan. A ten story building sat about a hundred yards from the restaurant across the street. It housed a bunch of low rent offices and the roof was accessible. She would place a mannequin with a toy rifle to throw off the secret service and her place would be just across the street in a UPS truck with a small hole for her rifle to stick out. Then after the shot she would yell from the back of the truck a man was on the roof pointing at the spot ten stories up. After that she would drive away and leave the van parked near the subway to a place where she had her rented car. She would drive south to Miami and find a plastic surgeon to give her a makeover.

  Back in Europe, Mike waited outside the bank in a rented car. He loved the place and it was like a picture postcard as spring came around making brown turn to green. It was a typical spring day in Geneva. The narrow streets and colorful dress gave it a touch of Old World charm. His reviver was broken by a limo pulling up and then down into an underground parking garage. He knew the CIA was already in the bank as he walked across the street up the steps in one of the oldest banks in the world. Nothing but stoic looking men and women with most of their heads down working greeted him as he strolled across the marble floor gleaming in a high polish. The two CIA guys were talking to a man sitting back next to the wall at a large wooden desk. One of the men waved at him and he walked up shaking hands like he was some kind of important customer. A side door opened and a distinguished looking man stepped out nodding at his colleague to enter. Walking through the large door he saw the secretary sitting next to the desk. On the floor sat a brief case. No words were spoken as she handed the heavy bag to one of the CIA men and promptly left. The CIA men shook the bankers hand and left out the side door leading to the parking garage downstairs. Mike went out th
e front door to his car and followed the CIA men to the Embassy. The print men were waiting as the Ambassador watched the proceedings. Now ten kilos of gold are not large in the physical sense so it didn’t take long to dust the yellow rectangles. Mike’s expression never changed when it was discovered not a print was found anywhere. He turned and walked out to make a phone call.

  Brad listened and then told Mike to come home. A feeling of gloom and doom came over the room when he told the team not a print was found anywhere but only where the secretary had carried it by the handle. Now he sat wondering if the secretary had warned the PAE group or was this old timer just careful as hell. Now what he thought? We’re back to square one. Just when he quit thinking about what ifs Steve called him. He told Brad a note was found in the bottom of the bag saying, “Nice try Brad.”

  Steve said he would be out in a couple days and hung up just as depressed as the rest of the team.

  Three days later on the tenth of March the Minister of Foreign Affairs was assassinated outside his favorite restaurant. Nancy was on the phone with Washington and when she hung up she told the team that the sniper had duped the secret service by placing a mannequin on a rooftop when the fatal shot came from across the street. An abandoned UPS van was found not far away with a porthole out the side of it. No fingerprints but a few fibers were found. The assassin disappeared.

  Brad would not let the news get them down. He was not a quitter; far from it. Time to run the hell out of his team and get back on the job as he said, “Ok, Mike call Julie and invite her for another crab feast in Devils Kitchen; the rest of you, excluding Billy who will take the crab pot to Fish Rock and catch the crabs, make the fire, have the water boiling before dark, and then we will take a run on the beach until your tongues hang out.” Like the military they all jumped up and did what the boss ordered.

  Mike was on a high, it had been awhile since he ran and plowed on with Agent Jones hanging with him as usual; undaunted by the set back. Brad hung back with Wendy and Sujin keeping a steady pace. It was Sandy’s turn for running on the beach. Sujin let her go to chase birds and sniff the sand dunes for other dogs that might have invaded her territory. The tide was going out signally ebb was near and the wind was down for March. This was the time of year when the coast had about two weeks of warm mild weather as the wind blew off shore making some fine days for beach combing and agate hunting. After a run to the jetty they turned back to run south. Two hours later they slowly made the climb up the trail to the Round House. Brad felt wonderful and full of energy. Everyone hurried to the shower before the hot water ran out and afterwards took a break upstairs being a little lazy. Small talk going around as Julie arrived with her two kids eager to see her man. Mike took the opportunity to check the crab pot with his most significant one. It was at this time he felt like asking her to marry him, but why spoil a good thing he thought as they made their way to Fish Rock. After checking the crab pot and finding it full of crabs they climbed to the top of the rock to take in the view of the seashore lined with giant sea stacks up and down the beach. The only sounds came from the quiet roar of the ocean and the sea gulls squawking as they circled the shore and rocks looking for bits of food. Mike told her of his adventures to Europe and meeting his old friend Pete. Also his trip to Switzerland that was a bust, but he enjoyed for the first time see the Old World charm at its finest. Julie was especially interested in his meeting with the woman who was a contract killer. Mike described her best he could, but it was impossible to say what she really looked like and what her personality might be like. After that Julie told him about the farm and the newborn lambs that popped out just a few days ago and chickens too had many chicks following their clucking mothers.

  Julie asked Mike how Brad was doing under the stress of not catching the bad guy. He responded saying, “You know Brad, and he will dog the case until he wins outsmarting the opposition. But now we have no idea what is coming next. We know who the leader is, but in the core group if we took him out would be filled by others just like him. Some very clever work is needed here to take these guys out.”

  Mike laid back on the warm rock and Julie lay in his arms. Both had a nice, but short nap as their kids found them on top of Fish Rock. Both were boys and oldest at ten was the spitting image of his father with the youngest small for his age looking like Julie. Julie was small, but spunky was the word Mike used. She ran the farm with an iron hand including Mike when he wasn’t on an operation. Mike was rubbing the sleep out of his remembering just as he nodded off when they first met down in San Diego. He and his buddies came into an all night restaurant after partying for something to eat. Julie was waiting behind the counter as they sat in a row laughing and having a good time like sailors do. One of his friends was pitching one liner’s at Julie and one hit home when he referred to her short height. Her response, as he remembered with a smile now that they were up and walking back to the Round House was to say to his friend, “I might be short in height, but you’re probably short where it really counts.” Needless to say, that shut him up in a hurry as Brad and Sujin walked up to them out for a stroll on the beach.

  Brad said, “Mike we are up a creek without the proverbial paddle. Do you have anything on your mind, except tonight with Julie, that we can use,” as he punched him on the arm laughing.

  “Well, do you think I might go looking for that witch French bitch? My only clue is she saying spending her life under a hot sun. If it were me that did the deed, I would head south to Florida and change my looks while I searched for a place to disappear to. It would take a few weeks or more for a face job to heal. What do you think?”

  Julie and Sujin were slowly walking towards home with the kids playing with Rocky as they followed the girls. Brad said, “That is a long shot, but let’s kick it around when we get back with the team. As you know plastic surgeons are doctors who always claim client confidentiality when it comes to giving out information. However, in this case maybe using the information we are looking for the assassin who killed the Foreign Minister might make their tongues wag a little.”

  Mike added, “If we flooded Miami with the FBI and made a loud noise in the city maybe it would flush her out making her visible catching a cruise ship or airplane.”

  “It can’t hurt anything and if Nancy headed the team, with a description of her former appearance by you, maybe, just maybe we could take her alive. We could offer her a deal in exchange for testimony against Williams.”

  Both Mike and Brad topped the trail to the front of the house when Steve drove in getting out of his car looking as usual in his Burberry and hatless. If he had a hat on, Mike thought he would make a good scarecrow with his long thin nose and slight build. Steve wordless led the way into the house and plopped down on the sofa leaving his Burberry on. Rocky came up and laid his head on his leg looking up at Steve with eyes of sadness. Steve laid his hand on Rockies head giving him an ear rub of affection. Rocky licked his hand and then lay down at his feet saying, “Don’t be sad, my master will make things better soon.”

  Brad sat on a floor mat and with the others standing around, including Nancy Brad broached the idea of an effort to find the assassin in Florida. Each team member looked at one another and then kind of wandered off to think about what was said. Billy dashed outside for a hit of nicotine and then back down to the computer room for a search of plastic surgeons. After most of the team had thought about it, sat down in a circle and all eyes focused on Nancy who blushed at the attention. She realized Brad had thrown the ball in her court and now she was expected to respond by either throwing it back or running with it. Fear gripped her, but just for a moment as she bravely said, “It is a massive undertaking. She could slip out undetected and depart from say Ft. Lauderdale, charter a plane; hire a boat, my god talk about a needle in a haystack. However, if we made a plan of action to strategically place agents…….” Her thoughts drifted off for a moment and then continued, “I’m game if you guys are,” she said with more confidence than she felt.


  Wendy spoke up and said, “What we need is a good description of her especially her accent. As you know subjects like this are brazen and think they can walk right through unseen or detected.” She was looking at Nancy and then added, “I think we ought to keep this an FBI operation and only use the local police if necessary. We could bring in the DIA as they have experience in ways in and out of Florida with the drug problem.”

  Brad looked up at Steve and without asking what he thought, Steve said, “I’ll tell you this much, we have to do something and right now I’m all out of ideas and the president is counting on our continued investigation. My only thoughts are about what you’re suggesting is that we also man the other end of say cruise ships calling at major ports like Montego Bay or the Bahamas. We could use the CIA on that end of things. Also, we could place an agent on each liner that departs after word hits we are looking for a suspect who was the assassin of our Foreign Minister.”

  Mike who had listened to the round floor discussion was starring in the kitchen where the girls were preparing for the evening crab feast. Brad knew his brain was working overtime seeing how he could fit into the puzzle that was forming. Later he told Brad if the plan was accepted he would take on the private air services that had connections even in Cuba. Brad told him to make it so and to have Billy get the list of air services for him. Mike looked at his friend and saw the look of determination that once again the game was on.

  Florida Orange Juice

  Chapter 19

  The next day, after an evening of enjoyment eating fresh crab and drinking some homemade wine of Julies, then seeing Agent Jones and Wendy walking off into the night holding hands, they flew first to Palm Springs where Steve and Brad deplaned and the rest of the team flew to Florida.