Imminent Threat

by Jack Patterson

  “I think you’re right. We need to be careful, but we need to play along. If we act suspicious to the wrong people, we may seal our own fate soon enough.”

  Banks picked up the phone and dialed her supervisor, Carl Jacobs. She put the call on speaker.

  “How was your flight?” Jacobs asked.

  “As well as expected. I was just calling to check in. We’re back in D.C.”

  “Good.” Jacobs paused. “My condolences on your partner. He was a good man.”

  “He was—and I want to nail these bastards to honor his memory.”

  “Don’t worry. We will.”

  “Any new developments?”

  “Well, your hunch was right.”

  “Oh? Which one?”

  “The one about the Plutonium-238 being on one of the shipping containers at the Lewiston Port.”

  Flynn shot her a look and furrowed his brow. He mouthed “Really?” to her. She put her head down sheepishly and refused to look at him.

  “I’m glad you trusted me,” she said.

  “It’s been paying off for me for a while now.”

  “So all of the nuclear matter is accounted for?”

  “Thanks to you, it is.”

  “That’s a relief. Anything else happen while we were in the air?”

  “Nothing major, but I would like to see you in here tomorrow for a debriefing. We’ve got a few things to discuss.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, nothing to worry about. Just standard protocol.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.” She hung up and glanced at Flynn. “What do you think that’s going to be about?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t tell him too much. I think you’re right about something going on. This whole thing doesn’t sit well with me either.”

  “Do you trust your contact at the CIA?” she asked.

  “Implicitly.” Flynn paused. “They might have kicked me out for exposing them a while back, but Osborne has never failed me. I trust him with my life—and have several times.”

  Once they arrived at Langley, Banks accompanied Flynn to Todd Osborne’s office.

  Osborne gestured for them to sit down while he closed the door behind them.

  “Good work, Flynn,” Osborne said. “You too, Special Agent Banks.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  Osborne leaned on his desk and scanned both of them with his eyes. “So, tell me about this sniper who tried to take you both out.”

  “I couldn’t tell much at the time since he was shooting at us almost the entire time, but it was like he knew we were coming.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Banks leaned forward. “What he means is that it’s unlikely that this team positioned a sniper up on the river bank to shoot at anyone who might have been trying to kill them once they passed. For a team that seemed to be one step ahead of us most of the time, this seemed like a stretch.”

  Osborne stroked his chin. “I see. And this is how you feel too, Flynn?”

  Flynn nodded. “It would’ve taken some incredible luck for one of their own guys to be doing—” He paused and stared out the window.

  “What is it?” Banks asked.

  Flynn spun around. “They certainly wouldn’t have blown up the boat if they knew what was in it though. So either it was one of their guys or it was someone else entirely different who had no knowledge of what was going on.”

  “Or it was both,” Osborne added.

  “Both?”

  Osborne nodded. “Perhaps someone knew what they were doing and what you were doing—and was willing to go to great lengths to cover it up so nobody found out the truth.”

  “It’s working so far,” Banks said.

  “Yes, but we’re still alive—for the time being. And we still have a chance to find out who was behind this.”

  Osborne shook his head. “But it just doesn’t make sense if it wasn’t one of their team members. Why would anyone else want to kill you—especially someone who might have had knowledge of your location and objective?”

  “That’s a question I’ve asked myself a hundred times if I’ve asked it once,” Flynn quipped.

  “That’s why I don’t prefer the field,” Osborne said.

  “Well, I think this is some kind of an inside job,” Flynn said. “And no one is safe if that’s the case.”

  Osborne threw up his hands. “I don’t know. I just can’t make heads or tails of this one yet. All I know is that something isn’t right.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious. Would you also like to tell us how summers are generally hot and winters are usually rather cold?”

  “Knock it off, wise guy. You know what I mean. It feels like you’ve been compromised in a way.”

  Flynn pointed at himself then Banks. “Me or her?”

  “Her, but you’re involved now.”

  “Just keep my name out of any official reports,” Flynn said, glancing at Osborne then Banks. “Both of you. Understand?”

  “They both nodded. You’ll remain nameless in my reports, though I can’t help but wonder if the sniper doesn’t already know who you are—or at least that you’re involved. He shot an FBI agent first.”

  “Low-hanging fruit,” Flynn said.

  Osborne furrowed his brow. “Come again?”

  “Lang was almost dead, so he took him out and made sure that he wasn’t going to survive. Banks was likely next—but I doubt he was counting on me.”

  Banks looked at Flynn. “You’re the only one I can count on right now.”

  “Ditto. And we need to stick together if we’re going to figure out what’s going on.”

  Osborne threw his hands in the air. “What about me? Am I chop liver?”

  Flynn laughed. “No, but you’re the man with no answers right now. Keep digging and let us know what you find.”

  Osborne opened the door and gestured for them to exit. “I’ll keep you posted once I find out anything else.”

  Just as Banks was about to step out into the hallway, several agents ran past her. “What’s that all about? Is that how people walk down the hall at Langley?”

  Osborne chuckled. “Oh, everyone’s in a hurry today. Some soldier survived the Taliban attack the other day and went on television about an hour ago telling everyone that the U.S. government was behind the attack that destroyed his squad. He was the lone survivor.”

  “Sounds intense,” Flynn said.

  “It is—pretty intense accusation,” Osborne said, waving his hand. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  CHAPTER 20

  KYLE KRAMER SAT IN HIS CAR a half a block from Jennifer Banks’ condo in downtown D.C. The sun sparkled just above the trees, a last gasp before it disappeared until morning. He’d been there a half hour and no sign of Banks or the man he’d seen escaping with her down the river earlier that morning on the other side of the country.

  “Ah, modern travel, isn’t it great?” he said to himself.

  He pretended to read The Washington Post but kept his eyes trained just above the top of the paper on the parking garage for her building. Still nothing.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an elderly woman hobbling down the street with a load of groceries. She tripped on a manhole cover on the sidewalk and tumbled to the ground. He jumped out of his car and helped her up, gathering all of her groceries quickly and stuffing them back into her sacks.

  “Here you go, Miss,” he said once he handed the last bag to her.

  She smiled at him. “Why, that’s just so kind of you,” she said. “And some people think there aren’t any decent people left in this world.” She reached up and pinched his cheek. “You keep proving them wrong.” She grabbed her walker and flashed another smile at him before turning and shuffling down the street.

  He hustled back to his car and refocused his attention on the parking garage. Nobody had gone in that looked remotely like his target.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced
down at the number. He took a deep breath and answered it.

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought you said you took care of those two FBI agents,” the man said.

  “I thought I did, too.”

  “Well, you didn’t.”

  “I know. I’m in D.C. right now, camped outside Banks’ parking garage.”

  “Do you even know what she drives?”

  “That’d be helpful.”

  “A black two-door Toyota Camry model from two years ago. I’ll text you the license plate number.”

  “Great.”

  “But there’s another problem.”

  Kramer took another deep breath and let it out. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, she’s working with another guy. Did you see him?”

  “I saw someone with her. He didn’t seem like much of a threat.”

  “Well, appearances can be deceiving. And besides, he obviously survived the best you threw at him already, didn’t he?”

  Kramer seethed at the insinuation that someone outsmarted him. “Who is he?”

  “James Flynn, former CIA operative.”

  Kramer chuckled. “The same conspiracy theorist who’s on television all the time?”

  “Don’t take him lightly. He’s trained and he’s dangerous.”

  “You want me to take him out, too?”

  “I’ll double your fee if you do.”

  “Double? Are you serious?”

  “I don’t joke about anything. Take him out.” The man paused a beat. “But it’s got to seem like a viable accident. Nothing suspicious. He’s got a following that could create pressure for the feds to investigate if it looks wonky.”

  “And the girl?”

  “Take her out by any means necessary. I don’t care. Just get her out of the picture.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “You better handle it—and it better be handled more swiftly and completely than you handled things on the Columbia River.”

  Kramer would’ve punched the man in the face if he were standing right in front of him. He was a professional—and everyone had an off day, even an expert like himself. But it wasn’t a battle he intended to lose. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  “And Kramer?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t underestimate Flynn. He might be a journalist, but he’s got skills. He’s far more resourceful than you might think.”

  “Understood. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I know I don’t.” The man drew a deep breath, one that Kramer could hear. “If you don’t, I’ll send someone after you.”

  Kramer hung up and slammed his phone into the passenger’s seat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to kill someone.

  His phone buzzed and he glanced at the text message containing Banks’ license plate.

  Then he looked up, just in time to see a black two-door Camry pull into the parking deck with Banks at the helm—and another man in the passenger seat.

  Well, isn’t this my lucky day.

  He laughed and popped his trunk.

  CHAPTER 21

  DR. WATSON GLANCED at her watch and returned to looking at the slide on her microscope. Hours seemed to tick past like seconds. She felt weak and shaky. Despite the fact that she took ten minutes to devour a takeout pizza she’d ordered and had a security guard leave outside her door, she was still famished—but she couldn’t justify eating more. Some things were more important, such as her life.

  She heard some faint banging coming from the quarantine ward. She stopped what she was doing and rushed to see what the commotion was all about.

  It was Dr. Mosley.

  “Let’s go, Melissa,” he said. “I don’t have all day, much less all night.”

  She drew a deep breath and waved him off and started to walk away. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “It isn’t good enough.”

  She stopped. “Perhaps you could give me some suggestions, maybe your final words.”

  “We’re in this together,” he said. “Just use your head.” He collapsed to the floor, sweat beading up on his forehead, blood oozing from his nose. Then he screamed.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, pressing her face to the glass.

  “Everything. I think my organs are starting to shut down.”

  Organs?

  Watson disappeared, dashing back to her workstation. His comment gave her an idea. She scurried around the lab to prepare another antidote—potential antidote—one she hoped would work this time.

  With just two hours left to save Mosley, Watson had only two more infected monkeys to work with. After that, she was on her own. She might even have to start testing on Mosley, but she hoped to avoid reaching such a desperate place.

  Though she knew she likely had the virus based off Mosley’s injection, she still dressed up in a hazmat suit to enter the quarantine chamber.

  He rolled his eyes. “Still pretending, are we?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Just hold him down,” she said, gesturing toward the monkey.

  Mosley grabbed the monkey while she administered the antidote. She retreated to the other side of the quarantine chamber and watched through the glass. The monkey seemed to become more alert after a few minutes before he convulsed and shook—and died.

  “Come on,” Mosley screamed as he slammed the glass. “You can do better than this.”

  She swallowed hard and looked at the clock. Only one more monkey left—and only ninety minutes left for Mosley.

  CHAPTER 22

  SENATOR THOR COULDN’T WAIT to talk with Staff Sgt. Dan Thatcher as soon as he saw his face plastered across the television screen. Cable news programming went crazy with the story. Everyone from his mother to his aunt to his second grade teacher was being interviewed as a character witness to Thatcher’s alleged account. Psychologists and therapists broke down his recorded interview with a German television station to determine if he was lying—and the conclusions were split. No matter what side anyone took, there were holes, gaping holes to his story. Nothing made sense.

  But Thor knew better.

  “Get me Staff Sgt. Thatcher on the phone,” he said to one of his aides as he snapped his fingers. “Like yesterday.”

  The aide stared at him, mouth agape. “Really? You think he’ll talk to you?”

  “I know he will. Now get moving.”

  In a matter of minutes, Thatcher answered the phone. “Senator Thor?”

  “Yes, Staff Sgt. Thatcher. It’s me. How are you?”

  “All things considered, I’m alive.”

  “That’s it? You’re just alive.”

  “Sir, I don’t mean you any disrespect, but I have no idea who I can trust anymore. I didn’t even want to take your call, but I was curious as to why you’d be calling. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat, right?”

  “I’m hoping it doesn’t kill me.”

  Thor laughed. “No, no, Sergeant. It’s not going to kill you.” He paused. “As long as you tell me the truth.”

  “If you’ve been watching these news reports, you’ve heard the truth already. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “Oh, I think there’s more to the story than what you’ve said. You attack a Taliban outpost based on intel, and as you move in a U.S. drone attack wipes out the entire compound, including your troops.”

  “That’s it.”

  “I’m not buying it. There’s more to your story than that. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Senator, I mean you no disrespect, but I don’t know if you’re cleared to hear any more.”

  “I’ve got top-security clearance and serve on the defense committee, but that’s irrelevant at this point. Someone was trying to kill you—and you want to know who.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And so do I.” Thor took a deep breath. “So, tell me what really happened.”

  “I already have, sir. If you’ve seen the news reports, you’ve heard all there is to hear. We
were in a firefight with the Taliban in the mountains of northeastern Afghanistan when a pair of U.S. drones honed in on our position and annihilated us. I was the only survivor—and I’ll be damned if I don’t know why.”

  “Are you sure it was U.S. drones?”

  “As sure as I am standing here.”

  “Hmmm. Well, that does sound strange. And I understand your reason for breaking protocol. I’d be suspicious myself if something like that happened to me.”

  “I wasn’t just breaking protocol, sir. I was saving my life.”

  “Well, I’d be careful if I were you. If you think breaking protocol and sharing your story to a global audience is going to save you, I’d suggest that you rethink what you’re doing. If someone wants you dead, they’re not going to care about what anyone thinks—they simply want you dead. And they’re going to stop at nothing to ensure that happens.”

  “Are you threatening me, senator?”

  “On the contrary—I’m warning you to be on the lookout. Be vigilant for anything out of the ordinary.” Thor went silent and waited for a moment before he resumed speaking. “But I know there’s more to your story. Drones wouldn’t just hunt you down for no apparent reason. I’m not sure what it is that you’re not telling me, but I’m smart enough to know when someone is withholding information.” Thor broke into a chuckle. “Hell, I work on Capitol Hill with a bunch of professional liars.”

  “You know everything I know, sir.”

  “Suit yourself. I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me the entire truth. But I suppose you’ve already been told that your commanding officer was lost today.”

  “What? How?”

  “A roadside IED. He was on a routine sweep and he and his entire company were killed by insurgents in the ensuing firefight.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “Of course you didn’t, Sergeant. You were too concerned with making sure the world heard your story. But there’s more to this than you think. So, if you change your mind, it’s easy to find me.”

  Thor hung up and stared out his window at the twinkling lights of D.C. The young sergeant had undoubtedly been through a lot, but he knew there was more to his story—and he intended to find out everything, no matter what it took.