Term Limits mr-1

by Vince Flynn

  Seamus cut the engine and shut everything down. He and Michael got out of the plane, and the man by the pickup approached. Seamus met him halfway and they embraced, slapping each other on the back. Seamus turned and said, “Michael, you remember Augie, don’t you?” Michael stuck out his hand.

  “It’s been a while. Good to see you again, sir.”

  “Good to see you, Michael.” Jackson stared at him for a moment and said, “God, you look just like your grandfather.” Michael smiled and Augie asked, “Things have been pretty hectic in Washington lately, haven’t they?”

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  “Yes.”

  Augie gestured toward the rear of the truck. “Let’s go sit down. My old legs don’t work so well anymore.” Augie led them to the back of the truck, where he lowered the tailgate. He and Seamus sat and Michael stood with his arms folded across his chest.

  Augie pulled out a pipe and a bag of tobacco. He filled the bowl and offered the bag to

  Seamus.

  While Augie packed his pipe, he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I got your call last night, Seamus. In fact, I’ve been, doing a lot of thinking since this whole thing started. Kind of a professional curiosity I guess you’d call it.” He put the packing tool back in his pocket and pulled out a lighter. “Michael, did your grandfather tell you what I used to do for the CIA?”

  “A little.” Augie lit the lighter and held the flame over the bowl, sucking on the pipe until the packed tobacco caught fire. Exhaling the smoke, he moved the pipe to the corner of his mouth and said, “Well, I’ll give you the short version. After the war, I stayed in the

  Corps and went to work for Naval Intelligence back in Washington. Several years later, when the CIA was formed, I was hired and sent to work at our Paris embassy. I spent my first fifteen years in Europe and then was brought back to Langley, where I became kind of a roving analyst on Russo-European intelligence issues. During my time at Langley, I

  was also part of a special group that planned covert operations.” Jackson took several deep puffs. “I think I might have some information that could help you, but before I go any further, I’d like to ask a few questions.” Michael nodded his head and said, “Shoot.”

  “Where did you hear that there is a second group responsible for the murders of Olson and Turnquist?”

  “I really can’t say.”

  “You mean you won’t.” Jackson exhaled a puff of smoke and kept his eyes fixed on

  Michael’s. “Why are you talking to me and not the FBI?”

  “The FBI has this information. I’d like to do a little searching on my own.” Augie thought about the answer over several puffs of his pipe and then asked, “Why?”

  “Erik Olson was a good friend.”

  “That’s the only reason?” Jackson stared into Michael’s eyes and waited for an answer. Michael looked to Seamus for a moment and then back at Augie. “Yes.”

  “You’re a bad liar, Michael. Just like your grandfather.” Augie looked at Seamus and smiled.

  Then, looking down at the ground, he said, “I suppose neither of you have any idea who is behind the first four assassinations?” Michael shook his head. In a cynical tone

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  Augie said, “I didn’t think you would.” Augie bobbed his chin up and down. “Well, I

  have a hunch who might have been involved, but before we get to that, I have some information that I think you will find interesting. I’m going to tell you a story about something I took part in while I was at the Agency, but first I have to give you a little background information. “In the late fifties and early sixties I was the CIA’s station chief at our Paris embassy. Tensions between us and the Soviet Union were running hot. There was a very real threat that the Soviets might wage a conventional war and try to take

  Western Europe. All along the Iron Curtain, NATO forces were outgunned almost five to one in tanks, artillery, and troop strength. Our military planners thought the best way to deter the Soviet Union from any aggressive action was to deploy tactical nuclear weapons in Western Europe. Our NATO allies agreed, and the missiles were moved into place.

  The message to the Soviet Union was simple. If you initiate any military action towards

  Western Europe, we will retaliate with a tactical nuclear strike. This policy worked perfectly until the early sixties, when France started to get goofy on us. “There was a group of politicians in the French parliament who wanted all U.S. nuclear missiles removed from French soil. There were even a few who wanted all U.S. military personnel removed. These ingrates started to attract quite a following, holding protests outside the gates of our military bases we had over there and making more and more speeches demanding that we leave. The writing on the wall was clear. France had a history of being one of our most fickle allies—never mind that fifteen years earlier we had kicked the Nazis out of their country for them. From the President down, our political leadership was furious that France could be so ungrateful.

  We were given the go-ahead by Langley to initiate clandestine action against the leaders of this anti-U.S, movement. Our orders were to find a way to make them change their minds. Over a period of about six months we managed to bribe several of them and blackmail a few more.

  We were not successful, however, with the core leaders of the movement.

  After exhausting all efforts, Langley sent a man to Paris who was a specialist of sorts.

  But, before I get to that, are you familiar with the French Algerian conflict?”

  “A little,” answered Michael. Augie took several puffs on his pipe.

  “Well, back in the late fifties the French military was immersed in a war with revolutionary Algerian forces who wanted independence from France. This war waged on for several years, and although they suffered some high casualties early on, the French military eventually put down the uprising. Throughout the war there were certain fringe members of the French parliament who were demanding Algeria be granted independence.” Augie paused and raised his eyebrows.

  “These politicians also happened to be the same ones protesting against U.S. nuclear weapons on French soil. “Well, the French military had done their job. They had suffered significant casualties and fought a bloody war with the rebels. With the conflict all but over and the rebels on the run, the French parliament and President de Gaulle did

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  something that shocked everyone. They granted Algeria independence and ordered the

  French military out. At the time there were over a quarter of a million French nationals living in Algeria. “This decision completely alienated the French military from the country’s political leadership. And it so infuriated a group of commanders who had fought in Algeria that they deserted and formed a paramilitary group called the OAS.”

  Augie paused to see if Michael was with him and then continued. “The OAS went underground in Algeria and France and initiated a violent commando war with the French political leadership and the leaders of the Algerian liberation movement. They started blowing up bombs and assassinating politicians left and right. They even made several attempts on President de Gaulle.

  “Just after the first OAS attempt on de Gaulle’s life, this specialist arrived from

  Washington. I was instructed to give him whatever assistance he needed. I met him at a safe house that we had in Paris and found out he was a covert-operations expert. This man had a brilliant but simple plan. The two most vocal critics of our nuclear weapons being on French soil were also two of the most vocal proponents of Algerian independence. This covert-operations specialist’s plan was to assassinate them and make it look like it was the work of the OAS. It took us about two months to plan the whole thing, and then we got the green light from Washington.”

  “Did it work?” Augie nodded his head and puffed on his pipe. Michael asked, “The

  CIA assassinated two elected officials in an allied country?”

  “Yes. Michael, you have to understand things were a lot di
fferent back then. The stakes were considerably higher than they are today, and the spying business was a far deadlier game.” Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not into revisionism, and I’m not in much of a position to judge you.” Augie rubbed the end of his pipe with his thumb. “Do you understand why I told you that story?”

  “I think so.”

  “What would your reaction be if I told you I think I know who might be behind the assassinations of Olson and Turnquist?” Michael shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I would be very interested to hear what you have to say.”

  “The man that came up with the idea to use the OAS as a cover went on to head the

  Black Operations Directorate of the CIA from the mid-sixties until just several years ago.

  Have you ever heard of Arthur Higgins?” Michael frowned and said, “Yes… I thought he was retired.”

  “Forced out would be a more precise term.”

  “Why?”

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  “There are a lot of reasons, but the short version is that he and Director Stansfield had some issues.” Michael looked at Seamus and then back at Augie. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I think Arthur is behind the assassinations of Turnquist and Olson.”

  “I hope you’re basing this on more than the story you just told me.”

  “Oh, I am. There’s a lot more.” Michael’s chin dropped down into his chest, and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Without looking up, he asked, “What’s the motive for Higgins to kill Turnquist and Erik?”

  “I’m not sure about Turnquist, but Arthur had a personal score to settle with Olson.”

  “What score?” Michael looked up. “Arthur was next in line for the top job at the CIA

  when Director Carlyle stepped down four years ago.

  Everybody thought the job was Arthur’s, including me. That was until your old boss stepped in.”

  “Erik?”

  “Yep. You must remember, when all of this happened, you were on Olson’s staff.”

  “Of course I do, but I don’t remember Higgins’s name being mentioned.

  All I remember is the President nominating Stansfield and that he was confirmed with bipartisan support.” Augie grinned. “Stansfield was the only person nominated because your boss, Chairman Olson, went to the President and told him if Arthur’s name was sent to the Intelligence Committee, he would do everything in his power to block the nomination.

  Olson told the President if the nomination was lucky enough to get out of his committee and make it to the Senate floor for a vote, he would resign his chairmanship in protest.” Augie pointed the end of his pipe at Michael.

  “Rather than risk the embarrassment, the President nominated Stansfield, and Arthur missed his chance at the one job he had worked his entire life to get.” Michael frowned.

  “You think he would kill Erik over that?”

  “You’ve never met Arthur, have you?”

  “No.”

  “He’s the most evil son of a bitch I’ve ever known.” Michael skeptically shook his head. “I’m having a hard time buying this.”

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  “Michael, it runs much deeper than what I’ve told you. For over thirty years Arthur ran the most secretive part of the Agency. He answered to no one. Directors came and went and not one of them dared cross him.

  Arthur always hid behind internal-secrecy rules and a need-to-know basis. In the early years he received a blank check for his operations, but then, when the House and the Senate implemented oversight committees, he was left with the option of telling them what he was doing or having his funding cut. Arthur was not involved in the type of things he could talk about in public. He didn’t even tell people in the Agency what he was up to, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to walk into a committee room and explain himself to a roomful of men who were about as good at keeping secrets as a gossip columnist.

  Over the years his funding shrank significantly, but his operating budget continued to grow. He started to finance his operations through various illegal endeavors.”

  “Why didn’t someone reel him in?” asked Seamus.

  “Senator Olson did.”

  “I can’t believe I never heard any of this from Erik.”

  “Your boss was a very reasonable man, and he understood the value of the Agency.

  He was a realist, and he knew that going after Arthur through hearings or an investigation would do more harm than good.

  Instead, he worked behind the scenes to try and keep him as honest as possible.”

  Augie tapped the bowl of his pipe on the tailgate and the spent tobacco fell to the ground in clumps. “Let’s not lose sight of something here. The other reason Arthur was tolerated was that he served a very valuable purpose. When things got ugly, he was called in to clean up. He handled all of the stuff that no one else wanted to.

  He took care of the Agency’s dirty work.” Michael thought about it for a minute. “Can you be sure he’s responsible for this?”

  “I can’t be one hundred percent sure.” Augie dumped some more tobacco into the bowl of the pipe and packed it down. “There are a lot of other reasons why I think Arthur killed Senator Olson and Congressman Turnquist …. I have my reasons for not wanting to discuss them, just like you have yours for not wanting to discuss your source.”

  “Why don’t you go to the FBI with this?”

  Augie lit his pipe and frowned. “The FBI can’t do anything.”

  “Why not? All we have to do is tell them what you just said, and they’ll initiate an investigation.”

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  Augie smiled. “And they’ll find nothing, and I’ll end up with a bullet in the back of my head. Michael, I don’t think you understand who we are talking about. Arthur is a very brilliant and ruthless person.

  He’s assassinated people all over the world, and he hasn’t come close to getting caught. Not once Besides, I can’t tell the FBI anything.

  I’m bound by the national secrecy act.”

  “Well, I can.”

  “Michael, I don’t think you understand. If you go to the FBI, Arthur will find out. He has sources everywhere. After he finds out it was you who went to the FBI, he will very subtly threaten your life or the life of someone close to you. Or maybe he’ll just have you killed. He is not a man to be toyed with.”

  “Why are you telling me all of this if you don’t think I should do anything?”

  “I expect you to do something, but before I get to that, I have to ask you some questions.” Augie sucked on his pipe for a while. “When Downs, Fitzgerald, Koslowski, and Basset were killed, I wasn’t real torn up. I hated everything they stood for, and I was glad to see them gone. I’ve thought for a long time that the crusty old windbags in

  Washington needed to be shaken up.” Augie paused, contemplating how to phrase his next statement. “I have a good idea who was behind the first four assassinations.” Augie shifted his weight and put one foot on the ground. He looked at Seamus and said, “I could ask a more direct question, but I don’t want to be lied to, so I’ll skirt the issue slightly. If you really had to … could you get in touch with someone who is involved in the original assassinations?” After a moment of silence Seamus said, “Yes.” Michael’s face remained passive.

  “Good.”

  Augie stood and hobbled to the cab of the truck. “I’ve got something I’d like you to pass on to them for me.” He reached behind the seat, pulled out a large legal file, and walked back to the tailgate.

  Sitting down with an owly look in his eye, he said, “I think I have everything figured out, but it’s probably better to leave certain things unsaid.”

  Augie handed the file to Seamus. “Please pass this on to your revolutionary friends.”

  “What’s in it?” asked Michael. “Remember how I told you when I was at the Agency I

  was kind of a roving analyst? I was also a troubleshooter of sorts. Right before I left the />
  Agency, Director Stansfield asked me to draw up some contingency plans for a …

  delicate operation.”

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  Seamus looked at the file and then up at his old friend. “What kind of an operation?”

  “One that no one other than Stansfield and I were to know about. и .

  .

  After Stansfield took over, Arthur became even more reclusive.

  Stansfield knew that he would have to force Arthur to resign and became increasingly worried about how he would react. There were a lot of concerns that he might turn on us and sell information abroad or use things that he knew to blackmail Stansfield and the

  Agency. He was a loose cannon, and no one knew which direction he would fire, so

  Stansfield did the prudent thing and asked me to draw up a plan to neutralize him.”

  “The folder contains the plan?” asked Michael. “Most of it. There’s detailed schematics of his house on the Chesapeake. It gives a rundown on his security system, where its strengths and weaknesses are, how many guards he has and what their rotation is. The plan is a year and a half old, so I’m not sure how much has changed. I do know that he still spends almost all of his time at the house. He has a lot of enemies, which has made him extremely paranoid over the years.”

  “Why aren’t you going to Stansfield with this?”

  “Arthur is still very well connected at the Agency. No one really knows how well for sure, but there is a chance he would be forewarned about any plans against him.”