by Bill Clem
With the Holland problem quashed, he needed to get back to Brighton to meet with Ritter. The "pions were getting restless" was how Ritter had put it.
They demanded an update.
Cogswell now had an update for them. First, however, he had a detour to make. The call came from two agents outside Eva Smorzak's house. They had just spotted McDermott. Their orders were to do nothing; Cogswell was on his way to handle it, personally.
He turned to his pilot. "Let's go. I have one more stop to make."
Ten minutes later, he directed the pilot to set down in a field next to a ski resort that bordered Smorzak's house. As the chopper descended, Cogswell could see skiers in their brightly colored outfits dotting the landscape. He thought of shooting a few of them to keep up his marksmanship skills. No need. He could test those soon enough. This thorn in his ass--this McDermott--was about to be sent on a permanent ski vacation. It wasn't anything personal. It was just... well, he was an obstacle.
Cogswell eliminated obstacles.
Chapter Seventy-One
The phone rang as Howie Layton raked a hand through his thin, red hair.
He looked at the receiver and blew a ragged breath. The events of the afternoon had left him shaken, and he wondered if it might be Rod Serling on the line, welcoming him to his "next stop." Although Layton was an avid Twilight Zone fan, he was not enthusiastic about starring in his own episode.
After what had happened today, however, nothing would surprise him.
Reluctantly, he picked up the phone. "Flight dispatch."
"Howie, it's Frank, over at the tower. We just had a call from a secure phone aboard Air Force Two."
Layton bristled. "Air Force Two! What's next?"
"What's that?"
"Nothing. Just talking to myself. What does Air Force Two want?"
"Well for starters, they want a secure runway to land on with no other traffic. The pilot said he would radio back with further instructions."
"Who the hell do they think they are? This is Switzerland, not Washington."
"Well I just received a fax from the Swiss consulate that came through the administrator's office. It pretty much says to give them whatever they need."
Layton was quiet for a long moment. Then. "Shut down nine and divert any flights from nine to six. And get back to me as soon as you hear from them again. I don't want a circus out there when they land. We need to have a more specific itinerary from them."
Layton had about had it with government bureaucrats today. He couldn't help think this unexpected request had something to do with the mess Jonah was in. This conspiracy theory of his was beginning to seem more real by the minute, and though Layton would like to distance himself from it, he was up to his ears in it.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Cogswell stepped off the big Chinook and waited till it was well airborne before he made his move. The chopper would draw enough attention. The last thing he needed was to have McDermott spot him. When he got to the unmarked sedan, he dispatched the two agents back to Brighton and the makeshift command post. Before he let them leave, though, he went to the trunk.
He removed a long leather case then tapped on the fender to send them off.
They were only there for surveillance and not privy to his agenda. The house across the street looked quiet, so Cogswell walked over and knocked on the door. No one answered so he picked the lock and went in. He quickly secured himself a position in front of the picture window. From his vantage point behind the high-powered-rifle-scope, he could see a flea if it entered Eva Smorzak's house--night or day.
* * *
Jack McDermott stumbled and sidestepped his way up the last few yards of the hill behind Eva's place. Winded, but not gasping for breath, he paused for a moment to collect himself. Not bad, he thought. Considering he had been in a coma just 48 hours earlier. Crouching low he bounded up to the back steps. Eva told him the key would be under a ceramic pot in the corner.
He found it and ducked inside.
Going straight to the window, he leveled his gaze out to the street. The unmarked sedan was gone. He reached in his pocket to get the number of Layton's office. Jonah would be worried. He picked up the phone and felt as if his legs had suddenly liquefied.
The line was dead.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Frank Bahr was just waking up from a two-hour nap in the front seat of the government Ford when his cell phone rang. He wrangled it out of his coat and flipped it open. "Bahr here."
"Where are you?" Cogswell asked.
"Right where you told me to be." He lied.
"Get over here now. I found the son of a bitch."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at that Smorzak bitch's house. Right across the street. In a brown chalet. Park up the street and walk down. I'll open the back door for you. I'm in the front. I'm not taking my eyes off her house. Just come in when you get here. And for chrissake, don't let anyone see you."
"I'll be there," Bahr said. He hung up, and then checked the clip in his revolver.
* * *
Jack McDermott felt like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Shit, they cut the phone lines! They know I'm here. Jack's heart began to pound. Think! He went to the windows and yanked the blinds closed. Looking out the last window, he spotted it.
The ambulance.
He wondered if there was any way to make a break for it without being seen. Impossible. It was twenty yards away and out in the open like a bull's eye. If they didn't know he was here, they surely would if he went outside. If those two thugs were still around, he could just ram them with it. It was a long shot, but it was the only chance he had. The only problem was keys. He could only hope in his haste, Jonah had left them in the ignition.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Denton Cogswell felt empowered as he gripped his weapon and waited for Jack McDermott. It was payback time. He would not have an inkling of regret as he took away Lloyd's only chance to survive. He and Lloyd had no love left between them. After Ritter left the CIA to join the Lloyd ticket, Cogswell felt certain he would be the next director. He was appointed acting director by Ritter until after the elections. Then, Lloyd had a different idea about who he wanted to run the agency. Lloyd wanted a politician to head the agency.
Charles Wade, an old friend, and former college roommate of the newly elected Lloyd, was his first choice. Wade, a former governor, and now state senator, fit the bill to a tee. Wade accepted without hesitation. He was a yes man and a liberal, just like Lloyd. With that kind of director, Lloyd thought he could avoid all the static and deceit that had plagued the previous administration, although Ritter, now his own Vice President, had been part of that deceit.
Meanwhile, Cogswell was out of a job. Lloyd's vision of the CIA was one of trust and cooperation between the White House and Langley. It had little to do with covert operations that Lloyd saw as a waste of resources, now that the Cold War was over.
This infuriated Cogswell, whose reputation for violence, played well during that time. Now, it had no place in the "new agency," as Lloyd so aptly called it.
Jack McDermott would die. Not because of any loyalty Cogswell had to Ritter; he had as much disdain for him as everyone else. Right now he needed Ritter. The idea of being Vice President appealed to him. Besides, who was to say that Ritter himself wouldn't meet with some unfortunate accident somewhere in the future, leaving Cogswell President?
Cogswell's megalomaniac thoughts stopped abruptly as Jack McDermott appeared in the picture window across the street. Feeling the familiar surge of warm adrenaline that accompanied the preparation for a kill, Cogswell peered through the scope and released the safety on the powerful .40 magnum rifle. McDermott went out of the sight for a moment and Cogswell cursed.
With calm, bred from countless executions, Cogswell wheeled in his emotions and waited. His target reappeared a moment later, and Cogswell refocused the scope.
Behind him, the sound of a door opening distracted him for a second. It's just Bahr. McDe
rmott was clear in his scope. Cogswell's heart slowed and he relaxed. It was one of the only times he ever did relax. The thrill of the hunt and the final seconds before the end of it. McDermott now looked so close in the powerful scope; Cogswell could swear he was in the next room.
He let out an easy breath and counted, "one, two, three."
Jack McDermott was still clear in the scope, "four, five," as he squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Seventy-Five
The bullet crashed through the crown of his head and it exploded into a fine pink mist.
Frank Bahr looked on as Cogswell collapsed to the floor like a marionette whose strings were cut. His rifle now covered with his own brains. Bahr holstered his weapon and leaned against the arm of a chair. He still had McDermott to deal with.
He went to the window, stepped over Cogswell and peered out across the street. He spotted McDermott immediately running across the side yard. Bahr bolted out the back door after him. He could see him move slowly, parallel to the woods and keeping in the shadows. He was in no mood to track him through the snow. Like a predator stalking his prey, Bahr kept him in sight till McDermott got to a clearing and stopped. Bahr dashed after his quarry and he was closing quickly. He thumbed the revolver in his jacket. Almost got him!
And then Bahr was there. He fingered the revolver and brought it out.
"That's far enough," Bahr said. "It's over. I'm not going to hurt you. Just turn around and walk toward me."
Jack turned, put his hands on his head, and walked toward the barrel of Bahr's .38. Five-feet away, Bahr told him to stop, then walked up and frisked Jack. Satisfied he wasn't armed, he lowered his gun.
Jack looked puzzled. "Who are you?"
"Right now I'm your guardian angel. There are some people after you.
Until a little while ago, I was one of them. Now I'm not."
"Why should I believe you?"
"I don't see that you have a choice. Besides, if I wanted you dead, you'd already be lying in the snow back there."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "No, you just want my heart, right?"
"Not me, but there are some who do. With my help, though, they won't succeed."
"Why do you want to help me?"
Bahr hesitated. "Let's just say it's personal."
"I don't get it," Jack said.
Bahr holstered his weapon. "Let me show you."
They walked back to the road with Jack in front. Bahr had assured him that if he took off, he was certain to be killed by the other people looking for him.
When they got to Eva's they crossed the street and Bahr led Jack into the house where Cogswell's body rested in a large pool of congealed blood.
"Jesus," Jack said.
"Not hardly," Bahr said. "Mr. McDermott, I would like you to meet Denton Cogswell. At least what's left of him. He was my boss, and in charge of killing you."
"So this is, Cogswell," Jack said, staring down at the body.
Bahr, now also got his first close up of Cogswell. He bent closer to look at the face, and then realized it was gone. The left eyeball was completely obliterated, while the right dangled from the socket like a ball on a tether.
Chunks of bone and tissue were splattered on the window in front of him. He saw McDermott take a deep breath and the color drain from his face.
McDermott tried to put his hand over his mouth, but it was too late. He vomited right onto Cogswell's corpse.
Bahr smiled. A fitting end for Cogswell. He handed Jack his handkerchief.
"Wipe your mouth."
Jack gazed at Frank Bahr. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"
Bahr reached into Cogswell's coat pocket and took his wallet. "See," recognize the name?
"Yes," Jack said. "That's the name Jonah told me about."
Bahr nodded. "Sounds like you and your friends have done your homework."
"I'm just trying to stay alive."
"All right, Mr. McDermott, let me explain this mess to you. Then we'll figure out how to keep you alive."
Chapter Seventy-Six
Jack stood motionless as Bahr confirmed everything Jonah had already told him. Bahr also told him the worst news of his life--Steve Charles was dead. Killed on Cogswell's order by a missile.
Jack was in a freeze-frame of disbelief at that moment. He wasn't sure if he even wanted help. Steve had sacrificed his life for him. Could he live with that? He knew though that Steve would want him to go on. Otherwise Steve's life would have been lost for nothing.
He and Bahr moved toward the door, when Jack hesitated. "Tell me something," he said. "What made you change your mind about this plan of theirs'?"
"I'd had enough of being under Cogswell's thumb. Besides, it just wasn't right. You happened to be in the wrong place. The agency is not discriminatory when it comes to an operation. They'll do anything to achieve their objective."
"That's the understatement of the century," Jack said, allowing himself a smile despite his despair.
Bahr continued. "Cogswell had me morally castrated to where I forgot the difference between right and wrong. This was my chance to finally put an end to it, and give that prick just what he deserved."
"I couldn't agree more," Jack said. "You saved my life."
"And my own in the process," Bahr said.
"How did you ever let him get so much control over you?"
"Cogswell was good at what he did. Intimidating people."
Too good, Jack almost said.
"Well, it's over. Now we just need to figure out how to get in to see the President, if he's even alive. He may be the only one who can stop this."
"That may be impossible," Jack said.
Bahr looked at Jack and raised his brow. "Maybe not."
They walked out the door and padded through the snow to Bahr's car. A metallic click got their attention.
"That's good, Frank. Now turn around."
Jack turned around long enough to see someone holding a gun to him and Bahr.
"What is this, Rye?" Bahr asked.
"Just following orders, Frank. Nothing personal."
"Orders from who?"
"Who do you think? Our boss, who else."
"Cogswell is dead, Rye."
"I don't believe you."
"I'll take you to him if you want."
"Yea I just bet you will. Enough talk, get away from the car and step over to the woods."
"Listen to me. Cogswell used you. Just like he used me for twenty years.
He didn't care about you or anybody else. Only himself. Anyway, it doesn't matter, he's dead, and this thing is over. I'm going to take, Jack here, in, and get this mess straightened out."
"Fraid not, Frank," Ryekoski said, screwing the silencer on his weapon.
"Rye, listen to me, it doesn't have to be this way."
"I have no choice. Orders are orders."
As if in a dream, Jack McDermott turned around and watched as another drama unfolded ten feet away.
The man with the gun turned toward a noise that had erupted behind them.
He never had time to react as the small car slammed into him with unimaginable force. The man went flying like a rag doll. He landed against a pine tree with a sickening crunch, his weapon still airborne. The car came to an abrupt stop and the hulking figure of Jonah Bailey climbed out from behind the wheel.
"Are you all right, Jack?"
"Yes, I'm fine, Jonah. How did you find us?"
"I saw your car abandoned down the road. I was headed to Eva's when I recognized that guy's car. Same one from the airport. Closer I got, the more I saw. When I saw the gun, well, I had to act."
"And act you did," Bahr said.
"Jonah," Jack said. "This is agent Frank Bahr, CIA. He's gonna try to get this nightmare straightened out."
"Pleasure to meet you, Agent Bahr. With all due respect, though, isn't the CIA the ones who started this whole mess?"
"Not exactly. It's much more complicated than that. In the interest of time, I'm sure you understand I c
an't explain it all now. I promise you I only have Jack's best interest in mind."
"Jack, are you sure about this?" Jonah asked.
"I'm not sure about anything anymore, but this is my best chance right now. By the way, is that guy dead?" Jack asked, looking at the heap by the tree.
Bahr looked over. "We don't have time to find out. We need to go. I'll send somebody after him."
"I'm going to go get Eva," Jonah said.
"That's a good idea," Bahr said. "She's still in danger till this thing is over. Get her and keep her safe. I don't want another death on my conscious."
"Don't worry; she's like a daughter to me. And Jack, if this doesn't work out, I have a plane ready to get you out of the country."
"I don't want to sound ungrateful, Jonah, but he says he can put an end to it once and for all. I'm tired of running."
"Are you sure you can trust him."
"I'll explain later, but believe me he's already proved himself."
"Okay, Jack, but if it doesn't work, get to Layton's office by seven o'clock. He'll take it from there."
"Bahr looked up. "I understand your doubt, Dr. Bailey. I think everything will work out fine. In the event it doesn't, you have my word I'll do everything I can to get him the hell out of here."
"Somehow I believe you, Agent Bahr."
* * *
Jonah Bailey had never killed anyone, but he had now. The man's body was twisted and mangled against the huge pine tree. Under the circumstances, he found it unavoidable. Still, maybe he could help him. After all, he was a doctor. He walked over to the man and carefully knelt down. One look told Jonah he was dead. Jonah certainly knew dead.
Jonah dropped to the ground and collapsed on the pine needles. For the first time in memory, Jonah felt tears well up. He shook them off. There would be time for emotion later; now he needed to get back to Eva.
As he studied the twisted body before him, his trained eye made it obvious blunt force trauma had killed him. Jonah pulled on the shoulder to turn him over. At that point he had a clear view of the details of that trauma. To the right of his nose, a large tree branch about six inches in diameter was lodged in the man's face. The branch, broken off previously to about eight inches had been sticking out from the trunk and when he landed it had impaled him through the base of his neck.