by L.T. Ryan
* * *
It took twenty minutes to reach the Lincoln Memorial, which meant we had twenty some odd minutes to hang back. This was a great place for people watching. Didn’t matter who they were, the Lincoln Memorial, of all places, had the ability to have a profound effect on its visitors.
I checked my watch and saw it was about time. “Let’s go.” We walked up three sets of stairs, staying to the right and stopped on the fifth step to the top. I leaned back against the handrail. An older woman gave me a look for blocking the railing, so I stepped to the side and let her pass.
“Wonder what this guy looks like,” Bear said.
“Look for a suit.”
“That’s about twenty percent of the crowd.”
“He’ll find us. Relax.”
“Like hell I will. You don’t know who he might bring with him.”
“Not by his tone, Bear.”
Bear said nothing.
I scanned the incoming crowd looking for the mental image I had of the man I had spoken with on the phone forty minutes ago. A few people had the look, but weren’t quite right. Then I spotted him.
“There,” I said, my arm outstretched pointing to the base of the stairs. He stuck out like a sore thumb among all the tourists. And being that it was past lunchtime, a Fed this close to the memorial just didn’t make sense.
“Who?”
“Silver and brown hair, a little thin on top, glasses. Kind of mousy looking, but in pretty good shape for his age.”
“Got him,” Bear said. “Tell you what,” he looked back at me, “I’m going to hang back a bit. OK?”
“Good idea.”
I kept my eyes focused on the middle aged man ascending the steps. He reached the middle of the longer stretch of sand colored stairs and looked up in my direction. He scanned the area and fixed his stare on me. He gave me a slight nod as he came to a stop.
I nodded back and checked the area around him, looking for any sign of a threat. I assumed he did the same.
He started in my direction again. He stopped two steps below me. He looked past me, said, “Neil Delaney.”
I grabbed his hand and shook it. “Noble.”
He nodded. “I’ve heard of you.”
“I can’t imagine that’s a good thing.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Big man back there is Bear. Riley Logan.”
Delaney looked over my shoulder and acknowledged Bear. Then he held out his arm and said, “Let’s move to the back.”
We walked up the remaining stairs, turned right and took a path that led us behind four huge columns, stopping behind the fourth. There, we huddled close together.
“Any place less public we can go?” I asked.
Delaney shook his head. “This is the best place. For now.” He looked over his shoulder. “Less chance something will go down here. Got it?”
“Yeah,” I said. Paused and then added, “I got it.”
“So you two are part of the operation, huh?”
I leaned back against the thick column, crossed my arms over my chest and nodded. “What do you know about it?”
Delaney hiked his shoulders, cocked his head. “A bit. CIA sponsored. They take Marines out of basic—”
“Recruit training,” Bear interrupted.
“Yeah,” Delaney said. “Whatever. Take fresh recruits,” he looked at Bear and paused a second, “and then put them through their spec ops training. Turns you into well rounded operators that they can blame crap on when someone else screws up. You’re crazy enough for the job, ‘cause let’s face it, you wouldn’t have enlisted in the Marines unless you were crazy to begin with.” He smiled and batted his eyes between us.
We didn’t smile back.
“Yeah, well, anyway, so they get you before you’re done. Before you’ve been completely brainwashed into that bullshit oorah culture. That was one of their initial design flaws. The first group to come through had been through basic, uh, recruit training and A school. They were Marines and it caused problems when you had a dick of a spec ops team leader. They scrapped the first wave. You guys were part of the next bunch. They hit the jackpot with you two and the others that came through around the same time. From 95 through early 2001 you pretty much handled domestic stuff that the CIA couldn’t legally touch,” he waved his hand in a semi-circle for emphasis, “and occasionally a friendly nation. You always traveled two by four, two of you, four of them. You spent some time in South America. Columbia, if I’m not mistaken?”
I nodded. He had done his research, or was more involved in this than Abbot let on.
He continued. “Then the attacks happened and you were re-prioritized. Almost all of you were shifted from here and friendlies to the Middle East. I’d say eighty percent of you guys went to Afghanistan chasing Bin Laden and the Taliban. But not you, though. You’re in Iraq, right?”
I nodded again.
“So over there you’re—”
“Look,” I said. “I appreciate the history lesson, but we got a situation going on here. Someone is setting us up and we don’t know who. We go through Abbot and Keller in the Marines and then to the CIA. It’s not Abbot. It’s not Keller. So it must be someone in the CIA. Can you help?”
He took a deep breath, held it a moment and then exhaled loudly, letting his lips flapped as his puffed out cheeks decompressed. “I can’t say much more than I have. Not here.”
“Who are you with?” I said.
Delaney flashed a crooked smile as he held out his arms and shrugged.
“You’re not CIA, not the way you referred to the program being sponsored. Definitely not FBI. We wouldn’t be talking to you if you were.”
Delaney chuckled and shook his head vigorously.
I continued. “NSA?”
He continued shaking his head. “No, Jack. Not CIA, FBI, or NSA. Look, who I’m with isn’t important. The information I have is what’s important.”
“Then let’s have it.”
“Not here, Jack. I guarantee you they are out there, watching us right now. They’ve probably been watching every move you’ve made since leaving Camp Lejeune.”
I fought the urge to look around. It appeared Bear was doing the same. I saw him cast his stare toward the ground.
“Give me an idea of what it is then,” I said.
“I’m not quite sure what it is. Well, I wasn’t sure. I think I know now. What I can tell you is there is some shady stuff going on, guys. Very shady. I have some documents for you.” He paused. “I didn’t know what I was looking at until today. Not till your call. You mentioned Abbot and everything came to me. I uncovered this stuff not too long ago. But it didn’t make sense. Got it?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t got it.”
“It’s going to make sense tonight.” He took a few steps backward. “Wait for my call. Tonight, Jack. I’ll bring the documents you need.”
I watched him go down the stairs, then cut diagonally across the mall and disappear out of sight.
“Ready to go?” Bear asked.
“Nah,” I said. “Let’s wait a few. Find a good tourist group to assimilate into.”
Bear laughed loudly. “I’m six-six, you’re six-two. We don’t assimilate anywhere we go, Jack.”