The Hit wr-2

by David Baldacci

  Tucker’s face turned red and a vein near his temple swelled. “Team up to do what exactly?” he barked.

  “To do what needs to be done. There is something going on, sir. I realized it even before Jacobs and Gelder were killed. We’ve had infiltrations at the agency. Robie knew this too. Trusted people who it turned out were working against us.”

  “We believed that to be isolated. And resolved, Roger,” Tucker said in a calmer tone.

  “Maybe we believed wrong.”

  “So you’re saying it’s something more than a few bad apples, then?”

  “Conspiracies are supposed to be relegated to popular fiction. However, it’s surprising and a little distressing how often they show up in real life.”

  Tucker suddenly looked tired. “We are ill-equipped to handle broad-based conspiracies, Roger. Particularly from inside our own tent.”

  “Which is why perhaps Robie and Reel have a shot at this. By working from the outside in.”

  “If they do that, we have no way of deploying assets on their behalf. They’re on their own.”

  “With all due respect, sir, that’s exactly how they’ve been operating their whole careers here. On their own with no cover, no backup.”

  “So maybe they’re ideally suited to crack this thing,” Tucker said slowly.

  “I wouldn’t bet against them,” said Blue Man with confidence.

  “So you really think Gelder and Jacobs were traitors to their country?”

  “I can’t say they’re not.”

  “And there are others?”

  Blue Man shrugged. “Things are still happening and Gelder and Jacobs are dead. They could have had nothing to do with the attack on DiCarlo.”

  “What about the attack on Roy West in Arkansas? What was that about?”

  “I don’t know, sir. But from the carnage I wouldn’t discount the possibility that both Reel and Robie were there.”

  “What could possibly be the connection? I’ve looked at West’s record. He was a nothing. Hardly left a mark here. And then he was canned for what amounted to being stupid and lax with security measures. Do you think Reel and Robie know of some connection?”

  “If they don’t I think they can find out.”

  Tucker sat back, looking doubtful. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Me too,” said Blue Man under his breath. “Me too.”

  Chapter 65

  “Hello, congressman,” said the woman as she walked past, her small dog straining on a leash in front of her. “I saw you on TV the other night.”

  Howard Decker stood on a path at the park near his home. He was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt, loafers and no socks. He had donned a light windbreaker because the evening skies promised rain. He held a leash with his big Labrador Bruin tethered to the other end.

  He nodded and smiled at the pretty woman as she walked past. “Thanks. Have a good evening,” he said. He liked being recognized. It was a nice taste of celebrity that fed his ego.

  He watched her go, appreciating her tall, slender figure, tight skirt, and the way her blonde hair swirled around her shoulders. He was very comfortable with his wife, but he had never been able to cure himself of his roving eye. And his exalted position in Washington made him a plum target for a variety of sophisticated, accomplished, and attractive women.

  He sighed contentedly. Not a bad life. He was wealthy from his past business successes, in relatively good health, with many years in politics ahead of him. His wife was suitably supportive but not eager to grab the limelight from him. She didn’t often travel with him, which allowed him the latitude for the occasional dalliance in his hotel room with a young staffer.

  His children were young and well behaved. They would have good lives. They looked up to their father. He was popular with his constituency and his district had been redrawn to make him election-proof. That allowed him to spend less time fund-raising and more time plotting his political aspirations. Yes, all in all, he led quite a satisfactory life.

  There was only one major problem, but it overshadowed all of the positives. He had long since regretted becoming a part of a plan that was spiraling out of control. But his position as chairman of the Intelligence Committee had made him a pivotal player in a scheme so grand it had taken Decker’s breath away the first time he was approached about it.

  He was an old-school believer in national security. Nothing trumped that. He had been in New York during 9/11 and had seen the towers collapse. He had run along the streets with thousands of other terrified people as the dust and debris and bodies rained down. He had told himself never again would something like that happen to his country. Not if he had anything to say about it. And he did, more than most people.

  And that was why he’d agreed to be part of this colossal plan that, if successful, would right the power balance in the world, bringing it back to where it needed to be to create global peace. He’d thought it a huge, perhaps career-ending risk, but a goal well worth that risk. He had worked behind the scenes to secretly authorize the movement of personnel, equipment, and funds to enable this to happen. Just about everything the Intelligence Committee did was secret, from the funds deployed to the operations on which the members were briefed. Thus he had been in a unique place to assist the plan. He had felt honored to be part of it. He had felt immensely patriotic, particularly as he watched brave young Americans die every week in foreign lands, many of them killed by the very people they were fighting to protect and training to defend themselves. It was a horrendous situation that couldn’t be allowed to continue.

  But things hadn’t gone smoothly or cleanly. Problems had cropped up almost immediately. His partners in this venture, principally Sam Kent, had handled these far better than he had. They were used to mistakes resulting in the loss of human life. But Decker was not accustomed to such things. They scared him. And the more they occurred, the more scared he became.

  He had come to the park tonight to walk his dog simply to get away from these thoughts, if only for a few minutes. But he couldn’t escape them, not even with big, happy-faced Bruin licking his hand and wanting to play.

  Decker was especially afraid of Kent. When the man had said he’d killed a potential assassin, Decker knew that the man was not exaggerating. He had killed the man. And it had been a clear warning to Decker not to step out of line.

  He had no intention of crossing such men. He’d seen what they were capable of doing. As the chair of the Intelligence Committee he was far more privy to clandestine operations than the average congressperson.

  He knew about the Special Activities Division within CIA that utilized the resources provided by people like Jessica Reel and Will Robie. He knew how skilled they were at their work. He’d been briefed on their missions. He’d seen photos of the bodies that resulted from those missions.

  His phone buzzed.

  He looked at the screen and groaned. It was him.

  He hesitated, thinking he wouldn’t answer, but he did. He was afraid not to.

  But then his courage bucked up.

  He was the chairman of one of the most powerful committees in Washington. He had leverage. He had strength. He could play hardball with these folks.

  He clicked the button.

  “Hello?”

  Sam Kent said, “We need to meet.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve seen the story about the train?”

  “What about it?”

  “It was Reel and Robie.”

  “How?”

  “That’s not important. They’ve teamed up. Without a doubt.”

  Decker swallowed nervously and held tightly to the leash as Bruin started to go after a squirrel. “The last time we spoke you didn’t think that was a real possibility. You said they might have been at the center of what happened in Arkansas, but you weren’t convinced they were in this together.”

  “Well, the simple answer to that is, I was apparently wrong.”

  “That is not a good en
ough answer, Sam. I’ve risked everything for this. Everything.”

  “And you don’t think I have?”

  “You as good as threatened me the last time we met.”

  “I know. I apologize for that. I’m under unbelievable pressure.”

  “And you don’t think I am?”

  “We have to stick together on this. I’ve been given an ultimatum. I have to find Reel and Robie and eliminate them.”

  “Okay. But how?”

  “I’ll need your help.”

  “Me? What can I do?”

  “You’re the chairman, Howard. There’s a lot you can do.”

  “Okay, okay, just calm down.” He thought for a minute. “I certainly can get information about the agency’s reaction to this recent development. They may have a line on the two.”

  “That’s exactly what we need, Howard. We have to piggyback on the agency’s pursuit of Reel and Robie. If you’re not read in over there on it, get read in on it. Push for answers. Push for the ultimate solution. Tell them you want to be kept apprised of every step. If they’re located and a strike team is sent in you want to know ahead of time.”

  “So you can send in your team?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But why not just let the agency personnel do it? It’s cleaner that way.”

  “Because they might just take them alive. And then they can talk, Howard.”

  “You… you think they know things that might lead—”

  “That might lead right back to us. Yes, I do. We’re on Reel’s list. At least I am. And I would be stunned if you weren’t. We’ve talked about this before. Neither of them can be allowed to come in alive. You have to get the agency to lead us to them. That way we can end it quick and relatively clean.”

  “But if I tip you off they might suspect my involvement.”

  “Think, Howard, think! They want this put to bed as much as we do. This is a black eye for them. They will cover this over with so much dirt no one will ever get to the truth of it. Now, can I report back that you’re in?’

  Decker didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Absolutely. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Thanks, Howard. You won’t regret this. Let’s meet at my office tomorrow morning around seven. We can discuss further details. Time is really of the essence.”

  Kent clicked off and Decker slowly put the phone back in his pocket.

  He was shaking. He was actually shaking with fear and doubt.

  But I will get through this. I will survive this.

  The little dog was running toward him, its leash trailing behind it. Decker saw the same young woman racing to catch it. He shot out a hand and snagged the leash.

  Breathless, the woman ran up and stopped next to him.

  He held up the leash. “That’s your exercise for tonight,” he said.

  “Thank you so much.”

  “What’s your name?” He ran his eye over her figure. He couldn’t help himself.

  “Stacy. The little guy there is Darby.”

  “Hello, Darby,” said Decker, bending down to pet him. “Do you live around here?” he asked, rising back up.

  A gun was pointed at his face.

  “No,” said Stacy. “And neither do you anymore.”

  She fired and the suppressed round slammed into Decker’s face. He dropped where he stood, dead before he hit the dirt.

  The woman walked off with her dog.

  Chapter 66

  Robie stood on the crowded Metro train holding on to an overhead handrail. He wore sunglasses, a ball cap pulled low over his forehead, and a hoodie for extra concealment.

  The train pulled into the next station and stopped. Robie didn’t react when the woman boarded. He kept his gaze partially downcast, but his peripheral vision was firmly on her.

  For her part, Nicole Vance didn’t react when she saw Robie. The only reason she recognized him was because he had told her what he would be wearing, which train car he would be on, and where he would be standing in that car.

  She took her time working her way over to him. Most people around them were reading e-books, surfing on their electronic devices, listening to music through earbuds, or simply dozing in their seats.

  She stopped next to him and grabbed a handrail. In a low voice she said, “How are you?”

  “A little stressed.”

  “I can understand that. The stuff that happened on that train?”

  He nodded.

  “How did you get away?” she whispered.

  “Jumped.”

  She flinched. “Alone?”

  He shook his head.

  “Who?”

  He shook his head again.

  She looked at him stubbornly. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “And I’m trying to keep you safe. Do you have it?”

  She gazed at him sternly for another moment and then took the newspaper out of her bag. She pretended to read the front page. As the train picked up speed she unfolded the paper. Taped to it was a USB stick. The way it was positioned, only Robie could see it. With a swipe of his hand he slipped the stick into his pocket.

  He turned to leave, but Vance gripped his elbow. Robie looked at her cautiously. He was afraid she was about to blow everything.

  She mouthed two words:

  Kick ass.

  He nodded curtly, turned, and weaved his way through the passengers. As the train entered the next station he drew close to the door. As he was exiting he looked over at Vance. She was staring off. But Robie could read her mind.

  She doesn’t believe I’m going to survive this.

  And if I’m honest with myself, neither do I.

  Robie rejoined Reel in her rental car. As she drove through the streets, he used a laptop to scroll through the files Vance had given him.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “Vance got me all she could find on suspicious movements overseas, heightened threat alerts. Upgraded military preparedness. Unusual chatter in the usual places.”

  “And?”

  “There’s some strange sub activity in the Atlantic. We’re sending a few more ships to the Persian Gulf, probably to do with Iran. And there was a surprise naval exercise in the Pacific. But that’s all on our side. I’m not finding anything that might be what we’re looking for, meaning unusual movement by our enemies.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Wait a minute,” Robie said sharply.

  He scanned down a page. “I remember seeing this on TV a while back, but that was before I knew about any of this so I didn’t make the connection.”

  “What is it?”

  “The president is going to Ireland for a conference on terrorism.”

  “So?”

  “It’s not just the president.”

  “Okay, who else will be there?”

  He looked up. “All the leaders of the G8. The Godfather scenario is a lot easier to play out if all of them are in the same place.”

  “But, Robie, think of the security they’ll have there. Locked down tighter than anything else on the planet. There is no way they can hit that. No way.”

  “After 9/11, I refuse to say anything is impossible.”

  “But you said the president will be there. He’s not part of the target.”

  “According to West’s paper he wasn’t. That doesn’t mean they’re sticking to the paper in every detail. Maybe they want to nail him too.”

  “I get the bad guys coming after us. But why in the hell would people inside our government want to kill the president? And I still don’t understand why they would want to kill the G8 leaders.”

  “They’re traitors. Maybe they were just paid off. It happens.”

  Reel didn’t look remotely convinced. “But this is not some gundown in the street, Robie. This is global meltdown. If they are being paid off, where are they going to spend their money? They have to live on the planet too. It makes no sense.”

  “You’re the one who believes that this white paper West wrote is at the
center of this whole thing. If you no longer think that, I need to know, right now.”

  “I do still believe it.”

  “Because of Joe Stockwell?” he said.

  She nodded, blinking slowly. “Yes.”

  “Who did he get close enough to in order to figure this out?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did. He sent me enough details for me to know what was going on. He sent me the names on the list. He told me what they were planning to do based on that paper, at least as much as he knew of it.”

  “Did he send you the paper?”

  “No. I got that from another friend of mine who tracked it down.”

  “Nice to have friends.”

  “So do we go to Ireland?”

  “If that’s where the hit is going to take place, I don’t see an alternative.”

  “How about we tell Vance our suspicions? She can send word up the line.”

  “They’re not going to take any action without meeting her sources. And she can’t tell them it’s us without getting herself arrested. Same reason we can’t do it. So that’s a no-go,” said Robie.

  “You have a fake passport the agency doesn’t know about?”

  “Of course,” said Robie.

  “Then maybe it’s time to head to Ireland.”

  Robie looked down at the screen once more. “Maybe it is.”

  “I would like to check one other thing, Robie.”

  “What’s that?”

  She picked up her phone. “The friend.”

  “Where is this friend? And can he or she be trusted?”

  “Yes, he can. And he works at the mall.”

  “The mall? Doing what?”

  “He’s a whiz at video games. Among other things.”

  “What can he find out for us?”

  “The real name of Roger the Dodger. Because that son of a bitch is going to die and I’m going to pull the trigger.”

  Chapter 67

  There were five men in the room:

  Evan Tucker.

  Blue Man.

  Gus Whitcomb, the APNSA.

  The director of the FBI, Steve Colwell.

  And the president of the United States.

  The president said, “Any leads on who killed Howard Decker?”