The Trust Of The People
Page 51
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Flores stood beside the mobile command centre smoking a cigarette. Not that he smoked, but he had desperately needed something to calm his nerves: one agent killed, six more injured. At the time the risks had seemed worthwhile, his concerns as to an FBI mole fully justified; now his decisions would be analysed and slowly pulled apart, Flores no doubt condemned for acting without proper authorisation and a more realistic evaluation of the dangers.
The final coroner’s van had only just left, two of McDowell’s men also killed. Seven others had been arrested, four on their way to hospital. Although the prime target of McDowell had managed to elude them, the capture of Carter and the farmhouse complex was a certain justification for Flores’ actions, but perhaps still a poor reward for the death of one of his men. What made it worse was the attitude of those captured: there was a certain amount of apprehension but no real fear, one even able to crack a joke at the FBI’s expense – something instantly regretted when the butt of an agent’s gun had ‘accidently’ connected with his stomach.
Whether the computer facility would prove more helpful than its human operators was as yet uncertain, Flores happy to leave it to the experts to tease out what they could. Cigarette finished, he ambled across to one of the terrorists’ SUVs, putting on gloves to take a look inside.
Anderson moved to watch him, hot coffee in hand. “There won’t be anything,” he said helpfully.
“There’s always something,” responded Flores testily. “You’re the expert on McDowell – what will he do now?”
“I can’t see him disappearing off just yet; there’s still too much left unfinished. He’ll be waiting to take advantage of this protest tomorrow and to do that he needs to stay close to Washington.”
“And you still think he’s setting everything up for a coup?”
“I’m not sure anymore; I can’t see how one could ever succeed without the army. The trouble with McDowell is you’re never quite certain what he’s after or who he’s working for. Dick Thorn is the obvious candidate, but maybe it’s someone else – even Cavanagh.”
“The President?” Flores stopped his search of the SUV and stared at Anderson, “Why would Cavanagh need someone like McDowell?”
“Unpopular president, no chance of a second term; throw in a conspiracy and an attempt on his life, and his popularity shoots up.”
“An attempt on his life?” questioned Flores sharply. “You think it’s more than just exhaustion?”
“Just repeating what’s on the Internet. I’m not really suggesting Cavanagh’s behind it, but with McDowell you can’t take anything at face value. If it’s not Thorn, they’ll be somebody else lurking in the shadows that gains out of this – that’s McDowell’s employer. Ask me again in a week and I might have a better idea who it could be.”
“Sadly, a week’s too long,” said Flores. “If Thorn gets more than a few hundred thousand marching through D.C. tomorrow, I guess we have a couple of days at most.”