The Liberty Covenant

by Jack Bowie

“Yes, that’ll be fine.”

  The waiter placed a silver tray with two steaming cups of coffee, two elegant salads, and a plate of assorted fruits on the small table.

  “Here, I’ll get it,” Braxton said reaching for his wallet.

  “Oh, no, Adam. It’s all business. This one goes to Vision One. Just put it on my bill, Willem.”

  “Of course, ma’am. Thank you. Good night.”

  She showed the waiter to the door then sat down at the opposite end of the sofa from Braxton. Taking a coffee cup in both hands she brought the hot liquid to her lips.

  “Umm. Just the thing for a night like this. Thanks for joining me.”

  “My pleasure,” Braxton replied as he reached for a plate. “Do you know everyone in Amsterdam?”

  She laughed. “You mean Willem? He’s on the evening shift most all the time. I’m embarrassed to say, but I end up having quite a few dinners alone in my room these days. There’s not much time for a social life.”

  “There must be lots of eligible men at Vision One.”

  “Oh, I guess. But they’re all working so hard they don’t even notice me.”

  Somehow Braxton found that hard to believe. Marino was a woman who looked attractive no matter what she wore. As she reached over for an apple, the front of her robe separated, revealing the sharp lines of delicate collarbones on smooth pink skin, and just a hint of a shadow beyond the vee of the opening. She seemed completely unaware of his observation.

  Braxton started on his salad. It was definitely more appealing than the fare at La Cochina.

  “How was your meeting today?” he said between bites.

  “Not bad. It was with some local magazine editors. I’m trying to get some pieces placed. Then they took me to a perfectly awful Mexican restaurant, of all places. We could hardly hear each other, and I just couldn’t eat anything. Where did you go?”

  Mexican restaurant? Could she have been at La Cochina? Was she just covering for a meeting with Slattery? “Ah, we went to an Indian place. Had some ristaffel. It was very good.”

  “They have great Indian food here. We should go together sometime.”

  He had to find out where she had gone for dinner. But how?

  “I hate to bother you, Sydney, but have you got any aspirin? I think today is finally taking its toll.”

  “Sure. I think. Let me check my bag.” She bounded up and went back into the bedroom.

  Braxton immediately headed for her purse. There had to be a receipt, a card, something. He opened the clasp and clawed through the contents: checkbook, compact, lipstick, credit cards.

  God, why do women cram so much in a purse?

  He gave up on the inside and checked the outer pockets.

  Here he found something. A matchbook. He picked it up and read the cover:

  Casa de Margarita

  Mexican Cuisine in the Heart of Amsterdam

  Not La Cochina. It wasn’t Marino. It probably wasn’t Slattery either. What’s happening to me?

  He unconsciously turned his head only to see Marino standing in the doorway, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. There was no question she had been there for some time.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. Her normally creamy cheeks glowed crimson with fury.

  “Sydney. I . . . I’m sorry. I thought . . .” His voice trailed off to a whisper.

  “You thought what? You could steal something from me?”

  “No! I wouldn’t do that. It’s Megan. I have to find out . . .”

  “Find out what? What did you expect to find in my purse?”

  The anger in her face frightened him. He had to calm her down. “I have to find out what happened.”

  “You know what happened,” she countered. “She was killed in San Francisco. It was a terrible accident. What does that have to do with my purse?”

  “Please. Come and sit down. I need to talk to you.” He motioned toward the sofa.

  Marino hesitated, threw the pills on the floor, and then slowly walked toward one of the arm chairs. Pulling the robe tight around her, she slipped down into the seat. Braxton returned to his spot on the sofa.

  “I’m listening,” she said flatly.

  “The real reason I came to Amsterdam was to find out about Vision One. I don’t believe Megan was killed by a thief. I think someone wanted her dead.”

  The grimace on Marino’s face softened. “Adam, it’s normal to deny something like this. But why blame it on Vision One? Why would they want to hurt Megan? She was one of their rising stars.”

  “I don’t know why. That’s why I’m here. But it has something to do with Ben Lawson’s death as well.”

  For the next five minutes, Braxton recited his story. Like a lawyer summarizing his case, he explained each of the points: his dinner with Megan, her questions about Lawson, and then the call from Lieutenant Cassidy. He described his trip to San Francisco, the missing answering machine messages, the search of Megan’s apartment, and finding Lawson’s letter. Finally he explained Megan’s hatred of violence and the incongruous defensive wounds.

  His only conclusion: that someone, someone at Vision One, killed Benjamin Lawson and Megan Connelly to keep a secret safe.

  “Alright,” Marino replied when he had finished, “I’m still not completely convinced, but let’s say I accept your argument. Why were you going through my purse?”

  What could he say? That he thought she was a spying on him? With a CIA agent? God, what a fool he was. He had to come up with a story.

  “I was looking for your ID.” It was as plausible as anything.

  “My ID? And what were you going to do with it? Dress up to look like me?”

  “I don’t know what I was going to do. I just have to get back into Vision One. To get into Lawson’s office. I thought maybe I could just flash your badge.”

  “Adam, you saw the way they run security. You’d never get past the front desk.”

  Was this the end? How would he ever find Megan’s killer now? Her stare burned through him. He dropped his head unable to meet her eyes.

  “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  He slowly raised his head. Had she really said that? “You’d go with me? You’d do that?”

  She pointed a perfectly-manicured finger at him. “Don’t get me wrong. I think you’re way off base. But I also know, or think I know, how much you loved Megan. If this will help you put her death to rest, I’m willing to help. She was a friend of mine, too.”

  “Then let’s go!” He jumped up from the sofa and headed for the door.

  “Now? It’s . . .” she looked down at a bare wrist.

  “It’s 8:30,” Braxton answered. “There shouldn’t be anybody else around by the time we get there.”

  “I suppose not. But can I get dressed first?”

  Chapter 35

  Tyler, Georgia

  Wednesday, 4:00 p.m.

  Holly leaned over the map spread across the old trestle table. He had gathered what was left of his staff at the farmhouse to explain the logistics for the next exercise this coming weekend. Two cells from up north were coming down to the farm for a series of mock attacks. Not as big as the Gathering, but it would still take them the rest of the week to prepare the sites and arrange for places for everyone to stay. With Dalton out sick, they could barely finish the preparations.

  And Holly knew he needed everything to go smoothly. There had been too many screw-ups already.

  “Are the trucks ready to go, Tommy?” he asked.

  “Yep, all set. I had the boys tighten the springs and rig the cargo covers.”

  “They don’t know what they’re for do they?”

  “Hell no, Macon. Those good ole boys‘ll do whatever I ask ‘em. Hey, I’m your Security Officer too, right? Ain’t nobody gonna mess us up while I’m on watch.”

  “Right, Tommy.” Wicks had become even more of a pain in the ass since his “promotion.” Holly worried that maybe he had made a mistake in letting him deeper into thei
r plans. “How about you Sean? Any problems getting enough ammo?”

  “A couple of the new boys are bringing their stashes. We’ll be fine on the rifles and sidearms. We’re a little short on light mortar rounds but we’ll get by. Can’t be tearing up that much of the countryside anyway.”

  “Okay, but keep track of what gets used. And make sure those shotgun conversions are ready.”

  As Holly rolled up the map he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he saw Gary standing in the doorway. He had not even heard him come in. What was he doing here?

  “Tommy, you’ve got to tighten up on security. The Feds are bound to be sneaking around now.”

  “I’ve got it covered, Macon. Ain’t nobody getting in that don’t belong.”

  It’ll be your ass if they do, you bastard.

  “Didn’t see much in the paper, Macon,” O’Grady said as they packed up. “Just that a fire burned down the courthouse. The others go okay?”

  “Went great,” Holly replied a little too loudly. “They’ll try to keep all the rest out of the newspaper for as long as they can, but we know better. Six attacks all at the same time. No, they can’t ignore us now.”

  “When do we go next?” Wicks asked.

  Holly glanced over to their visitor. “Don’t know. But after the last one, we’d better be ready anytime. Now y’all get back to town. We’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

  He waved the group away, nervous about the appearance of his benefactor. O’Grady left quickly, but Wicks lingered at the table. Holly figured he was going to try to cozy up to Gary. He had seen the two together, whispering in the shadows. Wicks thought Holly didn’t know the kid was bucking for a better job with the Commander. It would serve him right to get one.

  Gary finally gave up waiting and walked slowly over to the pair.

  “Macon, we need to talk,” he began.

  “Should I go?” Wicks asked, more to Gary than to Holly.

  “No, you can stay,” Gary replied. “Actually it affects you, too. You’re in charge of security now, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “What’s this about, Gary?” Macon didn’t like the man’s tone. And he really didn’t like Wicks hanging around. If there was trouble, he didn’t want it spread all over the cell.

  “Where’s Ricky, Macon?” Gary asked.

  Shit. It was about Dalton. “Couldn’t make it. Somethin’ came up at the bar.”

  “Funny. I heard he’d been sick.”

  “Just a little cough. Ain’t nothin’ important.”

  “I didn’t know Ricky was sick,” Wicks interjected. “How come you didn’t tell me, Macon?”

  Holly glared at Wicks and saw a veiled smirk on his lips. The little bastard.

  Don’t think I don’t know you were the one who told Gary. You’ll get yours yet.

  “So Ricky caught a bug,” Holly explained. “He went to the doc. It ain’t no big deal.”

  “The hell it isn’t,” Gary yelled slamming his hand on the table. “I told you to call me if anyone came down with anything. You know what we’re doing here on the farm.”

  Beads of sweat ran down Holly’s cheeks. He had heard Gary raise his voice before. It wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat. “Hey, take it easy. I said I’d tell you if anything funny happened. Ricky just caught a cold, that’s all.”

  “No, Macon. That’s not all.” This time both of Gary’s fists hit the table. The massive oak piece shook under the force. “You were given an order. I didn’t say ‘if you think it’s important.’ I said call me. And you didn’t. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  “I didn’t want nothing to happen to Ricky.”

  “That’s not your responsibility! And don’t you think it’s a little late to be getting morality? It didn’t bother you to kill Napes.”

  Why did he have to say that! Holly glanced over to Wicks and saw the shock on his face. How would he ever get out of this?

  “You’re incompetent, Holly,” Gary yelled. “You’re no good to the Covenant and you’re no good to us.”

  Gary’s voice was getting louder and louder. His head started to shake from side to side.

  “I . . . I’m sorry, Gary. I shoulda called. It won’t happen again.” Holly was scared. It was like the man was having some kind of fit. Even Wicks had shrunk back from the table, trying to distance himself from the exchange.

  “You’re goddamn right it won’t happen again, you stupid asshole. Why did I ever think you’d be able to pull this off?”

  “You can’t talk to me like that,” Holly exclaimed.

  “I can do anything I want, old man. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” Gary’s right hand flashed across his body and struck Holly square on his cheekbone. The older man spun back and had to grab the edge of the table for support.

  “Nobody does that to me!” Holly yelled. He licked his lips and tasted the salty sting of blood.

  “Well I do!” Gary replied. “I do anything I damn well want. You have a problem with that?”

  Holly didn’t know what to say. Gary had gone over the line. He was insane! Commander or no Commander this had to stop.

  “Nothing to say, you weak old homo?” Gary continued. “Well I’ve got lots more to say. Sure glad you got rid of Napes for me. Made it a lot easier.”

  Made what easier? He couldn’t mean . . .

  “What?” Holly cried.

  “That cute little Annie of yours. Now I can have her any time I want. She really likes the kinky stuff. Did you know that?”

  “Shut up you bastard!” Without thinking, Holly’s hand reached for his Colt.

  “Bad move, old man,” Gary whispered.

  * * *

  Wicks had never seen anyone move so fast. Before Holly could raise the weapon, Gary stepped into the militiaman, grabbed his arm, and spun, twisting the arm over his head. Then he yanked it down, levering it on his shoulder. Wicks heard a loud crack, and an ear-splitting scream as Holly’s elbow snapped, tearing the collateral ligaments and severing the ulnar nerve.

  Gary was still in motion, spinning back to face Holly, then burying the heel of his right hand in the man’s solar plexus. Holly was thrown into the stone wall of the fireplace. He hit with a crack and slid slowly down to the floor.

  When the whirlwind had finally stopped, Wicks looked up from his friend and saw Holly’s Colt in Gary’s hand. He had never even seen the exchange.

  Holly sat writhing on the pine floor, his right forearm dangling pathetically from a bloody elbow.

  “My god,” Holly groaned. “My arm, I can’t move it!”

  Gary kicked Holly in the stomach and turned toward Wicks.

  “No, Gary. No. I didn’t do nothing. I won’t tell anybody!”

  “What’s the matter, Tommy? I thought you were the tough guy.” Gary’s voice had returned to its ice-cold monotone. “It looks like your boss won’t be able to run the cell anymore. You interested?”

  “Sure, Gary. Sure. Whatever you want.” Wicks was barely able to control the tremor in his voice.

  “Good. I knew we could count on you. Now for your first assignment.” He tossed Wicks the Colt.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Finish the job, Tommy.”

  “Kill Macon? He’s my friend!”

  “He’s an impediment to the Covenant, Tommy. Do it.” Gary slowly turned back to face the quivering Holly. “I won’t tell you again.”

  Wicks looked at the gun, then down to Holly. He had known Macon Holly all his life. He was an old fool, sure, but Wicks didn’t hate him. The man would be a cripple the rest of his life. Why did he have to kill him?

  “Tommy, you can’t,” Holly pleaded.

  Wicks glanced back to Gary. He had the gun. The mercenary was six feet away, just looking down at Holly. It would be so easy. And then the nightmare would be over.

  As Wicks pointed the revolver, Gary turned his head and his hollow eyes took control of Wick’s thoughts.<
br />
  Holly was a fool. He hadn’t recognized the power that Gary had offered. Power to take charge, to make people do whatever he wanted. To get back at all those that had taunted him in the past. Wicks knew what he wanted. Now he would have it.

  The shot erupted into an avalanche of sound in the small room. He pulled it again. And again. Until the only sound was the click of the pin against an empty chamber.

  Holly’s body lay frozen on the floor in an expanding pool of dark liquid.

  The silence of the aftermath was as frightening as Gary’s outburst. Wicks felt like he had been turned to granite. What had he done? What was he getting into?

  “Good job, son,” Gary said softly. “I knew you were the leader we needed. First, get this cleaned up. No use in upsetting his family. Make it seem like an accident.”

  Wicks managed to get his mouth to move. “Yes. Sir.” He slid one foot along the floor.

  “It’s Gary, son,” he said with a frightening smile. “You’re part of the family now.”

  “Yes sir, uh, Gary.” Wicks actually took a step.

  “Now about this Dalton. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know.” Gary’s smile disappeared. “But I can find out. He’s probably at home.”

  “Good. He needs to be isolated, Tommy. Forever. We can’t let him contact anyone else.”

  Jesus. He had gone to high school with Ricky. They had been on the football team together. But if he really was sick. “Okay.”

  “The doctor. You know who he is?”

  “Doc Flaherty. He’s got a clinic over in Cypress.”

  “Find out if he talked to anyone. Then take care of him. And his records.”

  “How am I gonna do that?”

  Gary took a single step toward Wicks. “You’ve been telling me you’re such a clever fellow, Tommy. You figure it out. You can do it, can’t you?”

  Wicks knew there was only one answer possible. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “Very good, son.” Gary moved the rest of the way to Wicks and rested his arm on the younger man’s shoulder. It felt like an iron millstone.

  “You’re a very important part of the Covenant now, Tommy. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “No, sir. Gary. I sure won’t.”

  Gary motioned to the table. “Good. Now let’s talk about this weekend’s exercises.”