CIA and the Nine Ball Tournament

by Nelson Lynch

there wouldn’t have been much loss of life and the bridge would have been cheaper to rebuild.”

  Runyard slid out a photo of the Bay Bridge. “So you agree with your husband that the Bay Bridge should be blown up.” He smiled up at Arbuckle awaiting her reply.

  “No, of course not. You’re trying to twist things. Jerry may have said that but so have half of the people on the Eastern Shore.”

  A soft ringing came from Arbuckle’s coat. He hurriedly opened his cell phone. “Arbuckle here.” He listened for a few minutes, nodding and grunting into the phone. He kept his eyes on Mrs. Pine the whole time. He grunted one last time and closed the phone.

  “It seems we have another very reliable source.” He grinned lewdly at Mrs. Pine. “Only this time it’s a female reliable source.”

  “Oh God, I’ll bet it was Ruthie. What did she have to say? She knows everything that happens in this town.”

  Arbuckle’s smile faded. “This female source swears that your husband and Mr. Smith left for Atlantic City seven days ago. They were going to play the slots.”

  “You got the wrong men. Smitty and Jerry would never play the slot machines. You’re guaranteed to lose playing those things. They’ll be playing cards or shooting pool. Smitty is the hustler.”

  Arbuckle ignored Mrs. Pine. “We’re checking all the casinos in Atlantic City. A sizable reward is going to be offered for any information leading to their arrest. All flights going to the Middle East six or seven days ago are being checked. Especially flights to Tehran or Damascus.”

  Colby slid another photo across the table. “Look at this one. Your husband is practicing making different types of fuses. He is hooking a dummy stick of dynamite to an alarm clock. He certainly doesn’t look like a card player to me.”

  Mrs. Pine brushed all the photos to the end of the table. “You are all crazy. Crazy as a bunch of loons. None of those pictures show Jerry or Smitty. In some of them there is not even the slightest resemblance. Why are you guys trying to implicate my husband and Smitty? Do you have a quota to fill by the end of the month? Is that it? Now you are playing catch-up with innocent people.”

  Arbuckle pointed at the pile of photographs. “What innocent people are you talking about? Your husband and this Smith traitor are guilty as sin of espionage against the USA. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t aid some of those terrorist from 9/11.”

  “I want to call my lawyer.” She looked at the wall phone hanging out of reach. “Then I’m going to call the ACLU and have every one of you idiots fired.” She pushed hard against the table, trying to get enough room to be able to stand. “Let me out so I can get to the phone. You guys are getting in deeper trouble the longer you keep me against my will.”

  Arbuckle grinned and shook his head. “The congress and the president passed the Patriot Act which gives me absolute authority in the field of protecting our country against terrorists like your husband and the other nut.” He reached in his pocket as his phone sent out a short burst of sound. “Arbuckle here.” He kept nodding and mumbling, “Good work. Keep after them. I want all of them in custody within twenty-four hours. Notify our agents to be on high lookout. Terrorist level orange for these guys.”

  He moved his eyes back to Mrs. Pine and slowly stroked his chin. “Well, well. It seems like we had two men and a woman get off in Tehran six days ago and two men and a woman five days ago. Our agents are absolutely one-hundred percent sure that one of those groups is your husband, Mr. Smith and his wife. From what we know right now, our agents are sure they left in the direction of Baghdad.” He thought for a few seconds. “Road conditions are terrible and train passage is nonexistent. I would say that right off hand, your husband and the other two traitors are very close to Baghdad. We will be ready for them.”

  Mrs. Pine folded her arm across her chest and leaned back. “You’re crazy. You’ve lost your minds completely. Jerry and Smitty are down at the pool room and Smitty’s wife is visiting her grandchildren down in the Carolinas.”

  “Look at this photo.” Runyard kept his hand on the photo so she couldn’t brush it away. “Your husband is aiming a large caliber machine gun at a low flying plane.”

  “A bunch of nonsense. In the first place, it’s not Jerry and then you can’t see what the gunman is aiming at. Why don’t you just admit you got these photos from your own photo shop? I bet you turn these out by the hundreds trying to snare innocent people.”

  “Here he’s holding ”

  She tried to brush it onto the floor. “I don’t want to see anymore of these fake photos. I want you guys to get out of here and leave me alone.”

  The third agent stood and motioned toward the stairs. “I have to use your bathroom.”

  Mrs. Pine shook her head vigorously. “No way, the bathroom is dirty and not for you guys anyhow.”

  The agent stood there. “I got to go. It can’t wait.” He looked at Arbuckle.

  Arbuckle nodded his head. “Go ahead and then look around. There may be a cache of AK47s in the bedrooms.”

  “You can’t search my house. Where’s your search warrant? The constitution protects home owners from over-zealous and lunatic officials. Stay out of our bedrooms.”

  Arbuckle shook his head and pointed at the stairs. “Do a good and thorough search. You guys may just get a commendation for this bust. It’ll look good on your records.” He grinned as the agent trotted up the stairs. He turned back to Mrs. Pine when his phone rang. “Arbuckle here, have you located these three traitors?” He grunted a few times. “You know exactly where they are?” He listened a few more seconds to the man in Baghdad. “If you know where they are, go get them. Send a Marine squad in.” He pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Speak clearer, your signal is breaking up.” He held the phone away from his ear.

  “What’s the matter, getting a lot of static?”

  Arbuckle ignored her and shook the phone. “Come on, call me again.” He tapped it lightly on the table. On cue, it rang again. “Arbuckle here, what going on?” His forehead furrowed in concentration. “Are you sure you know where they are staying? The exact house?” He listened a few more seconds. “OK, send in a squad of Marines. Get them out of there. I want them on a plane flying back here in a few hours.” A few more seconds went by. “You say it dark and too dangerous to go out on patrols of a night. Do you have a helicopter in the air right now?” He listened a bit. “OK, good. Have that helicopter put a smart missile right through the window. How soon can you have that done?” He listened only a second. “Ten minutes sounds good to me. Call me as soon as the job is done.” He clicked the phone and dropped it in his pocket.

  “What are you doing? You realize you are going to kill three innocent travelers. You don’t even know who they are. They haven’t done a thing except being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You are the one who should be taken out and shot.” She put her hands over her eyes and sobbed lightly.

  “You should be crying. Your traitorous husband and the other pair are spending their last ten minutes on Earth. They are lucky I didn’t capture them and intern them for life at Guantanamo Bay.”

  The kitchen was quiet for the next ten minutes, Runyard put all is photos in his briefcase. Arbuckle tapped his phone lightly against the table while Mrs. Pine wiped her eyes. The phone sounded abnormally loud.

  “Arbuckle here, what the message?” He waited a few second and began grinning. “A bull’s eye. You say the whole block is destroyed. Good work, I’ll put in a citation to your commander.” He dropped the phone in his pocket and nodded at Runyard. “Get all your stuff packed. We’ll go as soon as he comes down from the search. We’ll take her and hold as a possible enemy combatant.”

  “Come here, quick.” The man at the top of the stairs was pointing at Arbuckle. “Come here, I have something to show you.”

  Arbuckle wearily climbed the stairs. “What is it? We’re ready to go.”

  “Read this letter from Pine to his wife.

  Arbuckle read the letter and wipe
d the sweat forming on his forehead. “You mean they’ve actually been in Las Vegas for six days participating in a nine-ball tournament?”

  The agent nodded. “I called the casino and checked. This Smith guy won the tournament and won $25,000 dollars. The match was live on ESPN yesterday.” He nodded downstairs. “His wife didn’t see the letter and never missed him. She really thinks he’s at the local pool room.” He glanced downstairs at the woman. “Her memory is not very good.”

  Arbuckle wiped harder at the sweat. “We’re OK, just be quiet and deny everything.”

  “OK with me, but did you see when Pine is returning?”

  His hands shook holding the letter. “Holy cow, he’s returning at five today.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s five of five right now. Let’s get out of here, now.” He took the steps three at a time, yelling for Runyard at the same time. “Come on, we got to go. There’s an emergency at the airport. Let’s go, now. Leave her, we don’t need her any more.” The three men ran past a man on the sidewalk, jumped into a vehicle and spun a rooster tail of stones leaving.

  “Dear, who were those three men I just saw leaving our home?”

  “You’ll never believe it.”

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