Michaels returned to reality as he stepped into the meeting room where he found J.D. Blunt waiting on a small couch against the wall. Blunt stood to shake Michaels’s hand before the president gestured for his guest to have a seat.
“Thanks for coming on such a short notice,” Michaels said. “You know I wouldn’t drag you down here like this unless it was important.”
Blunt nodded. “Of course. So, how can I be of assistance to you?”
Michaels tossed the folder he’d been handed at the fundraiser onto the table. “Everything you need to know is contained in those documents.”
Blunt scowled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir.”
“I got that while I was at a campaign event at Bobby Van’s last night. Just open it up and take a peek.”
Blunt scanned through the pages, his eyes widening every few seconds. It’s just how Michaels felt when he read all the way through it the first time without Bethany looking over his shoulder. She surely had her own secrets, but none like this.
When Blunt finished, he took off his glasses and looked up at Michaels. “Is this true?”
Michaels nodded. “Every last word of it.”
“So, just to be clear, these aren’t unfounded accusations? Someone could prove that you did this?”
“You saw the pictures, J.D. It’s plain as day. Cameras don’t lie.”
Blunt sighed and then bit down on the temple tip of his spectacles. “What are you going to do about this? This is blackmail.”
“Sure it is, but the last thing I want before an election is something like this hanging over my head.”
“You’re in a catch-22,” Blunt said. “If you give in, you may stave off any public humiliation now, but who’s to say this person won’t release the information anyway at a later time for a big October surprise?”
“That’s why I’m turning to you for help,” Michaels said. “I want your team to handle this discreetly for me. There’s no way I want this on any public record ever.”
“We’re stretched a bit thin at this point, sir.”
“I don’t care. I need you to do something about this immediately. This should usurp anything that you’re working on.”
“With all due respect, sir, you don’t understand,” Blunt said. “There’s a rogue agent on the loose who has a wealth of information that could collapse the intelligence community both here and abroad. If we don’t catch him—”
“If this is exposed, what will it matter? People will lose all confidence in the federal government.”
“The American people are a forgiving bunch,” Blunt said. “If you apologize—”
“I’ll be cancelled, done for, vanquished. The American people will turn on me like a school of piranhas in a feeding frenzy. The optics are bad.”
“What really happened that night?”
“It wasn’t like what’s portrayed in this file. But that won’t matter when the images are flashed on television screens across the country.”
Blunt sighed. “Fine. I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”
“I’m going to acquiesce to the demands, whoever they are.”
“They asked for you to release an inmate in a supermax prison in Colorado,” Blunt said. “And you’re going to do it?”
“Complying will buy me some time,” Michaels said. “That’s where I need your help.”
“What do you have in mind exactly?”
“I want your team to track this prisoner. Whoever Tony Acworth is and whatever he did, Firestorm needs to know about it. Work up an extensive profile on him. You have to figure out why someone would want to release Acworth. What did he do? What are his special skills? I highly doubt this is some altruistic endeavor just to get Acworth out of custody.”
“I agree. This can’t be a ploy simply to spring him from supermax. I’ll allocate two agents to watch Acworth. Where do you expect him to go?”
“Back home, of course.”
“And where’s that?”
“A little town in Pennsylvania called Bedford Springs.”
CHAPTER 19
Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania
TWO DAYS LATER, Black and Shields pulled into Bedford Springs, ready to begin surveillance on Acworth. The convicted murderer was set to arrive home that evening, but the two agents wanted to talk with some of the people in town about him first. And while the assignment initially started out as a favor to President Michaels, a closer look at Acworth’s past revealed a startling discovery: he worked for the CIA and was stationed in Kabul at the same time Wellington was there.
While the Firestorm team didn’t have solid proof that Acworth was tied to Preston Vogle, Black found it difficult to believe that this was a mere coincidence. Shields and Blunt both agreed and sought evidence to verify the link.
Black came to a stop just outside the Acworth family business, a welding shop on the outskirts of town. He scanned the area for a moment.
“Just look at this,” he said. “How does a guy go from welding in a place like this to working for the CIA virtually overnight? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Let’s go get some answers,” Shields said.
They got out of their car and entered a cramped office at the front of the building. A bespectacled woman seated at a desk didn’t look up at them as they entered.
“Be with you in a minute,” she said, her gaze fixated on her computer monitor.
Black looked around the room, which was cluttered with paperwork on the counter and the woman’s desk behind it. The two blue chairs that served as the waiting room had exposed padding through several slits in the vinyl. Beneath his feet on the concrete floor, Black felt a layer of grime. He decided to remain standing until the woman addressed them. One glance at Shields’s face let Black know that she was feeling the same way about the dingy office.
The woman pounded away on her keyboard for a few more moments before standing up.
“Now, what can I help you folks with today?” she asked as she pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“We were wondering if we could speak with John Acworth?” Black asked.
“Is this a sales visit? Because he doesn’t take those.”
“No, we wanted to speak with him about Tony,” Shields said.
The woman cocked her head. “Tony? How do you know about my brother? Where are you from?”
“We’re from the Federal Bureau of Prisons’ resettlement team,” she said. “We want to ensure that Tony will land in a good situation with the opportunity to succeed and carry on his rehabilitation.”
The woman smiled. “Well, I’m Kay Acworth, and I can reassure you that Tony is in good hands. We’re a close-knit family and will make sure he stays on the straight and narrow, if you know what I mean.”
Shields offered her hand. “Megan Turnbull, and this is my colleague Brad Coleman. We appreciate you taking some time to chat with us.”
“Let me go get my dad,” Kay said. “I’m sure he’ll have something to say. He always does.”
She returned shortly with John in tow. As he lumbered into the room with a welder’s helmet tucked under one arm, he removed his gloves.
“Mr. Acworth, I’m Megan Turnbull and this is Brad. We’re with the Federal Bureau of Prisons and wanted to check in with you ahead of Tony’s release today.”
John grunted and nodded. “You need me to sign something?”
“No,” Shields said. “We just want to make sure you can provide Tony the home he needs to be successful as he reintegrates into everyday life in society.”
“He should’ve never been pulled out of society because he never did anything wrong,” John said.
“With all due respect,” Black said, “that’s not what the courts ruled.”
John huffed. “Tony was set up from the start. That senator just wanted someone to blame so he could direct all his anger at them. But Tony wouldn’t hurt anyone. If anything, he was rushing into danger to save his friends.”
“Th
at’s something he did regularly?” Black asked.
Kay perked up. “He once yanked a man twice his size out of Red Oak Lake and resuscitated the guy on the shore.”
“Yeah,” John said. “That’s just how Tony is. I begged him to play football, but he wouldn’t because it was too violent. I just can’t stress enough to you how bogus that conviction was.”
“Fortunately for you and your son, he’s been given a reprieve,” Shields said.
“It should’ve never come to this,” John said. “They never even found that young woman’s body. For all we know, she’s still alive somewhere.”
Black nodded, trying to be as empathetic as possible. “If that’s the case, I’m glad he’s getting a fresh start before his entire term was served.”
“He would’ve died in prison,” John said. “He just wanted to live his life, but some fast-talking senator with a team of lawyers and endless resources threw a wrench in Tony’s plan. He paid a steep price, but I have no doubt he’ll come back stronger than ever. He’s been through a lot, you know.”
Shields glanced at her notes. “As Tony is readjusting to normal life again outside of supermax, is there anything that you foresee being an obstacle for him becoming a productive member of society again?”
John shook his head. “He’s ready to start his job tomorrow when he gets back.”
“That’s quick,” Black said. “We usually recommend at least a month or so to get acclimated with societal and technological changes before jumping back into the workforce.”
“Well, that’s the kind of guy Tony is. He’s not one to sit on his hands and try to figure it out from afar. He’s going to stick his nose—and his hands—in the middle of everything and try to see what’s going on. He prefers to get the knack of things by experiencing them rather than studying them first.”
“What about his time in the CIA?” Black asked.
“What about it?” John fired back.
“Do you feel like that poses any problem for him to adjust to life today?” Black asked, pressing the question again.
“He was welding pipes at embassies overseas,” John said. “I hardly see the relevance here.”
“Okay,” Shields said. “If there is anything you think might cause concern, please let us know. We’re here to help.”
John took the card and shook his head. “Sure you are. You’re both probably too young to remember when President Reagan said, ‘The most terrifying words in the English language are: I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.’”
Shields shrugged. “We’re just doing our job, which is supporting former inmates when they return to society. We want Tony to become a productive citizen as soon as possible. And if there’s anything we can do to make that happen, please contact us.”
“Thank you for stopping by,” John said. “I’m sure we can handle it from here.”
Black and Shields thanked the Acworths for their time and then headed back to the car.
“What’d you think of that?” Shields asked.
“Sounds like they pinned a murder on the wrong guy,” Black said.
“Every family says that,” Shields said. “Have you ever seen the interview of neighbors after they catch a serial killer? They always say that he seemed normal and are always shocked.”
“A neighbor is different than family.”
“True, but do you think they’re going to launch into a diatribe about how Tony probably did it anyway and is an all-around rotten dude? No, they’re not. All they’re going to tell you is how innocent he is and how the justice system failed them.”
Black pulled onto the main road, heading toward the Acworth’s home a few miles away. “This is going to be a waste of our time.”
Shields didn’t say anything as they rode along. After a few minutes, her silence was bothering Black.
“What is it?” he asked.
“What’s what?”
“You went all quiet on me—and that’s not like you.”
“There’s something not right about all this,” she said, her gaze affixed out the passenger side window.
“Such as?”
She sighed. “I’m just not buying the poor little innocent Tony routine.”
Black continued along without responding. He waited until they were parked down the street and out of plain sight from the Acworth’s home before he spoke.
“I guess we’ll see for ourselves,” he said.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER, a black suburban rolled up into John Acworth’s driveway. The rest of the Acworth family, which had closed up shop early to welcome Tony home, rushed out to greet him.
Shields aimed a microphone at the family and listened in. The conversations consisted of reminiscing about past events together as well as quickly recounting everything Tony had missed since he’d gone to prison. They stayed out on the front porch and talked, soaking up the afternoon sun.
After Black and Shields conducted a few hours of surveillance, the family went inside. The two agents didn’t get much more than just a few hours of boring reminiscing and realized that they weren’t going to get much more than that.
“Still think he’s a psychopath who could’ve murdered that girl?” Black asked.
Shields shrugged. “I’m even more convinced now than ever that he’s a killer.”
“I bet he can’t even hold a gun right. You’d destroy him on the range.”
“I’d destroy you on the range,” she said. “You can’t really draw much from that fact.”
“That’s not a fact.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Whenever you get the guts up to challenge me, let’s roll. Until then, let’s stay focused on the task at hand.”
“Which is trying to determine what kind of person Tony Acworth is,” Black said. “And I vote that this guy is harmless.”
“Not buying it. But if you’re so sure we have nothing to worry about, give Blunt a call and ask him what he thinks we should do. I don’t want to stay here any longer than you do, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“Fine,” Black said as he picked up his phone and dialed Blunt’s number.
“How’d it go?” Blunt asked as he answered.
Black put their boss on speaker. “Acworth’s back home with his family, and they had a normal reunion by all counts. But Shields and I are divided right now. I think Acworth was set up, but Shields thinks he’s about to strike again. She would’ve preferred to have seen him thrown into a hole and never allowed to see the light of day again.”
“Sounds just like his case,” Blunt said. “I recall that case well. Senator Edgefield was convinced his daughter Melissa met Tony while vacationing at Bedford Springs. They never found the body, but there were signs she was abducted.”
Black sighed. “Yet Tony was convicted.”
“That’s how it goes sometimes, but at least he’s free for now,” Blunt said.
“But why?” Shields asked. “Why would Vogle risk everything to get Tony out? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense yet,” Blunt said. “We still have some time to figure this out.”
“Not if we’re babysitting this guy while he’s here,” Shields said.
“So, now you want to leave?” Black asked.
She nodded. “More than anything, we need to get back to Washington and piece all this intel together to get a clearer picture of what’s truly happening. Tony Acworth may be up to no good, but he’s a small piece of the puzzle that Vogle has given us.”
“I won’t disagree with you there,” Blunt said. “The two of you need to pay a little visit to the sheriff’s department there and offer one of the deputies a handsome sum to keep an eye on Acworth’s movements. That should do the trick.”
“Consider it done,” Black said. “We’ll be back at the office by this evening.”
Black typed the Bedford Springs sheriff’s department address into his maps app and headed straight there. Every hour that passe
d without apprehending Preston Vogle was just another hour for him to stay ahead of the Firestorm team. And Black hated that.
Let’s see if we can fix that.
Black and Shields entered the sheriff’s department in Bedford Springs posing as employees for the Federal Bureau of Prisons. They asked for the chief, but he wasn’t available. However, the chief deputy sheriff wasn’t busy and agreed to see them. A couple minutes later, they were in the office of Kyle Ridgecrest, asking him to keep an eye on Acworth.
“Consider it done,” Ridgecrest said as he pocketed the envelope stuffed with cash. “We’ll make sure you know whenever he’s up to something unusual.”
Black and Shields thanked Ridgecrest before exiting the building.
“Now that that’s out of the way, we need to hustle back to Washington,” Shields said.
Black nodded. “That might be the only thing we’ve agreed on all day.”
“Then make it happen,” she said.
CHAPTER 20
Washington, D.C.
AFTER RECEIVING THE MESSAGE from Black and Shields that the surveillance on Acworth was in place, Blunt called Michaels with an update. Blunt would’ve preferred to deliver a more robust report, but he knew the president would be clamoring for anything to set his mind at ease. The news that Tony Acworth appeared to be a normal everyday guy could ease Michaels’s troubled mind. Or it could set him off.
“There’s got to be something else behind this,” Michaels said. “Some normal, everyday welder type? That doesn’t feel right to me. Does it to you?”
“Maybe whoever did this was good friends with Acworth,” Blunt suggested. “Perhaps he wanted to do his friend a solid.”
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