“An apartment near Luxembourg Gardens. On Rue St. Michelle,” the assassin gasped.
“You’re sure?” Garrett asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” the man said looking up at Garrett.
Another round was spent as Garrett heard sirens approaching in the distance. The FBI agents had missed their check in time and reinforcements were on the way. He didn’t feel like staying around to explain the dead.
Garrett ran back into the house to his upstairs closet. He grabbed a bag he had packed with extra passports and ran out the back of the house. Two days ago, Garrett had contacted his accountant and attorney to instruct them to sell his business to his foreign suitor. The man had jumped quickly and Garrett had instructed that the proceeds should be transferred to a number of overseas accounts in several different names. He knew he would be gone a long time and he needed to be able to take care of himself.
Now it was up to him to find Simon and make him pay, make him feel the same pain he had levied on everyone else. Nothing was too desperate for Garrett to consider—nothing too premeditated. He no longer cared about himself; his own life held little meaning for him other than finding the leader of assassins and making him suffer.
Leaving the rear of the house, he made his way back into the creek bed. Garrett stopped and looked back at the home that had been the source of so many memories in the recent past. After a moment he turned away, knowing he would not be seeing it again for quite some time, if ever.
CHAPTER
TEN
“Mr. Marks will see you now,” the secretary said, addressing Holden in her most formal secretarial manner.
As Frank entered the offices of Vincent Marks, a tall man with graying hair rose to greet him. Although Frank had been heading up the investigative team looking into the leaks of technological secrets, he had never actually met Vincent Marks face to face. Both men assessed the other as they shook hands.
“Please have a seat, Agent Holden,” Marks gestured towards a coffee table and chairs. “May I get you some coffee, or some water perhaps?” he asked, as Frank took his seat.
Holden was impressed that someone in Vincent’s position would offer service himself instead of having his secretary do it for him.
“Sure, water would be fine,” Frank answered.
Vincent went to the refrigerator and grabbed some bottled water. As he poured Frank’s drink, he said, “I must say that I was surprised at your request for this meeting. I believe I dealt with one of your associates in the past.”
“Yes, well what I have come to communicate to you, I wanted to do in person,” Holden responded.
Vincent stopped what he was doing and looked at Holden intently, trying to assess what was coming next. His quick examination revealed nothing, and Vincent decided he would not want to invite Holden to a game of poker since, more than anything else, he hated to lose. He handed Frank his drink.
“Well, I must confess that I am somewhat curious about the reason you are here, especially since you flew all the way from D.C. to see me. I hope it’s good news about the leaks,” he said as he took a seat opposite Frank.
“Actually, it has to do with Levine’s murder and who may be responsible,” Holden responded.
“And?” Vincent asked. He was always one to get to the point and guessed Holden was the same. He figured either Holden was toying with him or that he was unsure of what exactly he wanted to say. Otherwise, Marks guessed that Holden would have already said it.
Frank took a deep breath and continued. “I’m here to see if you’re the type of man I think you are,” he started. “I hope you’ll pardon the way I go about telling you what I came here to discuss, but what this concerns is extremely sensitive and could have a great deal of impact on a very high-profile investigation.”
Marks shifted in his seat, leveled a look at the FBI agent and responded, “Look, Agent Holden, I am who I am. I know that I had nothing to do with either the leaks or the murder, and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I don’t feel I need to convince you or anyone else of these things. So, unless you have some information that clearly contradicts what I know to be true, spit it out; I really am a very busy man.”
Holden, somewhat taken aback by Vincent’s candor, took a deep breath and began. “We are pretty certain that whoever had Levine killed is involved with the leaks to the Chinese. That would tend to implicate someone who runs in your circles. While it would be foolish to rule you out one hundred percent, we’re pretty certain you had nothing to do with any of this.” He paused and let the words sink in. Then he continued. “Mr. Marks, we need to have someone, positioned as you are, to be available to us on a limited basis. We need someone who may be able to open some doors for us, if need be. Unfortunately, for obvious reasons, I’d have to keep you in the dark about a lot of the details. You’d be in the position of having to operate on blind faith.”
Vincent thought for a moment, mulling over the implications in his head. Frank sat and waited, his passive expression masking the eager anticipation of Marks’ response. Finally, Vincent spoke. “I’d be happy to cooperate to a point, Agent Holden, but I will make my own calls on just how far I will go. You don’t go around jabbing sticks into the eyes of these people and remain within ‘their sphere of influence’ for long. I hope you take that to heart.”
“Point duly noted,” Frank answered, setting his glass aside.
“Good,” Vincent said; “Is there anything you can tell me about how the case is progressing?” he inquired.
“Not really, at this point we know very little.”
Vincent nodded in affirmation and thought for a moment. “I want to do anything I can to help.” He rose and Holden followed suit. Picking up one of his business cards from his desk, Vincent wrote a number on the back. Handing it to Frank he said, “Here’s my private number. You can reach me here any time of day.”
Holden took the number and put it in his pocket. “I really appreciate your cooperation Mr. Marks. If I can pass on any information without compromising the case, I will. I just wanted you to know that,” he finished, offering his hand.
“Just catch the ones responsible. That’s all the payback I could expect,” Vincent said.
The two men shook hands again and Holden turned to leave. Vincent stared at the door as it shut behind the FBI agent. Then he reached down and picked up the phone on his desk. After a moment, the phone was answered at the other end.
“Max? Vincent here.”
* * *
The bureau jet had taken off moments before, and Holden was just getting settled in for his trip back to Washington, D.C. when the phone rang. Setting aside his club soda, he answered, “Frank Holden.”
“Frank, Nick Spanos here. I think we met a couple of years ago on a case in Texas.”
Holden sat up. “Yeah Nick. How are you doing? I hear you’re stationed in Atlanta now.”
Spanos replied, “Yeah, I transferred in just after wrapping things up in Texas. I ended up supervising the anti-terrorist unit for the Olympic games.”
“I guess that bombing really has a burr under your saddle, Nick. I want you to know that as far as I’m concerned, you all did a great job. Anymore, it seems, it’s almost impossible to keep things from happening.”
“Thanks, Frank,” Nick replied, “but try telling that to the families of those who died. It’s still hard for me to sleep sometimes, and it only makes it worse that we haven’t caught any of the bad guys yet.”
“I don’t suppose you’re calling about that though, are you?” Frank inquired.
“No, I’m not,” Spanos answered, “We had a couple of cars get blown up here last week.”
“I heard about it,” Holden interrupted.
Spanos continued, “Well, the ATF identified the materials and manner of use. We did a search and came up with a possible match to some recent activity over in Europe and Asia.
The victims there were all high profilers. Anyway, the actual target of the bombings here, in Atlanta, survived and told us a pretty incredible story.
“Oh, really?” Holden asked, his interest piqued.
“Yeah, Frank, and these ones a real challenge. He told us that he had become romantically involved with a woman who turned out to be married and that the husband had arranged the bombings. Our initial search had linked the bombings to a suspected ring of assassins operating in Europe. When we showed him an Interpol photo of a man suspected of brokering the assassins, he I.D.’d him as the husband.”
“Makes sense; we’ve been doing some research on a case involving some assassins here in D.C. You thinking they could be related?” Frank asked.
“Well, it could be.” Spanos started, “Your killer is a woman and this assassin’s wife supposedly told our near victim that her husband was involved with a den of assassins. Both men and women,” he added.
“Can I talk to her?” Frank asked.
“Sorry,” Spanos answered, “She was one of the people killed in the explosion. The other victim was this guy’s best friend.”
“Then can I talk to your guy, Nick, the one who survived?” Frank asked.
“There’s more to the story,” Spanos teased. “These assassins made a move on him last night at his home and we lost four of our own in the process.” Holden was silent on the other end of the phone. Spanos went on, “When we got there, we found our men all stacked up behind this guy’s house. We also found four assassins, all dead, but not a sign of our man.”
Holden’s interest was really piqued, now. “Are you telling me this guy got away from a professional hit team?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m saying.”
“Nick, something tells me you’re holding back.”
“Frank, when you were with the CIA, did you ever run across a guy named Garrett Adams?”
“What? Are you telling me that this guy you had was ex CIA?” Frank exclaimed.
“Yeah he was—know him?” Spanos persisted.
Holden thought for a moment. “I remember hearing of a guy named Garrett, but I didn’t know his last name. I only knew him by reputation.”
“Tell me what you know,” Spanos urged.
Frank continued, “Only that this guy was cool as they come. He could mix with the best of crowds, go to dinner parties, hell even go home and meet someone’s mother, then go on assignment later that night and end up dissecting a target. He had the charm and ability to get in close, but had no second if he was cornered. He ended up screwing up on a couple of assignments, or at least, that’s what I heard.”
Spanos whistled, “This guy sound like something. What happened?”
“He developed a conscience and refused some wet work a couple of times. He ended up quitting, the last I heard. If this is the same guy, I’d go easy on him,” Holden suggested.
“I wish we could take your advice. He’s gone. Vanished without a trace.”
Holden rose from his seat and started to pace. “If it is the same Garrett, we’ll know soon enough if he gets to this group of assassins before we do. He didn’t get that close to many people. If they killed his best friend, the bodies will start showing up sooner or later.
“He’s that good?” Nick asked.
“If its him, he’s that good,” Holden answered. “Now, what can you tell me about the husband—this broker?”
Nick switched gears. “Interpol e-mailed the file to me. They only have sketchy information on him. He goes by many last names but normally uses Simon as his first. Apparently, he runs in high social circles and, if you can believe this, has a very lucrative prostitution business with some very exclusive clients. That’s why they can’t seem to get much information on him, no one wants to talk, if you know what I mean. Interpol had an agent trailing him who managed to get a photo of him from a distance. That’s the one Garrett identified for us. The Interpol agent who took them was found a few weeks later, two bullet holes in the back of the head.”
Holden ran his free hand through his hair. “Nick, can you e-mail me the file on Simon? I’ll pull Garrett’s personnel file from the agency. Levine was shot by a woman at close range and would definitely be considered a high-profile case. We may have a connection here, and at this point, I’ll take any lead we can get.”
“Sure, Frank,” Spanos replied. I tried to get access to the Adam’s file, but I was denied. I figured you’d have better luck, being with counter intelligence. Maybe we can team up again and get these cases solved.”
“We’ll see—but do we fight over who gets to be the hero?” Frank teased. “Tell you what—I’ll call you in a couple of days, after I’ve had a chance to go over the information. Besides that’ll give me a head start.”
Holden ended the call and sat the phone down. He picked up his drink and sat back in his seat, trying to digest what he had just heard. “What a lucky break it would be if the two cases were connected,” he thought to himself. “All because this ‘Simon’s’ wife got involved with another man, the wrong man. How ironic.” Frank finished his drink and reclined in his seat. He figured he’d better get some rest while he could. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting much in the near future.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
“Vincent, how are you?” Max answered, setting down a file he was working on.
“Great Max, and yourself?”
Everything’s well on this end. I’m sorry that I haven’t called you yet, but there’s really been nothing new here. No new developments at all.”
Marks walked to one of his office windows, “That’s all right Max. I’ve been swamped since getting back from China, anyway. Listen, I was calling to let you know that I just had a visit from Frank Holden, the lead agent on the leak investigation.”
“Oh?” Max reacted, pushing his chair back from his desk and crossing his legs, curious to hear more.
“Yeah, it was a surprise to me, too, when he asked for the meeting. Anyway, Max, he seems like a “straight shooter,” and I was thinking you may want to give him a call to fill him in on what you know.”
Max was silent as he thought for a moment. “I’ve been trying to play everything close to the vest up to now. I’ve a feeling these people out to divulge trade secrets aren’t to be messed with, so, I have to admit, one of my main concerns has been self- preservation. But, perhaps you’re right. Maybe I should just deliver all the information I’ve discovered and be done with it. When we were in China, I met with some of my security people. I don’t know if I told you about this before, but two of my men were killed in Atlanta back in ’96. Both were working on something happening over in China. Since they were killed, I’ve had my people trying to figure out what happened, with few results, I might add. I don’t know, but every since I got back from the trip, I’ve been mulling over the idea of turning all that we have over to the authorities.
About the time I became comfortable with that idea, I also found out when we were over there, that Interpol has started an investigation on related matters. I’m thinking we need to get out of the way and let them do their thing.”
Vincent turned away from the window. “Just what is going on Max? You never did fill me in on any of the details,” he questioned, fishing for yet more information that might provide further leads to pass on to Holden.
Max answered, “One of my men in China stumbled across evidence of something being hatched by a few of their Generals. As you know it’s a strange set-up they have over there. All of the major industries there are controlled by military or ex-military, with the exceptions of banking and finance. Those are controlled by either the state or the politicians. We do a lot of business in China and compete with some of these companies, so we have people there who are the mouthpieces and eyes of our business endeavors.
“Yes, we have the same, but to a lesser degree,” Vincent inte
rrupted.
Max continued, “Well, apparently one of my men dug up information on something, we’re not entirely certain what, and was bringing everything he had to us. He was meeting with his superior in Atlanta when the two of them were killed. It wasn’t pretty—and it was rumored that the two of them were taken off-guard by a pair of beauties, if you know what I mean. Poor guys, they were valuable members of our team and they never knew what hit them.
We’ve been able to put together a few of the pieces, but not nearly enough to gain a clear picture of what was planned. What we have been able to determine is that there will be some sort of massive disruption presumably followed by a power grab.”
Vincent started pacing. “That disturbs me, especially if one of us on that trip is suspected of conspiring with these generals. We’re all involved in the high-tech field in one way or another, and a technological disruption of a major magnitude would have grave consequences worldwide.”
Vincent paused and reached into his jacket pocket, extracting a business card. “Max, I really need to get on with things here, but let me give you Agent Holden’s number. I know he’s on his way back to D.C. as we speak.”
“You’re welcome to give it to me Vincent, but I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to call. I’ve got a board meeting starting in about an hour.”
* * *
Frank Holden glanced up at his computer screen and watched as the encrypted file from Nick Spanos finish downloading. He had already done the same for Garrett’s central intelligence file. Coffee in one hand and feet on his desk, he started reading Garrett’s personnel file as Nick’s file started to print. When Frank was about halfway through the file, his phone rang. Answering as he read, he heard the party at the other end identify himself. Frank quickly pulled his tired feet from the desktop and sat up straight, alert to the certainty that this was to be no run-of-the-mill conversation.
“Could you repeat that?” he asked.
“Yes, Agent Holden. This is Max Schlagle,” the party at the other end responded. “Vincent Marks and I talked yesterday and he suggested that I give you a call.”
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