by J. C. Fields
“I can help you.”
Taking a deep breath, Griffin looked at the Secret Service agents. “Please escort Mr. Holt out. He has a resignation speech to write.”
Holt was escorted out of the Oval Office by two of the Secret Service agents. When he was gone, Griffin sat behind his desk and took a deep breath. “I hope that was the best way to handle him.”
Joseph spoke for the first time. “It was the only way to handle him, Mr. President. You’ve been in this town long enough to know how to play hardball.”
“Yes, but I don’t have to enjoy it.”
Kruger smiled. “Roy, JR tapped into Holt’s emails early this morning. He was contacting various news media outlets and raising the question of your legitimacy as president. All at the behest of Orlov.”
Wide-eyed, Griffin stared at Kruger. “What were the responses?”
“Most of them blew him off as a conspiracy theorist. Some of the more radical ones were interested in talking to him, but so far no interviews confirmed.”
“Do you have copies of the emails?”
Kruger nodded.
With a grim smile, Griffin closed his eyes. “I don’t trust him. I have a funny feeling he’ll call my bluff.” He paused. “I hate this part. Leak the emails to Tracy Adkins and include the pictures and information of his meeting with a Russian agent. Make sure she has proof of Volkov’s connection to Orlov. Let the American public understand the kind of Congressman he’s been. Just keep the sexual assault and Elizabeth’s name out of it for now.”
“Good idea, sir.”
Chapter 39
Paris, France
“What do you mean, money is missing?”
The young computer operator looked up to find Dmitri Orlov glaring at him. “It is like I said, sir. Every transfer I have made over the last seventy-two hours has not gone through. It is not in any of the banks we use. The money just vanished.”
“How can that be? You have confirmation of the transfers, do you not?”
“Yes, sir. When I check with the bank where the money was sent, they tell me the confirmation numbers do not match anything they have on record. Without a valid confirmation number, they will not investigate.”
Orlov’s face turned crimson as he stared at the young man. Before he could say anything his assistant, Gregory Pushkin, entered the small computer room. Leaning so he could whisper in Orlov’s ear, he said, “Moscow is on your private line, sir.”
Wide eyed, his face still flushed with anger, Orlov stormed out of the room to listen to what he knew would be a one-sided diatribe rather than a conversation. After closing his office door, he picked up the handset. “This is Dmitri.”
Those were the last words he spoke until the call ended abruptly. After replacing the handset in the phone’s cradle, he sat behind his desk and buried his face in his hands. Ten minutes later, he rose from his chair and left the office.
He passed his favorite small café, continuing to walk northwest on Quai de Montebello, until he came to Rue de la Cite and turned right. Tourist traffic grew heavier as he crossed the Seine and approached the front courtyard of Notre Dame Cathedral. As he turned right, he saw one of his frequently-visited benches unoccupied. Tourists milled around taking pictures of the cathedral and the giant statue of Charlemagne on the southwest side of the church’s courtyard. He sat and stared at the magnificent statue, his mind elsewhere.
Fifteen minutes later, Boris Volkov sat next to him, but did not speak. Without looking at him, Orlov said, “This FBI agent is becoming intolerable.”
Volkov nodded but knew better than to say anything.
Orlov turned to the large man sitting next to him. “What would you do, if you were me?”
“How concerned is Moscow?”
“My friend is not happy. He also questions my judgement and loyalty.”
“An untenable position. One that needs correcting.”
“Yes.” Orlov returned his gaze toward the 140-year-old statue of the 8th century so-called father of Europe. “Kruger has shown himself to be resourceful. He has assets we were unaware of.”
“I would agree.”
“What about this Anthony Holt? Has he started his investigation?”
“I do not have good news about him.”
Frowning, Orlov kept his attention on the statue. “Tell me.”
“He is no longer a member of the House of Representatives.”
Orlov turned abruptly and glared. “Did you not explain our conditions for keeping silent about his past?”
“I did,” Volkov nodded. “He resigned from Congress last night without giving specifics on why. We think Kruger talked to Sandifer and knew Holt’s background as well. Holt had a meeting with President Griffin yesterday afternoon and then resigned that evening.”
Volkov could see the older man’s hands shaking as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“What about Yanovich? Is he still a problem?”
The larger man shook his head. “No.”
“We are down to few assets, Boris. Are our Free America friends ready?”
“Almost. I received a communication from the hacker in Mexico City.”
A calmer Orlov returned his attention to Volkov. “Oh, why has she been silent these past weeks?”
“She indicated she had to relocate.”
“To where?”
“She will not tell me. She did not appreciate our sending Popov to find her.”
“Have you found him yet?”
“No.”
“Go on about the woman.”
“She is mad at us, but more so at the Americans.”
“Will she help us?”
“For the right amount of money.”
“How much?”
“Two million Euros.”
Orlov returned his attention to the statue. The number of tourists milling around the plaza in front of Notre Dame Cathedral grew as the minutes passed. Volkov sat quietly as his boss remained silent. Ten minutes went by before Orlov spoke again. “I don’t trust her, so therefore I do not believe her.”
The larger man nodded.
“Boris, I am tired of pouring money into Free America without results.” Orlov stood. “Tell them it is time to show me what they can do. Otherwise, I will cease providing money. That should get their attention.” He walked toward the entrance to the cathedral.
Chapter 40
Christian County, MO
Currently the only residents staying at the house, Gibbs and Alexia wandered the tree line of Joseph’s property. Hand in hand they strolled, enjoying the solitude of the morning. Sandy and Linda Knoll occasionally stopped by, but today they were at their cabin at the Lake of the Ozarks. Conversation was light, each sharing a little more of their background as they became more comfortable around each other.
Alexia turned to look at Gibbs. “Where is this property you want to buy?”
Smiling, Gibbs nodded his head toward the north. “The area is about a hundred klicks that way. I haven’t really looked yet.”
“What is klick?”
“Sorry, kilometer.”
She nodded. “There are lakes to the south, correct?”
“Yes, but they’re a lot more commercial with tons of tourists. Stockton Lake isn’t as developed as Table Rock.”
“What about this Lake of Ozarks? Linda talks about all the time.”
“It’s farther north and really crowded.”
“Oh.” She returned her attention to the ground as they walked. “Can I see the area sometime?”
Gibbs stopped walking and smiled at her. “Sure, when?”
“It is Sunday morning. Why not go today?”
They practically ran back to the house.
Two hours later, Gibbs turned the black Range Rover onto a dirt access road off Missouri 215. The path led to an area used at times by fishermen to launch small jon boats into the lake. Parking the SUV, they both sat and stared at the lake as it stretched out toward the north.
“This is beautiful, Jimmie. It reminds me of a place my father took us when we were little.”
Gibbs smiled. “It is pretty, isn’t it?” They both exited the car and walked toward the water’s edge. With a sweeping gesture, Gibbs’ hand created an arc in the air. “Look at that, not a boat dock or house in sight.”
“It is sad.”
He looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Sad? What do you mean?”
“No one can enjoy this sight from their home.”
Gibbs reached over and hugged her for a brief moment.
“That’s the point, Alexia. This is a non-development area. It’s done on purpose to maintain the beauty of the lake.”
“Why do you want to live here, Jimmie?”
Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “For most of my life, I lived in the San Francisco area of California. Very urban, very crowded. During my career in the Navy, I saw a lot of desolate locations on this planet. To me this is a compromise between over-development and desolation.” He paused. “Listen. See how quiet it is?”
He stopped talking. The only sounds audible were the lapping of waves on the shore and birds chirping in the surrounding trees.
She looked around, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. A smile slowly grew on her face and she reached for him to be closer.
“Yes, it is quiet. Not like Paris or Mexico City. But are there no people living here?”
“Lots of people live here, but not right on the lake. There’s a town not too far north called Stockton. They even have a Catholic church.”
She smiled and glanced at him.
“Are you Catholic?”
“Yes, but I haven’t been a practicing one for years.”
“I know, I have not attended mass since leaving Spain.”
He brought her closer. “I’m going to ask a question, but if you are uncomfortable answering it, don’t.”
She looked at him, concern in her eyes. “Is this a bad question?”
“Not at all.”
Smiling, she nodded. “Then you may ask.”
“I saw how you interacted with Sean’s and JR’s kids. Do you want children of your own someday?”
She remained quiet as she stared out over the lake. Gibbs saw tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. She wiped them away.
“At one time, no. I did not live a life good for children, so I never thought about it. But now…” She grew quiet again. After a long silence, she looked at him. “Why do you ask?”
“I was curious.”
“And why were you curious?”
“Oh, I don’t know. My military training taught me to gather as much information as possible before making decisions.”
She smiled, pulled away and punched him lightly on his bicep. “So, you are gathering information about me. Not very nice Mr. James Gibbs.”
He chuckled. “I want kids someday.”
She returned to his side and let him embrace her again. Then she placed her head on his shoulder and encircled his waist with her arm.
On the drive back to Joseph’s property Gibbs’ cell phone chirped. He answered with the Bluetooth system in the Rover.
“This is Jimmie.”
“Where are you?” The voice was Kruger’s, the tone matter-of-fact.
“North of Springfield, about twenty klicks, why?”
“Is Alexia with you?”
“Yeah, why?
“Get to JR’s office as fast as you can.”
The call ended and Gibbs looked over at Alexia. “What do you think that was all about?”
“I do not know, but I believe our lazy Sunday is over.”
***
Forty-five minutes later, Gibbs and Alexia stood next to JR’s cubicle and watched his hand fly across the keyboard. Without stopping, he glanced at Alexia.
“The company is experiencing a rather nasty DDoS attack. Most of the hits are probing, looking for vulnerabilities. As you know, we have protocols in place to prevent this kind of crap, but whoever is doing it is overwhelming our defenses. I need you to use our alternate ISP and trace the attack. Start with that Free America bunch.”
Alexia nodded and rushed to her cubicle.
Gibbs turned to Kruger who was standing behind JR. “What the hell did he just say?”
Kruger motioned for Gibbs to follow him into the conference room. After the door was closed, Kruger turned to the younger man.
“JR and I think Orlov has a bunch of hackers attacking his company. Just before you got here, he had it under control, but didn’t have time to trace the attack. That’s why he needed Alexia.”
Gibbs nodded and glanced out the conference room window to watch Alexia working at her computer. “JR brought her out of her shell, Sean. She feels needed.”
Kruger grinned. “She is needed. JR needs someone he can rely on to help with his growing company. Even though he is taking more of a back seat, he needs someone with the same skill set he has to do what he’s always done. She’s that someone.”
They watched as Alexia stood up and yelled at JR, “It is them, JR.”
JR nodded and yelled back, “Thought so. Remember what we discussed last week?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Alexia smiled and sat back down.
Chapter 41
Springfield, MO
Monday morning found Kruger shaving in front of the mirror on his side of the vanity. Stephanie stood in front of her side, applying what little makeup she normally wore. A radio with weather alert capabilities sat on the windowsill tuned to the local NPR station for national news updates.
Kruger stopped shaving as he listened to two announcers discuss breaking news coming from Washington.
“Cynthia Stewart is at the Capital. What have you learned so far this morning, Cynthia?”
“Robert, the Speaker of the House and Senate Majority Leader, in a rare joint decision, have called an emergency meeting of Congressional leadership. Those members have been arriving for the past ten minutes and have hustled into the Senate chambers. None have spoken to reporters and all were surrounded by members of the Capital Police and escorted inside.”
“Any speculation about the reason for this sudden meeting?”
“Only rumors. The meeting may have something to do with leaked legal files, received by this reporter overnight, from the closed law firm of Rothenburg and Sandifer.”
Kruger groaned. “Oh, shit.” He wiped off the remaining shaving cream and reached for his cell phone laying on the bathroom countertop. He pressed an icon and waited.
“Clark.”
“What the hell is going on in Washington?”
“Legal files from Rothenburg and Sandifer were leaked to the press overnight.”
“Uh-boy.”
“It gets worse. Sixty-two senators and members of the House of Representatives are implicated. Some of the charges are silly and frivolous, but the majority are probably career-ending. At least, that’s what it looks like to me.”
“Who’s taken responsibility for releasing the files?”
“Guess.”
Kruger closed his eyes. He hated these types of stall tactics. “Ryan, just tell me.”
“It’s the group being financed by Orlov, the bunch of hackers calling themselves Free America. They’re claiming to be American patriots who plan to clean up government by exposing the criminal behavior of members of Congress.”
“What’s the agency doing about this?”
“Don’t know at this point. My source is Tracy.”
Kruger frowned, choosing not to tell Clark about the attack on JR’s business the previous day. “How’s she involved?”
Clark paused for a several moments before answering. “She’s not sure. She received a PDF file in her private email account early this morning from the group. The message contained the legal files and an outline of their plans. According to the letter, more revelations are coming.” Pausing for a moment, he waited for Kruger to respond. When
none came, he continued. “The email recipients were a who’s who of Washington, D.C., political reporters. All were addressed to personal emails, not their business email accounts.”
“Great. What did you do with the email?”
“Forwarded it to Charlie Craft and then called Seltzer.”
“Good, have Tracy forward it to JR. Here’s the email to use.”
Kruger recited the address from memory.
“What do you think is going on?” Clark asked.
“We dropped a hornet’s nest on the bear’s head.”
“Do you think they’ll keep our team involved?”
“If I have any say-so, they will. Remember, we report to the president.”
“I keep forgetting.”
Kruger smiled. “Plan on a conference call later this morning.”
***
The conference call occurred at 11:20 a.m. at JR’s office. Sandy drove in from his place at Lake of the Ozarks and Gibbs arrived an hour before. JR and Alexia did not attend as they busied themselves with damage control from the cyber-attack on Sunday.
After the meeting concluded, Knoll left for the airport and Gibbs asked Alexia to drive him. That way she would have a vehicle while he was gone. Plus, he wanted to spend a few more minutes with her.
Kruger stood behind JR’s cubicle trying to find a non-flavored coffee pod.
“Don’t you have just plain coffee pods for this thing?”
“I didn’t get a chance to do my normal Sunday coffee buying at Sam’s. We’re running low, so look in the credenza. I have a couple of boxes hidden in the back on the bottom shelf.”
JR’s attention never wavered from his computer screen.
Following directions, Kruger found the unopened boxes of Ethiopian Yirgacheffe coffee pods.
“How the hell do you pronounce this name?”
“Beats me. Try it, it’s good.”
Shrugging, Kruger opened the box and placed one of the pods in the Keurig. He watched JR while the machine made his coffee. “How bad was the damage?”