Dark Vessel (COIL Book 4), page 6
"Rumors of your death are greatly exaggerated, I see!" She stepped carefully on the rocks. Though she'd tried to appear wide-awake in a casual suit and her curly, dark hair tied up into a ponytail, her face was puffy from crying, or possibly from lack of sleep. "You missed your own funeral yesterday."
We embraced as friends who'd been through dozens of life-threatening operations together.
"You know I wouldn't want to spoil a nice ceremony." We both faced the drive above. No one could approach without us noticing. "Janice and Jenna need to be protected until I come in. How are they holding up?"
"Well, that's of some concern, Corban. They'd been with me, but after the funeral, some bald guy approached Janice and spoke to her in private. I couldn't get a good look at him other than see he had a shaved head. Janice insisted that she go with this man, but she wouldn't say who he was. Before I could do or say anything, they were gone. They didn't even have any clothes with them. Whoever he was, I feel just sick for not being more careful. Corban, I never thought they'd come for your family at the funeral!"
"This bald guy, was he gaunt with dark eyes?"
"Maybe, Corban, but it was pretty far away. He wasn't exactly mingling with the mourners. If he had, I would've noticed him." She cocked her head. "Aren't you upset with me? I don't know who this guy was."
"I do. It's fine, Chloe. He's a friend."
"The one who's looked after them in the past? Is he the one who chews bubble gum that Jenna told me about?"
"Yes, I think so. I can't imagine Janice going with anyone else." I forced a smile for her sake. "They're safe. My guy probably got wind of some nonsense and knows of a safer place for them."
"Well, I won't pretend to know all the spooks from your past. So, will you at least tell me what's going on?"
Starting from the beginning, I told her about the night of the explosion, and the man I thought was Roy Turpin in my car. The sun was rising by the time I finished.
"So, if Roy Turpin didn't die in your place, who was in the explosion?"
"Maybe just a cadaver. That's what I understood from General Forglade. Either way, I was set up to believe I was helping a recently-paroled convict. For two years, I wrote this man in the prison upstate. I did a little hunting this week. All signs of a Roy Turpin ever existing, of course, have disappeared."
"Is this the recording of General Forglade's admission?" She tapped a fingernail on the flash drive. "There hasn't been anything in the news, Corban. I guess he didn't come forward like you'd hoped."
"It was expected. Even generals answer to someone. We have to find who has him so frightened."
"This terrorist bit has me real concerned." Chloe growled under her breath. "There are probably a hundred people you've situated in dangerous countries under Muhammad's cover, and those are just the ones I know about. If it comes out now that it was you all this time, those people will have to be warned."
"That could take months, and by then, it'd be too late." I kicked at a rock. "We have to handle this delicately. Interrogating the general and giving Muhammad three appearances in Europe hopefully caused a hiccup, but I doubt I've derailed their plans entirely."
"So, how do we proceed? Senator Nettleton's office? You trust this Rod Chang character, the assistant?"
"Trust? No. Do we need him? Maybe so. He didn't seem very pleased to hear that the TaTD is up to something covert on the senator's watch." A siren blared on the bridge above, then crossed into New Jersey. "Can you free up a couple days for me?"
"Sure. Zvi isn't due back until Saturday. What do you have in mind? Bring back Alpha Team? The boys would take this on like a hurricane."
"Nah. I'm thinking of a more subtle route. Just you and me. How about a bait and cover gig?"
"Fine, if you're the bait!" She laughed and slapped my shoulder.
"Good. Do what you do. Catch up to me by noon at the apartment building on 67th."
"Okay, but I'd sure feel better if we brought in a couple of the boys for overwatch."
"Those COIL teams are trained for foreign countries, not for this country with its restrictions and scrutiny. Too many laws to be aware of, Chloe. I need you to do this without alerting anyone."
"All right. It's your neck. See you at noon."
#######
I drove back to the squatters' building that morning with a nervous excitement in my gut that I associated with a feeling when I was about to face a superior adversary—and knowing I had the upper hand. Like walking through a Chinese border crossing with a suitcase of Bibles, or driving a carload of hunted Christian refugees out of Syria. God had been watching over me for years. He was watching over us still.
My family had been abducted, in a fashion, by whom I was certain was the Italian Luigi Putelli, a deadly man whose life I'd delivered three years earlier. Ever since that blistering day in the Bekoa Valley in Lebanon, Luigi Putelli had been shadowing my family, returning to me the debt he insisted he owed me. Though he wasn't a Christian, I'd involved him in training clandestine operators, like Nathan Isaacson, but mostly it was to keep Luigi near, exposing him to the gospel lived out through uncompromising Christians.
Regardless, I needed to somehow confirm that Luigi did indeed have Janice and Jenna. My blood pressure was definitely running high right now.
Ruth fixed breakfast for me—waffles from a box—and I relaxed on my sleeping bag as the two kids squealed and played. I'd been waiting for Ruth to make the first move since her commitment to Christ the previous Sunday. Sure enough, she began asking questions about the Bible and reading the Scriptures every chance she got. To me, this was initial evidence that her conversion was genuine. She wasn't merely a believer in what Jesus had done; she was born again, repentant of her past, proving that a miracle had occurred in her life. If Ben Vitco played his cards right, he might even get a devout, Christian wife.
*~*
Chapter 11
Much of a spy's life of interaction with people involved ambushing the lives of others. I employed this tactic under disguise as I slipped into Senator Nettleton's building in Tribeca, a few blocks from Manhattan's financial district. The senator's staff occupied four floors above the twentieth story, and I'd already called ahead to confirm an appointment.
In Texas flourish, I emerged from the elevator to be received by the receptionist. She seemed to identify me right away by my cowboy hat and cigars in my leather vest.
"Mr. Herbert Ephron, may I take your hat?" The receptionist rose from her wide desk and took my hat, setting it on a hook. She was taller than I was, but I wasn't so insecure that it bothered me. I'd been infiltrating foreign regimes for as many years as she was old. "The senator is expecting you."
Giving me VIP treatment, the woman opened both doors to a spacious office that faced south. The New York flag and photos of family spanned the only wall that wasn't glass.
Senator Nettleton greeted me like an old friend, though we'd never met. He had a fixed smile and narrow eyes, seemingly made for politics. He was chubbier and younger than I expected.
"Always a pleasure to meet a contributor, Mr. Ephron!" He shook my hand heartily, which was expected since I'd scheduled the meeting after disclosing a fabricated bank balance. "How long are you planning to be in the Big Apple?"
"Not long enough to miss my Lone Star beef!" I laughed boisterously, feeling the glue on my bushy mustache holding sure. "More than a couple days here and I'd go insane without the wide openness of my ranch. You ever been there? I'll show you livin'!"
"I might take you up on that." He gestured to his left. "My trusted advisor, Rod Chang. You two spoke on the phone, I believe."
"Pleasure, young man." I shook Chang's hand and locked eyes long enough to allow him to recognize me, but he didn't. Before that day, he'd seen me only in the darkness of the park and on the photo ID where I appeared to be Peter Mitchell. Hoping to maintain my disguise a little longer, I turned from Chang and plopped down in a wide soft chair. Though tempted to prop my cowboy boots onto his desk, I decided that might be too much. "I'd sure like to hear how you're working on our country, Senator, especially after all the recent headaches in the Middle East. Those A-rabs just don't stop, do they?"
"Well, you understand, Mr. Ephron, that I'm chairman of the domestic oversight committee." Nettleton folded his arms. "While those disturbances impact this country, my job is to keep home-front agencies funded, as well as keep the public safe."
"Of course, but when I hear about our own people dying on the streets of your city, you understand my concern." The senator and Chang exchanged glances, but I acted like I didn't notice as I offered cigars to the men. They both refused politely, then I lit up without asking permission. "I read the papers. When an agent friend dies in a car bomb, I want to know how I can make sure that never happens again."
Chang sat up straighter and Nettleton studied me more closely. I didn't have time to court these men all day. The Texas way was to go straight to the mark, even if I wasn't really a Texan.
"I'm assuming you're talking about Corban Dowler who died a week and a half ago." Nettleton tapped his desk calendar. "It was unfortunate, but after an investigation, we found it to be a case of mistaken identity. A local gang already claimed responsibility. I wasn't aware that Dowler had many friends who knew he'd been an agent for the US. Were you two close?"
"Closer than most, I suppose." I blew smoke at the ceiling. "We all know that was no accident, boys. Top CIA agents don't die by accident. I'm interested in contributing to your efforts, Senator, but I want to make sure the good guys are safe before I secure your office for the upcoming election."
"The investigation is closed, Mr. Ephron. Dowler was purely a tragic accident." Nettleton's voice raised an octave, a sign that I took to mean he was lying. "Bad things happen to good people. It's very sad."
"So are you working with the TaTD to cover up their assassination of a patriot, or are you intentionally keeping me out of the loop?"
Nettleton's mouth opened, but he closed it quickly and looked at Chang. As intended, I'd caught them unguarded. I glared at Nettleton, the pressure mounting. He was surely torn between the promise of my supposed millions and his own committee's secrets. Something wasn't right, but I wasn't finished watching him squirm.
"How would a cattle rancher from Texas know anything about the happenings here?" Nettleton asked.
"How come my contacts here know more about the death of an elite secret agent, and you know nothing?" I ground out my cigar on a coaster on his desk. "The TaTD—are you in bed with them or not? You one of General Logan Forglade's people or not?"
"No, I am not!" Nettleton's face was red. Of course, I knew Forglade answered to him. "I need to know how you know about this situation, and I need to know how much you know!" He scowled at Chang. "I thought you said this was zipped tight!"
"It is from our end." Chang folded his hands in front of him. "General Forglade may feel us closing in. That night generated some unguarded chatter. If the general knows we're tracking him, he may erase any record of what we're trying to do. As soon as we have the pieces in place, we'll bury Forglade."
"Okay." I nodded and sighed, my Texan drawl gone. "I had to be sure you two were still working for the home team. I'm not who I told you I was."
Chang rose from his chair and leaned over to stare at me in the face.
"I knew it!" He smiled at Nettleton. "It's Peter Mitchell, the Weltersand operative from Marcus Garvey Park I was telling you about."
"Mitchell?" Nettleton's brow furrowed, probably at the evaporated prospect of funding. "This is a little elaborate, isn't it?"
"Not with the TaTD on the prowl. Besides, I couldn't be sure you were interested in helping me."
"It's a little hard when we don't have all the facts," Chang said. "Your report justified an inquiry into the TaTD, but they're blocking every query we throw at them. General Forglade's even left the country."
"Yeah, I figured as much. Well, it's a lot more complicated than that." My heart skipped a beat. I had to trust someone besides Chloe, who was somewhere outside the building at that moment, watching my back and listening to my conversation through my belt buckle microphone. "Corban Dowler is still alive."
This was my final test. If they already knew that fact, then I'd know they were involved. Only those directly involved in the car explosion would know it wasn't meant to kill me. However, their faces seemed to show genuine surprise. Or shock. I prayed I was reading their faces accurately.
"What?" Chang gasped and closed his fingers around a fistful of his own hair. "Why would Dowler do all this? How do you know he's alive? That explains why his family is missing. He's put them somewhere safe."
I studied Chang and the words he used. Something still wasn't right with him, as if he were trying too hard. But I was encouraged that he'd looked in on my family.
"Yes, I've put them with someone I trust." I peeled off my mustache, though with some pain, but I left on the thick eyebrows. "Corban Dowler, gentlemen. Peter Mitchell doesn't exist. Chang, you said in the park that you knew of me when you were in the Logistics Division at Langley. Do you recognize me?"
"Uh . . . I guess so. I can't say I'd remember his, I mean, your face real well. No offense."
"Are you accusing us, Mr. Dowler?" Nettleton asked. "Or suspecting we're involved in this web of lies with the TaTD? I'm a senator, and I'm outraged that certain men have attacked citizens of this fine country!"
"Senator, I'm looking at everyone carefully. Remember, I was just blown up in a car!" Nettleton's defensiveness made me cautious, but I had to keep going. "The TaTD is for certain behind this. I questioned General Forglade in his car, and that's probably why he left the country. Though they never intended to kill me, they meant for me to think someone was trying to kill me so they could set me up while I was on the run. Now, I don't know the status of their plans, but I'm certain that Forglade wasn't working alone. He was afraid of someone else."
It took me twenty minutes to share what I knew from the general's admission, but I left out details of my squatters' residence, my family's safety with Luigi, and the recording of our conversation.
"So, whoever is behind General Forglade is who we need to pin down." Chang clenched a fist. "Enough playing around, Senator. We need to shut down the TaTD headquarters once and for all. Who knows who Forglade has corrupted against us!"
"Not so fast," I said. "It might scare the puppet master away if we jump before it's time. We need to know why he wanted my Muhammad ibn Affal cover in the first place. I can do that if I go inside the TaTD."
Chang and Nettleton looked at one another, communicating with their eyes. The TaTD was the key, I thought, but these two had secrets.
"Mr. Dowler . . ." Nettleton shook his head. "You're clever, and thank God you are! But you're just a civilian now. I can't sanction something like that. That's walking into the viper's nest down there. The TaTD may as well be considered a rogue agency with this latest move. I have a number of younger agents who—"
"With all due respect, Senator, I was in Iran during the Revolution. I've brokered arms deals between Israel and Pakistan, smuggled prisoners out of North Korea and agents into Saudi Arabian nuclear sites. Your agents are up against a foe who knows how they think. I'm an outsider. To them, I'm running scared, but I know what to look for. Give me a DOD ID for a routine liaison briefing, and I'll find out what the TaTD is up to. Whoever is filling in for the general at their headquarters will know something."
"Just how will you find out?" Chang shook his head. "How will you get it out of them by only a visit?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I stood and pressed my mustache back into place. "Whoever was using General Forglade won't run away if they think they're undetected. They may even try to go after Forglade because they'll know he got scared and talked. The one who Forglade left behind will lead us straight to the culprit."
"Let me throw this out there, Mr. Dowler," Nettleton said. "Wouldn't it have been easier to just give them the Muhammad identity at the beginning of all this?"
"Too many lives are dependent on that ID, gentlemen, lives that a dark heart wouldn't blink over when they're lost. But I'm a Christian now. God cares about every soul, and that means I need to care as well. If that doesn't make sense to you, then—"
"No, it makes sense to me." Nettleton stood and rested his hands on his hips. "I was raised that way. It's good to hear a man stepping out in faith, Mr. Dowler. Coordinate with Chang here. We'll back you, but only because I know you won't be killing your enemies. I've always admired COIL. Makes me feel a bit insignificant where the bigger picture is concerned."
"Change is a decision away," I challenged, then nodded to Chang. "You, too. God is looking for men who will admit their insignificance in themselves, and their significance in Him. That's what the cross is all about, saving us from ourselves, in Christ."
"Let's, uh, get to work," Chang said. He moved to the door, but when Nettleton and I looked at one another, we shared a knowing smile. At least I hoped that's what he was smiling about—that he understood the true impact the gospel could have on an individual's life.
*~*
Chapter 12
Because I sensed my time living in hiding was ending, I stopped by the squatters' apartment and collected my few personal belongings. I was leaving the generator and household provisions for Ruth.
"It's just as well that we're moving on," Ruth said as she ruffled Earl's hair. "I've been convicted about living in an illegal place. There's an older couple at the church that has a small basement apartment. They said me and the kids could move into it until I find work."
"That's great, Ruth. I'm glad to know you'll be okay." I swung my backpack over my shoulder. When I looked at her, I thought of my own family in the hands of Luigi, who'd become my family's bodyguard of sorts. How I missed them! "What do you want to do about Earl?"
"If I go to child services, I'll lose him." She gave a rattle toy to Jenny. "But if I keep him, I could lose him at any time. I should pray about it, right? No, don't tell me. Now that I'm a Christian, I know to do the right thing, even when it hurts."
We embraced as friends who'd been through dozens of life-threatening operations together.
"You know I wouldn't want to spoil a nice ceremony." We both faced the drive above. No one could approach without us noticing. "Janice and Jenna need to be protected until I come in. How are they holding up?"
"Well, that's of some concern, Corban. They'd been with me, but after the funeral, some bald guy approached Janice and spoke to her in private. I couldn't get a good look at him other than see he had a shaved head. Janice insisted that she go with this man, but she wouldn't say who he was. Before I could do or say anything, they were gone. They didn't even have any clothes with them. Whoever he was, I feel just sick for not being more careful. Corban, I never thought they'd come for your family at the funeral!"
"This bald guy, was he gaunt with dark eyes?"
"Maybe, Corban, but it was pretty far away. He wasn't exactly mingling with the mourners. If he had, I would've noticed him." She cocked her head. "Aren't you upset with me? I don't know who this guy was."
"I do. It's fine, Chloe. He's a friend."
"The one who's looked after them in the past? Is he the one who chews bubble gum that Jenna told me about?"
"Yes, I think so. I can't imagine Janice going with anyone else." I forced a smile for her sake. "They're safe. My guy probably got wind of some nonsense and knows of a safer place for them."
"Well, I won't pretend to know all the spooks from your past. So, will you at least tell me what's going on?"
Starting from the beginning, I told her about the night of the explosion, and the man I thought was Roy Turpin in my car. The sun was rising by the time I finished.
"So, if Roy Turpin didn't die in your place, who was in the explosion?"
"Maybe just a cadaver. That's what I understood from General Forglade. Either way, I was set up to believe I was helping a recently-paroled convict. For two years, I wrote this man in the prison upstate. I did a little hunting this week. All signs of a Roy Turpin ever existing, of course, have disappeared."
"Is this the recording of General Forglade's admission?" She tapped a fingernail on the flash drive. "There hasn't been anything in the news, Corban. I guess he didn't come forward like you'd hoped."
"It was expected. Even generals answer to someone. We have to find who has him so frightened."
"This terrorist bit has me real concerned." Chloe growled under her breath. "There are probably a hundred people you've situated in dangerous countries under Muhammad's cover, and those are just the ones I know about. If it comes out now that it was you all this time, those people will have to be warned."
"That could take months, and by then, it'd be too late." I kicked at a rock. "We have to handle this delicately. Interrogating the general and giving Muhammad three appearances in Europe hopefully caused a hiccup, but I doubt I've derailed their plans entirely."
"So, how do we proceed? Senator Nettleton's office? You trust this Rod Chang character, the assistant?"
"Trust? No. Do we need him? Maybe so. He didn't seem very pleased to hear that the TaTD is up to something covert on the senator's watch." A siren blared on the bridge above, then crossed into New Jersey. "Can you free up a couple days for me?"
"Sure. Zvi isn't due back until Saturday. What do you have in mind? Bring back Alpha Team? The boys would take this on like a hurricane."
"Nah. I'm thinking of a more subtle route. Just you and me. How about a bait and cover gig?"
"Fine, if you're the bait!" She laughed and slapped my shoulder.
"Good. Do what you do. Catch up to me by noon at the apartment building on 67th."
"Okay, but I'd sure feel better if we brought in a couple of the boys for overwatch."
"Those COIL teams are trained for foreign countries, not for this country with its restrictions and scrutiny. Too many laws to be aware of, Chloe. I need you to do this without alerting anyone."
"All right. It's your neck. See you at noon."
#######
I drove back to the squatters' building that morning with a nervous excitement in my gut that I associated with a feeling when I was about to face a superior adversary—and knowing I had the upper hand. Like walking through a Chinese border crossing with a suitcase of Bibles, or driving a carload of hunted Christian refugees out of Syria. God had been watching over me for years. He was watching over us still.
My family had been abducted, in a fashion, by whom I was certain was the Italian Luigi Putelli, a deadly man whose life I'd delivered three years earlier. Ever since that blistering day in the Bekoa Valley in Lebanon, Luigi Putelli had been shadowing my family, returning to me the debt he insisted he owed me. Though he wasn't a Christian, I'd involved him in training clandestine operators, like Nathan Isaacson, but mostly it was to keep Luigi near, exposing him to the gospel lived out through uncompromising Christians.
Regardless, I needed to somehow confirm that Luigi did indeed have Janice and Jenna. My blood pressure was definitely running high right now.
Ruth fixed breakfast for me—waffles from a box—and I relaxed on my sleeping bag as the two kids squealed and played. I'd been waiting for Ruth to make the first move since her commitment to Christ the previous Sunday. Sure enough, she began asking questions about the Bible and reading the Scriptures every chance she got. To me, this was initial evidence that her conversion was genuine. She wasn't merely a believer in what Jesus had done; she was born again, repentant of her past, proving that a miracle had occurred in her life. If Ben Vitco played his cards right, he might even get a devout, Christian wife.
*~*
Chapter 11
Much of a spy's life of interaction with people involved ambushing the lives of others. I employed this tactic under disguise as I slipped into Senator Nettleton's building in Tribeca, a few blocks from Manhattan's financial district. The senator's staff occupied four floors above the twentieth story, and I'd already called ahead to confirm an appointment.
In Texas flourish, I emerged from the elevator to be received by the receptionist. She seemed to identify me right away by my cowboy hat and cigars in my leather vest.
"Mr. Herbert Ephron, may I take your hat?" The receptionist rose from her wide desk and took my hat, setting it on a hook. She was taller than I was, but I wasn't so insecure that it bothered me. I'd been infiltrating foreign regimes for as many years as she was old. "The senator is expecting you."
Giving me VIP treatment, the woman opened both doors to a spacious office that faced south. The New York flag and photos of family spanned the only wall that wasn't glass.
Senator Nettleton greeted me like an old friend, though we'd never met. He had a fixed smile and narrow eyes, seemingly made for politics. He was chubbier and younger than I expected.
"Always a pleasure to meet a contributor, Mr. Ephron!" He shook my hand heartily, which was expected since I'd scheduled the meeting after disclosing a fabricated bank balance. "How long are you planning to be in the Big Apple?"
"Not long enough to miss my Lone Star beef!" I laughed boisterously, feeling the glue on my bushy mustache holding sure. "More than a couple days here and I'd go insane without the wide openness of my ranch. You ever been there? I'll show you livin'!"
"I might take you up on that." He gestured to his left. "My trusted advisor, Rod Chang. You two spoke on the phone, I believe."
"Pleasure, young man." I shook Chang's hand and locked eyes long enough to allow him to recognize me, but he didn't. Before that day, he'd seen me only in the darkness of the park and on the photo ID where I appeared to be Peter Mitchell. Hoping to maintain my disguise a little longer, I turned from Chang and plopped down in a wide soft chair. Though tempted to prop my cowboy boots onto his desk, I decided that might be too much. "I'd sure like to hear how you're working on our country, Senator, especially after all the recent headaches in the Middle East. Those A-rabs just don't stop, do they?"
"Well, you understand, Mr. Ephron, that I'm chairman of the domestic oversight committee." Nettleton folded his arms. "While those disturbances impact this country, my job is to keep home-front agencies funded, as well as keep the public safe."
"Of course, but when I hear about our own people dying on the streets of your city, you understand my concern." The senator and Chang exchanged glances, but I acted like I didn't notice as I offered cigars to the men. They both refused politely, then I lit up without asking permission. "I read the papers. When an agent friend dies in a car bomb, I want to know how I can make sure that never happens again."
Chang sat up straighter and Nettleton studied me more closely. I didn't have time to court these men all day. The Texas way was to go straight to the mark, even if I wasn't really a Texan.
"I'm assuming you're talking about Corban Dowler who died a week and a half ago." Nettleton tapped his desk calendar. "It was unfortunate, but after an investigation, we found it to be a case of mistaken identity. A local gang already claimed responsibility. I wasn't aware that Dowler had many friends who knew he'd been an agent for the US. Were you two close?"
"Closer than most, I suppose." I blew smoke at the ceiling. "We all know that was no accident, boys. Top CIA agents don't die by accident. I'm interested in contributing to your efforts, Senator, but I want to make sure the good guys are safe before I secure your office for the upcoming election."
"The investigation is closed, Mr. Ephron. Dowler was purely a tragic accident." Nettleton's voice raised an octave, a sign that I took to mean he was lying. "Bad things happen to good people. It's very sad."
"So are you working with the TaTD to cover up their assassination of a patriot, or are you intentionally keeping me out of the loop?"
Nettleton's mouth opened, but he closed it quickly and looked at Chang. As intended, I'd caught them unguarded. I glared at Nettleton, the pressure mounting. He was surely torn between the promise of my supposed millions and his own committee's secrets. Something wasn't right, but I wasn't finished watching him squirm.
"How would a cattle rancher from Texas know anything about the happenings here?" Nettleton asked.
"How come my contacts here know more about the death of an elite secret agent, and you know nothing?" I ground out my cigar on a coaster on his desk. "The TaTD—are you in bed with them or not? You one of General Logan Forglade's people or not?"
"No, I am not!" Nettleton's face was red. Of course, I knew Forglade answered to him. "I need to know how you know about this situation, and I need to know how much you know!" He scowled at Chang. "I thought you said this was zipped tight!"
"It is from our end." Chang folded his hands in front of him. "General Forglade may feel us closing in. That night generated some unguarded chatter. If the general knows we're tracking him, he may erase any record of what we're trying to do. As soon as we have the pieces in place, we'll bury Forglade."
"Okay." I nodded and sighed, my Texan drawl gone. "I had to be sure you two were still working for the home team. I'm not who I told you I was."
Chang rose from his chair and leaned over to stare at me in the face.
"I knew it!" He smiled at Nettleton. "It's Peter Mitchell, the Weltersand operative from Marcus Garvey Park I was telling you about."
"Mitchell?" Nettleton's brow furrowed, probably at the evaporated prospect of funding. "This is a little elaborate, isn't it?"
"Not with the TaTD on the prowl. Besides, I couldn't be sure you were interested in helping me."
"It's a little hard when we don't have all the facts," Chang said. "Your report justified an inquiry into the TaTD, but they're blocking every query we throw at them. General Forglade's even left the country."
"Yeah, I figured as much. Well, it's a lot more complicated than that." My heart skipped a beat. I had to trust someone besides Chloe, who was somewhere outside the building at that moment, watching my back and listening to my conversation through my belt buckle microphone. "Corban Dowler is still alive."
This was my final test. If they already knew that fact, then I'd know they were involved. Only those directly involved in the car explosion would know it wasn't meant to kill me. However, their faces seemed to show genuine surprise. Or shock. I prayed I was reading their faces accurately.
"What?" Chang gasped and closed his fingers around a fistful of his own hair. "Why would Dowler do all this? How do you know he's alive? That explains why his family is missing. He's put them somewhere safe."
I studied Chang and the words he used. Something still wasn't right with him, as if he were trying too hard. But I was encouraged that he'd looked in on my family.
"Yes, I've put them with someone I trust." I peeled off my mustache, though with some pain, but I left on the thick eyebrows. "Corban Dowler, gentlemen. Peter Mitchell doesn't exist. Chang, you said in the park that you knew of me when you were in the Logistics Division at Langley. Do you recognize me?"
"Uh . . . I guess so. I can't say I'd remember his, I mean, your face real well. No offense."
"Are you accusing us, Mr. Dowler?" Nettleton asked. "Or suspecting we're involved in this web of lies with the TaTD? I'm a senator, and I'm outraged that certain men have attacked citizens of this fine country!"
"Senator, I'm looking at everyone carefully. Remember, I was just blown up in a car!" Nettleton's defensiveness made me cautious, but I had to keep going. "The TaTD is for certain behind this. I questioned General Forglade in his car, and that's probably why he left the country. Though they never intended to kill me, they meant for me to think someone was trying to kill me so they could set me up while I was on the run. Now, I don't know the status of their plans, but I'm certain that Forglade wasn't working alone. He was afraid of someone else."
It took me twenty minutes to share what I knew from the general's admission, but I left out details of my squatters' residence, my family's safety with Luigi, and the recording of our conversation.
"So, whoever is behind General Forglade is who we need to pin down." Chang clenched a fist. "Enough playing around, Senator. We need to shut down the TaTD headquarters once and for all. Who knows who Forglade has corrupted against us!"
"Not so fast," I said. "It might scare the puppet master away if we jump before it's time. We need to know why he wanted my Muhammad ibn Affal cover in the first place. I can do that if I go inside the TaTD."
Chang and Nettleton looked at one another, communicating with their eyes. The TaTD was the key, I thought, but these two had secrets.
"Mr. Dowler . . ." Nettleton shook his head. "You're clever, and thank God you are! But you're just a civilian now. I can't sanction something like that. That's walking into the viper's nest down there. The TaTD may as well be considered a rogue agency with this latest move. I have a number of younger agents who—"
"With all due respect, Senator, I was in Iran during the Revolution. I've brokered arms deals between Israel and Pakistan, smuggled prisoners out of North Korea and agents into Saudi Arabian nuclear sites. Your agents are up against a foe who knows how they think. I'm an outsider. To them, I'm running scared, but I know what to look for. Give me a DOD ID for a routine liaison briefing, and I'll find out what the TaTD is up to. Whoever is filling in for the general at their headquarters will know something."
"Just how will you find out?" Chang shook his head. "How will you get it out of them by only a visit?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I stood and pressed my mustache back into place. "Whoever was using General Forglade won't run away if they think they're undetected. They may even try to go after Forglade because they'll know he got scared and talked. The one who Forglade left behind will lead us straight to the culprit."
"Let me throw this out there, Mr. Dowler," Nettleton said. "Wouldn't it have been easier to just give them the Muhammad identity at the beginning of all this?"
"Too many lives are dependent on that ID, gentlemen, lives that a dark heart wouldn't blink over when they're lost. But I'm a Christian now. God cares about every soul, and that means I need to care as well. If that doesn't make sense to you, then—"
"No, it makes sense to me." Nettleton stood and rested his hands on his hips. "I was raised that way. It's good to hear a man stepping out in faith, Mr. Dowler. Coordinate with Chang here. We'll back you, but only because I know you won't be killing your enemies. I've always admired COIL. Makes me feel a bit insignificant where the bigger picture is concerned."
"Change is a decision away," I challenged, then nodded to Chang. "You, too. God is looking for men who will admit their insignificance in themselves, and their significance in Him. That's what the cross is all about, saving us from ourselves, in Christ."
"Let's, uh, get to work," Chang said. He moved to the door, but when Nettleton and I looked at one another, we shared a knowing smile. At least I hoped that's what he was smiling about—that he understood the true impact the gospel could have on an individual's life.
*~*
Chapter 12
Because I sensed my time living in hiding was ending, I stopped by the squatters' apartment and collected my few personal belongings. I was leaving the generator and household provisions for Ruth.
"It's just as well that we're moving on," Ruth said as she ruffled Earl's hair. "I've been convicted about living in an illegal place. There's an older couple at the church that has a small basement apartment. They said me and the kids could move into it until I find work."
"That's great, Ruth. I'm glad to know you'll be okay." I swung my backpack over my shoulder. When I looked at her, I thought of my own family in the hands of Luigi, who'd become my family's bodyguard of sorts. How I missed them! "What do you want to do about Earl?"
"If I go to child services, I'll lose him." She gave a rattle toy to Jenny. "But if I keep him, I could lose him at any time. I should pray about it, right? No, don't tell me. Now that I'm a Christian, I know to do the right thing, even when it hurts."
