Rogue Commander, page 14
part #3 of Titus Black Series
“You get my daughter back and I won’t care what you call this.”
Shields nodded at the handkerchief. “We’re out of the city limits,” she said. “Put on the blindfold.”
He complied and leaned back against the headrest. “This is such a beautiful drive. I hate that I’m missing it.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“Not seeing where I’m going is for my own good? Some might say this is a little out of the ordinary.”
“If you saw it—”
“You’d have to kill me, right?” he blurted out, finished her statement.
“Your wisdom will serve you well when you’re being questioned. Just remember that, and you’ll be fine.”
“Who’s going to question me?”
“You’ll meet him soon enough.”
They drove along for a couple hours in silence before she slowed down and turned off the highway and onto a gravel road, complete with several washboard sections.
“How are your teeth holding up?” she asked as her SUV rattled with each bump.
“This is the first time in my life when I wish I had dentures.”
“That good, huh?” she asked with a smile.
She turned and twisted with the road for another ten minutes before finally coming to a halt.
“Hold your hands out,” she said.
“Is this really necessary?” Riley asked.
“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t ask,” she said before securing his wrists with a zip tie.
She hustled around to the other side of the car and opened his door. He complied with her nudges while guiding him through the front door. Once inside, she removed his blindfold.
“Major Riley, please have a seat,” J.D. Blunt said.
Riley settled onto the leather couch and ran his hand across the contours of one of the arms. “Luxurious digs you have here.”
Shields nodded at Black before easing into the corner to watch Blunt’s legendary interrogation tactics.
“I’m sure you understand that we didn’t bring you here to discuss furniture, Major Riley,” Blunt said.
“Then quit beating around the bush,” Riley said. “I’m only here because I was promised that you might be able to help me regain custody of my daughter.”
“Yes, full custody,” Blunt said. “But you’re going to need to do everything we ask of you.”
“I’ll need it in writing, along with full immunity for everything I’ve done and everything I’ll have to do,” Riley said.
Blunt sat down and nudged a file folder across the coffee table toward Riley. “Already done.”
Riley picked up the documents and perused them for a moment. He shrugged and then signed at the end.
When he finished, Blunt collected the papers and handed them to Black. “Make sure those are all in order.”
After about a minute, Black nodded knowingly at Blunt.
“All right, Major Riley,” Blunt said. “It’s time to start talking. You can start off by telling us how you became The Ghost.”
Riley cocked his head and furrowed his brow. “The Ghost? Is that what you people call me?”
Blunt shrugged. “Originality isn’t always the intelligence community’s strong suit.”
Riley chuckled. "I never considered myself a ghost, especially now. It's hard to see a ghost, but here I am."
“We know there are more than one of you,” Shields said as she stepped forward.
“Yes, I’m a member of a network, which I'm assuming you already know all about,” Riley said.
“Tell us more about it,” Blunt said. “Who’s behind it?”
“I don’t know.”
Blunt narrowed his eyes before grabbing the file and holding it up. “This is only subject to you telling us everything we want to know. And I mean everything.”
Riley drew back. “I swear, I don’t know who runs this organization. I had a buddy from the Rangers approach me when he heard I needed some cash to hire a big law firm to get my daughter back. That’s all.”
“Who’s your buddy?” Blunt asked.
“Lance Orme. But he’s dead now. Died in a freak automobile accident a few months ago.”
Blunt slapped the folder down on the coffee table. “How do they contact you to let you know about your targets?”
“It’s not really targets, per se. They contact me about a mission. They call them expeditions.”
“And how does that work?”
Riley bit his lip and shook his head subtly. “Look, I know you want to take these guys down, but I gotta warn you that they’re dangerous, very dangerous.”
Blunt didn’t flinch. “How does it work?”
“It’s real simple. I got a key delivered via express mail for a locker at some place in the city. I go there and get instructions on what to do. I’ve stipulated that all my assignments are to take place overseas, but I recently had an assignment locally.”
Blunt grunted. “Locally?”
“Okay, well, since we’re being open here. I’m assuming you know that was me at your house, Senator.”
“You wouldn’t likely be here otherwise,” Blunt said. “You screwed up. Didn’t expect a sharpshooter to spray your DNA all over the wall, did you?”
“If they were that sharp, they wouldn’t have missed,” Riley said.
Shields bristled at the comment. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“Oh, so it was you?” Riley asked. “My chauffeur? If I would’ve known that—”
“I wouldn’t try to puff your chest out if I were you,” Blunt said, wagging his finger at Riley. “Now, what else can you tell us?”
“Once I get the expedition instructions, I travel somewhere, and when I reach the destination airport, I get all the details on the target.”
“And how many of you are there?” Blunt asked.
“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Like I said, I don’t even know who’s in charge of this thing.”
Blunt stood and started to pace around the room. “Do you have any current assignments?”
Riley shook his head. “The last one I had was you, a quick local one-off job, according to the note I received.”
“Do you have a way of contacting your handler?” Blunt asked.
“Only in an emergency.”
Blunt pulled a cigar out of his pocket and snipped off the end. “Well, consider yourself in an emergency.”
CHAPTER 26
Washington, D.C.
BLACK WHEELED THE surveillance van around the corner of 16th Avenue and Euclid St., due north from the White House. Meridian Hill Park wasn’t one of Washington’s more popular tourist attractions, but it had a storied history and offered dramatic views of the city. And due to all the nooks and crannies surrounding the garden architecture, there were a plethora of spots to pass information in public without drawing any scrutiny.
“Go initiate contact,” Blunt said. “Just don’t get cute. There are other agents on the scene.”
Black patted Riley on the back. “He’ll be fine.”
Riley slid open the door of the van and ventured into the park. Using a pair of binoculars, Black followed Riley’s path, noting that he sat down on a bench in the southeast corner of Meridian Hill.
“Seriously?” Shields blurted out.
“What are you seeing that I’m not?” Black asked.
“A white chalk mark on the bench,” she said. “Doesn’t anybody get creative anymore?”
Riley opened up a copy of The Washington Post and appeared to read it for a few minutes before folding it up and then walking away.
“Now the real fun begins,” Shields said.
“You call stakeouts fun?” Blunt asked as they watched Riley head toward the van. “This is what I consider torture. I’d tell you anything you wanted to know rather than be subjected to a stakeout.”
“That’s because you don’t know how to make a game out of it,” she said. “You get points for things that happen on your watch, mega bonus points if you witness a crime or see a couple sneaking off having an affair.”
Blunt shrugged. “Perhaps I don’t appreciate the subtle art of voyeurism like you do. And I intend to keep it that way.”
“I prefer to keep it old school,” Black said. “Cup of bitter coffee from the diner around the corner. Philly cheesesteak from the street vendor a block away. The Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever motion picture soundtrack playing on the radio.”
"You had me up until the Bee Gees," Blunt said. "I always hated that disco crap. It's like rap music. Any no-talent hack can do it."
“Come on,” Black said. “You can’t say the Bee Gees didn’t have talent.”
Blunt’s eyebrows shot upward. “I believe I just did. Give me the smooth baritone voice of Johnny Cash any day of the week over some scraggly ragamuffin who sounds like someone has his underwear lodged in a most uncomfortable position.”
Black chuckled as he opened the door for Riley.
“Did I miss something?” Riley asked.
“Just an honest assessment of the Bee Gees from our resident music critic.”
“I hate the Bee Gees,” Riley said.
“Better watch out, Black,” Blunt said. “This guy here might take your job.”
“So, now what?” Black asked.
Riley placed the newspaper on the console. “Now we wait.”
“Wait for what?” Blunt asked.
“If someone from Leviathan wants to engage with me, they will make a mark on the bench by noon the following day, and then the day after that I’ll go to a prescribed location by noon, dependent on the color of the chalk.”
“So nothing for you to do the rest of today,” Blunt said. “Let’s go and leave these two to do the real work.”
Black escorted Blunt and Riley over to an SUV driven by Brady Hawk, another Firestorm agent who was between assignments and had volunteered to assist on the operation. Once everyone was seated, Black handed Riley a blindfold and told him to put it on.
“While you’re driving them back to the safe house, don’t dare play any disco unless you want to make Blunt grumpy,” Black said.
“Don’t worry about that in this car,” Hawk said. “If we do any 70s music, it’s classic rock all the way. A little Bob Seger, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zeppelin. I’ve got a playlist cued up and ready to go whenever the mood strikes.”
“The mood is striking me now,” Blunt said. “All I hear is that falsetto screeching in my head now.”
“Roger that,” Hawk said.
Black closed the door and slapped the side a couple of times before watching the vehicle pull into traffic. He returned to the van and started the stakeout.
“Who peed in Blunt’s cereal this morning?” Shields asked.
“I don’t know, but at least we can conduct our stakeout the way we want,” Black said.
She pulled out her camera and zoomed in on the location.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Nothing yet,” she said. “Maybe you should get me one of those crappy cups of coffee since we’re going to be here a while.”
* * *
AS EACH PASSERBY walked, jogged, or ran near the bench, Shields captured their face using her zoom lens. Then she used facial recognition software to identify the individuals in the FBI’s database. Every name was then passed along to Mallory Kauffman, who agreed to help monitor phone calls of the potential suspects until midnight.
Each person seemed rather benign. When they finished, Black shook his head and smiled.
“What’s got you over there grinnin’ like a opossum eating a sweet potato?” she asked.
“A what?”
“Never mind.”
“I was just thinking about the fact that we probably discovered the largest concentration of saints in the city,” he said. “Everyone who’s walked by that bench so far belongs to the biggest collection of people who’ve never as much as pondered breaking the law. I don’t even think anybody had as much as a parking ticket.”
“You’re right,” she said. “We caught a librarian, a hair stylist, a dog walker, a kindergarten teacher, a museum curator, and a traffic cop. And not a single one of them jumps out to me as someone who might be filling up his or her coffers from a secret group of assassins.”
By midnight, they were on their way home when Kauffman’s number popped up on Shields’s cell phone.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” she said. “I’ve got Agent Black with me.”
“Great because you’ll both want to hear this,” Kauffman said. “I didn’t think we were going to get anything, but about a half-hour ago, Will Paxton made a strange call to a burner phone. The only thing he said was, ‘The litter box needs to be changed,’ and then hung up. I’m sending you his address.”
“I appreciate your help on this one,” Shields said. “It’s always good to have a friend at the NSA.”
Shields ended the call and then glanced at Black. “Will Paxton? Which one was he?”
“The dog walker.”
“If I had to bet, I was going to put my money was on the librarian.”
“Really? Librarians truly are saints.”
Shields shrugged. “We’ll corner him in the morning and hope that leads somewhere.”
* * *
BLACK AND SHIELDS WERE STANDING on the sidewalk outside Will Paxton’s apartment when he emerged just after 8:30 a.m. He was arranging a handful of leashes and didn’t see the two agents.
“Got a busy morning?” Black asked.
Paxton looked up for the first time since he had exited his building. “Little guys need their exercise.”
He returned to his sorting and then walked with his head down, unaware that the two strangers hadn’t moved. Paxton bumped into Black and bounced backward.
“Excuse me,” Paxton said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still standing there.”
“We need to talk, Will,” Black said.
Paxton furrowed his brow. “How do you—”
“Do you take care of cats?” Shields asked.
“What?” Paxton asked.
“Simple question, Will. Do you walk cats?”
Paxton scrunched up his nose and drew back. “Cats? Have you ever seen a cat walker?”
“No, but I’ve only seen dog walkers in commercials,” Black said. “That’s the only way I know that’s a thing.”
“You need to get out more,” Paxton said. “So, I’m confused. Do you need someone to take care of your cats?”
Black grunted and shook his head. “I’m a dog person.”
“Then why are you two asking me about this?”
“The litter box needs to be changed,” Black said.
Paxton dropped his handful of dog leashes and took off running. He darted out to a sizable lead with his surprise dash. But it only took about fifty meters for Black to catch Paxton and wrestle him to the ground.
“I see you want to do this the hard way,” Black said as he jerked Paxton to his feet.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paxton said, raising his hands in surrender.
“You didn’t make a phone call to a random number last night and the entire conversation consisted of ‘the litter box needs to changed’?” Black asked.
“No, man, I’m totally clueless what this is all about.”
“Think again,” Shields said. “If you like, I’ll play back the recording we have of you saying it.”
Paxton exhaled and looked skyward. “I don’t know who you are, and I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Black eased open the right flap of his jacket, revealing his gun. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”
“Who are you people?” Paxton asked.
“You’re not in trouble,” Shields said. “At least, not yet anyway. We just need to know about the person you called last night.”
“I already told you that I don’t know anything.”
“Last chance,” Black said. “If you don’t tell me what I need to know, you’re going to take a little trip with us. I’m sure your clients won’t appreciate you leaving their dogs unwalked for the next couple of days—if you can find them.”
“I’ve got GPS trackers on all their collars,” Paxton said. “Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on here. Are you guys with the government?”
“We ask the questions here, Will,” Shields said.
Paxton sighed. “So, it’s like this. A couple of years ago, this guy approached me and asked me if I’d like to make a little extra income. I told him I’d do it as long as it wasn’t illegal. He assured me it wasn’t but said it had to do with national security.”
“And you believed him?” Shields asked.
“He had an FBI badge. I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know.”
“Continue,” Black said.
Paxton shrugged. “That’s about the extent of it. He asked me to cruise through Meridian Hill Park every day and check a bench to see if there was a chalk mark on it. If there isn’t anything, I do nothing. But if there is, I make a phone call to a number and say the line about the litter box. That’s it.”
“Do you remember what this person looked like?”
“Older guy, bald, real direct. Kinda like that guy from the TV show Lost?”
“Terry Quinn?” Shields asked. “I love that show.”
“I don’t know the actor’s name. But that’s who he reminded me of.”
“Have you ever seen him again?” Black asked.
“Nope, just that one time.”
“And the money is still there every month?” Shields asked.
“Every month, without fail.”
“And that’s it?” Black asked.
Paxton nodded. “That’s it.”
“All right. Don’t say a word about this to anyone,” Black said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re not in trouble. However, if you tell, you will be. And I can promise you that it’d be a decision you’d regret for the rest of your short life.”
“Okay, man. I get it. Mum’s the word.”
Black patted Paxton on the shoulder. “Keep this secret like your life depends on it, because it does.”
Black and Shields watched Paxton hustle down the sidewalk, pulling out his phone to search for the dogs that had scattered.
