Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Greed

“So we ignore them?” Merrick said in a huff. “Then what happens when the bomb explodes and we haven’t been ahead of the incident, warning our people?”

Fisk stood and wiped his hands on a small white towel hanging from a hook on the wall. He went over to the President and gripped his shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said. “I know these guys. They’re publicity whores. They’re like a five-year-old screaming in a grocery store. Let them scream. We’ve got the right people in place. Let them do their job.” He let go of Merrick and remained in front of him while the President folded his arms and looked up at the bigger man.

“Who’s down there?” Merrick asked.

“Nick Bracco.”

Merrick winced. “Hasn’t that guy done enough? Does the entire country’s safety fall on the shoulders of one man?”

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” Fisk looked down for a moment. “Also. . Matt McColm’s girlfriend, Jennifer Steele. . she was killed by one of Antonio Garza’s crew.”

Merrick stood still and shook his head. “Shit,” he murmured.

“Walt’s in Arizona this morning for the funeral,” Fisk said.

Merrick put it together in his mind. “So Garza’s the one transporting the bomb?”

“Yes.”

Merrick nodded. “And Nick is going after him for killing three FBI agents.”

“That’s another motivating factor, yes.” Fisk walked around Merrick with his hands behind his back. “There’s one other thing. We have an operative down in Mexico. Someone who has dealt with Garza. He seems to know where the bomb is and will notify his contacts when the time is right.”

“And?”

“And Ken needs two million in black ops money to fund their contractor’s operative.”

Merrick sighed. “What’s going on, Sam? How come I’m being told this at such a late date?”

Fisk pursed his lips. “Because we have issues down in the terrorist War Room. If we continue on this same path of information segregation, we’ll be relying on luck more than data.”

Merrick turned his back to Fisk and contemplated his options. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll approve the black ops fund, but only. . and I mean only if we schedule a meeting for the end of the week where I’ll put an end to this info divide.”

“Okay.”

“And I want a plan “B” set up immediately. I’m not going to sit at my desk and wait for a bomb to explode before we react. I have a responsibility to the civilian population to protect them from these types of attacks. I want a continuous update e-mailed every couple of hours. If I have to evacuate a city or county, I’ll do it. I don’t care about the political ramifications.” He turned back to face Fisk. “Is that clear enough, Sam?”

Fisk nodded. “I’ll pass it on.” As he headed for the door, he added with a grin, “Mr. President.”

A large crowd of family and friends milled around Jennifer Steele’s gravesite clutching balled-up tissues and wiping their puffy eyes. They held each other close as one sob bled into another. The priest dipped his fingers into a chalice and sprinkled holy water over the casket while reciting a prayer in Latin. Nick felt Julie tremble in his grip, her head dug deep into his shoulder.

The cemetery was on a twelve acre lot of green rolling hills and overgrown pine trees in Payson, Arizona. A dirt lane curled around the grounds for cars to drive into the appropriate grassy parking area. Matt stood next to Jennifer’s mother who flew in from New Mexico; occasionally the widow would collapse into Matt’s arms while grieving over her only child’s premature death.

Finally, the priest turned toward the assemblage of mourners and opened the Bible. “Beloved members of the Steele family, friends, acquaintances, and all who gather to pay their respects to this wonderful woman,” the priest began.

Just the tone of his voice sent the throng of onlookers into a frenzy of anguish. He continued on about Steele’s courageous life and how she was in a better place, but this wasn’t going to stop the agony. Nick couldn’t bear to hear much more. He kept a close eye on his partner who was holding up quite well under the circumstances.

Nick looked over his shoulder to see Walt Jackson standing in the periphery, respectful, but not wanting to mingle too much. He’d already been to two other funerals that week. He looked as if he’d aged five years over the past seven days.

“So it is worthy of note that her soul will be with our Father. .” the priest continued. This certainly didn’t help. Even the believers were blowing their nose.

To Nick’s right, a small cloud of dust meandered across the hilltops finding its way toward them in a serpentine fashion. The trail was preceded by a blue sedan.

“She’s in Heaven, right?” Julie whispered in Nick’s ear.

It caught him off guard. There was a man who’d devoted his entire life to the Lord standing fifteen feet away from them, and yet Julie still needed to hear it from Nick. The voice of authority.

“Yes,” Nick whispered. “She’s in Heaven.”

Julie nodded to herself, satisfied with the answer, still trusting her husband with the important stuff.

Movement came into Nick’s periphery. The blue sedan slowly pulled into an open patch of grass and stopped. The door opened and Nick breathed a sigh of relief. His cousin, Tommy, came around the rental car wearing a black sports coat and chewing on a purple toothpick tucked into the corner of his mouth. In his left hand was a single red rose. He greeted Walt with a firm handshake, then fist-bumped Stevie who seemed thrilled to see him.

Nick nodded and Tommy winked back. Julie followed Nick’s gaze and gasped with delight when she saw who’d arrived. She immediately twisted out of Nick’s grip and ran into Tommy’s arms, squealing with a combination of joy and heartache. Tommy gathered her into a bear hug. The spectacle even caused the priest to lose his focus for a moment before gaining his stride once again.

For Nick it was pure pleasure. Tommy and Julie had shared some real history together. He was much more than just family. Nick heard Tommy say, “Where’s my godson?”

Julie explained in a soft voice how Thomas was being watched by some neighbors. Actually, Thomas was being watched by some neighbors and a squad of FBI agents who’d flown into Payson just to protect Nick’s family.

The priest continued with a passage from the Bible Nick recognized as John 11:25. “I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in Me, though he may die, yet shall he live.”

Once again this didn’t achieve the desired effect as the sniffles increased and the sobs gained volume.

Tommy took a wide route around the gathering until he slowly approached the casket. He stood over the remains of Jennifer Steele with his hands together and lowered his head. He stayed in that position for a couple of minutes while the priest seemed to be winding down his sermon. Finally, Tommy leaned over and placed the red rose, then bent all the way down to kiss the top of the casket. There was something intimate about the way he gently caressed the mahogany, then turned and walked around to the back of the crowd.

As with most funerals, there was an awkward period at the end where the family feels the need to thank the guests for coming and Matt did most of the leg work for Mrs. Steele while she tried to maintain her composure.

Nick, Walt, Stevie and Tommy found their way up a hill to the shade of a tall pine and greeted one another properly.

“Good to see you, Tommy,” Walt said, letting him know the FBI is still grateful for his past assistance with rounding up terrorists on US soil.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Good to be back in the States.”

“Where’d you go?” Stevie asked.