Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Revenge

“She’s fine, sir.”

“She’s coming to L.A. with me,” Walt said.

Defense Secretary Riggs said, “We’re examining our Iron Mountain contracts. They won’t be operating in the U.S. again. We’ve already brought their overseas teams in for debriefing.”

Merrick raised his eyebrows at Riggs. “When this is all over I want a serious discussion about the future of outsourcing the military.”

Riggs just nodded.

Merrick looked at Samuel Fisk. The Secretary of State sat with a stoic expression.

“How come you’re so quiet?” Merrick asked Fisk.

Fisk shrugged. “I’m waiting for someone to ask the right question.”

“Which is?”

“If the majority of the KSF is in L.A., why is Walt taking Nick’s wife there?”

Merrick looked around the table at closed mouths and averting eyes.

“Guys?” Merrick raised his voice. “What are you not telling me?”

Silence.

“Nick?” Merrick said.

Silence.

“Our nation’s security is at risk here, boys and girls,” Merrick said. “So you better not be allowing me deniability, because that takes me out of the loop. I need to know everything or I could make a poor decision.”

Merrick turned to Lynn Harding. She felt the weight of his authority as he kept staring at her.

“Mr. President,” she said with a low, reluctant tone. “There’s been conflicting opinions about the credibility of the LAX threat.”

Merrick leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Walt?”

“We found traces of Semtex in the border tunnels,” Walt said.

Merrick seemed to be losing his patience. “Go on.”

“Then a KSF member turned on his squad for leniency. He told us the KSF used the tunnels to bring Semtex into the country to bomb LAX.”

Merrick waited.

“Then,” Walt said, “a reporter for the L.A. Times received an anonymous tip about the LAX threat.”

Walt stopped. Merrick squinted in apparent confusion. He looked at Harding. “What’s the catch?”

Harding was about to speak when Nick Bracco took her off the hook.

“It’s too easy, sir,” Nick said over the speakerphone. “It’s like they’re dropping breadcrumbs on the floor for us to follow.”

“It’s good intelligence,” Ken Morris said with a tight face. “Why are we questioning good, hard work?”

“Nick?” Merrick said.

“Too easy,” Nick repeated. “I know these guys. It feels contrived.”

Morris shook his head in disgust. “Feelings? That’s what you’re going with?”

Merrick leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Nick?” he asked. “What do you think is going on?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet, Mr. President. But I will.”

Merrick grinned. “I know you will.”

“In the meantime, they need resources here in Payson,” Walt said.

“And that’s the argument?” Merrick asked.

“Pretty much,” Harding said.

“Nick,” Merrick said. “What do you need over there?”

“Not much, sir. One good investigator is worth more than fifty Marines. We just need a few good eyes and ears.”

Merrick looked at Dutton.

“I can send some people up from Phoenix,” Dutton said unenthusiastically.

“That help, Nick?” Merrick asked.

“Yes, sir,” Nick said. “How are the diplomatic channels going, sir?”

“Good question.” Merrick stared at his mug and twisted it between his fingers while in deep thought. He looked up at his press secretary. “Freddy, contact the Turkish Prime Minister and tell him we need a face-to-face meeting, at the White House.”

“But-”

Merrick held up his hand. “I know, he’ll want to speak with me on the phone. But I won’t. I’ve already sent him signals I might withdraw our troops from Turkey. This has him concerned I’m sure.”

“But, sir,” Himes said, “he’ll want to know if your threat is serious.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t speak with him over the phone. He’ll ask me that exact question and I don’t want to lie to him. I know Hakim, he’s a worrier. If he can’t get me on the phone, he’ll fly here to see me in person.” Merrick pointed to Fisk. “Remember the Environmental Conference in Brussels when his gift basket was smaller than Israel’s? He spent the entire weekend asking everyone what they’d received when they arrived. He’s neurotic.”

Merrick looked down at the speaker on the table. “Then, Nick, we can use his unexpected visit to Washington as a bargaining tool with the KSF. Let them know we’re beginning a conversation with the Prime Minister to resolve the conflict in Turkey.” He looked up at Himes. “Maybe we can leak something to the press about a possible withdrawal.”

“That’s a good tactic, sir,” Nick said. “Maybe buy us some time.”

Merrick smiled, seemingly proud of his diplomatic acumen.

“There’s one other thing we need to consider, sir,” Harding said. “The Russian. If he’s truly in D.C., then we can’t overlook the fact you might become a target.”

Merrick nodded, somber. “Okay. Let’s be careful.”

“Suggestion, sir,” Himes said. “We’ve been meaning to update the White House’s website. Let’s take it down for a few days and leave a message it’s being overhauled … no … improved. This way we can eliminate posting your daily schedule without its absence being conspicuous.”

“Good.” Merrick slapped his hands on the table and stood. “I have a budget meeting to attend so we can pay for some of these things.” He looked directly at Harding when he said, “Keep me informed.”

Jennifer Steele pulled over the Sherriff’s cruiser in front of the last house on their list. Luke hopped out of the car and stretched his arms over his head with a big yawn.

“You tired?” Steele asked.

“A little,” Luke said, looking up at the twilight. Stars were beginning to peek through the atmosphere as the sun made its exit.

The cruiser was parked thirty yards from the large cabin in the gravel street right next to the mailbox. The road was completely secluded without a neighbor in sight. Across the street from the cabin was nothing but thick pines and a sharp drop-off.

Luke stepped toward the house, crunching his way up the drive while Steele stayed with the car and examined the realtor’s information sheet about the place. It was an investment property which was rented by an out-of-state owner for passive income. Not uncommon in these parts of Arizona. The renter had prepaid for an entire year with cash. That wasn’t so common. Why part ways with your money unless you have a reason? Like not wanting to pay with cash each month and becoming conspicuous. Luke found his way to the side of the house and stuck his face up against a garage window.

“One car,” he said in a low voice.

Steele finished examining the rental info and stuck the sheet on the passenger’s seat and closed the door. She continued up the gravel driveway and examined the grounds. Mostly pines with decorated rocks around the exterior. A few clumps of weeds seemed ready to sprout, but with winter coming their growth would be seriously threatened. She was halfway up the driveway when she heard something behind her. It was a mechanical sound, out of place in this serene setting.

Steele walked back down the driveway toward the woods opposite the cabin. She didn’t hear the noise again until she moved left to get around the car. She stopped. The noise stopped. She moved right to go around the front of the car and the noise began again. She stopped. The noise stopped.

Steele’s instincts told her to leave.

“Luke,” she said over her shoulder.

There was no response.

She moved to the back of the car and zoned in on the noise this time. It was a tiny camera, perched atop one of the pine trees. It was following her movement and being a bit noisy about it. Probably a drop of oil might’ve taken care of it, but now it had her attention.