Andrew Peterson: First to Kill

Nathan had seen footage of buildings being demolished with explosives. Implosion, he believed they called it. But if you changed the pattern and timing of the charges, the buildings could fall more like trees, taking out other buildings like dominoes. If the Trade Center towers had fallen sideways, it would’ve been worse.

“What exactly do you want us to do?”

Frank leaned back in his wheelchair and stared out the window like a man looking back on his life and wondering about all the things he could’ve done differently. “The FBI is about to send SWAT teams under the command of the Sacramento Joint Terrorism Task Force to raid the compound. They have two objectives. The first is to recover the Semtex if it’s still there and the second is to determine the fate of my grandson. But the main plan is to put Freedom’s Echo out of business before that Semtex disappears.” Frank locked eyes with Nathan. “You two were the best covert ops team this country’s ever had. I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you guys were the best. What I need is for you to be my eyes and ears up there. I have a personal stake in this. It’s my grandson, my own flesh and blood. I no longer have the access I used to. I could make a call and get boilerplate information, but it wouldn’t be firsthand visual intelligence coming from a source I trust.”

“Okay.”

“Essentially, I want you to back up the FBI raid. Things could go badly, there could be a firefight. You guys were the best damned sniper team in the world. The FBI could use-”

“With all due respect,” Nathan cut in, “we don’t do that anymore. We aren’t hired guns. We run a security business. The FBI has its own sniper teams.”

Harv moved uncomfortably in his chair, but remained silent.

“I’m not asking you to be hired guns. I’m asking you to serve as a safety net for the SWAT teams in case things go south. These smugglers are hard-core guys. Elite-trained military. Now they’ve got Semtex. You could save lives. I cashed in a major favor with Director Lansing to involve you in this operation. He gave me the okay, but he’s considering it a don’t-ask, don’t-tell situation. I personally vouched for your integrity. I’m putting my reputation on the line here. If you’re willing to do this, then the trust will have to work both ways. You need to trust me, I need to trust you.”

“Then you must know the potential ramifications of what you’re asking us to do.”

Frank Ortega looked at Harv with a troubled, almost annoyed expression and Greg was gripping the armrests of his chair too tightly.

“I understand the ramifications, McBride. Do you?”

Nathan said nothing.

Ortega raised his voice a little. “There’s more at stake than just my grandson. That amount of loose Semtex on American soil makes this a national security issue as dangerous as any Al Qaeda threat. More dangerous. These guys are Americans, they look, act, and talk like us. They blend in. They’re invisible.”

Over the ticking of the regulator clock, no one spoke for several seconds.

“We have some conditions,” Nathan said.

“Conditions.”

“That’s right. Conditions. We’ll find your grandson and back up the SWAT teams, but we don’t want to be left standing when the music stops. Understood?”

“Clearly.”

“And we’ll need complete background and intelligence information on the targets and their compound.”

“Not a problem.”

“One more thing. No armchair quarterbacking. Once you turn us loose, that’s it. No second-guessing our moves. We do this our way, without interference, or we don’t do it at all.”

“Like I said, it’s an issue of trust in both directions.”

Frank pushed the file across the desk.

Nathan didn’t touch it. He knew what it was, what it represented.

“This is everything we have on Freedom’s Echo. Everything,” Frank said. “It’s an exact duplicate.”

Frank kept saying we . Understandable, the man had spent over forty years with the bureau.

“I’m coming with you,” Greg said.

“Out of the question.”

“He’s my son.”

“Out of the question.”

Greg stood and squared off with Nathan. “Listen, you son of a bitch, I don’t care who or what you used to be. He’s my son .”

Nathan got up and pivoted toward the door.

“Damn it, Greg,” Frank said. “McBride, wait. Please.”

Nathan stopped but didn’t turn around.

“We’re all under a lot of stress. Please, sit back down.”

Nathan didn’t move.

Please,” Frank said again.

“I need some air,” Nathan said and left the room.

Harvey stood and lowered his voice. “Damn it, Greg. What the hell was that all about?”

“McBride’s a smug asshole, that’s what.”

“Hey, I’ve known the man through life and death. He has a lot of faults, but being smug isn’t one of them.”

“Sounded like it to me.”

“Well, you heard him wrong. He’s not smug. He’s confident. You can’t see it because you’re too close to this. You’re asking us to risk our lives and if the situation warrants it, you’re asking us to kill. And we’ve said yes. But we can’t have the father of the missing agent involved, much less someone who’s never worked in the field. You’ve never killed anyone, Greg. Trust me, there’s nothing glamorous or exciting about it. This isn’t some half-baked Hollywood movie. We’re talking real bullets and real death. There’s no place for you in this mission.”

Greg looked down but didn’t respond.

“Now when he comes back,” Harvey continued, “don’t apologize. It won’t be necessary. Nathan doesn’t hold grudges and he knows you’re wound-up tight. We all are. When he offers to shake your hand, you take it, understood?”

No response.

“Am I getting through?”

“Yes.”

Nathan found Diane Ortega in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher. “May I trouble you for a glass of water, please?”

“It’s no trouble at all.” She retrieved a glass from the cabinet and pressed it into a small alcove in the refrigerator. She had a kind face that reminded him of his own mother. “I heard that last exchange, it was hard to miss. Will you sit with me a minute?”

Nathan pulled a bar stool out from the island for her.

“Thank you.” As they sat facing each other, Diane placed her hands in her lap. “It’s been difficult for Greg, his father being the former director of the FBI and all.”

“I can imagine.”

“You’ve seen the pictures in Frank’s office?”

“They’re impressive.”

“The bureau was Frank’s life, still is, I’m afraid. He’s always known it took a heavy toll on his family. I think if Frank had it to do over again, he would’ve spent more time with his family.” Diane’s face clouded for an instant. She looked like she was about to cry, but made a recovery. “Greg is our oldest, so he took it the hardest. I think he understands the sacrifice now, but some wounds never fully heal.” She reached out and held his hand. “Your father’s a lot like Frank, and you’re a lot like Greg.”

“I’m… not sure what to say.”

“Our time on Earth is limited, I’m understanding that now. We can’t change our pasts, but we can guide our futures.”

“I’ve killed fifty-seven people, Mrs. Ortega. It’s taken a long time, but I’ve come to terms with it. Finding your grandson might increase that number. Are you okay with that?”

She held his hand tighter. “I don’t see the world through rose-colored glasses. Being an FBI director’s wife has taught me that much. There are genuinely evil people out there. I’m sure you’re not indiscriminate. I trust your judgment.”