Peter Kirsanow - Target Omega

“Tell me about it,” Garin said.

“Oh, I’ll do just that. For what it’s worth, I’m told the FBI has figured out that you’re somehow involved in a matter of two corpses in the otherwise tranquil and bucolic suburb of Dale City,” Dwyer said. His tone went from jocular to serious. “This is as bad as it gets, Mikey. What can you tell me?”

“That it’s even worse than you think. It’s not just law enforcement that’s after me. I have reason to believe Delta Force is involved, too.”

“As bad as things are, Mike, I think you have a seriously inflated view of your importance. Delta can’t do domestic operations. You know that.”

“I also know that someone has the capability to take out seven members of my team and make it look like I did it. They also seem to have the ability to track me anywhere I go. And they’ve sent two separate teams to kill me.”

Dwyer focused on the last item. “So I suppose sometime soon someone’s going to tell me about a second set of corpses.” It was not a question.

“Probably,” Garin replied. “I’m going to give you a description and you tell me your reaction: sniper, African American, dark complexion, about six feet four and 220 pounds. Shaved head. Goatee with kind of a pointed tip—”

“Congo Knox,” Dwyer said before Garin could finish.

“And now, genius, just who is he with?” Garin asked.

“Delta.”

“He was gunning for me this morning.”

“If Congo Knox were gunning for you, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now. You’d be in a rubber bag.”

“He didn’t see me,” Garin explained. There was silence on the other end. Garin knew Dwyer was considering the import of what he had just heard.

Dwyer exhaled slowly. “Okay. What do you need?” A note of fatalism had crept into his voice.

“First, for you to stay alive. Nearly everyone I’ve been in contact with the last forty-eight hours is dead. They — whoever ‘they’ are — are going to come after you. In fact, you were probably at the top of their kill list because of our history. But your palace guard has probably made things a little more difficult for them. Regardless, get even more security.”

“Matt and Carl can handle anything that comes up,” Dwyer assured him.

“No, they can’t. I remember Matt and Carl. Let’s see, Matt’s former Australian SAS. Carl’s former Recon Marine, right? Sharp, tough. But these guys who were after me, whoever they are, took out Gene Tanski right in front of my eyes. They got Camacho, Gates… everybody. Don’t take any chances. Double up. Don’t go anywhere without a detail.”

“Are you saying Congo Knox will be after me, too?” There was a hint of concern in Dwyer’s voice.

“I don’t think so. My guess is that whoever targets you will be Middle Eastern. Now that you’ve told me that the national security advisor is suspicious of the Russians and Iranians, I would guess they’re likely Iranian.”

“Okay, I’ll increase security.”

“Second, I need a place to stay in the metro area.”

“You’re staying here? Not smart,” Dwyer said.

“I’m not staying there. That is, I’m not there now. But I’m coming back. Look, they’ve found me wherever I go. It doesn’t matter where I am. Somehow they show up. So I may as well be where I can fight back.”

Dwyer thought for a second and using the code for a DGT safe house said, “Alexandria Four. Do you need me or someone else to meet you there?”

“No. Do I need a key or does it have electronic access?”

“Key.”

“Leave the key taped to the lid of one of the garbage cans in back. How’s the place stocked?”

“The place is Metz on the Potomac. You could hold off the Third Army for weeks,” Dwyer replied. “Mike. Listen—”

Garin cut him off. “Dan, I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m asking you to jump into the impressive pile of excrement with me. You’re aiding and abetting someone the FBI is looking for. Day and the rest of those sanctimonious clowns have already painted a target on your back. Putting you in this position isn’t something I’d do by choice.” Garin exhaled. “But it looks like I’ve really hit the trifecta here. I’ve got the FBI, foreign-looking bad guys, and Delta after me. At minimum. That means someone’s up to something very big and very bad.”

“But that’s not what I’m concerned about,” Dwyer stressed. “Well, okay, it’s one of the things, but it’s not what I was about to get into. I was going to ask, is there anyone in a position of authority you can trust? Someone up the food chain who can help?”

“No. I’m a grunt. I don’t have friends in high places. You know that. And even if I did, I don’t know who may be involved. But that brings me to my third point. What do you think of Brandt’s aide — what was her name?”

“Olivia Perry.”

“What do you think she really wanted from you?”

“Just what she said. I think she’s sincere. She and Brandt believe the Russians and Iranians are up to something. More specifically, they think Iran may be poised to use weapons of mass destruction — probably a nuke against Israel. Since you’re the counter-WMD guy and your entire team was assassinated — well, I guess they think it’s all related. For what it’s worth, she thinks you had nothing to do with your team getting wiped out.”

“What do you think she would do if you told her that you’ve been in touch with me?” Garin asked.

“You mean, do I think she would go to the FBI?”

“Yes.”

“I only met her for a brief time this morning. But if I had to guess, I’d say she’s indifferent about going to the FBI. She wouldn’t do it if she thought it would compromise her ability to get a handle on what the Russians and Iranians are doing,” Dwyer said. “Want my advice? Let me talk to her. You need all the help you can get, and even then it may not be enough. You need an ally who’s more plugged in than a broken-down former SEAL.”

Garin thought precisely the same thing. There was, of course, significant risk to engaging anyone in a position of authority. But even if she did go to the FBI, she wouldn’t be able to tell them where he was, only that he’d been in contact with Dwyer.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Garin said. “Not that I’m eager to get you in trouble, Dan, but having Brandt in my corner would be very helpful.”

“The question is, do you have anything that could be useful to Brandt?”

“I might,” Garin said. “But let’s not give them everything at once. Let’s proceed cautiously and see how they react.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Call her back. She wants to know about me? Tell her what you know.”

“What should I say is the reason for my getting back in touch?”

“That I called you. Hell, be up front. I told you to contact her, but I need help, and in return, I’m willing to provide as much information as I can.”

“I’ll call right away. Anything else?”

“No. Thanks. Anyway, I’ve got to get off. Too much time.”

“This call is secure,” Dwyer said with a bit of indignation. He had spent a considerable sum ensuring that his calls couldn’t be monitored.

“No such thing. I’ll be in touch. One last thing. It looks like my former mentor is dead,” Garin said softly, referring to Clinton Laws. “Make an anonymous call to the National Park Service or the police department closest to Kings Canyon. Tell them to look for a body along a road.”

MOUNT VERNON, VIRGINIA

JULY 15 3:55 P.M. EDT

Brandt had been right, as usual.

After leaving the morning meeting with Dwyer, Olivia had stopped briefly at her apartment before going to Brandt’s office in the White House. She had informed Brandt that Dwyer had provided little useful information, but it seemed as if he might be holding back. Brandt predicted that Dwyer would be in touch again soon with more information. The first meeting had merely served as an opportunity for Dwyer to assess Olivia. Sure enough, a few hours later Dwyer called Olivia for another meeting.