The Hit

Chapter





67





THERE WERE FIVE MEN IN the room:

Evan Tucker.

Blue Man.

Gus Whitcomb, the APNSA.

The director of the FBI, Steve Colwell.

And the president of the United States.

The president said, “Any leads on who killed Howard Decker?”

Colwell shook his head. “Not yet, sir. It was an execution-style hit. We’ve recovered the bullet, but we have no gun to match it to.”

The president looked incredulous. “And no one saw anything? They were in a damn public park.”

“We’ve made inquiries,” said Colwell. “Unfortunately, we’ve turned up no witnesses yet.”

Tucker said, “There might not be any witnesses. If it was a professional hit they would have made sure there was no one around.”

“But for what purpose?” asked the president.

Blue Man said, “It might be tied to Decker’s Intelligence Committee activities.”

“Is it also tied to the deaths of Gelder and Jacobs?” asked the president. He leaned back in his chair and studied the other men in the room, looking them over one by one, awaiting an answer.

Tucker said, “Well, they all were involved in the intelligence field. At least it’s a common theme.”

The president gazed at Colwell. “And we’re no closer to solving those murders, are we?”

“We’re making some progress,” said Colwell lamely.

“Good to hear,” said Tucker. “Some progress is always welcome, whatever minimal form it might take.”

The two directors shared a nasty glance.

Whitcomb said sharply, “And there is the matter of the Amtrak train. Casualties and what looks to be a considerable cover-up.” He paused and gave a sideways glance at the president. “And there is of course the outstanding issue of Jessica Reel. And now, apparently, if I’m reading the tea leaves correctly, Will Robie.” He gazed at Tucker. “Is Robie still off the grid?”

Tucker nodded before glancing at Blue Man and then quickly looking away.

“And what might Robie be doing off the grid?” asked Whitcomb.

Tucker shrugged. “I wish I knew, Gus.”

Whitcomb continued, “When I spoke with Robie—before he went off the grid,” he added in a contemptuous tone—“he told me several troubling things.” He glanced at the president, who seemed to be aware of what Whitcomb was about to say.

The president nodded encouragingly. “Go ahead, Gus. We need to get all this aired.”

Whitcomb said, “Robie told me that Janet DiCarlo was troubled by unexplained incidents at the agency.” He looked sharply at Tucker. “Your agency.”

“What sorts of things?” Colwell wanted to know.

Whitcomb looked at his tablet. “Missing personnel. Missions that never should have happened. Missing money. Missing equipment.”

Colwell looked surprised but also somewhat pleased by this revelation.

“Serious allegations,” said the president.

“Serious allegations indeed,” echoed Colwell.

The president continued, “I am well aware that we had some enemies of this country placed very close to home.” He shot a glance at Colwell. “And it wasn’t simply at CIA. It was at your agency as well.” Colwell immediately lost most of his cocksure manner.

The president returned his gaze to Tucker. “I thought it an isolated incident. I am sitting here almost entirely due to the courage and skill of Will Robie. If he thought something was still wrong, then so do I. If he said that DiCarlo was worried, I believe him.”

“And yet he’s gone off the grid,” said Colwell.

“That could be explained any number of ways,” said Whitcomb.

“If he’s teamed up with Jessica Reel, and she was responsible for the deaths of Jim Gelder and Doug Jacobs, then any explanation would be highly problematic,” noted Tucker ominously.

Blue Man glanced at him, but Tucker continued, “I have heard theories that Gelder and Jacobs were traitors to this country. I am aware that a former analyst to the CIA, Roy West, was recently killed. And that Reel and Robie might have been there.”

“That’s the first we’ve heard of such speculation,” snapped Whitcomb.

“Because that’s what it is, speculation,” countered Tucker. “I don’t know where people stand on this thing. I don’t know if Reel and/or Robie are on our side or not. What I do know is that people are dying and there has to be a good reason for that. The stakes surrounding this matter must be astronomically high. But no one has been able to figure out what they are or where the motivations lie.”

“And Decker?” said Whitcomb quietly. “Could he also be involved somehow? Perhaps a traitor too? Might Reel have killed him too?”

“I don’t know,” said a clearly frustrated Tucker. “I just don’t know.”

Whitcomb said, “Robie told me that he believed it was Jessica Reel who saved his and DiCarlo’s life that night. That she was the countersniper who left all the shell casings. If that is the case then I am hard pressed to see how she could be a traitor.”

“If she shot and killed Jacobs and Gelder, she is at the very least a murderer,” snapped Tucker, but then he seemed to regret his loss of temper. He went on more calmly, “If they were traitors, that’s why we have courts. You don’t go around and just shoot people because you suspect them of some wrongdoing.”

“Yes, but be that as it may,” said Whitcomb, “I’m not prepared to come down so hard on Reel if the men had turned against their country. There is nothing in her record, or Robie’s for that matter, that would suggest either of them have turned traitor.”

“Well the same holds true for Jim Gelder and Doug Jacobs,” interjected Tucker.

“Duly noted,” said the president. “But we’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. For the time being, we have to put every resource we have into solving this thing. And that includes finding Robie and Reel, as quickly as possible. If they are working for us somehow, they could be invaluable in clearing up this matter.”

“And if they’re working against us?” asked Tucker.

“Then their fate is completely predictable.” The president looked around. “Any disagreements there?”

Every other man in the room shook his head.

The president rose. “I’ll be leaving for Ireland shortly. But keep me informed. Highest priority. No major decisions without briefing me. Clear?”

The others nodded.

The men all stood as the president disappeared through a door held open for him by a Secret Service agent.

When the door closed behind him, Whitcomb sat. So did the others.

“So where do we really stand on all this, Gus?” asked Tucker.

“I thought the president was perfectly clear on it, Evan,” said Whitcomb in mild surprise.

“With the things he said, yes. I mean the things that were left unsaid.”

“I think you can deduce what they are. But I’ll give you a hint. If this isn’t resolved satisfactorily then there will be ultimate accountability.”

He looked at Tucker, then at Colwell, and finally at Blue Man. “Ultimate accountability,” he repeated.

“How much time do we have?” asked Colwell.

Whitcomb rose, signaling an end to the meeting. “Apparently almost none at all.”