Court sighed. So much for accuracy in the news. There were two complete falsehoods in that one sentence, since he wasn’t the killer and he’d held no hostages.
Then came the images of the scene on the Capital Beltway, and this time the anchor relayed a passably accurate version of the events there, including the jackknifed semi and the armed carjacking.
But Court found it extremely odd the report made no mention of D.C. Metro police encountering the suspect at that scene as well. Hell, he’d been shot, so they must have suspected him of being the man involved in Babbitt’s murder.
This piece ended and a new story began, so Court flipped channels to CNN. After a few minutes he was surprised to see that they also ran a brief piece about the brazen assassination of a Maryland businessman and the audacious and violent escape of the assassin.
Court was national news.
He groaned aloud in anger and turned off the TV.
He stood and grabbed a beer from his little refrigerator. In the bathroom, he drank from the can while he changed the black and sticky dressing over his gunshot wound, tears of pain welling in his eyes.
Matthew Hanley had spent a large part of this Tuesday off-site, meeting with SAD Air Branch staff at Andrews to discuss the registering of some new aircraft with shell corporations so they could be used in an upcoming operation in Central America. Through a front company the CIA had recently purchased four very used and totally untraceable de Havilland DHC Twin Otters from an Indonesian air transport service that had gone bankrupt and then shipped the planes to the States for refitting and refurbishment. Once Hanley had the new paperwork complete, the aircraft would go to work in Central and South America, moving supplies and men to denied areas for the Special Activities Division.
They would be completely untraceable to CIA, but for now they sat at Andrews in a sealed hangar, and Hanley wanted to inspect them personally.
He didn’t return to his sixth-floor office at Langley until three thirty, and when he did he found Suzanne Brewer waiting on a sofa in an outer office, working quietly on an iPad while Hanley’s secretary talked on her phone behind her desk.
Hanley feigned a pleasant look upon seeing Brewer, but he had a ton of work to do and was in no mood to talk to Denny Carmichael’s newest foot soldier.
She stood with a charming smile. “Hi, Matt. Suzanne Brewer. It’s been a while.”
“Of course, Suzanne. How are you?”
“I’m good. I’ll be a lot better if you can give me ten minutes of your time.”
Hanley replied, “Can you make it five?”
“Five is great. Thanks so much.”
The two of them walked together into his office.
Hanley did not know Brewer well, but one couldn’t be a member of senior staff here without hearing her name on a regular basis. Her career had been skyrocketing straight up since she’d joined the Agency, just after getting her master’s at Villanova in International Studies. Hanley had seen her name tied to all sorts of successful programs, and she’d never spent more than two years at the same desk, instead working her way steadily up the ladder.
Hanley was still several rungs above her, but he felt sure he would top out long before Suzanne Brewer, who seemed to be just getting started. He could imagine her running the whole damn Agency someday, so he told himself he should go out of his way to curry favor with her on her way up, so hopefully she’d remember his actions later on when she had the power to make his life either a little more pleasant or a lot more difficult.
Hanley said, “So, I hear you are working on the Violator operation.”
“That’s correct. I was put in the Working Group when Violator showed up in D.C. I guess you could say this is my geography, considering I am in charge of domestic asset protection. So now I’m trying to guess Violator’s next move and, since I’m new to all this, I’m having some difficulty.”
“He’s a hard target, no question about that.”
“You heard about Babbitt, didn’t you?”
“Saw it on the news. You’re thinking that was Gentry?”
“Carmichael is certain of it.”
Hanley shrugged.
Brewer said, “Townsend Government Services had contractors hunting Gentry in Belgium last month. He killed several of them, as a matter of fact. We think it likely Gentry learned Babbitt’s name somewhere during the course of that operation, and that’s why he targeted Babbitt here in the States as soon as he arrived. He thinks it will take some of the heat off of him so he can pursue whatever his objective is.”
“That’s a plausible theory, I guess,” said Hanley, but there was no conviction in his voice.
She recognized his uncertainty, and added, “I thought the Babbitt killing looked like it had been carried out by more than one man, but Carmichael doesn’t buy that. I also spoke with Hightower about this, and he backed Carmichael up. He said Gentry often operates in a manner to obfuscate the fact he is working alone.”
Hanley’s eyes went wide and he took hold of the edge of his desk with both hands. “You spoke with… who?”
“Zack Hightower.”
Hanley put his big forearms on his desk now, then he leaned over them, nearly halving the distance between himself and Brewer. “What the hell are you telling me?”
Brewer was confused, and she did not hide it. “I’m sorry. I must have something wrong. I was told Zack Hightower worked for you on the Goon Squad… sorry, the Golf Sierra Task Force.”
Hanley continued looming over her. “That is correct.”
“Then… what is it you don’t understand?”
“I don’t understand how it is you spoke with him recently.”
“Why not?”
Hanley sat back in his chair now. Gave a huge shrug to his big shoulders. “Because I went to the man’s funeral five years ago.”
Brewer herself sat back in her chair in surprise. “Well, I can assure you he is very much alive. He is no longer with the Agency officially but has come in to help me understand the tactics of our target.”
Matt Hanley took out a handkerchief and wiped his ruddy face. “Okay. Zack’s back from the dead to help you find the guy who killed him. Just another day in the office around here. I’m with you.”
She said, “This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve run security at facilities where I couldn’t know what was going on inside. I’ve protected assets and employees from threats that were unclear to me. But the capabilities of this threat and the importance of the people I’m being asked to protect in this case have me thinking I need to know more about what is going on here. I thought perhaps you might have some other advice for me since you worked with Gentry for several years.”
Hanley said, “Suzanne, we don’t know each other very well, but I hope you will take this recommendation as it’s intended, just a friendly suggestion.”
“Of course.” She picked up the stylus for her iPad and touched it to the screen, ready to take notes.
“Your job is to fortify the gates of this institution. In my opinion, based on twenty-five years of experience around here, the greatest dangers to the institution are already inside the gates.”
She did not reply.
He said, “Court Gentry is Denny’s war. He’s brought you in to help him fight it, but there is no future in it for you. Sure, maybe you’ll kill your target, and that might be a little feather in your cap, but this isn’t true Agency business, and someday Denny is going to crash and burn for all his extracurricular activities.” Hanley spoke softly. “You are a winner, Suzanne. I see it. Don’t follow Denny Carmichael down into the dirt.”