He was a member of the team, call sign Sierra Six. Nothing more.
Then came details of the events that led to what the file described as the kill/capture order on Gentry.
Ruth read it twice, the first time with rapt fascination, the second time with growing skepticism.
According to the report, Gentry had been home in his apartment in Virginia Beach when the rest of his field team came over for a visit. And then, with apparently no warning, Gentry murdered the entire team.
All four men.
There was no explanation in the documentation as to why he had done this, other than a report from an agency psychologist suggesting that post-traumatic stress disorder brought on by years in the field had caused him to snap. That he had somehow misinterpreted his teammates and colleagues as a threat.
To Ettinger the explanation seemed suspiciously convenient. And there was no reason whatsoever for why all the rest of his team happened to be in his apartment. He’d invited them over to watch a football game, maybe? She looked at the after-action report. The gunfight took place in predawn hours. A late-night party that turned into a tier-one shootout?
Sure, she said to herself, that happens.
Ruth Ettinger’s bullshit detector spiked into the red.
That the fight did take place was not in question. There were photographs of several bodies. Blood on the walls. A smashed window. Shell casings strewn across the floor. But Ruth was having a difficult time buying the official version of events.
The last portion of the accordion file dossier on Gentry was perhaps the most complete and most interesting to her. It detailed Townsend Government Services’ own hunt for the Gray Man. This hunt, if the documentation was to be believed, had led them from Mexico to Europe, and teams of assets were deployed even now in northern Europe.
As soon as she finished perusing the last document, she looked at her watch and realized three hours had passed. She had done her best to commit pertinent information to memory and to form a mental list of questions to have ready for her scheduled four P.M. meeting with Leland Babbitt, director of this odd enterprise.
Babbitt entered the conference room right on time, with Jeff Parks behind him. The director of Townsend Government Services was a big man with a thick neck and a wide smile on his face. As he shook her hand he said, “I was told to prepare myself.”
“For what, sir?”
“To keep my professional demeanor in the presence of such a striking woman.”
Ruth faked a little smile and worked to keep her eyes where they were, not rolling into the back of her head.
Babbitt sat down and said, “Denny has asked us to provide any assistance we can. I am happy to have help from the legendary Mossad on this difficult project.”
She doubted his sincerity but thanked him for his kind words.
He added, “I am sure you must have questions for me after looking over the dossier.”
“I do. These files are heavily redacted.”
He nodded somberly. “Yes, I know.”
“I was told I could see the internal documents. All of them.”
“The redactions are on the source docs.”
She wanted to say Bullshit, but instead she said, “I see. You are saying Gentry was run off book.”
“In the early part of his career he was part of a program that, for purposes of security, was not completely committed to paper.”
Ettinger cocked her head and held it there, urging Babbitt to provide her more information. But he did not bite.
“So there is nothing else about Courtland Gentry that you can provide me?”
“It’s all right in front of you. He was a solid operative for several years, working alone. After 9/11, CIA put together strike teams in the Special Activities Division. His name came up as a suitable candidate, and he joined a task force.”
Ruth picked up a page of the file and looked at it. While she scanned it again she said, “Where he was involved in targeted killings and extraordinary renditions.”
“Exactly.”
She lifted another series of documents and thumbed through them quickly, finally finding the ones she was looking for. “Looking over his freelance operations since his departure from CIA, this just doesn’t add up.” She held up the pages. “I see motive in these hits. His motive was justice. But I don’t see the motive in assassinating Prime Minister Kalb.”
Parks said, “According to what you told Denny, the Iranians are offering twenty-five million dollars. Money is motive, Ms. Ettinger.”
She shook her head and spoke softly, almost to herself. “Not really, no. Not with Gentry.” She changed gears quickly. “When and where was your most recent sighting of Gentry?”
“Tallinn, Estonia. Tuesday morning. An arrest team had him cornered there, and Gentry wiped them out.”
“Killed them?”
“Most of them, yes.”
“A Townsend arrest team?”
“Yes.”
Ruth had read a cable about the shootout in Estonia, but Mossad had not connected it to the Gray Man. She made a mental note to dig deeper into the details with Tel Aviv.
“Your sanction includes lethal means.”
“Of course. He is a dangerous man.”
“I understand that. Israel has its own file on the Gray Man, of course. We have been able to attribute several high-profile extrajudicial killings around the world to him over the past four or five years, and although there is nothing in your file here about it, my organization feels confident he single-handedly pulled off the Kiev operation a few years ago. If that was, in fact, the Gray Man, he is every bit as dangerous as his reputation.”
Babbitt put a hand up. “He is the best out there. But he did not do Kiev. It’s disappointing to me that an organization as talented as the Mossad is helping to spread that urban legend.”
“How can you be so sure it’s not true?”
“Court works alone. What happened at the airport in Kiev could not have been perpetrated by one man, despite his skill.”
Ruth leaned forward into the table. “Tell me why.”
“Do you know what a ‘command fire’ event is, Ms. Ettinger?”
She shook her head slowly. “I confess I do not.”
“It’s a tactical term, used by snipers, mostly. It is the simultaneous fire of multiple weapons against multiple targets to gain a tactical advantage.”
“I see.”
“That night in Kiev, four targets in two different locations were shot at the beginning of the engagement, all at the same exact instant. Two of the four targets were moving. Two of the targets were killed with the same bullet. All four men were shot through the head. There is no way in hell any one sniper does that. There were three snipers, which means three spotters.” He held up six fingers. “And then, after this, is when the close quarters engagement took place, so there were probably another six or eight guys. Langley figures there were twelve to fourteen operators involved in Kiev… not one.”
Ruth made a mental note to pass this information to Mossad so they could adjust their Gentry file accordingly, and then she moved on. “One more question.”
“Shoot.”
“Is Courtland Gentry a villain, or is he a hero?”
Parks laughed aloud.
Babbitt said, “Why do you ask that?”
“Quite frankly, he’s done some great work. Everyone he’s targeted has been human debris who, to be honest, this world is better off without.”
“That’s your opinion,” Babbitt said.
“And even in your heavily redacted — one might even say ‘doctored’—file on him, I see so many vague references to operations, ops in which the CIA obviously was satisfied with the result. And then, one day, out of the blue, he throws a pizza party at his apartment and kills all his coworkers.”