There was a long silence and a soft moan as the wind gathered strength. Bravo looked east, as if gazing across the world to the sands of the Middle East.
“That’s where it began.”
“No, Bravo, it began before that, in the plans we made after 9/11, in the choices we made and the actions we took. It began with contracts to Boeing, flights out of North Carolina. It began when we crossed lines.”
“Don’t lecture me, Nexus. I don’t hold your insecurities. I’d do it again in a moment.”
Nexus laughed, shaking his head. “It was always helpful to have your unwavering presence during those years, Bravo. But I expected nothing less from the man that practically ran Guantanamo for half a decade.”
The large man turned to face his companion, a hard expression on his face. “What this new information means is that we have a route to identifying this wraith. There can only be a limited number of candidates who would match the missions and personnel. The teams are identified by the body trail. The black site by its destruction.”
“Yes, yes,” Nexus said, waving away the stern stare. “The research is underway.”
“What about our meddlers? The woman?”
“She and the priest were at the hospital. Presumably, they got a look at the records.”
Bravo exhaled. “This should have been prevented!”
“Too many assets were already involved! Those present were concentrating on finding the wraith.” Nexus drew himself up to his full height. He seemed to regain his authority. “There is little reason to suspect that either Houston or the priest could understand the significance of the records.”
“That is not the only thing that worries me,” said the large man, yielding no ground. “Now they will know others are also looking.”
“Perhaps they already knew, Bravo. The Houston woman is considered a good agent.”
Bravo stared briefly at the taller man and then looked away. “Yes, perhaps.”
“But I believe their usefulness is now outweighed by the dangers to us that they pose.”
“I agree.”
“We’ll encourage them to abandon this effort.”
“And if they do not take to encouragement?”
Nexus sighed. He was tiring of this verbal chess game. He pulled out the small device, turned his back on Bravo, and walked to the farmhouse.
Let him figure it out.
23
The pounding on the door startled them both.
Houston checked the spy hole and opened the door quickly, and a heavyset man stumbled into the room panting. “Jesus, Fred, what the hell happened? You look like shit.”
Lopez had to agree with Houston. Fred Simon looked like he had been through a forced march. In his mid-sixties, overweight, and sporting an ill-fitting and disheveled suit, his full shock of gray hair appeared violently windswept, as did his loosened tie.
“Fred, what’s going on?” Houston asked, her initial shock transitioning to an analytical concern.
“Quiet, Sara! Close the door!” Simon whispered harshly. He sprang to the window and looked outside for several seconds, his eyes scanning the parking lot outside their room. Lopez was suddenly aware that a gun was in his right hand, and he glanced nervously over to Houston who was bolting the door, never taking her eyes off Simon. Finally, satisfied, the CIA man placed his gun inside his suit and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.
“I think I’ve lost them.”
Houston brought him a bottle of water, which he accepted thankfully. “You’re too old to be playing cops and robbers, Fred.”
“Tell me about it.” He sat down on a chair across the room from the desk and exhaled deeply. “What the hell have you gotten me into, Sara?”
Houston shook her head. “I don’t know, Fred. You got my messages and the encrypted emails. You know as much as I do now. Can you tell us what happened?”
Simon nodded and glanced at Lopez. “I guess you’d be the priest. Forgive me, Father, if I sin and don’t properly introduce myself. Jesus, I’ve had a hell of a day.”
Lopez nodded. “I understand. Things seem to be getting crazier by the day.”
Simon turned back to Houston. “Well, it happened quickly. The timing was unsettling. I had just pushed for access to some of the files from Sara’s division. I’m not a director anymore, but I’ve got residual clout and a lot of favors owed. Despite all that, I was stonewalled and punted from office to office.”
“That’s incredible,” blurted Houston.
“Yeah, real slap in the face. No way the CTC was going to bend any rules, even for me. I don’t know what your boys were involved with, but they don’t want those details out. So, just as I was getting a handle on my new position in the food chain, things got real interesting. About five minutes after pulling out of the CIA parking lot for home, there’s a gray Honda Civic in my rearview. One of the most common cars on the road. Asphalt-gray Civic — hard to notice in general, and if I weren’t already primed from the shock earlier, maybe I wouldn’t have. But I did. It was mirroring my moves, speed, turns. Subtle at first, then as I did stupider things, the driver was forced to be more obvious.”
“A tail?” asked Lopez.
“Yes,” answered the CIA agent. “But these guys weren’t fooling around. They realized I was on to them, and suddenly the car accelerated and was drawing up on my side of the car.”
“Oh, my God,” whispered Houston.
Lopez was confused. Simon noticed and explained.
“Might be paranoia, Father, but there are only two reasons to tail someone and then pull up violently along the driver’s side — to positively ID the driver and, upon positive ID, to execute an action related to that person.”
“Execute?” Lopez sat down.
“Not necessarily a hit, Francisco,” said Houston. “Sometimes, as with the paparazzi, to get photographs.”
“But, as you can see, I’m not paparazzi material,” said Simon. “They weren’t looking for photographs.”
There was a brief silence. Simon gulped down more of the water. He continued.
“So, there I was on the G.W. Parkway doing near one hundred, dodging cars and looking for an exit. That crazy Civic was on my ass the whole time, and it’s damn lucky we didn’t get ourselves or someone else killed in that madness. I honestly don’t remember how I got here. Once off the highway, it was fifty different roads, wild turns, lights run, and the suspension on my Taurus banged to hell and back. They were better drivers. I could see that. But I had a lifetime of driving through Virginia on my side. Thank God. They didn’t know the roads. If they had, well, I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”
“But this is insane!” exclaimed Lopez, standing up. “We aren’t in a movie! We’re less than an hour from the White House! Shadowy men don’t chase a high-ranking CIA official through suburban Virginia because he asked some questions about a group at another division!”
“They didn’t use to.” Simon coughed a tired laugh. “Could’ve handled them maybe in my younger days.”
“This doesn’t make sense!” Lopez looked over to Houston for some sort of clarification. She didn’t have any.
“Did you get a look at the occupants?” she asked.
Simon shook his head. “Too busy practicing for the Indy 500.”
“I think Francisco is right, Fred. You get a hit put on you for asking questions? No way. CIA’s done stupid stuff, but this doesn’t add up.”
“Maybe it’s not CIA.” Simon’s words hung in the air.