“I’m Special Agent-in-Charge of the Intel 1 Division at CTD. This is Agent Rebecca Cohen, also of Intel 1.” He nodded toward the woman.
“Counterterrorism? What brings you here? These terrorists now?”
“Unclear,” said Savas. “But I was in DC and was called urgently to this address on actionable intelligence — the threat to the life of the former VPOTUS.” He glanced up at the ruin around him. “It seems that call was accurate.”
“He’s dead,” said the officer, his expression a scowl. “Murdered along with an army of Secret Service agents by these killers.”
Lopez couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s a lie! We came here to save the vice president! It was the wraith! A killer, a victim of the CIA renditions program! You have to call— “
Savas backhanded Lopez across the face. “You will keep your mouth shut, you vermin! We’ve got a pretty little limo waiting for you two, and we’re going to put you in it and drive you to a place you don’t want to go.” The agent’s eyes were furious.
The state policemen looked over shocked, and with some awe and admiration. Savas motioned to the armored SWAT team, and they approached, pointing weapons at Lopez and Houston.
Lopez just stared at the FBI man. It was insane. After everything, after all the lies and deaths, all their efforts to find the truth, that they would also be tarnished with this last murder! The demonization of their persons was complete. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse at God for the injustice of it all. The words from the Book of Job came unbidden to his mind, even as he tried to push them away: “Make me know my transgression and my sin. Why dost thou hide thy face, and count me as thy enemy?”
“We have orders from on high, gentlemen,” said Agent Savas loudly. “By federal authority these fugitives are to be placed into our custody, under our jurisdiction. We have intelligence that they are not working alone, and there may be efforts to actualize their escape as early as tonight. We need to move them immediately to the most secure federal lockdown we can find.”
Several officers around them murmured. Savas dismissed them with a wave.
“This is a federal matter, involving the assassination of a former vice president of the United States. Maybe you don’t realize who you are dealing with! We don’t want a repeat of New York, where these two and accomplices blew up the entire local police station in their escape.”
Officer Siggia nodded, his face relieved. “That’s for damn sure, and I’ll be sleeping easier knowing these two aren’t in my locker. They’re yours, agents. Get them the hell out of my sight. You men,” he said, rounding up his troops and turning his back on the agents, “Let’s get this cordoned off. More of these G-men and God knows who else are going to descend on us. Let’s have it ready.”
Savas motioned and the SWAT team rushed forward. Lopez felt himself grabbed tightly, additional constraints placed on his arms and set around his legs. He was glad to see that they did not do so with Houston but instead placed her on a stretcher carried by two agents. At least these FBI agents had some brains. It was obvious to anyone that she wasn’t escaping anywhere.
He was pushed forward and into the back of the truck, and then strapped into a harness that prevented any movement. To his amazement, there was an emergency response medic with a small station set up in the back. They quickly moved Houston to a gurney locked down to the van floor, and the medic began examining her. Before he could say anything, two large SWAT officers sat across from him, their faces concealed behind black masks and helmets. Their weapons were pointed casually toward him.
The front door opened, and Agent Savas stepped in himself. Lopez assumed the woman was outside with the state police. He watched Savas start the engine, back the van up carefully, and then accelerate down the driveway and onto the road.
Lopez didn’t know where they were headed. He assumed the worst. Maybe they would be rendered somewhere, tortured. Perhaps simply locked away without trial or chance of trial, labeled “enemy combatants” and disappeared to Guantanamo or some similar location. America was changing. Rights were being taken away. They could simply disappear some, without justification, in secret, for as long as they wanted.
And there was nothing that anyone could do about it.
64
“She’s lost a lot of blood,” said the medic, who hooked up a bag for transfusion. The truck bounced roughly along the road; Lopez marveled that the medic could do his job. “It’s good we were warned. I have her type and allergies. We got her just in time.”
Warned? Who could have told them that she was injured?
“Father Lopez,” said Savas from the front. “In a minute, I will instruct my men to release your constraints. I don’t want you doing anything stupid. At the least, think about Agent Houston and her need for assistance. It might also help to hear that we were sent by Fred Simon of the CIA. We know the story, the real story. We’re here to help.”
Lopez felt dizzy. From Simon? FBI agents? What the hell was going on?
“Fred’s a colleague of mine at Langley,” Savas continued, guessing Lopez’s thoughts. “We’ve worked together for years, and I know him personally. He’s a good man. A trusted friend. Only because of that did I believe him.”
“Then you can clear us?” asked Lopez, his hope desperate.
“Little hope of that, Father.”
“It’s not Father anymore, Agent Savas.”
Savas sighed. “I’m here with the unapproved authorization of Agent Simon. When this van is found destroyed, and I am unconscious, and these agents missing, he will take the heat for your escape, operating outside of protocol.”
Lopez was stunned. “Our escape?” He glanced outside the window. They were in the middle of nowhere, fields rushing past in the golden light of sunrise. Where will we escape to?
“We are doing this because the forces that set this nightmare in motion knew their business, Father.”
“Please,” interrupted Lopez, the title distracting him. “Not anymore. Not Father. I am defrocked. Excommunicated.”
Savas was silent a moment. “I am sorry for that. I really am. Your lives will never be the same after what they have done. Now, as I understand it, the leaders are all dead, murdered by this Pakistani-American nutcase. This wraith.”
“We saw three of them die. We also saw the bodies of several agents, including my brother.”
“But there are far too many still active at the CIA who will not allow the truth to come out. Jobs would be lost, programs endangered, the careers of the powerful jeopardized. The frame job on you two, completed tonight, would take a national investigation to uncover and undo. They won’t allow it. Congress won’t allow it. The Executive Branch won’t allow it. Too much dirt on too many people. This will be buried, and you buried with it. You will be the sacrifice.”
“Because of the crimes of a few that they don’t want known.”
“Yes. You are tarnished everywhere, from the Catholic Church to the murders of thirty to forty agents and police officers. You are now the assassins who murdered the former vice president. If you want to fight this, you have that option, but you will lose. And lose badly.”
“What other option is there?” asked Lopez, completely demoralized.
“Disappear,” said Savas.
“Disappear? How? Where?”
“Simon is arranging it. He’s preparing a back door for you. We will fake your escape tonight. The troops here are close associates and loyal to me — we’ve been through a lot together. They will keep this in confidence. Simon has set aside the CIA equivalent of a witness protection program for you. Only he will know, no one else at the CIA or FBI. You will be given new identities, a bank account that will let you retire for the rest of your lives, and a secret location. Not your old lives. You’ll never get those back. But you’ll get a chance to start new lives. A blank canvas.”