Pepper sat quietly and mulled over Wesley’s three points. It didn’t take him long to come to the conclusion that Wesley was right. He wanted to say, well where do we go from here, but he was the guy in charge and was supposed to have all those answers.
“So where do we go from here?” Paul Moore asked.
Everyone looked at one another.
Kara kept her mouth shut. So far, even though everything they had been hashing out was remarkable, none of it was in her wheelhouse. She had finite responsibilities and upper-level policy making wasn’t one of them. She was starting to wonder why she had even been invited to the meeting.
“I have some ideas,” Pepper told them. He had calmed down considerably. His voice was back to a normal volume.
“During the meeting I had with the President, two interesting items came to my attention. One of them is a fact about Hail. I would like you all to study Hail’s file after this meeting. That fact was that Hail’s wife and two young twin daughters were killed in The Five.”
No one in the room looked upset by this information except for Kara.
The fact hit her like physical blow to her solar plexus. She found it difficult to breath for a moment. A zap of anxiety flooded her system and she felt a flash of sweat break out across her forehead.
Pepper wasn’t looking at anyone but Kara. He noticed that his words had impacted her. He knew they would.
He continued.
“The other point of interest is that the President is going to set up a meeting with Hail so she can personally hand him his twenty-five-million-dollar check. The President asked if representatives from the CIA, NIA, military, and that new little worm Rodgers from the FBI could wait in the oval office while she and Hail had lunch. If Hail wants anything or needs anything in order to continue his valuable work, then the POTUS wants us to help him out. The President doesn’t feel like this is a one-time deal. She thinks Hail is going to do more of this vigilante shit and he might ask for some assistance.”
Pepper glanced at everyone and then his eyes came back to rest on Kara.
Kara looked at him indifferently. She was sure that the other shoe was getting ready to drop and sensed it would affect her in some way. After all, why else was she there?
“I would like you to be at that meeting, Kara. I want you to accompany me while we wait in the oval office with the others.”
“Why?” she asked, but she could have guessed the reason. She knew the reason. She wished she could withdraw the question.
“Why?” Pepper responded rhetorically. “Well, let’s run down a few of the facts. Hail’s wife was killed over two years ago. He has been on his ship for over two years. He has possibly never taken a step onto dry land in all that time. My guess is he’s been pining over his wife and has probably not thought much about female companionship during that time.”
Pepper looked at Kara. Kara looked down at the table. She knew her value to the agency, but she resented it being spelled out so directly in front of all the other Directors. She was a damn good agent and it wasn’t all about her looks. But like any sensitive organic surface that has been continually irritated, Kara had built up callouses over what people thought of her. She really didn’t care what prissy Karen Wesley thought of her. Wesley probably demanded a tissue and an aspirin each time she had sex, if she ever had sex. As for the two men that were currently staring at her. Hell, if she had a dime for every man that lusted after her or resented her because they couldn’t have her, she would own her own island.
Pepper said in an emphatic manner, “My plan is to get you onto Hail’s ship.”
No shit, Kara thought.
She said nothing.
“Can you think of anyone more qualified than yourself to do this assignment?”
Unfortunately, Kara could not. She stayed silent.
“I didn’t think so,” Pepper said.
Kara said nothing.
“The only way we are going to find out about Hail’s capabilities is to get someone on the inside. If we can’t pull that off, then we’re just spinning our wheels.”
Another long silence.
“Do you understand, Kara?” Pepper asked her directly, expecting a response.
“I understand, Sir,” Kara said in a voice so lenient that if someone didn’t know her they might have thought she was always soft-spoken.
“Good,” Pepper said, standing up and collecting his papers off the table. “Right now, I would like all of you to study Hail’s file. Let’s spend about four hours on it and then meet back here to further discuss strategy.”
Kara was still staring at the shiny, brown, endlessly long table top. She saw the faces of all the Directors looking back at her in the reflection. She shifted her eyes and looked at the floor.
“That’s all,” Pepper said.
Bilikpapan Bay, Indonesian ― on the cargo ship Hail Nucleus
There was an email waiting for Marshall Hail when he got back to his stateroom.
To: MarshallHail@HailInsdustires.com
Hi Marshall, I hope you’ve been doing well. It came as somewhat of a shock when you took responsibility for the assassination of Kim Yong Chang. Needless to say, it really shook up some people here in Washington, but in my short tenure as Direction of the FBI, I’ve learned that nearly anything shakes people up down here. I spoke with the President about this issue and she said she will hand you the check personally. All you have to do is come to Washington and pick it up. She would like to have lunch with you in the Rose Garden and will work her schedule around yours. Just let me know the date and I will arrange the lunch with the POTUS. Unrelated, I wouldn’t have missed the funeral. You know that. We have a lot of history between us. I miss our Dads too. I miss seeing you as well and hopefully we can get caught up when you’re in DC. See you soon.
Your bud,
Trev
Hail checked the time on the corner of his computer. Fuel consumption, air speed, time zones and other travel related data sifted through his mind.
He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a six-digit number.
The phone was answered on the first ring.
“Yes, Sir,” the male voice said.
“Hi Daniel. Is the Gulfstream fueled and ready to fly?”
There was a pause on the line. Something on the other end was being checked and verified.
“It can be, Marshall. How soon do you want wheels up?”
“Well, help me do some math so I know if I can make a lunch date tomorrow in Washington, DC.”
There was a chuckle on the line, as if to say, Oh, another one of those trips.
“It would be tight,” the pilot said. “Let’s see. The Gulfstream G650 flies at almost Mach 1. With a seven-thousand-mile range, we would have to refuel somewhere.”
“How about the Dakhla Airport in the Western Sahara of Morocco,” Hail suggested. “If I remember correctly, it’s about six thousand miles from Bilikpapan as the crow flies.”
There was a pause as Daniel confirmed that information.
“That’s do-able. Let’s see, Washington is about 10,345 miles, so in the time it would take you to get off the ship and over to the Sultan Aji Muhammad Sulaiman Sepinggan International Airport here in Bilikpapan…” and the pilot started laughing. “What a ridiculously long name for an airport,” he said and then composed himself. “Anyway, you get here quick and I think we can put you on the ground at…” another pause in the conversation and then Daniel asked, “Where do you want to land?”