Game Over (16 page)

“I'm aware of your relationship with Kathryn Lucas. Once the women are cut loose, it isn't going to be the picnic everyone thinks it is going to be. The moment the media picks up the scent of your relationship, you're dead meat. That goes for Jack Emery, too. Someone is going to put two and two together and come up with four. I'm looking to retire, and I want to have you step in. I don't expect you to give me your answer over this lunch, but I do want an answer by the end of the day. That means six o'clock. You'll have to have your resignation ready to go if you accept my offer. When this lunch is over, I'm heading to Emery's office to present an offer to him. Say something, kid.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“Did I make sense? Did you understand what I said? More to the point, do you see the pitfalls that await you if you stay at the Bureau?”

“Yes to all three questions. Why me? Why Emery? How…how certain are you that the president is going to pardon the girls?”

“You're good. I've followed your career. Elias Cummings, your predecessor, and I were great friends. Still are. He said I couldn't do better than you. Emery for the same reason. Plus you're all tied to the vigilantes. As to how certain I am that the president is going to pardon the vigilantes…I saw the pardons with my own eyes. Forewarned is forearmed.”

Bert's head was reeling. Jellicoe made sense. It all sounded right. He wished he knew what Jack was going to say. He wanted to call Kathryn so bad, he had to clench his fists so he wouldn't pull his cell phone out of his pocket. “Where would I be based?”

Hank finished his beer, held out the bottle. A fresh bottle was placed in his hand. Bert had yet to sample his tonic water.

“Wherever you want to be based. The one place you don't want to be is here in the District.”

Bert's mouth was so dry, he couldn't swallow. He finally took a slug of the tonic water. “Salary?”

“I know you know everything there is to know about my company. Tell me what you think you're worth.”

Bert squared his shoulders. “Five hundred thousand. Stock options. Unlimited expense account. Not to be abused. Thirty days' sick leave, six weeks' vacation. Moving fees.”

“Agreed.”

“Shit! I sold myself short, didn't I?”

“Yeah, kid, you did, but to show you my heart's in the right place, I'm not going to hold that against you. I was prepared to offer a cool million a year. It's yours. You also get to use our chalet in Vail. We have a rather nice estate in Maui, which is yours to use anytime you can get away. We issue you a company car, and we pay all tax and insurance. And after a complete physical and drug test, we insure you for ten million dollars. You need to know there is going to be some extensive travel involved, but you and Emery, if he comes on board, can divvy that up to make it work for you both. And one last thing. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, can know about this. If Jack comes on board, then you and he can talk about it to your heart's content. Are you with me on this?”

Bert nodded once. He felt so light-headed, he thought he was going to pass out. He knew he should be saying something, but he didn't know what to say.

Huge platters, the kind wives served Thanksgiving turkeys on, arrived. Hank laughed at the expression on Bert's face. “Think of this as a one-of-a-kind meal, just like the one-of-a-kind job I just offered.”

Bert picked up the steak knife, which was as big as a butcher knife, and sliced into the steak in front of him. He sampled the succulent Kobe beef, rolled his eyes, then smiled. “I don't have to wait till six o'clock. I accept your offer, Hank.” He laid down his fork. His right hand shot forward. Hank grasped it, and they shook heartily.

“You made the right decision, kid. Welcome to Global Securities.”

H
ank Jellicoe kept one eye on his SUV, parked smack in front of the courthouse, and the other eye on the door from which he knew Jack Emery would emerge. He pulled the hood of his Windbreaker a little more snugly around his head to avoid getting wetter than he already was. If it wasn't snowing, it was raining. Damn weatherman never got it right. Just that morning he'd predicted milder than normal temperatures, with no mention of rain.

Jellicoe watched as yet another beat cop stopped at the SUV, looked at the impressive decal on the windshield. He looked around to see if he could pick out the owner as people rushed by. He shrugged and moved off. Jellicoe grunted something that could have been obscene and turned back to watching the door.

Jack Emery finally emerged from the courthouse ten minutes later and after still another police inspection of the SUV.

Jellicoe stepped forward and said, “Mr. Emery, Hank Jellicoe. I wonder if I might have a word with you. My vehicle is there at the curb. We can sit inside to get out of this pissy rain.”

Jack blinked. He'd seen pictures of the man standing in front of him, heard about him via the girls and Charles. He nodded, followed Jellicoe to the SUV, and climbed inside. “You mind telling me what this is all about?”

“That's why I'm here. How about we head to the nearest watering hole, grab a beer or some hot coffee, and I'll tell you all about it? You have to be anywhere in particular? I can drop you off.”

“Just home, for another fun evening of watching television by my lonesome.” Then he remembered that Harry, Bert, Ted, and Espinosa were supposed to come over to watch a game on TV. Or was it poker night? He couldn't remember. But that wasn't until later. “Unless you want to give me a lift home. I was running late this morning, so I took a cab. I have both coffee and beer. I live—”

“I know where you live. Georgetown it is.”

They drove in silence, Jack marveling at the man's driving expertise. Finally, when he couldn't stand the silence any longer, he said, “Are you just a man of few words, or are you contemplating something sinister here? What the hell is going on?”

“I don't talk a lot unless the person I'm talking to is stupid. You don't look stupid to me, Mr. Emery. Mind if I call you Jack?”

“Hell, no. Call me whatever you want. I'd just like to know why I'm here in this spiffy set of wheels, which sort of, kind of reminds me of those Chevy Suburbans the president tools around in.”

Jellicoe made a sound that could have been laughter. “Actually, this set of wheels has things in it those Suburbans don't. And, to answer the second part of your question, life is sinister. It's how you deal with it that takes the bad out of good.”

“Is that supposed to be profound?”

“Uh-huh.”

They drove for another ten minutes of silence before Jellicoe parked directly in front of Jack and Nikki's house. “Out,” was all he said.

“Hey, you can't park here. They'll tow you away in five minutes,” Jack said.

“Yeah, I can park here. No one is going to tow me away. I can leave this baby here for ten days, and the guy parked across from me will be stuck for those ten days. You sure do talk a lot, Emery.”

“Suit yourself, but when you leave my house, your wheels will be in the impound lot. This is Georgetown, Mr. Jellicoe. We don't do shit like that here.”

“You worry too much, Mr. Emery. Can we just get the hell in the house so I can dry out?”

Jack shrugged, marched up the four steps to the front door, which had been replaced since that memorable night when Harry had kicked it in, opened it, and turned off the alarm. He turned the heat up and started a fire. “Coffee, beer, or me?” he quipped.

“Coffee with a big slug of brandy. This is nice,” Jellicoe said, looking around.

“Yeah, it is, but it isn't mine. Belongs to Nikki Quinn. She's letting me stay here to keep it maintained. But I assume you already know that.”

“I do. Let's have our coffee here in front of the fire. I like cozy.”

“You could have fooled me,” Jack said as he measured out coffee. He opened one cabinet after the other until he found the brandy bottle. “You look like a half-and-half kind of guy to me?” It was a question.

Jellicoe nodded.

“You want me to throw your clothes in the dryer? There's a robe in the laundry room. Are your feet wet?”

“Sounds like your mother knew my mother. If your feet are cold and wet, you're gonna get sick. She had another little ditty,” Jellicoe called over his shoulder on the way to the laundry room. “Always wear your good underwear, in case you're in an accident.”

Jack guffawed as he watched the coffee drip into the pot. Suddenly he was liking this guy.

Settled in front of the fire, Jellicoe got right to the point. “I'm here to offer you a job.” He leaned forward and gave Jack the same spiel he'd given Bert, adding only the information about the deal he had made with Bert.

The only difference between Jack and Bert was that Jack's eyes didn't glaze over. He eyeballed Jellicoe and said, “How much?”

Jellicoe laughed. “What do you think you're worth? More than Navarro?”

“A million should do it. Same perks you're giving Bert, and he doesn't get top billing. We're equals, or it's no deal.”

“Done. You have to hand in your resignation by tomorrow morning at nine. Now, what should we talk about?”

Jack started to laugh and couldn't stop. He slid off his chair and rolled across the floor, choking and sputtering.

“What's so damn funny?” Jellicoe demanded.

“I'm just realizing how professional you look in that silly-looking orange and brown bathrobe. And I can see your wee-wee.”

“It's
your
robe, you dumb cluck.”

“Actually, no, it isn't my robe. It belongs to Harry Wong. He was staying with me a while back and forgot to take it with him. On him it looks good.” Jack rolled over, sat up, and hugged his knees. “Let's get serious here. Who else knows about this magnificent offer you just made to Bert and me?”

“Absolutely no one. The contracts will be ready in the morning, right after you tender your resignation. Why are you asking?”

“Because of the guys. We're a team, Jellicoe. We're all going to be facing the same problem in a few days, once the vigilantes receive their pardons. We can't stay here, that's for sure.”

Jellicoe pretended to think. He had predicted that this exact conversation would occur and was prepared. “Okay,” he said agreeably. “I can use all of you, but you have to go to boot camp.”

“Whoa. Whoa. No one said anything about boot camp.”

“I'm saying it now. I have rules and regs. I do not, let me repeat, I do not run a Mickey Mouse operation. You'll ace it. Not to worry. What time are the guys due?”

Jack looked at his watch. “Actually, they're ten minutes late. I thought you knew everything.”

“Almost everything.”

Jack leaned forward. “Swear to me on your mother that the Sisters are, honest to God, going to receive pardons. No bullshit, Jellicoe.”

“They are, honest to God, going to walk away from that stupid patriotic party a few days from now with their pardons in hand.”

Jack let out a sigh so loud, Jellicoe reared back. Then he smiled. He so loved happy endings. He hoped his own was going to be just as good.

The doorbell rang just as the dryer in the laundry room pinged. Jellicoe got up to get his dry clothing while Jack went to the door.

The guys had arrived.

“No poker tonight, boys, but I do have some entertainment scheduled. Settle in, and I'll bring us refreshments. But first, let me introduce our leading entertainer to those of you who do not already know him. Fellows, meet Henry Jellicoe, also known as Hank. Hank is the head and sole owner of Global Securities. Harry, Espinosa, Ted, meet Hank Jellicoe. He's going to entertain you while I gather up our refreshments. Bert, why don't you join me in the kitchen?”

“I'll be with you in a second, Jack. First I need to make a pit stop,” said Bert.

In the kitchen Jack leaned up against the back door and squeezed his eyes shut. Had he just done what he thought he had? Was Jellicoe the answer to all his prayers? Was he finally, after all these years, going to be able to get married to Nikki? A lone tear rolled down his cheek. He brushed at it with shaking fingers. He felt like he'd just stepped into a patch of four-leaf clovers.

Jack looked around the tidy kitchen. He loved Nikki's house, but without her in it, it was just a house. Where would they all end up? Jellicoe hadn't said, but then again, he hadn't asked. His mind raced. Who in the media would put it all together once they made a mass exodus from the District? How long would it take for those in authority to put two and two together?
Not long,
he thought. Maybe that was why he sensed such urgency in Jellicoe. He couldn't even begin to imagine the fallout that would engulf the White House when the pardons became public.

Maybe now was the time to start thinking about Hank Jellicoe as his guardian angel. Yeah, yeah, that sounded good.

Jack opened the refrigerator, hauled out his twelve-pack of Heineken, and set the bottles on a tray. Since Bert hadn't joined him yet, he put one bag of pretzels between his teeth and two bags of chips under his arms before he shouldered his way through the swinging door of the kitchen.

His buddies were staring into the flames. It looked like they were all in a trance. Hank Jellicoe was on his feet, doing stretches.

Jellicoe eyed the tray, then the guys, just as Bert walked into the room. “They're on board. Right now they're in a state of shock. It's safe to say, your team is ready to go. Listen, if you don't mind, I have to leave. I've got things to do and places to go.”

Jack was still holding the tray in his hands, still had the pretzel bag between his teeth and the chips under his arms.

“Here,” said Bert. “Let me help you with that.”

Jack was like a robot when he handed the tray and munchies to Bert and followed his new benefactor to the door. Jellicoe stuck out his hand, and Jack grabbed it. “I feel like I should say something, but I don't know the words. Thanks? It hardly seems enough. Just tell me why?”

“Thanks will do. Will it help you if I told you I am in love with the president of the United States, and this is what she wants for the people who put her into office?”

Jack tried to wrap his mind around the words Jellicoe had just uttered. “No.”

“Well, there you go. Guess you'll have to make up your own happy ending, then.” Jellicoe dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled card. “Crap, I forgot to mention something. Well, that's okay. You can tell the guys. You all need to be at this address at ten tomorrow morning. When you put your John Hancocks on the contracts, you'll get a signing bonus. A quarter mil each. That should give everyone sweet dreams tonight.” Jellicoe winked at Jack, punched him in the arm, and was gone without another word.

Jack watched as the head of Global Securities walked down the steps and out to his SUV, which was still in the same spot it was two hours ago. “Son of a bitch!”

Back in the family room, the guys were still in the same trance. Jack tossed two huge logs onto the fire, watched the sparks shoot upward, then shouted at the top of his lungs, “Campfire time, guys. I have additional information. Listen up.” He ripped open the munchie bags and handed out the beer once he had everyone's attention.

Ted was the first to speak. “What the hell did we all just agree to?”

“Where are we going?” Espinosa asked.

“Who's heading up this team?” Harry asked.

Bert and Jack raised their hands.

“Oh, shit!” Ted said.

“Ha! Listen, I said I had further news. Tomorrow morning we all report to this address to sign our contracts,” said Jack. “What Hank forgot to tell us, and what he told me to tell you all, is that there's a signing bonus. You're going to like this. It's two hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

His eyes as round as saucers, Espinosa said, “That's a quarter of a million dollars!”

“You do understand we're signing on to Global Securities for five years, right?” Jack asked.

The others nodded that they understood.

Ted's eyes were so glassy, Jack thought he could see himself in them. “I can repay the loan I took out to pay for that engagement ring and not sweat it,” Ted murmured.

The five of them sat down and started to talk. They spoke of their worries, of the future, which now seemed assured, of their hopes and dreams and the loves of their lives as they munched, drank, and stared at the dancing flames, which seemed to mesmerize them. When someone asked why Jellicoe had made them the offer, Jack told them what Jellicoe had told him.

“And to think Hank Jellicoe was someone we never knew but only heard about on the news or read about. And now he's saved all of us. What do you guys think? Is he really in love with the president? Or was he bullshitting me?” Jack asked.

As one, the guys shrugged.

“He didn't strike me as the kind of guy to make up a story like that. When we were on the mountain, Charles did say Hank goes in and out of the White House like it is his summer home. I guess it is possible. The president isn't married. She's attractive, so maybe he was telling the truth. The more important question would seem to be, do we care about his personal life?” Jack asked.

His eyes on the flickering fire, Bert responded, “Only in how it affects us. I have to be honest, I had my doubts about the pardons ever coming through. I've had more than one hairy nightmare over this. Jellicoe is leaving it up to us as to where we want to set up shop. I think we all need to sleep on it, talk it over with the girls. Then all of us can make a decision.”

“Jellicoe was pretty firm, Bert, on not talking to anyone, and he stressed
anyone,
about this until he gave the okay. Since Ted's the one with the loose lips, I think we need to agree we do as he says,” Jack said.