Patriots Betrayed (17 page)

“How large?”

He chose an amount large enough to convince her he needed the manager but not so large as to attract unwanted attention from the other patrons in the bank lobby. He leaned across the counter and whispered, “Over ten grand – cash.”

“Oh. Well, let me see if she’s busy.” The teller peeked into the open door of an office. “I think you can go on over.”

“Thanks.” Raylan stopped at the office door and waited to be invited in.

The striking brunette seemed young to be a bank manager, especially since this wasn’t a small branch office. He turned on the charm, but she was a bit young for him, so he didn’t overdo it. He knew his limitations when it came to women. Some women her age found him attractive, but certainly not all. Overdoing it here could cost him more than a dirty look. He had noticed the ring on her finger when he walked in, and took that into consideration, also. Just a little friendliness and charm was called for, but not too much.

Raylan offered his hand and when she rose from her chair to give him hers, he held it in both hands just for a second, staring into her eyes and smiling warmly. “My name is Frank Branston. You must have been off yesterday when I opened an account here. I certainly would have remembered you.”

“Julia, my assistant must have handled your request.” She sat down. “You might say she’s second in command here.” She glanced down at the papers he set on her desk in front of him. “My name is Sheryl.”

He sat in the chair and pretended to get comfortable. “I had a large sum transferred to my account here, and I would like to make a cash withdrawal. I won’t be receiving the debit card and checkbook in the mail for some time, and I have bills that must be paid before then.”

“I can give you some temporary checks until your regular checks arrive.”

“They won’t take a check.”

She tilted her head. “They will only take cash?”

“That’s the size of it. They won’t accept my out-of-state check, and I doubt they’ll take temporary checks to draw from my account here either. You see, I hired several men to do some work around a home I bought out in the country. You know the type. Kind of backwoodsy and rough around the edges. But they worked hard and got the job done right. I certainly don’t mind paying them; they earned it. Furthermore, it’s time to buy more lumber, and I’m purchasing it from a sawmill run by a man who also refuses to take my out-of-state checks. I’m learning fast that cash is king with the country folks in this county.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yeah, there are plenty like that around here.” She flashed a mischievous smile. “Of course it has nothing to do with the IRS and income tax.”

He gave her an understanding look, as if it were a private joke. “That’s between them and Uncle Sam. All I know is I pay my taxes. Whether they do or not is no worries of mine. They gave me my money’s worth and I owe them. That’s how I see it.”

“Okay, Mr. Branston, let’s see your account information and identification.”

He handed over several documents, including a driver’s license.

She punched in his account number and scanned the screen. Her eyes expanded a little, and she looked across the desk at him. “Nice numbers there, Mr. Branston. There is one problem: a waiting period of five days is standard for direct deposits like this. Come back next week.”

“Does that hold for simple bank-to-bank transfers? Those guys want to get paid.”

She thought for a moment. “Well, how much do you want?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Eventually I’m going to need thirty-five thousand, but can get by with less for now. I’m having the place remodeled.”

She stifled a laugh. “We don’t keep that kind of cash here.”

He feigned surprise. “You mean that small amount would break the bank?”

She rubbed her chin. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Branston. A man of your wealth would know that we deal with computer information mostly, not so much cash. What is the smallest amount that you can get by with today?”

Raylan walked out of the bank with fifteen thousand in one hundred dollar bills.

By prior arrangement, he walked out with twenty thousand the next week. That was as far as he would push his luck with her. Of course she filed the IRS forms notifying them of the large sums withdrawn, and federal law prohibited withdrawing just under the limit to trigger the necessity of filing such reports. CIA techies had by then tracked the money to the Topeka bank, and he couldn’t return for more cash. A kill team would be waiting. He could drain more out of the account with checks and the debit card, but that would leave a trail for their pursuers to follow.

The next day, his debit card and checkbook arrived at a Post Office Box he had rented.

Over the next few weeks, he wrote checks to himself and cashed them at other branch offices of his bank. It was a risky move, but he and Carla reconnoitered the bank and surrounding area before he set foot on the property. He also used the debit card at every grocer and department store in the county to get cash back, asking for the maximum allowed each time, usually sixty dollars. At the rate he was going, it would take forever to drain that million from his account. The most cash he got in one day using the debit card was just over eleven hundred dollars.

Carla thought it was funny. He had run himself ragged, draining the account in tiny amounts. For all his effort, he had collected less than fifty thousand in cash. Added to what he had left in his money belt, their cash reserve amounted to seventy-eight thousand. They also had a pile of canned goods and clothing he had purchased, along with more ammo for their weapons. He even found some ammo for the fifty, but it was inaccurate machinegun stuff, useful, but not for long range sniping. All of their newly purchased supplies were kept in an almost-new Ford van he had purchased from a private seller. It had become their de facto home and provided a way to keep the motorcycles out of sight. They equipped it with a small gas refrigerator and stove and installed a roof air-conditioner. A gas generator provided power when they camped in woods outside of town. They were not exactly living high, but were surviving as Raylan collected a little of that million.

It was time to leave town, so Raylan found another internet cafe and transferred nine hundred thousand to an account he had in Germany, then back to his old account in Florida, where it would stay until…well, he had no idea if Carla or he would ever see another dime of that money. He left plenty in the Topeka account to draw from, using the debit card and checks. But both would leave a trail for their enemies to follow, so he had to stop using them soon, if they were to find a place to hold out for a while.

They bought four five-gallon plastic gas cans and filled them, along with the van’s fuel tank, and hit the road again. The title for the van still had not been processed by DMV, and it was in a clean alias’s name, so it couldn’t be traced to them. Barring any serious contact with the police or being connected to the van someway, they should be able to travel anywhere in the U.S. with no trouble. They knew their motel habit would have to be shaken, so they resigned themselves to sleeping in the van and cleaning up wherever they could. As a measure to throw off their pursuers, Raylan left his debit card on the table of a truck stop eatery. A trucker heading for Mexico snatched it off the table on the way out and immediately started using it to buy fuel and food with as he traveled south. That little trick threw those hunting them off for several days. By that time, the two fugitives were in Idaho.

Chapter 10

While Raylan filled the van at an Idaho Falls gas station, Carla bought a few items in the convenience store. She returned with cold drinks and a paper. Sliding into the passenger seat, she kept her eyes glued to the front page.

Raylan finished fueling the van and got behind the wheel. Before he cranked the engine, Carla handed him the paper. “The shit’s hit the fan in Washington. Looks like some veteran groups have organized and are demanding the company be cleaned up and the crooks in Washington arrested.”

Raylan skimmed over the reports. “The usual government haters and bat-shits have also joined in.” He pointed. “Look.” A photo captured a woman holding up a sign demanding the president tell Americans the truth about UFOs and space aliens. “Well, the anarchists have good reason to bitch this time.” He handed the paper back to her. “Great that the vets are protecting what’s left of our freedoms, but as far as I’m concerned, we’re out of it. I just want to be left alone. If the people can’t get off their ass and do something about corruption this time, to hell with it.”

She looked across the seat at him. “Oh, that’s how it is now. Not that I blame you, but I don’t believe it.”

He started the van and put it in gear. “You don’t believe what?”

“That you don’t care. You love this country as much as anyone; it’s why you joined the company in the first place.”

Checking the traffic before pulling out of the drive, he asked, “And why is it you know all of that?”

“Because you told me.”

“I lie for a living, or did.”

“So did I. But we don’t lie to each other.”

He took his eyes off the road for a second and turned to her. “No. I’ve never lied to you. Never had to.”

She didn’t say anything for nearly a minute. “The woman you left back there, when you left your new life behind… do you love her? And don’t say there wasn’t anyone. I know you, and you wouldn’t live without a woman for long.”

He flinched. “That’s dirty, Carla. We were through when you left the company, and for all I knew you had married. As I recall it was you who insisted we stop seeing each other. You said it was time for you to leave everything behind, including me.”

“Don’t get mad. We’re adults. I was just asking because I don’t want her pulling you back.” She wiped her face. “It’s starting to feel like we never separated, like those years apart never happened. I just don’t want to be hurt is all.”

He reached over and took her hand. “If you’re afraid I’ll hurt you like you did me, don’t be. I’m not the kind to leave someone unless staying means her death. I think she and I were more like close friends, but I wouldn’t have dumped her if it didn’t mean her life. I had to leave everything behind, especially her, for her own safety.”

“But now that you’ve left her and you’re with me, what does that mean?”

“It means I’m with you, unless you run me off again.”

She squeezed his hand. “Did you ever think about why I had to ‘run you off,’ as you put it?”

“Every day for a long time.”

She lifted his hand to her face. “Company’s orders. It was one of the conditions of my retirement. They didn’t trust you keeping new secrets from me.”

He found a place to pull over, so they could talk. “I suspected they knew about us, but there was no way to know for certain.”

“So you didn’t hate me as much as I hated myself?”

“Of course I didn’t hate you. A woman has the right to end a relationship, especially a CIA spook. You know, I contacted you because you were in danger. I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

She forced a smile. “I wonder what made you think that. All those killers outside my apartment?”

“Yeah. Just crazy I guess.” He pulled out into traffic. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, I would rather not see any more tears.”

“Right. We’ll keep the topic on less painful stuff, like how not to get killed.” She looked out her window. “I’m sure that’s less scary for you.”

“True.”

~~~

President Riley flung the morning’s newspaper in the wastebasket. “Another series of reports raging against me and the CIA. Congress is buried under letters, emails, and calls demanding my impeachment. I’m starting to feel like Nixon must have when his own party turned against him.”

CIA Director Dulling sat in the Oval Office and sipped his coffee. “This Tea Party nut, Senator Sandy Mann, has been in the opposition forefront, calling for your resignation.”

“Yeah,” President Riley said, “so I’ve noticed. I sure wish that bastard would fall off a cliff and disappear.”

Trey pretended he didn’t hear the president suggest the assassination of a sitting U.S. senator.

“What do you think, Trey?” Dulling asked.

Trey stopped examining the intricate artwork on the ceiling long enough to pretend to answer. “I’m certain that Senator Mann’s parents were married. Therefore technically, he’s not a bastard.”

Dulling almost spit his coffee on the carpet. “I was asking about the Sand Man, as he’s called by his friends, falling off a cliff.”

Trey couldn’t hide his distaste with the subject. “Do me a favor and don’t ask questions like that. I want no part of it. There’s no evidence to suggest Senator Mann is a threat to national security, so he’s not on my radar. The president’s political problems are not part of my job, and unless Senator Mann has become a spy for a foreign nation or has joined a terrorist group, there is no reason for me to put him on my radar.”

Dulling leaned closer with a devilish smirk. “You didn’t vote for him, did you? The Tea Party’s full of racists and anti-Semites. Everybody knows that.”

Trey rolled his eyes. “Even if it were true, that doesn’t fall within my job description. There is no evidence the Tea Party is a national threat. They’re actually less violent than the Democrat Party.”

Dulling seemed surprised. “You being black, one would think you’d be more sensitive to such things.”

Trey grew tired of the games. “I appreciate your concern for my blackness and sensitivity, but this conversation is going nowhere. Stop the shit. The fact is the president is in hot water because of you and the CIA, so stop the bullshit.”

Dulling started to reply, but was cut off by President Riley. “Trey’s got a point. My falling off a cliff comment was rhetorical.” He pointed a warning finger. “Do not touch Senator Mann, James, or any other senator or congressman. I’ve had enough of your trigger-happy shenanigans. I’m also beginning to think I should call you off those two former agents. They’ve done all the damage they can do anyway.”

Dulling grew serious. “The rogue agents can still do immeasurable damage to national security. They know too much.” He glanced at Trey and back to the president. “If you want a more detailed report, we’ll have to have some privacy.”