Patriots Betrayed (23 page)

“Did they say where Janowski is now?” Raylan noticed Ramirez was starting to appear groggy.

“Palm Beach, Florida.”

Raylan blinked. The thought Janowski was in the U.S. and within reach stirred the hunter’s blood coursing through his body.

Carla spoke up. “We’re in the parking lot. I’ll drive up to the emergency entrance when you’re ready.”

Raylan snatched Ramirez’s cell phone off his belt. “Cops will be all over this place any second, expecting wounded to show up.” He punched in 911. “Get us up there, and I’ll dump them both out.”

Carla raised her voice. “Hell no. Ramirez dies. He’s a piece of shit.”

Raylan ignored her temporarily while he spoke to the emergency services dispatcher. “Listen carefully. A CIA operative who has been drugged will be dropped off at Mercy Hospital. Inform the CIA. Another man with a GSW in the upper leg will also be dropped off. He is the one who drugged him. He also was involved in the torture and murder of CIA operative Mitch Swanson. Have the local police hold him. This is a national security matter. Take what I have told you as fact and act accordingly.” He hung up. “Drive on up, Carla. What the company will give him is worse punishment than if we let him bleed out. Dying in this van is too easy for this bastard.”

Chapter 16

President Riley listened intently until acting CIA Director Brantly Ottoman finished his oral report, not interrupting. “So it was Maddox and Baylor who dropped the doctor and the CIA operative off at the hospital. What was the CIA guy’s name?”

“Better if you don’t know,” Ottoman answered. “He may still go back into the field, and his real identity shouldn’t be bandied around.”

“I understand. So he’s recovering well?”

“Yes sir.”

“And the doctor. Has he been talking?”

“No resistance at all. He was close to death that day. The bullet clipped a major artery. But the doctors saved him. He says a man working for Janowski hired him to help bleed Swanson dry and he was just about to start with the other man when Maddox and Baylor showed up and spoiled the party.”

“Strange.” Riley turned and looked out the window of the Oval Office. “Despite everything, they help us and save a CIA agent.”

Ottoman’s chest rose. He appeared to be sick to his stomach. “Not so strange when you understand that they are patriots who love this country and are willing to die for it. They also are willing to die for a fellow CIA operative – if he is honest and not a traitor.”

Riley spun around, his eyes flaring. “If you know of any traitors in your organization, they shouldn’t be there. In fact they should be behind bars.”

“Yes, Mister President, I’m working on that.”

“Good. We need to clean Dulling’s stench from the CIA and anywhere else it still lingers. And call me Preston.”

“I would rather…be more formal, sir.”

Riley forced a smile. “Preston isn’t formal enough? Hell, it sounds more formal than Riley.”

“Maybe later I will feel more comfortable with being on a first name basis.”

Riley nodded, understanding fully. “You’ve had a rough time, serving under Dulling, haven’t you?”

Ottoman squirmed in his seat. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“You know exactly what I mean. And serving under me hasn’t been so great, either.”

Ottoman examined his tie but said nothing.

Riley sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “Look, Brant, let’s cut right through the shit to the truth. The fact is you know Dulling had me by the balls for some time, and I was forced to look the other way while he broke every damn law ever written. I’m here to tell you that’s over. He’s gone.”

Ottoman raised his face to look Riley squarely in the eye and kept quiet, listening.

“You say you want to retire. Okay. But I would rather you stay on. I’m thinking of nominating you for Director. I know you’ve made it clear you don’t want the job, but think about it. In the mean time, I would like for you to ferret out the rotten wood in the CIA house and perform a complete remodeling.” Riley’s eyes met Ottoman’s. He didn’t look away and didn’t show any sign he wanted to. “Would you do that for the country? Forget about me. My term will end soon enough, and I’ll be out of here. I’m talking about the country, the American people.”

“I’m sixty-three years old, Mr. President, some jobs are too big to complete in a lifetime.”

Riley glanced up at the ceiling. “Yes, so much work must be passed on to the next generation, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do what we can. Just as some mistakes cannot be undone in a lifetime, but we should try.”

Ottoman stared Riley down. “Some mistakes require punishment. You must accept that, Mr. President. Until you do, I cannot… uh… be on a first name basis with you, and I cannot accept your nomination for Director.”

Riley flinched, looked away, and bit his lip. “You drive a hard bargain. What you ask would end my ability to undo any other mistakes I committed, and it would dump the entire mess Dulling made in others’ lap. There must be something else I can do. I mean, what you ask, I was already thinking about, but it would be my last act as president, so it must be my last act as president, if you get my drift.”

“I do.”

“Well, I’m sure you will not take my word that I’ll do it later, after I’ve done all I can do to clean up Dulling’s mess, so we’re at an impasse.”

Ottoman sat up straight on the edge of his seat. “Mr. President, I am not sitting here passing judgment and I will not talk to the press or Congress – ever. This is not the ghost of Dulling sitting here blackmailing you. Neither of us can claim sainthood. I sat by and pretended I didn’t see what Dulling was doing because he could have had my family harmed and because I was close to retirement and planned to just collect my pay and get out soon. I must confess, also, that I thought the corruption was too vast and entrenched too deeply for one man or a thousand to do anything about it but get himself killed. Yes, I am a coward. A coward who has worked with people like Mitch Swanson and the man Maddox and Baylor saved, people who put their lives in danger at our command on the promise that it is for the protection of the American people and not for personal gain or political favors. Baylor and Maddox are two people of that ilk, yet we are at this moment endeavoring to hunt them down and kill them.” Ottoman’s face hardened. “Mr. President, if you want to prove to me your sincerity, rescind the sanction order of those two. Then I will think about staying on at the CIA.”

Riley’s eyes lit up. “Done.”

Ottoman sat back in his chair and relaxed.

Riley examined Ottoman’s reaction with interest. “Is there anything else?”

“We need to keep it quiet. Just let it go. The two thinking we’re still after them will keep them on their toes and alert. It may keep them alive. The Russian Mob wants them dead, and they need to be at their best game. Also, we should call off all the law enforcement agencies. Remove all wants and warrants from the system. That part, we release to the press. We want them to know the police are not hunting them anymore. They’ve managed so far not to kill a cop, and it was only through their care and just plain luck that hasn’t happened. It was a Russian who killed the cop in New Mexico, not them.”

“We can’t call Congress off, and they want them to testify.”

“We’ll worry about that if they live and if they come in.”

“Okay. But what is all this about. What are you up to?”

“You want to clean house? Janowski is after Maddox for reasons I won’t get into. After what happened in New Mexico, Maddox and Baylor know where he is. This is more between Maddox and Janowski, but Baylor is along for the ride because of Maddox, so she’s in too. I expect Janowski isn’t long for this world. Let it play out. Legally, we have no proof that’ll hold up in court. The quack doctor’s testimony would be a joke, especially since all he has is overhearing this Viktor talking with Janowski. Without Viktor’s testimony, it’s worthless in court. Janowski isn’t likely to stay in the States long and will be out of our reach before we have the warrant to arrest him. He’s got people in the Justice Department who would tip him off and a jet waiting to take him anywhere in the world. So the only way we can touch Janowski is through our two rogue agents.”

“This is a bit dirty. I’m through with that.”

“Actually, it’s the very kind of thing the CIA usually does. Janowski is an arms smuggler and has been known to deal in nuclear material, a clear and present danger to the security of the United States.”

“And a sadistic slaver,” Riley added.

“There’s that too. A real turd.”

“In the meantime?” Riley walked over to a small table to pour himself a cup of coffee. First, he offered it to Ottoman, who shook his head.

“I’ll keep working on cleaning my house. There are many good people helping me.”

Riley took a sip. “And after it plays out?”

“Maddox and Baylor die.”

Riley almost dropped his cup.

~~~

A Dassault Falcon 7 X sat in a distant, out-of-the-way area of Orlando International Airport, its running lights still blinking in the dark and jet engines just winding down.

Eighteen hardened men emerged from the open door, their thin faces expressionless, part of a private army of specialist mercenaries. Viktor looked them over. Satisfied, he spoke in Russian, “Grab your bags and come with me.” They each picked up a small black duffel bag at their feet. They contained just enough basic clothing to get them by for a few days. Weapons, ammunition, and explosives were waiting at Janowski’s mansion. He led them through an open gate where a security guard stood holding a packet of pay-off money to a minibus waiting in the parking lot. There would be no customs search of the men’s bags or any scrutiny of their travel papers. The men wasted no time, piling in. The driver sped away.

Viktor walked to the black Mercedes and pulled a burn phone from a pocket before ducking in and closing the door behind him. He punched a number while the driver followed the minibus onto the street and then the highway, heading for Palm Beach.

Janowski answered. “Yeah, what?”

“The last group is en route, sir.”

“Very good. Any update on the other matter?” Janowski asked.

“Our contacts have nothing new to report. They haven’t shown up in any police reports either. No one has seen them since New Mexico, and there are a lot of people hunting them.”

“Well, we both know that fool doctor talked and they’re heading here.”

“Those two aren’t the only ones he talked to. I advise you to go home and let me handle this.”

Janowski raised his voice. “I heard you yesterday. Advice is great, but once is enough. My ears work fine, and I don’t forget.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Let me know if there are any new developments.” Janowski terminated the call.

A burly Russian approached Janowski at the swimming pool behind his mansion. “I just completed a sweep of the neighborhood. Other than a teen couple making out on the beach, I found no one moving around on foot. This being a gated community helps to keep civilians out of the way, and at the moment there is nothing suspicious going on.” His light suit was soaked with sweat. “It’s too hot for most of the neighbors to be wondering about on foot tonight.”

“Make sure your men stay alert,” Janowski said. “I’m expecting trouble any time.” He decided to go for a swim and cool off, just hoping Raylan would try something. In a couple hours, he would have enough firepower and men to take on the local police force. Certainly, they could handle a man and a woman.

Chapter 17

The humid night was typical of Florida, even though it was getting a little late in the year. The van was parked under the shade of trees and hidden in the lowland fog. Raylan slept for the first time in twenty hours. In the back of the van, next to him lay Carla. The heat and the smell of Ramirez’s blood would have kept them awake if not for their fatigue. They had the back doors wide open and a bug net stretched across the opening to welcome in what little cooling breeze there was and yet keep mosquitoes out. Sounds emitted from the emerald gloom of the night forest, and low to the ground, the undergrowth stirred with the movement of swamp creatures, as they roused themselves for nocturnal hunting. Several bullfrogs sounded off in a distant bayou. Farther distant, the whine of truck tires on a highway gave evidence they were still in civilization.

They were only twenty-five miles northwest of Palm Beach and yet a world away from the opulence of Janowski’s gated community.

~~~

Morning broke and with it the sun’s hot rays streamed in at an angle, landing on Raylan’s face and stirring him. He opened his eyes and immediately noticed Carla was not there. Bolting upright in alarm, he caught himself when the smell of coffee and eggs being prepared over a campfire came to his nose. He slid his pants on and grabbed the Glock. Following the aroma, he tread on bare feet until he came to Carla bent over a fire, forking eggs onto a plate.

His movement caught her eye. “You better put your boots on,” she warned. “The rattlers are crawling this morning.”

He rubbed sleep from his eyes. “I got my pants and my pistol, so I’m okay.” He watched his step, looking not so much for snakes but objects that could puncture his bare feet, as he moved closer to the fire and poured himself a cup of coffee.

She forked the rest of the eggs onto another plate. “Better eat fast, because by noon I’m going to be in a shower. If not, I’m deserting this outfit.”

He sipped from the cup. “Okay. But I want to do a recon sometime before dark today. We need to move fast before Janowski hops on his jet and heads back to Russia.”

She washed down a mouth full of eggs with a steaming sip of coffee. “You’ll just chase after him there, or anywhere else in the world he flees to.”

Raylan appeared determined. “I plan to kill him before he leaves Florida.”

She wiped her hands on a paper towel. “Might be my bullet that does the job.”

“As long as he’s sent to hell where he belongs.”

“Do you believe that BS we heard on the radio last night?”