Political Suicide (36 page)

“Wait a min—”

“Five,” Edith said.

“This is … bigger than you realize,” Hogarth stammered. “There are reasons for what we’re doing.”

“Four.”

“I can’t just stop it. Do you understand what you’re doing? How much planning and preparation has gone into this? You’re putting American lives at risk.”

“Three.”

“Jesus! Give me a second!”

“Two.”

Edith took Sarah by the arm and turned her toward where the Mercedes waited.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it! I’ll stop it. Jesus, I’ll stop it. You two get back in your car and follow me.”

CHAPTER 49

Lou watched the somber processional of Mantis marines ascend the portable staircase into the transport. He was desperate to try to stop them but, in his current situation, incapable of doing so. Along with Cap and Papa Steve, he’d had his hands secured behind his back with plastic cuffs by two marines he assumed were Palace Guards, and he was forced to a kneeling position on the cold tarmac. The men of Operation Talon had then waited until a call was placed to the air force base MPs before turning their backs and boarding the plane.

Floodlights gave Lou a view of the orderly departure. Weapons and other provisions were efficiently being loaded into the cargo hold of the massive twin-engine jet. Members of Operation Talon, dressed in military fatigues and dark combat boots, vanished one by one through the plane’s open cabin door. As the last of them disappeared into the cabin, kneeling there in the darkness and the cold, Lou quietly wept.

Cap, who had fully recovered from the Taser shock, knelt between Papa Steve and Lou. “They could be boarding a flight to Disney or something,” he said. “Just a regular ol’ plane ride. What is that, anyway?”

“It’s a Boeing C-40 Clipper, the military version of a 737,” Papa Steve explained. “The navy uses them for logistic support.”

“Logistic support, my ass,” Cap said. “Do you think the pilots know that every one of their passengers is going to die before this mission is done?”

“It’s not like that, my friend,” Papa Steve said. “Soldiers are trained to follow orders. These men are doing their jobs—what they believe is right.”

Lou’s thoughts were focused elsewhere. “I didn’t give Sarah enough time to deal with Hogarth,” he said. “This screwup is my fault.”

Papa Steve turned and made eye contact. “Doc, we’ve got Brody nailed for murder. I wouldn’t exactly call that a screwup. I thought you AA people believe that you can only do what you can do.”

“It’s pretty sad, Welcome, when you have to be reminded about this stuff by an earth person,” Cap said, using the AA phrase for a nonalcoholic. “As your sponsor, I hereby prescribe more meetings for you, and less time on the pity pot.”

“There’s still time,” Papa Steve said. “Take it from an old experienced geezer,” Papa Steve said, “so long as Brody doesn’t just blow us away, anything can happen.”

Lights from a pair of approaching vehicles appeared in the distance.
The MPs,
Lou thought. It appeared that, thanks to the men of Operation Talon, there was no longer a chance for Brody to do anything devious … at least for the moment. Just as the sound of the cars became audible over the rumble of the jet, the lead one began blaring its horn and flashing its lights. Sanctuary. The military police vehicles were their escort to a detention center somewhere on the air base—somewhere away from Wyatt Brody.

It was then Lou realized the vehicles were civilian, not military, the lead one a Mercedes.
Sarah!

“Hey, if you’re gonna be carted off to jail, might as well go in style,” Cap said.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the MPs,” Lou said.

Anything can happen, Papa Steve had said.

With a burst of acceleration, the second car, a black Escalante, zoomed ahead of the Mercedes and skidded to a stop several feet in front of the transport’s staircase. The driver’s-side door flew open, and Secretary Spencer Hogarth stumbled out, shouting. “Brody! Where’s Brody, dammit! Somebody find me Brody!”

The Mercedes came to a hard stop thirty feet or so behind the Cadillac. A second later, Sarah jumped out, followed by a woman wearing dark sunglasses and a fur-lined jacket, brandishing a folding cane.
Edith!
Sarah’s eyes met Lou’s immediately. He could see triumph in them.

“Unlock these men right now!” Sarah shouted to the Mantis marines standing guard.

“Sorry, ma’am, these men are to be detained by the MPs. Colonel Brody’s orders.”

“We’ll see about that. Are you guys all right?”

Ignoring the guards, she helped the three prisoners to their feet. Above them, the men of Operation Talon’s faces were pressed to the portholes.

“Where is Brody, Lou? Hogarth is going ballistic. I told him that we had absolute proof Brody killed Elias Colston, and I thought his heart was going to stop. We made a deal I’ll tell you about regarding Operation Talon, and then he went off the wall.”

“I saw Brody board the plane a while ago,” Cap said. “Maybe he decided to go on the mission after all, or maybe he was trying to do a repair job on the nose I busted.”

“This mission isn’t going on the mission,” Sarah said. “Secretary Hogarth is about to see to that. Hang tight, guys. We’ll get you out of those handcuffs. But we’ve got to find Brody first.”

Several Talon marines had retraced their steps down the stairs to see what the commotion was about. Hogarth, meanwhile, continued to shout out Brody’s name. Lou had seen explosive rage before, but mostly in the blackout drunks he and the orderlies and security staff at Eisenhower Memorial were too often forced to subdue. The anger Spencer Hogarth was exhibiting went beyond nearly anything Lou had experienced. It was as though the man who sat near the president’s right hand had become detached from reason. He spun around in a series of frenetic circles, his overcoat flapping like a cape. Spittle shot from the snarling rictus of his mouth. His eyes were wild, his cheeks crimson.

“Wyatt Brody! You show yourself right now, you bastard—you murdering dumb-ass son of a bitch. Get out here. Do you hear me? Where is Brody?”

From the top of the transport stairs, there was movement. Mantis marines who were congregated at the base parted like the biblical Red Sea. Wyatt Brody, his parka unzipped, hands on hips, emerged from the cabin of the plane and had paused like the pope on his balcony. His nose was swollen and discolored. A storm cloud had settled across his glowering face and darkened as he connected with Hogarth. “What’s the meaning of this?” he shouted. “What are you doing, Spencer?”

“What am I doing? I’m trying to do damage control because you went off plan.”

Lou watched, fascinated, as Brody charged down the staircase to confront his mentor. Once on the runway, he and Hogarth stood red face to red face, two snarling alpha male wolves asserting themselves to retain control of the pack.

“What are you talking about, Spencer? This
is
the plan. With all due respect, you need to get a grip on your reality.”

“If you didn’t kill Elias Colston, none of this would have happened.”

“I don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about. I never—”

“Enough! They know, Wyatt. They know all about Talon and Mantis. They know about the armories. We have to shut it down, and we have to go into damage control mode—effective immediately.”

“Spencer, you need to take a step back and think about what you’re saying. This mission can’t just be rescheduled. We have ten high-value targets that are going down. Operation Talon is a go.”

“Only with my blessing!” Hogarth bellowed. “I’m in charge of this mission, and I’m pulling the plug. Civilians, Brody. Civilians know about what we’re doing here. Do you understand what that means? Do you grasp the ramifications?”

“I grasp that you are not sounding rational at the moment. You’re threatening years of planning and hard work. My work, damn you! Now, I don’t know what this is all about, but I do know I’m not backing down.”

“It’s about you killing Elias Colston, you stupid ass!” Hogarth shouted, spraying the Mantis commander. “And because of that, we’ve got a massive security breach on our hands. Colston was not a threat, Wyatt. He wasn’t going to blow the whistle on Mantis. You misread him, and it’s cost us all. Now, you stand down this instant. Mantis is over. Operation Talon is over. Effective immediately.”

“You’re crazy!”

“That sort of insubordination will not be tolerated. This mission is over.”

“No! Nothing is over until I say it’s over. Nothing! Now, get ahold of yourself and back away, Spencer. I mean it.”

Lou and Sarah exchanged stunned looks.

Hogarth fell silent. But if anything, his eyes were even wilder, his expression more deranged. “That’s it. I’m done with you,” he said in a chillingly calm tone. “I’m relieving you of your command. Effective immediately.”

“Under whose authority?”

“Under whose authority?” Hogarth was incredulous. “How about mine? I’m the secretary of defense, for chrissakes, and Operation Talon is my operation to run—and to cancel.”

From his overcoat pocket, Hogarth drew a pistol and aimed it at Brody’s midsection.

“You have cost this country a great deal, Wyatt. A great deal, indeed. Now, tell your men this mission is over.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Brody said.

“Tell them it’s over! Do it now!”

“No! Men, you get back on that plane this instant. Spencer, give me that fucking gun. You and I will discuss this matter after departure. This mission is a go! I will not be denied!”

Fumbling for a pistol in his belt, Brody charged the older man. A pair of flashes burst from Hogarth’s gun along with two whiplike cracks that became suspended in the December air.

Brody staggered several feet backwards, clutching at his abdomen. Blood soaked through his shirt and oozed between his fingers. He stared down in utter dismay at the source of his pain, then looked, eyes glazed, at Hogarth—a bewildered child surveying an abusive parent.

Why did you do this to me? Why?

Brody raised his pistol. Blood continued to drip briskly from his belly to the space between his feet. He tried to level his gun, but his hand began to shake violently.

“You brought this on yourself,” Hogarth said. He fired once more.

Brody crumpled lifeless to the asphalt, blood pooling around his inert body.

The secretary of defense lowered his weapon and turned to the Mantis marines staring at him. “He was going to kill me,” he said with no remorse. “You’re all witnesses. He was going to kill me.”

CHAPTER 50

Smoke from Spencer Hogarth’s gun vanished on the night breeze. Holding up his hands without holstering his weapon, Hogarth circled several times, pleading his case for justified homicide to dozens of witnesses.

“You all saw that,” he said. “Brody was going to kill me. I had no choice. Somebody call an ambulance. Now!”

His plea seemed to break the spell. Four Mantis marines rushed to Brody’s side; one of them had procured a field medic kit, as if lifesaving were still a possibility. Numbly, Hogarth continued turning, until his gaze fell on Lou and the two others—not actually seeing them, Lou sensed, so much as assessing them.

Who are these men?

Why are they handcuffed?

Why are they even here at a top secret mission?

Is that one in the fatigues Mantis?

“Unlock these men,” Hogarth ordered, as if testing whether or not his authority had survived.

For several moments, there was no response; then two marines moved forward and cut away the manacles. Lou rubbed at his wrists. Cap and Papa Steve seemed steadier.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Hogarth asked Papa Steve, as if the man he had just shot to death wasn’t there at all.

“Sir, Captain Steve Papavassiliou, of Mantis Company, sir! These are my companions, Dr. Lou Welcome and Cap Duncan. Admiral Hogarth, sir, please put away the gun.”

Hogarth ignored the request. He seemed to be looking straight through Papa Steve. His attention soon turned to Lou. “So where is the murder weapon?” the secretary asked. “The one Brody used to kill Elias Colston.”

“It’s safe,” Lou said, not at all surprised that Hogarth had pieced together his involvement. “That’s all I can say.”

“I see.” Hogarth continued to dangle his pistol loosely at his side.

Lou felt Cap tense and knew he was readying himself to charge, as he had done with Brody. “No, Cap. Wait him out,” he said in a half whisper.

Lou was shaking. Not out of fear, but with rage. It was as if the man was standing in the center of a formal gathering without a stitch of clothing on, and acting as if it were situation normal. He wanted to leap on Hogarth himself, and beat him to within a breath of his disgraced and disgraceful life. This was the man who had blinded Edith and hired killers to remove those who stood against him. This was the man obsessed with power and control, who had orchestrated the combat deaths of any number of Marines. This was one half of the dual-headed beast known as Mantis.

The Mantis marines and Major Coon were on the radio, desperately calling for help.

“We seem to have a very serious problem, gentlemen,” Hogarth went on, keeping his gaze fixed on Lou, “a problem that requires a great deal of discretion from all of you.”

“No disrespect, pal,” Cap said, taking a half step forward, “but I think you’ve got bigger issues on your plate than what we say or don’t say.”

Looking utterly shocked, Hogarth glared at Cap. “You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, you … vermin. What you’ve just heard, what you’ve seen here, what you know, cannot be made public. Not now, not ever. You have been exposed to highly classified information. This is a CIA, military black op. Top secret. You are this far from being charged with treason. Perhaps if you’re willing to cooperate by keeping your silence, we—and by ‘we’ I mean the government of the United States of America—would be willing to negotiate.”

“I do appreciate the offer from such a fine, upstanding man as yourself,” Cap said, moving another inch forward. “Honest, I do. But when I said you’ve got bigger issues on your plate, I wasn’t talking about the guy you killed, lying over there by the staircase.”