The Assassin's Trail (10 page)

Alexandria, VA

Thursday

Roy Griffin woke, disoriented, to the sound of a phone ringing. By the time he was coherent enough to understand it was his cell phone, the call was sent to voicemail. He retrieved the caller ID and immediately knew it was not good news. His wife was in California visiting her mother and normally did not call after 9 p.m. Eastern Time. The cell phone showed the time as 1:05 a.m.

Skipping the voicemail message, he immediately called her back. She answered on the first ring.

“Roy, Mom’s cancer is back.”

Roy could tell she was crying. “How bad is it, Cheryl?”

“They’re not expecting her to live through the weekend. Please come home, I need you. She needs you.”

“Okay, I’ll get the first flight I can find this morning. Are you at the hospital now?”

“Yes, she’s asleep. I’m planning to stay the night.”

“Okay, tell her I’ll be there as soon as possible. Try to get some rest.”

“I will. Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll call you back as soon as I know about my flight.”

Roy ended the call and started going through a check list of what he needed to do. His first step was to call his administrative assistant, then call United to make a reservation. He didn’t have to pack; he was going home. But he would need a small suitcase with briefing papers. Finally, he would need to call the limo service for transportation to the airport.

By 2 a.m. he was done.  His flight would leave Reagan International at 7 a.m. and arrive in San Francisco just after 11 a.m. Pacific Time. A limo service would pick him up in three-and-a-half hours. 

Lying back in bed, his thoughts turned to his mother-in-law. She had been his biggest supporter during his run for Congress. In fact she was his campaign’s primary fundraiser. Her contacts and influence paved the way for winning the election. Many a late night were spent sitting in her living room, enjoying a good Napa cabernet sauvignon and discussing what his priorities would be once he was in Congress. She never doubted for a moment he would win the election. In her mind, it was inevitable. The realization she would be gone soon brought a tear to his eye. He would miss her encouragement, her guidance and her sense of right and wrong. 

Memorial Day was only two weeks away and Congress was already getting ready for recess. Knowing he would not get back to sleep, he got up, opened his laptop and sent his assistant an email outlining his plans. He would not return until the second week in June. Staying away from Washington for an extended period would make Cheryl happy. She detested the place. Now they would both need to stay in California for a while to settle his mother-in-law’s extensive estate.

***

Billy Reid arrived early in the congressman’s neighborhood. One more reconnaissance to confirm when Griffin started his morning run. This morning, something was wrong. He watched the limo driver place a black suitcase in the trunk as the congressman entered the car’s back seat. Once the driver was behind the wheel, he backed the limo out of the driveway and sped away. With his pickup two miles away in the mall parking lot, following the limo was not going to happen. An unfortunate development. As he rode back to the pickup, he wondered where the congressman was going and how long he would be gone. 

When he returned to his apartment, he checked the congressman's website, there was an update in his Schedule a Meeting link, The Congressman will be in his home district until after the Memorial Day recess. He will return to Washington the second week in June. Billy stared at the message. Griffin would be away from Washington for the next four weeks. A full week outside the timeline he was supposed to follow. He wasn’t sure how Ortega would react, but there was not much he could do about it.

The communications to and from Ortega took most of the afternoon, but confirmed he would wait until the congressman returned. The job had to be done in Washington, D.C.

Billy had no problem waiting. He had plenty of money, plenty of video games, and now plenty of time to immerse himself in the experience.

***

Ortega read the first message from Billy, frowned, and deleted the message. He tapped his finger on the table next to his laptop. There would have to be another target before the congressman. There could not be a four-week gap in the assassinations. Pressure had to be kept up or the news media would lose interest. If the news media lost interest, so would Congress. If Congress lost interest, their demands—when made—would be ignored. 

It was time to utilize Cooper's expertise again. After finishing the email draft to Cooper, he sent the text message with the new password.

The media coverage of the Kansas City operation had been splendid. Glancing at the clock on his laptop, it was time for a news update. He turned on CNN and stared horrified at the images on the TV. CNN had a helicopter hovering over the sight of a massive explosion on a farm outside of Atmore, AL. What shocked Ortega was the image of Thomas Cooper's driver’s license picture superimposed on the screen.

Had Thomas accidently detonated one of his bombs, or was it something else? He turned the volume up: “…first reports from the scene tell us a routine arrest attempt by the Escambia, Alabama, County Sheriff's Department may have led to an explosion leveling the residence of Thomas Cooper. There are no details on whether Mr. Cooper was present. It is also unknown if actions by the sheriff's department triggered the explosion.”

The image shifted from an aerial view of the chaos to an announcer sitting behind a desk.  

“Preliminary reports indicate the detonation originated from within the house. In addition, we are told by a confidential source Cooper was a person of interest in the Kansas City bombing that occurred last Monday. No other details are known at this time.”

Ortega tried to remain calm as he listened and stared at the TV. The anchor continued, “We now have a correspondent on the scene. We take you to Scott Burnett.”

The view switched to a reporter standing in a road. Behind him, in the distance, the smoldering remains of the house served as a backdrop.

“We are standing at the entrance to a small farm seven miles east of Atmore, Alabama. This is as close as local law enforcement will allow us at this time. Neighbors have identified the owner as Thomas Cooper. He’s described as an outstanding young man, volunteer fireman and Iraq war veteran. We are told he volunteers at a local animal shelter and helps his neighbors during hard times. The sheriff's department has not made any comments at this time. Scott Burnett, CNN.”

Ortega started pacing. He rubbed his forehead with his hands and his breathing quickened. Mumbling to himself he said, “Has the FBI found one of us faster than expected? I knew someone would be caught, but Cooper had only completed one job.”

He stopped pacing and stared at the TV again. “Did you set off the explosion yourself, Cooper? If you did, I hope you made sure your laptop didn’t survive.”

As he watched the images on TV, the question about the laptop, and wondering if the FBI could discover anything incriminating, made him breathe even harder. He placed his palms on his forehead and his eyes widened.

“Oh shit. Cooper’s cell phone has my number on it.”

He walked to the night stand of the hotel room, where his cell phone was located, and turned it off. Taking the back off the phone, he removed the battery and SIMM card. He flushed the SIMM card down the hotel toilet. Tomorrow he would get another phone and inform the remaining members of his team about the new number.

The CNN reporter was introduced again and said, “We’ve been told additional FBI agents are in route to this location to assist the lone FBI agent currently on site. Both the on-site FBI agent and the Escambia County Sheriff's Department have not issued a statement or answered any of our questions. One development we’ve observed over the past hour is an increasing number of deputies guarding a barn behind the house.”

“Wait a minute.” There was a pause as the reporter turned to his right. “I’m seeing a convoy of military Humvees rapidly approaching. They just made a detour across a corn field heading directly toward the barn we just mentioned.”

Ortega continued to stare at the TV.

“Damn, they found the C4.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Cooper, you idiot.”

The camera followed as five Humvees sped across the field toward the barn, the lead vehicle stopping in front while the others parked strategically around the building. As each stopped moving, soldiers emerged in full battle dress armed with automatic weapons. An older uniformed man without a helmet stepped out of the lead Humvee. He was met by a tall man in a blue polo shirt and a man with a FBI windbreaker. They all hurried into the barn as two other soldiers quickly closed the doors to the barn. Two additional soldiers took up station outside the door and stood guard. As the camera continued to focus on the barn, the correspondent said, “I believe we just saw the sheriff of Escambia County and the FBI agent meet the commander of the military convoy.”

Ortega stopped paying attention. He knew exactly what had happened. Cooper had stored all of their C4 in the barn. All the work they had done to secure it was now wasted.

He slammed his fist on the desk and screamed, “Damn you, Cooper.” 

After several more minutes of watching the events in Alabama, he started packing.

Escambia County, AL

Thursday

Kruger watched as deputies set up a command post and roped off the smoldering remains of the house as they waited for the local fire department. Sheriff Lamb walked up to him and said, “Sorry I doubted you back at the office.”

Kruger smiled, “No problem. You realize this is going to get real ugly, real quick. Reporters, FBI, military, you name it, they’ll arrive shortly and the circus will begin.”

“Son, this would have gotten ugly with or without you. Glad we found the C4 before someone used it.”

“Let’s hope this was all of it.” Kruger turned and stared at the barn. “I don’t think he was acting alone. How could he have gotten this much C4 by himself? He’s been out of the military for several years.”

Lamb stopped walking, looked at Kruger, and said, “Good question. That stuff’s not exactly available at the local farm supply store.”

Kruger shook his head. “No, it isn’t.”

In the distance, they heard sirens approaching.

“That will be the local fire department,” Lamb said. “Guess I’d better make sure they don’t spray down any evidence.”

He walked toward the smoldering remains of the farm house with three deputies following.

Kruger’s cell phone vibrated. He checked the caller ID and answered, “Kruger.”

“Give me a rundown,” Seltzer said. “The corner office is asking lots of questions and I can’t answer any of them.”

After briefly summarizing the fire fight, Kruger told him about the discovery of the C4 and the destruction of the house.

Seltzer said, “Okay, you've got Air Force Special Operations coming out of Elgin Air Force Base. They should be there within the hour and will take charge of the C4. Dollar commandeered one of the Bureau’s jets and is bringing his team. They should be there before dark. The deputy director told me to tell you good job, but that’s unofficial right now. Dollar is whining about being kept out of the loop. He’s claiming you’re grandstanding, again.”

Kruger sighed. “Figures. He’ll probably come down here, look around, and declare he solved the case. Wait till he meets the local sheriff.”

“Who’s the sheriff?”

“His name’s Gordon Lamb.”

Seltzer was silent for a few seconds and then started laughing. “About six foot four, looks like an old hound dog, doesn’t say a lot?”

“Yeah, that’s him. We got off to a rocky start, but after I told him what was going on, he jumped on board. Good man.”

“You don’t remember him, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s ex-Bureau. One of the rising stars about twelve years ago. He was in line to be deputy director one day. The man’s got more commendations than any other agent in the bureau’s history. One day, he just walked into the director’s office, told him to shove the job and resigned. I lost track of him after that. Guess he’s been in Alabama ever since.”

Listening to Seltzer, Kruger watched the sheriff. No wonder he liked the man so well. “It will be interesting to see how he and Dollar get along. My money’s on the sheriff.”

“Mine too. Keep me up to date, Sean, the director’s personally involved.”

Kruger ended the call and watched a helicopter circling the area, probably media. There was already a lot of activity along the farm road near the driveway leading to the property. The sheriff had the foresight to instruct several of his deputies to block the entrance with squad cars and maintain crowd control. CNN and Fox News already had news vans setting up, and he suspected others would follow. The circus was just starting.

He was about to head back to the barn when Lamb walked up and said, “Just got a report, a convoy of military Humvees are about a mile out. Deputy told them how to bypass the commotion at the end of the driveway and come directly to the barn. I suggest we meet them and present our little gift.”

Kruger nodded. “Just heard you’re ex-FBI. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Lamb shrugged. “Didn’t seem important at the time.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Same reason you’ll leave one day. Got tired of the BS.”

Kruger smiled and said, “Yeah, you’re probably right. It does get deep at times.”

Thirty minutes after the military took charge of the C4, an FBI forensics team from Montgomery arrived and took charge of the destroyed house. They set up a perimeter and started searching. Kruger knew the lead investigator, Charlie Craft. A few years back on a serial killer investigation, Charlie had been a rookie. Kruger worked with him and explained what an investigator needed. The young man had taken the advice and built on it. Now he was in charge of a medium size forensics department.

Kruger watched Charlie get his team started. After several minutes, Charlie noticed Kruger watching. He smiled, waved, and hurried over to where Kruger stood on the outside of the crime scene perimeter.

They shook hands and Kruger said, “How’ve you been, Charlie?”

“Couldn't be better, Agent Kruger.”

“Charlie—you know my rules.”

Charlie looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Sean, I forgot. I've been dealing with too many self-important agents lately.”

Kruger laughed. “I can only imagine. Speaking of self-important agents, Mint Dollar will be here shortly. He's now the SAC in Kansas City and will be taking over when he gets here.”

Charlie's happy-to-see-you demeanor changed immediately. “Ahhh, shit, are you kidding me?”

“Wish I was. He was promoted just before this case broke. Unfortunately he still can't find his ass with both hands behind his back.”

Charlie chuckled. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

Charlie was one of the techs involved with the case in Utah and witnessed Dollar's lack of ability. Kruger said, “I hate to ask you this, but I need a favor.”

“Sure, Sean. What is it?”

“I think this guy was the tip of the spear, just a soldier in a much bigger operation. No one guy has the ability to steal as much C4 as we found in his barn. If there was a computer or a laptop in the house, I need the hard drive. It might lead us to others involved.”

Charlie looked at Kruger, then back at what remained of the house. “You want JR to look at it, don't you?”

Kruger nodded. “We both know if there's something on a hard drive, he can find it and a lot faster than anybody at the Bureau.”

Charlie looked again at the search area and thought for a moment. “Okay, if we find it, I'll log it in, then slip it to you someway. But I have to have it back.”

Smiling, Kruger put his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You may have just saved a lot of lives.”

As Charlie walked back to the search area, Kruger glanced at his watch. It was getting late. Mildly surprised Dollar hadn’t arrived yet, he felt it was probably a good time to call Stephanie and let her know he was alright.

She answered after the first ring, “Sean, are you okay?” Her voice was noticeably stressed.

“Yes, Stef, I'm fine. It’s a little chaotic right now, but at least we have a starting point for the investigation. Guess you've been watching the news?”

“Yes, I have, and so has Brian.” Her voice an octave higher than normal. “He’s called several times asking if I had heard from you.”

This was the first time anybody had expressed a concern about his safety while he conducted an investigation. However, it was also the first time he had ever been involved with an exploding house.

“Call him back and tell him I'm fine. I can't right now. I’ll be heading back tonight. I have to make one quick stop, then I’ll be home.”

There was a long silence on the call. Finally he heard, “Okay, just make sure you’re careful. I didn't get married just to become a widow.”

Kruger suddenly realized he was acting different himself. In the past, he never thought about how quickly he could get home. He worked his investigation and it took however long it took. Today he was plotting the fastest way to get home. His decision to retire was the right one. He said, “I'll be careful, I promise.” No more running through a firefight and dodging bullets, he thought. Damn, what was he thinking?

He noticed Charlie walking back toward him, and when he arrived, Kruger said, “Did you find anything?”

Charlie offered his hand. Kruger shook it as Charlie passed him a small flat object. Very quietly, he said, “I found it a few minutes ago. It's a solid state drive. They’re extremely sturdy. I haven't logged it in yet, so get it back to me as quickly as possible. Okay?”

Kruger nodded. “Thanks, Charlie, I will.”

As Charlie walked away, Sheriff Lamb came up next to Kruger and pointed toward the growing crowd of media vans at the end of the driveway. “I just received a radio call, three black Suburbans have arrived. Would that be your Agent Dollar?”

Kruger chuckled and nodded, “More than likely.” He paused for a few moments and said, almost to himself, “Where the hell can you rent black Suburbans in Pensacola?”

Lamb shrugged, “Not sure, but it does seem pretentious.”

Kruger nodded, “That’s Dollar. By the way, since he's here, I need to follow up on a new lead. Can one of your deputies take me to my Jeep?”

“Yeah, how soon do you want to leave? I need to get a couple of these guys off overtime.”

“As soon as someone can take me.”

The Suburbans slowly worked their way through the swarm of media. Kruger could hear the commotion of questions being yelled all the way from where he stood next to the storage buildings. Once through the crowd, the three vehicles quickly drove down the long drive and parked just outside the tree line. The doors opened in unison, making Kruger suspect Dollar was on his radio saying, ready, set, exit. After he was out of the passenger side of the lead Suburban, Dollar surveyed the scene, buttoned his suit coat, straightened his tie and headed straight toward a deputy guarding the perimeter of the search area. The deputy pointed at Lamb, who was already walking toward Dollar.

Kruger smiled and followed. He wanted to hear this exchange.

Dollar offered his hand, which Lamb shook. Dollar said, “Are you Sheriff Gordon Lamb?”

Lamb nodded and said nothing.

“I'm Special Agent Franklin Dollar. I am now in charge of this crime scene. Thank you for your assistance, Sheriff. Now if you will have your men vacate the area, I will conduct the investigation from here.”

Lamb stared at Dollar and in a thick Alabama drawl said, “Well, Agent Dollar, the good Governor of this fine state has told me different. You go ahead and conduct your little investigation, but my men will stay right where they are until I'm told different by him.”

Dollar, unprepared for this type of response, said nothing. He simply turned, walked back to the Suburbans and started giving orders to the other agents. Kruger walked up next to Lamb and said, “First time I've ever seen him speechless. Well done, Sheriff.”

Lamb looked at Kruger and with a slight grin said, “Guess I'd better call the Governor and tell him what I just said.”

Kruger struggled not to laugh. “I’ll have to remember that line.”

Lamb delivered on his promise of a ride. Fifteen minutes later a deputy asked Kruger if he was ready to go back to the sheriff's office. Thanking the deputy, he told him he'd be right back. He found Lamb. “Thanks for the ride.” He offered his hand to the sheriff and continued, “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Sheriff.”

Lamb gave Kruger a wide grin and shook his hand. “Pleasure was all mine. I do believe I'm going to enjoy messing with that Dollar fella’s head.”

Kruger walked back to the deputy's squad car, opened the door and was about to get in when Dollar yelled at him to wait a minute. Tempted to ignore him, Kruger decided to wait. When Dollar got to the car he said, “Where are you going? I need a full report from you about this crime scene.”

Kruger smiled, looked at Dollar with disdain, and said, “If I remember correctly, I report to Alan Seltzer, not you. After I file my report and he reads it, you can request a copy.”

Dollar’s eyes grew wide and his face reddened as Kruger got into the squad car and closed the door.

On the way back to his Jeep, Kruger called the agency's Travel Department, and was told the only flights back to Kansas City were in the morning. He wouldn't be back until almost noon and then have a three-hour drive to Springfield. Too much wasted time. He had to get the cell phone and disk drive to JR as quickly as possible.

The deputy driving said, “There’s a charter service at the Brewton airport. Would that help?”

Kruger said, “It might. Is anyone there now?”

The deputy glanced at his dashboard clock, shook his head and said, “No, it will be morning before the airport opens again. Sorry.”

They drove in silence for a long time. Finally, a slight smile appeared on Kruger’s face. When they arrived at the sheriff’s office, Kruger thanked the deputy, got into the Jeep, and activated his GPS unit. It estimated his arrival time at JR’s would be just in time for scrambled eggs and coffee. He started the Jeep and began the long drive to Springfield.