The Escape (18 page)

T
HE NEXT MORNING
they descended into an overcast D.C. and landed a few minutes early. Before they’d left Puller had taken AWOL to Fort Leavenworth and left the cat in the care of a vet who maintained a kennel there. Puller had arranged for an Army car to be waiting for him at the airport in D.C. They loaded their bags into it and drove off from the airport.

“Two witnesses,” Puller said.

“Two witnesses,” Knox repeated.

“You got anything?” he asked.

“I checked into the INSCOM database on the drive to the airport. Susan Reynolds has worked at Fort Belvoir for about four months. At the time your brother was arrested she worked at STRATCOM in Kansas City.”

“Where she worked with my brother, or at least knew him by sight,” commented Puller.

Knox pulled a notebook from her bag and flipped through the pages. “Shireen Kirk said that Reynolds testified that your brother copied something from a computer onto a DVD.”

“I guess that’s a no-no at STRATCOM.”

“It’s a no-no in most secure facilities. But Reynolds said she saw your brother do it, and then he pocketed the DVD and left the facility with it.”

“I wonder if they ever determined what files he accessed and downloaded? Or
allegedly
did?” added Puller.

“I suppose they would have had to check that if they introduced it into evidence against him at the court-martial.”

“And I wonder what happened to the DVD? If it ever existed?”

“It really would be helpful to get a transcript of the court-martial proceedings,” said Knox.

“Shireen said it would take a court order. And it would have to trump national security, which was the reason the file was sealed in the first place.”

“Well, your brother has escaped from prison. So if we accept the prevailing argument that he is in fact guilty, then his being on the loose with all the secrets he has in his head constitutes a national security problem. We could argue that if we are going to help catch him, we need to know about the crimes he was convicted of. In detail. For instance, this Iranian agent that he allegedly met with. If we can get a lead on him, it might bring us to your brother.”

“He’s not guilty, Knox!”

“I understand that. But the point is we need a way to get the files, Puller. And if we have to play the national security angle, well, hell, let’s play it.”

Puller flashed her an admiring look. “That’s pretty clever, actually. How can they argue against that, right? They need to give us whatever they have, to allow us to apprehend him before he hurts this country.”

“Maybe Kirk can file a motion?”

“No, that would take too long. We need a shortcut.”

“How?”

Puller pulled out his phone. The man answered on the second ring. James Schindler from the National Security Council said, “Hello?”

“Mr. Schindler, John Puller. I need your help, sir. And I really need it right now.”

P
ULLER AND KNOX
were parked outside of Susan Reynolds’s home in Springfield, Virginia.

Knox checked her watch. “She got off work about thirty-five minutes ago. She might’ve stopped along the way. Fort Belvoir isn’t that far from here.”

Pulled nodded but said nothing, keeping his gaze swiveling between Reynolds’s two-story home in a newer, very upscale neighborhood of Springfield and the entrance to the subdivision.

“What’s her position at Fort Belvoir?” Puller asked.

“She works in the Center for Combating Weapons of Mass Destruction.”

“Don’t they work closely with DTRA?” said Puller, referring to the Defense Threat Reduction Agency.

“There’s a partnership there, yes,” replied Knox. “In fact the center is located at DTRA’s headquarters and a lot of DTRA’S mission supports the center’s work.”

“And their mission is to wipe out WMDs?”

“At least the bad guys’ WMDs.”

“Anything jump out in her personnel file?” he asked.

“No. She joined another STRATCOM component at Bolling Air Force Base about the time of your brother’s court-martial. And from there she went to the center. But there must be something if she lied about your brother’s actions.”

“Well, we’re about to find out because there she is.”

A late-model Lexus four-door pulled into the driveway of Reynolds’s house. A tall, fit, good-looking woman in her early fifties with a thick mane of bleached-blonde hair climbed out of the sedan carrying a briefcase and a plastic bag full of groceries.

Puller knew from her file that she had two grown children who no longer lived with her.

She walked up to the front steps, and by the time she got there Puller and Knox had caught up to her.

“What is this about?” she asked when they flashed their creds.

“Robert Puller,” Puller said bluntly and then watched Reynolds closely for any type of reaction. However, she simply stared up at him. In her younger days she must’ve been truly a beauty, thought Puller. She still had head-turning looks and her tall, lean figure was impressive. The woman clearly stayed in shape.

“I heard that he had escaped from the DB. Are you worried that he might come after me because I testified against him?”

Puller gave her another appraising look and his opinion of the woman changed. She was not going to simply crack and confess. She must have anticipated someone might show up on her doorstep after his brother had gotten out of the DB. And she was prepared.

“Can we go inside and discuss this?” said Puller.

“All right.” Reynolds glanced at Knox. “INSCOM? So you’re at Fort Belvoir too.”

“Yes, but I don’t work from there. And I hardly have any engagement with the center or DTRA.”

Reynolds nodded. “Well, it’s not like I would ever see you anyway. The place is massive.”

She unlocked the front door. The house was alarmed and she blocked their view of the control panel while she keyed in the disarming code.

“I need to put the groceries away in the fridge. Can you give me a couple minutes?”

“I can do better than that,” said Puller. “I can help you while my partner goes over her notes.” He inclined his head at Knox and then nodded toward the living room.

She took up a seat there and hauled out her notepad while Puller followed Reynolds down a short hallway to the large kitchen.

“CID?” she said. “I suppose you’re investigating the escape. But Puller was Air Force.”

“DB is an Army prison.”

“I saw you had the same last name.”

“Lots of Pullers around,” said Puller, quite truthfully.

He slowly emptied the bag of groceries and handed them to her one by one, taking his time.

“So, you like the work at the center?” he asked.

“It’s challenging. And what goal could be more important? Getting WMDs out of the hands of terrorists.”

“Or stop them from getting WMDs in the first place.”

“Even better.”

“So how well did you know Robert Puller?”

“Not well. I mean we worked together at the facility in Kansas City when that was open. They’ve consolidated everything back at Offutt now.”

“What did you think of him?”

“He was incredibly smart and diligent. Everyone knew he was going to end up running the place some day. Made it all the more unbelievable that he did what he did.”

“Gambling debts online.”

Reynolds put the last of the groceries away and closed the fridge door. “That’s what came out in the trial. I guess if you get addicted to something it can end up ruining you. It did him. All very sad. He was a tough one to replace.”

“You testified that you saw him copy something onto a DVD.”

“That’s right, I did.”

“Which is prohibited at STRATCOM?”

“Absolutely.”

“How did they check for that?”

“Well, they make it hard to do things like that. Like at DTRA, our computers were deactivated for flash drive usage, so you can’t steal data that way. But you can use a DVD, as Robert did. They had to allow that for us to do our jobs. The best security is to vet your employees and make sure they’re not working for the other side, because you can’t totally eliminate the risk of someone stealing sensitive data. Look at Snowden. There are random searches and they have scanners, but if you’re badged you don’t run through the scanners. I suspect they have other security measures they don’t share with us, just in case we do have a traitor in the ranks.”

“So he probably knew that as well and couldn’t take the chance of just slipping a DVD into his pocket and hoping he gets out. How did he get the device out the day you saw him?”

“He pulled the fire alarm. The facility was evacuated. As you can imagine, there wasn’t an opportunity to search people. And I would suppose that any stealth measures they had in place were trumped by the possibility of a fire.”

“But you reported what you saw?”

“Immediately. By the time security arrived the fire alarm had been pulled. They caught up to him outside. They found the DVD in his pocket.”

“Was he placed under arrest then?”

“Yes. Then he was released on his personal recognizance. But then it was reported that he had previously been spotted meeting with someone who turned out to be a spy for the Iranian government. It was then that Puller was put in the stockade until his court-martial began.”

“What was the time lapse there?”

“I’m not sure. Not that long. Maybe a week.”

“Surprising they didn’t jail him for good after they found the DVD in his pocket.”

“I thought so too. But maybe he talked them into it. He could be very convincing.”

“But you said you didn’t know him that well.”

“I didn’t. But I heard him make numerous presentations at STRATCOM. He was articulate, a powerful speaker, and had a comeback for everything they threw at him. Probably because he was smarter than everyone else in the room.”

Puller had been jotting notes down. He clicked his pen a couple of times while he thought about her last statement. Did he detect a note of jealousy there?

“You haven’t noticed anything unusual around here?” he asked.

“Do you mean have I seen Robert Puller lurking in my backyard? No, I haven’t. I doubt I’m important enough for that. It was incredible that he broke out of DB. I would think he would already be out of the country.”

“Pretty dicey for him to meet with an Iranian spy.”

“Maybe we should rejoin your partner. She’s probably wondering what happened to us.”

Puller led the way down the hall. Knox was sitting in the same chair by the stone fireplace. She glanced at Puller, her features inscrutable.

“Really nice place,” she said to Reynolds. “I love the openness and the decoration.”

“Thanks. It’s a nice neighborhood. Lots of interesting people from all walks of life.”

Knox pointed at an array of photos sitting on a console table. “Is that you?”

Reynolds nodded and smiled. “That was taken when I made the Olympic team in the biathlon.”

“Skiing and shooting?” said Puller.

“That’s right.”

“How’d you do?”

The smile turned to a frown. “I didn’t end up competing. Medical condition.”

“That must have been disappointing,” said Knox.

“What’s a life without disappointment? Makes you stronger.”

Knox pointed to another photo. “Your kids?”

Reynolds nodded. “My son’s a lawyer and my daughter runs a clothing store.”

“You must have had them young?” noted Puller.

“Adam and I met in college and married in our sophomore year.”

“I don’t see a picture of him here,” said Knox.

“He was killed in a hit-and-run nearly twenty years ago,” Reynolds said bluntly. “It’s too painful for me to even see his face.”

“Did they ever catch the person who did it?” asked Puller.

Reynolds shook her head. “I was out of the country at the time on assignment. Adam was an FBI agent, and a damn good one. He was working a case in D.C. having to do with a drug cartel. I think those devils were behind it, but the Bureau thought it was simply an accident.”

“Did you have proof otherwise?” asked Knox.

Reynolds said, “It was a long time ago, so what does it matter? Nothing will bring him back.”

“I’m sorry,” said Knox. She then pointed to one more photograph. It was a much older one, in black and white. “Is that you?”

Puller looked at it. It was of an older man in a magician’s outfit, complete with top hat and tails. He was holding a wand in one hand and a long cloth in the other. Next to him was a tall, slender teenage girl.

Reynolds nodded. “My father was a professional magician. I was his assistant. He was really good. Taught me a lot. Great guy. I miss him. Cancer took him ten years ago.” She added brusquely, “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

Puller glanced at Knox and said, “She answered my questions while we were putting away groceries. So I think that’s it.” He turned back to Reynolds. “Obviously, if you notice anything suspicious, please give us a call.” He handed her one of his cards.

She looked at the card and then glanced up at Puller. “Just so you know, I can take care of myself. If I had competed in the Olympics I was a lock for a bronze and with a bit of luck the gold was not out of reach. I have lots of guns and I know how to use them. In fact, I would go down to the FBI’s shooting range with Adam and take on all comers. I never lost. And at my age, I’ve never needed glasses of any kind. The doctors say it’s remarkable. I say it’s just good fortune. So if someone breaks into my home, I doubt they’ll be walking out of here. I always stand my ground. And I don’t miss.”

Puller gave her a long stare and then nodded. “I’m sure. Have a good day.”

He and Knox left and climbed into their car. But Puller didn’t start it up. He sat there staring up at the house.

“You find anything while I had her in the kitchen?”

“A forty-five Smith and Wesson hidden in the bookcase. The windows are alarmed too. She has motion detectors all over the place. And there’s a large floor safe in her bedroom, which is the first door on the right off the main hall. It’s locked, but I’m guessing she keeps her long guns and other pistols in there. And maybe all her
cool
shooting trophies.”

“You covered a lot of ground in a short time.”

“I do my best.”

“Anything else?”

“No smoking gun, no pun intended.”

“Maybe we’re looking at it,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“She came from KC,” he said. “Went to Bolling in Anacostia.”

“Right.”

“Sticker shock. Cost of living in Kansas is a lot lower than here. How much you figure that house cost?”

Knox studied the place and then looked at the homes around it.

“Million-plus.”

“That’s what I was thinking. And a late-model top-of-the-line Lexus sedan probably set her back about seventy thousand or more.”

“And she has two kids and a husband who was killed when they were still young. So that meant she was the sole breadwinner.”

“You saw her file. What was she making, say, twenty years ago?”

“About thirty thousand a year,” replied Knox.

“And college and law school aren’t cheap. Even if they took out loans. She probably had to foot part of the bill somehow.”

“But if she was paid off because of your brother, that was only a little over two years ago.”

“Right, but I wonder how much of her debt is still out there? Maybe none?”

“And now she lives in a million-dollar home and drives a luxury car.”

“What’s her salary now?”

“I figure a little over a hundred thousand a year plus benefits.”

“Just doesn’t add up.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“But I assume the government checks up on these things.”

“Maybe not. Look at the CIA and Aldrich Ames. Big house, luxury cars, none of which he could afford on his salary.” She paused. “Maybe she inherited.”

“You saw how she practically threatened us at the end there? She has guns and she knows how to use them? You walk in but you won’t walk out? I think she knew that you were searching the place while we were in the kitchen. And she was smooth, way too smooth for a visit like ours. It was like she was expecting us.”

“I swear I didn’t tell anyone, Puller.”

“I know. So if she’s been warned, then so has the other witness.”

“You still want to go see him?”

“Hell yes. He might not be as prepared as Reynolds was.”

Puller’s phone dinged not once but twice. He checked the emails.

“Anything useful?” asked Knox.

“Maybe the Holy Grail.”

“What is it?”

“The court-martial transcript. Schindler seems to really have a lot of juice. And that’s not all.”

“What else?”

“The ME at Leavenworth. He got back the toxicology results on our dead guy.”

“And?”

“And he’s Ukrainian. Or at least he was there recently.”

“I didn’t think they’d done isotope mapping over there.”

“He said we lucked out.”

“How?”

“The guy was from Chernobyl. Apparently because of the nuclear disaster they had there all those years ago, the toxicology signature is absolutely unique due to the water and air contamination.”