The Escape (27 page)

P
ULLER DROPPED KNOX
off at her hotel before heading back to Quantico. He stopped to get some gas near the base. Another vehicle swung into the fuel bay next to his. Someone got out to pump fuel.

Puller had put the nozzle in and was leaning against the hood of his car when the voice said, “Don’t react, Junior. Somebody might be watching.”

Maybe because he was hoping that something like this might eventually happen, Puller didn’t even flinch. He pulled his phone out and pretended to be checking messages, with not a care in the world. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pickup truck parked in the fuel bay next to his. A tall man, nearly as tall as he was, stood next to it, pumping gas. Under the light of the overheads Puller snatched a glimpse of the man he knew was his brother. Yet if the man hadn’t called him Junior he might not have recognized Bobby. There were only three people in the world who had ever called him that: his father, his mother, and his brother.

Bald, tatted arms, goatee, totally different nose and ears. There was a rifle rack in the back window and a “Don’t Tread On Me” sticker on the side of the cab.

“You’ve changed a little bit,” mumbled Puller.

“Just on the outside. Same nerd on the inside.”

Robert opened his wallet and drew out a credit card and swiped it through. He hit the necessary keys and then put the gas nozzle into his tank outlet.

“We have a lot to talk about,” said Puller.

“Yes we do, little brother.”

“I’ve found out a lot.”

“So have I.”

“You were set up.”

“Yep.”

“We’ve gotta make it right.”

“I plan to,” said Robert.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Can’t go to your place. Too obvious.”

Puller pretended to make a call and held the phone up to his ear and said, “I can lose any possible tail and then meet you.”

“I was going to suggest that.”

“You staying somewhere close?”

“I will be. Passed it a couple miles back. The Holiday Inn. You know it?”

“I know it.”

“I’ll park my ride in front of my room. Truck’s hard to miss. Kansas plates.”

“Right.”

“Please make damn sure you’re not followed, bro. That would not be in either of our best interests.”

“They’ll never be able to, Bobby.”

“I know, Junior. I know.”

John Puller finished fueling and drove away. A couple minutes later Robert Puller drove off in the opposite direction.

John Puller reached his apartment complex but kept driving until he got to Quantico. He passed the security checkpoint and headed over to the CID building. He walked down the hallway to an office he shared with other agents. It was empty and he spent about twenty minutes doodling on a piece of paper and also trying to get his nerves settled after just running into his fugitive brother at a gas station.

Despite being on the run, his brother had sounded cool and calm. And Puller had let him dictate the plan going forward, when that was not his natural inclination. Yet between the two boys Robert had always been the leader. Even if he hadn’t been older, Puller thought that would have been the case. Robert just had that way about him.

Puller waited another twenty minutes. During that time he changed out of his dress blues and into a set of fatigues he kept in the locker room. He left the building through a rear entrance and walked over to the motor pool. He checked out a four-door sedan and drove out another gate. He drove for twenty miles through rural roads, turning left and right, backtracking, stopping, going fast, then slow, and making it impossible for anyone to have followed him. He then parked a half mile away from the Holiday Inn and hoofed it the rest of the way through both woods and residential areas.

The truck with the Kansas plates was parked in front of room 103. Puller checked the bed and cab of the truck as he passed by it. He knocked on the motel room door and it opened a few seconds later after he had observed the curtain on the window adjacent to the door slide to the side just a bit as someone peered out.

Puller didn’t go in immediately. He put a hand on the butt of his holstered M11. “Bobby?” he said softly.

“Coast is clear, Junior.”

Puller walked in and closed and locked the door behind him.

There was only one light on in the small room, a table lamp next to the bed. His brother sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Through another door Puller could see the bathroom. A duffel bag was lying on the bed.

Puller sat on the edge of the bed and eyed his brother.

“Any problems getting here?” Robert asked.

“I took my time and if anyone was able to follow me then they deserve to win.”

Robert Puller rose and held out his arms. “It’s damn good to see you, John.”

Puller rose too and the two men exchanged a prolonged hug accompanied by back slaps. When they drew apart, Puller could see the moistness in his brother’s eyes and he could feel his own eyes begin to water. It was the most unusual feeling seeing his brother not a prisoner. It felt great. And it also felt fleeting and temporary. And that frightened Puller more than anything had in a long time.

Robert sat back down and Puller retook his seat on the bed. Neither man spoke for a long moment.

“How did you manage to find me?” asked Puller.

“I wasn’t following you, at least initially. I was following someone else and picked up your trail at the Army-Navy Club.”

“Who was the someone else?”

“Donovan Carter. I tracked him from Fort Belvoir. Surprised the hell out of me when you showed up.”

“Why were you following Carter?”

“I’m trying to do what I’m sure you’re trying to do: Solve a problem.”

“Of who set you up and why?”

Robert nodded. “Susan Reynolds was in on it.”

“We talked to her. She told Carter that you were at her house and threatened her. Injected her with poison.”

Robert held up his phone and pushed a button. Puller listened to the exchange between his brother and Reynolds that he’d recorded.

“It proves nothing, of course. She could just say she said it so I wouldn’t kill her. And it wasn’t poison. I just let her imagination take over and then knocked her out with a sedative.”

“Russians?” said Puller.

“A red herring, at least I think it is. You heard about Niles Robinson?”

“It was his kid that was the motivation, right?”

“Yes. He was talking to me on the phone at Union Station when someone gunned him down.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Did you? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. I recorded that conversation too. The salient point was he said someone might have a problem with me getting the slot at ISR.”

“Who?”

“He never got a chance to tell me.”

“Daughtrey took your slot at ISR. Then he went to Cyber Command.”

“And now he’s dead.”

“He was found in my motel room back in Kansas.”

“I saw you there with a woman. Didn’t know he was found in your room.”

“The woman is Agent Veronica Knox, INSCOM. Know her?”

“No.” He paused, eyeing his brother steadily. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me.”

“And some answers. DB? A Ukrainian was sent in to kill you after they orchestrated knocking out the power. A Captain Macri was in on it. Knox ended up killing her in a shootout.”

Robert fiddled with a pen he was holding. “When the guy came into my cell, I was already suspicious. I knew before I ever went there that DB had backup power that was infallible. But it
had
failed. I also knew that when the power went out the cell doors automatically locked. That didn’t happen. They opened. That meant someone had screwed with the software. Now I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on or that I was the target. But I decided to stay in my cell and see how it played out. When I heard someone at my cell door I called out that I was on the floor with my hands behind my head. When the guy came through the door he had a knife, when standard operating procedure is a gun in a situation like that. And you would never have only one guy clearing a room. You’d have at least two. This guy was clearly a rogue.”

“And by using a knife he can kill you silently, whereas a shot would bring a bunch of other MPs.”

Robert nodded. “And a knifing could be attributed to another prisoner who had fashioned a shiv and might have had a grudge against me. That would probably be the explanation when they found my body. No one would suspect one of the MPs.”

“And I’m sure they were counting on that. But you turned the tables on them.”

“I wasn’t on the floor with my hands behind my head. I was behind the door. I disarmed him. When he started yelling at me in what I recognized was Ukrainian I knew he was trying to kill me. So I killed him instead.”

“Snap-crackle-pop? At least that’s what occurred to me from the ME’s description.”

“Came in handy, bro. For that I thank you.”

“Then you put on his gear and left that way.”

“Lucky for me he was about my size.”

“So you went back on the truck to Leavenworth and then got away. But how did you change your appearance so drastically?”

Robert smiled and touched his nose. “After I moved to Kansas I rented a storage unit under a fictitious name. Set up credit card and bank accounts under that name and outfitted the storage unit with things I would need to change my appearance and also some other items.”

“Why? You couldn’t have been expecting to be arrested and then escaping from DB?”

“Didn’t figure in the equation at all. But while I was at STRATCOM I would disguise myself and go out undercover to military watering holes around the base.”

“But why?”

“When I got to the satellite facility I learned that people stationed there weren’t being as tight-lipped as they should be. Classified info was getting bandied about in places it never should have been. I was instrumental in busting up a ring of people that were preying on drunk soldiers and personnel from STRATCOM to get information to sell, or blackmail them with.”

“And no one knew about your alter ego?”

“That would have defeated the point. But it came in extraordinarily handy when I got away from DB. I could change my appearance, gun up, have equipment, cash, and a credit card, and be on my way.”

“So what have you been doing since you escaped?”

“Trying to work out who set me up.” He paused and stared pointedly at his brother. “Look, I’m stunned they allowed you anywhere near this case.”

“Three-star named Aaron Rinehart and a guy from the NSC, James Schindler, came to me, along with Daughtrey. They set it up.”

“I’ve met Rinehart. I know of Schindler. Never crossed paths with Daughtrey. But still, what’s their angle?”

“I don’t know. A JAG friend told me she didn’t see any positives for me in the scenario.”

“I’d call that good advice.”

“You were following Carter, so you suspected him?”

“Reynolds works at the WMD Center, which he runs. Daughtrey worked with him at ISR. I’m not sure if he was the ‘person’ Robinson was mentioning, but it seemed a good place to start. I haven’t found many leads on this sucker, so I intend to follow up all of them until I hit the right one.”

“Is it all about money? I think it is for Reynolds.”

“She has a Joan Miró in her mini-mansion,” said Robert.

“So my colleague Knox pointed out.”

“That painting is worth at least a few million dollars. That’s reason enough for STRATCOM to do surprise searches of every sensitive personnel’s home. Sometimes we can’t see the forest for the trees. But I don’t think it’s all about money for all of them.”

“What, then? If they’re traitors then they’re selling stuff.”

“Maybe, but I think there’s more to it than just cash.”

Puller mulled this over. “By the way, I think I figured out how Reynolds got that DVD in your pocket.”

“How?”

“Her father was a magician. She assisted him. I’m sure she’s quite adept at sleight of hand.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Brother looked at brother.

“So what now?” asked Puller.

“Tell me what else you’ve learned,” said Robert. “I’m sure it’s a lot.”

Puller did so, keeping nothing back. He could see that his brother’s mind was going a mile a minute, taking it all in and then neatly cataloging each piece.

Finished, he said, “What about you?”

Robert took a few minutes to fill in his brother.

“So you think there’s a conspiracy going on?” asked Puller.

“I do. It can’t be simply one person.”

“I told you about those men kidnapping me?”

“Yes.”

Puller studied his brother for a long moment. “Was it you? Did you fire the shots?”

Robert slowly nodded. “I was glad I could be there for you, John. Knowing you, you probably would’ve made it out okay on your own, but, well, I was glad I was there to help. I haven’t been able to do that much with you over the last two years.”

“No bones about it, Bobby, you saved my life. But you could have made contact with me then.”

Robert looked guiltily at him. “I thought about it, trust me. But it would have put you in an untenable situation. You’d be duty-bound to arrest me.”

“But you made contact now. Why?”

Robert sighed. “Because I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance. I know how many people are out looking for me. Highly trained people good at their job. I…I just wanted you to hear things from my side. I wanted you to know that…”

“I never believed you were guilty of anything.”

His brother smiled weakly. “Sure you did. Or at least you weren’t certain.”

“I found out about the threatening letter you got in your cell.”

Robert’s smile faded. “Who told you that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You took a dive to protect Dad and me. Your career, years of your life, everything, Bobby.”

“The fact is I was too arrogant. I never thought I’d be convicted because I wasn’t guilty. Talk about naïve.”

“You still took a dive.”

“I couldn’t let anything happen to my family,” he said quietly. “You two were all I had left.”