At Wit's End (22 page)

“Well, what have we here?” Marcus froze at Henry’s voice. He turned slowly in his chair and was stunned to see Witson face to face for the first time. He was being held at gun point along with the pretty girl they’d had Marcus spying on for the past week.

“Henry, I’m just backing up the files,” Marcus began.

“Oh, no you weren’t. We talked about this, didn’t we? When I told you about what they do to thieves who work in diamond mines, remember? I explained how they let them keep their hands so they can still mine. No, what they do is, they cut off a foot. Then the negroes can’t run off with what they find. I don’t have time to look for a saw.”

Henry turned and shot Marcus in the leg.

Someone was screaming, loudly. How they could do that Marie did not know as there wasn’t a bit of oxygen in this room. That didn’t matter. She’d never breathe again if that’s what it took to keep that psychopath from turning that gun on her.

Diamond mines? Henry was some kind of special jerk. She knew that because he was now screaming at the man he’d just shot to shut up. How did that make sense? He’d been shot. It seemed like overkill when he cocked the gun and set it directly on the ailing man’s forehead but it worked.
At least she knew who had been screaming now.

“Witson, I want you to help him, please. He may need a tourniquet and it looks like you’re wearing a belt.” Henry stepped back from Marcus. He kept his eyes on Wit as he moved.

Wit squeezed Marie’s hand and knelt at Triple H’s side. He removed a knife from his pocket –Seriously, would they never learn to search him? – to cut the pant leg. “What did you get involved in this time, you idiot?” Wit hissed through his teeth at Marcus.

“It’s barely bleeding,” Wit told Henry. “You barely nicked him. He’ll be fine.” Wit wadded up the fabric he’d cut from the pants and used it to compress the wound. “You’ll live to weasel another day,” he told Marcus.

“You’re an asshole, Zero. Always have been,” Marcus complained.

“You had your chance to do the right thing. Every time I’ve bumped into you it’s because you made stupid choices.” Wit pressed the cloth harder than he needed. He didn’t flinch at the other man’s gasp of pain. He deserved that and more.

Wit had a direct line of sight to the computer screen. He saw what Marcus had been doing. “Is this all about money?” he asked, incredulous.

Henry jerked his gun. “Back over by your girlfriend. Now.” Wit complied. “Of course it’s about money but it’s so much more than that.”

Wit held his arms out. “So educate me. It’s never too late to learn something new.”

“It might be for you. You’re like an online bloodhound. If I leave you alive you’ll never stop hunting for me. You have motive and have definitely caught my scent. No, I’m afraid it is too late for you.” Henry checked the computer screen. He nudged Marcus on the floor with his toe. “How far did you get?”

Wit shook his head. “None of this makes sense to me. What were you doing with Ingerhoffe if all you wanted was money? There are far easier ways to get it. Marcus knows that. If you know how to erase your digital footprints you can do damn near anything online.”

“And you know how to erase those footprints, don’t you?” Henry glared at Wit. “Someone has been dipping into our accounts. That maggot said it was you. Was he telling the truth?”

Wit considered the lie, chose the truth. “Yes. I took some here and there and donated it to the 9/11 Widows fund in the name of the Brotherhood. It was the least I, and your group, could do.”

“Jesus,” Henry shook his head. “I thought my friends were spamming me when I started getting those emails.” He laughed.

Wit was blocking most of Marie’s body from Henry’s line of sight. She took advantage of that and reached slowly into her right front pocket. She had nearly forgotten about putting the little grey remote there after she’d used it before.

She held it in her palm and rubbed her thumb lightly over the button. She didn’t know if it could be used more than once. She didn’t quite have the nerve so she waited. Maybe the Universe would give her a sign.

“You seem like a bright guy,” Wit said. He was stalling, for what he wasn’t sure. It would be a while before the FBI cleared the main house and began checking outbuildings. Plus, they had the bomb at the courthouse to worry about. They weren’t likely to get to this building until after daylight. Unless he could connect the Twins once more, he realized. “I’m trying to understand what you were doing with Ingerhoffe. The dude was crazy.”

Henry snorted, shook his head. “I had no idea he was that far around the bend. Look, he had
this thing about Arabs. They were essentially controlling the U.S. Government and, therefore, the U.N. and other things. He talked about how they were going to take our guns and then our freedom. People have been eating that crap up since 2001 because they
want
to. We began collecting people and with people there comes money. They have life savings they want to donate and property and all sorts of things. Marcus here helped us invest it and the Brotherhood is worth a pretty penny.”

Wit nodded agreeably. “It’s hard to argue with success. I’ve seen some of the balance sheets.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Henry bragged. “We’ve been doing this for a long time. We’ve learned a lot of new tricks – things you wouldn’t think of.”

“What’s with the map?” Wit had noticed the map of Washington D.C. when they’d first come into the room. The sight of it with pins scattered throughout caused his stomach to churn with nerves. That map could not possibly lead to anything good.

Henry looked over his shoulder. “That? That is a blueprint to the type of power you could never imagine.”

“If you’re going to shoot me in the leg for looking at the accounts you should cut out your own tongue for telling them everything,” Marcus whined from the floor.

Marie held her breath. She was sure Henry was about to shoot Marcus. She decided it was now or never. Her thumb hovered over the button.

Hirsch had been standing in the room in the North Wing he thought Wit and Marie may have been held in. He’d been trying to figure out what the fine black dust could be when the special cell phone rang once more.

After listening for a few moments he grabbed the five closest HRT agents and sprinted through the screen door. It took him a moment to get his bearings and then they were off, galloping across the yard and heading for the shed Wit had been paying special attention to. It was the only place Hirsch could think they’d be if they weren’t in the main house.

There were no windows and only two entrances. One door had a hole kicked next to it and Hirsch recognized it as Wit’s style. Swanson used bolt cutters on the lock and was prepared to go through that door. Hirsch and two other agents went around the building and crowded around that entrance. Hirsch could see light seeping underneath.

He nodded and Burleson popped the door. The three men burst through the frame with their guns drawn. Hirsch immediately put Henry in the priority category and started screaming, “DROP THE GUN! DROP THEGUN! DROPITDIROPITDROPIT NOW!”

At the crash of the other team entering the other side of the building there was a dull thud as Henry complied and raised his hands. “I surrender,” he said mildly and dropped to his knees.

In the chaos of securing the crime scene and the plethora of evidence Wit took Marie’s hand. “I think I owe you breakfast.”

“And a few conversations,” she smiled.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He twitched his eyebrow up and down. “I’ve got a car down yonder.”

“What about the bomb? And the other thing?” Marie asked. “Don’t you want to know how that turns out?”

Wit pointed to Hirsch who was directing the activity several yards away. “He’ll fill us in on anything we need to know. And that will probably be tomorrow whether we’re standing here or sitting on a patio and enjoying omelettes.”

Marie cocked her head. There was something wrong with his logic but she couldn’t pinpoint what that was exactly. “You know what? Screw it. Let’s go. I’m starving.”

They started down the path to Wit’s Lamborghini. “And a felon,” he whispered.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Marie said. “And my Law and Order: SVU watching experience tells me to plead the fifth.”

“There’s my girl,” Wit laughed.

Three days later Marie stood over Wit’s shoulder and watched him remove the tracker from the fob on her keychain. “Are you sure that’s the last one?”

“I swear.” Wit crossed his heart. “I won’t put anymore bugs on your things if you promise not to take off the one I gave you.”

Marie held up her
right hand and watched the glitter of the diamonds. “You have to be careful with those little boxes,” she told him. “Any other woman would have thought you were proposing.” The tiny chef’s hat made from diamond chips was adorable. “I love it and I’m never taking it off.”

“Good.” He pulled her into his lap. They were in his home office and he had a sudden urge to test the soundproofing. He began sliding his hand up her thigh.

A loud banging came from the front door. “Were you expecting someone?” Marie asked.

“No,” Wit answered,
“well, Hirsch maybe. I saw the article about the bomb at the Courthouse. I’m glad they were able to stop it.”

“I still want to know what they were doing with that map of Washington D.C.,” Marie commented.

A second round of banging started as Wit reached the door. “Relax! I’m opening it right now! Man, some people.” He opened the lock and the door burst open.

“You need to start answering your phone,” Hirsch growled.

“Which one?” Wit asked innocently.

“Whatever.” Hirsch wore the same
clothes he’d been wearing at the raid. The interrogations had taken a toll on him. They’d also been very informative. “Do you mind?” He reached for the bottle of whiskey.

“I’d say you deserve it,” Wit said. His friend drank straight from the crystal decanter. “Help yourself.”

“Let’s go sit down. I’m being rude. I’m sorry. Hello, Marie, you look lovely today,” Hirsch said as he took a seat in the living room. “Nice ring.”

“Hello, Hirsch, thank you. It’s nice to see you. Can we get you anything?” Marie straightened her ski
rt. It must have twisted when she’d been in his lap. Marie nearly blushed. Wit winked at her and she realized his dress shirt had been buttoned incorrectly. They were a mess.

The couple took a seat on the couch across from Hirsch. They waited while he took a heavy pull from the decanter once more. “I haven’t slept in a few days. This is my tranquilizer. I’ll be making use of your spare room very soon.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Wit told him, “and you could definitely use some sleep.”

“To keep it quick - The Brotherhood had been placing spies in households across DC. Like a sleeper cell. These spies were working as personal shoppers, nannies, gardeners and any nu
mber of things at the homes of Congressmen, Senators and even the Secretaries of State and Defense. When the cell was activated the Brotherhood would have had access to every single thing that crossed those desks. Their influence could have set the country’s Civil Rights movement back 20 years.”

“Oh my God,” Marie whispered.

Hirsch turned to her. “The damage they could have caused is impossible to estimate.”

“Gardeners?”

“That gives them access to the property. Blackmail opportunities, hostage taking, any number of things could have happened. And it was stopped thanks to the two of you.”

Marie shook her head. “That’s amazing.”

“I have other news.” Hirsch slapped his palms down on his knees. “In appreciation for your efforts in the FBI’s investigation,” both men snorted, “my boss has granted your identity immunity for this last case. You’re off his radar if you stop your interference in all matters of law and order.”

Hirsch removed an envelope from the front pocket of the black FBI windbreaker he wore. He laid it on the table in front of Wit. “This is from the CIA. It’s a consulting contract. If I were you, I would consider it.”

Wit shook his head. “I’ll wait for the NSA. They pay better.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know.” Hirsch gave a yawn and rose.
“I’m off to bed. If you don’t see me in fourteen hours… keep leaving me alone,” he instructed. With a wave of his hand he left the room.

“Well look at that,” Marie said. She picked up the envelope. “You received a job offer
. I’ll have to look for a new assistant.” She tapped it against her hand.

“I wouldn’t be so fast to do that if I were you.”

“You haven’t even opened it,” she protested.

“I don’t need to.” He took the offer from her and tossed it on the table. He nibbled at her lips. “I believe we have a long-standing conversation to finish?”

Marie cupped his face. She used her teeth to gently tug his lower lip. “This may be one of those conversations that never ends.”

Wit groaned. “Thank God.”