Last Man Standing (67 page)

“I’m not talking about O’Bannon.”

“Who, then?”

“First of all, let me ask you a question that’ll probably make you wanta take a swing at me, but I need a straight answer
if I’m going to be able to help you.”

“Ask it, Web.”

“Is there any possibility that O’Bannon was working with the Bureau to bug the offices so management would know what the foot
soldiers’ problems were?”

“That crossed my mind, actually. And the answer is no. Thing is, there are some real higher-ups who come here too, it’s not
just rank-and-filers. And I’m talking the kind of heavyweights—and their wives, by the way—who could bring down just about
everybody at the Bureau if that sort of crap was going on.”

“Okay, then let’s assume that O’Bannon orchestrated this whole intelligence-gathering scheme. Why? Not for kicks. For profit.
It always comes down to the bucks. He sells information to lots of different people and law enforcement operations everywhere
get blown as a result. And maybe somebody bought info from O’Bannon to execute the hit on Charlie. Like you said, he could
have gotten details from one of the wives he was seeing as a patient. Whoever’s behind
that,
I want them.”

“Well, I thought we
did
know. The Frees. We already nailed them.”

“Oh, you really think so?”

“Don’t you?”

“It seems to fit, almost too perfectly. Do we have any more information about what might have happened to Claire?”

“Yeah, and it’s not good. Less than half an hour after the lights went out in Claire’s office, O’Bannon arrived at the garage.
He used his keycard to get in and that gave us both his identity and the time of entry.”

Web nodded and his spirits fell even more. “She trips the alarm, O’Bannon probably had a remote unit at his house and got
the signal. He hightails it over here.”

“And finds Claire.” “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, Web.”

W
eb drove back to East Winds, as depressed as he’d ever been in his life. As bad as things looked for the Bureau right now,
he didn’t even care. All he cared about was finding Claire alive.

Romano was cleaning one of his pistols and looked over when Web came up the stairs of the carriage house. “Man, you look bummed.”

Web sat down across from him.

“I screwed up, Paulie.”

“Hell, it’s not the first time.” Romano smiled, but Web obviously wasn’t in the mood. Romano put down the gun and looked at
his friend. “So talk to me.”

“Claire Daniels.”

“Your shrink.”

“My
psychiatrist.
” He paused and then added, “And my friend. Some guys threatened her but then let her go. They’re connected with my case,
so she was put in danger because of me. She comes to me for help, and what do I do? I don’t help.”

“Did you offer her protection?”

“Yes, but she didn’t want to take it. She thought the threat wasn’t real; she made it sound very logical. Now it turns out
this O’Bannon guy she worked with was bugging all the psychiatrists’ offices and getting information from patients during
sessions. Lots of those patients were people who worked at the Bureau. And folks connected to them,” he added. He didn’t know
if Romano was aware that Angie was seeing O’Bannon. And if he didn’t know, Web did not want to be the one to tell him. “Then
he’s probably been selling the info to the highest bidder to use in knocking out law enforcement operations all over the place.”

“Holy shit! Do you think Claire was in on it?”

“No! It looks like she stumbled on the truth and now she’s disappeared.”

“Maybe she’s hiding out.”

“She would’ve called.” Web’s hands balled to fists. “Damn, I’m an idiot for not putting her on around-the-clock protection.
Now it’s too late.”

“Don’t be so sure. From the little I saw of her, she can take care of herself. On the drive to the farm, I was talking to
her some, and the lady is sharp.”

“You mean you were trying to get some free psychiatric advice.”

“I wasn’t looking for any, but hey, everybody’s got problems, okay? Talking to Claire, she made me see some things. Take me
and Angie.”

Web stared at him with great interest, if only to get his mind off Claire’s plight for a few moments. “Okay, what about you
and Angie?”

Romano looked vastly uncomfortable now that he had raised the subject. “She doesn’t want me to do HRT anymore. She’s tired
of me being gone all the time. I guess no big surprise there.” He added quietly, “And the boys are getting older and they
deserve a father who’s around more than a month out of every year.”

“Is that what she said?”

Romano looked away, “No, that’s what
I
said.”

“So you really thinking of hanging up your .45s?”

Romano shot him a glance. “Don’t you ever think about it?” Web sat back. “I talked to Debbie Riner recently and she said more
or less the same thing about Teddy. But it’s different for me, I don’t have a wife or kids, Paulie.”

Romano hunched forward. “See, the things is, in the last eight years I’ve missed four Christmases, both my boys’ First Communions,
every damn Halloween, a couple of Thanksgivings and my son Robbie being born! And on top of that I can’t tell you how many
birthdays, baseball games and soccer matches, special stuff like that. Hell, it’s like my boys are surprised when I’m home,
Web, not when I’m gone, because me gone is like normal to them.”

He touched the spot near his belly button. “And that hit I took last night? Got a nasty bruise and it hurt like hell for a
while, but what if it
had
been an inch lower, or two feet higher and through my head? I’m gone. But you know what? It wouldn’t have been that much
different than when I was alive, at least for Angie and the boys. And then what happens? Angie’s gonna get remarried, you
know that, and the boys will maybe get a real dad and forget all about Paul Romano even being their old man. I’d take a damn
Barrett round in the head over that, Web, I really would. Every time I think about it—shit!”

Web could actually see wetness in Romano’s eyes, and the sight of one of the toughest men he had ever known being brought
to his knees over love for his family hit Web harder than even Francis Westbrook ever could. Romano quickly looked away and
swiped at his face.

Web gripped Romano’s shoulder. “That’s not going to happen, Paulie; you’re a good dad. Your kids would never forget you.”
As soon as he said this, it struck Web. He had forgotten his father, totally and completely. A birthday party, six years old.
Claire had said Web and his old man were having a really good time. Until the cops showed up. “And you’re doing good for your
country too, don’t forget that,” he added. “Nobody gives a damn about serving their country anymore. Everybody just complains
about how rotten it is without doing anything to make it better. But man, the second they need you, you better be there.”

“Yeah, serving my country. And wiping out a bunch of hick kids and old farts who couldn’t hit the Statue of Liberty from three
feet away with a bazooka.”

Web sat back and said nothing because he had nothing more to say on that subject.

Romano looked up at him. “Claire will turn up, Web, and who knows, maybe you and her can be more than friends. Get a real
life.”

“You don’t think it’s too late?” It all sounded impossible to achieve.

“Hell, if it ain’t too late for me, it sure ain’t too late for you,” said Romano.

Web didn’t think he sounded too confident and the men looked miserably at each other.

Web stood. “You know, Paulie, both of us are in sorry-ass shape. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“Now I’m really looking forward to this party tonight.”

P
ercy Bates was sitting in the strategic ops center at WFO when the man walked in. Buck Winters wasn’t alone. He had his usual
twin escorts and also several others with him. Bates recognized one as a young Bureau lawyer and another as an investigator
from the Bureau’s Office of Professional Responsibility, which looked into any wrongdoing by members of the FBI. With exaggerated
solemnity, they all sat down across from Bates.

Winters tapped the tabletop with one of his long fingers. “How’s the investigation coming, Perce?”

“It’s coming real well,” answered Bates. He looked at the other people. “So what’s all this? Are you starting an investigation
of your own?”

“Heard from Randall Cove lately?” asked Winters.

Bates once more glanced at the others. “You know, Buck, with all due respect, is it okay for these people to be hearing that
name?”

“They’re all cleared for it, Perce. Trust me. They’ve been cleared for a lot.” Winters stared directly at him now. “This is
a total disaster, you know.”

“Look, HRT got sent in and they were fired upon and they fired back. Those rules of engagement are about as clean as you can
get. Nothing in the Constitution says our guys have to stand there and get gunned down.”

“I wasn’t specifically talking about the Free Society massacre.” “Damn it, Buck, it wasn’t a massacre. The Frees had guns
too, and they were using them.”

“Eight dead, old men and young boys, and not one loss on HRT’s side. Now, how do you think the press will play out that one?”

Bates dropped the file he was holding along with any shred of patience he had left. “Well, if the Bureau does its usual head-inthe-sand
and lets everybody else control the facts and the spin, I guess not real well. What do we have to do to make our ‘image’ look
okay, lose a few guys on every mission?”

“Another Waco,” said the fresh-faced lawyer, shaking her head. “Like hell it is,” yelled Bates. “You don’t know what you’re
talking about. You were still in law school with your thumb up your ass when Waco went down.”

“Like I was saying,” said Winters calmly, “I wasn’t specifically talking about the Frees.”

“What, then?” asked Bates.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that the entire security of the FBI has been compromised.”

Bates took a long breath. “Because of the psychiatrist’s office?” Winters exploded. “Yeah, Perce, that’s right, because for
God knows how long, agents and secretaries and technicians and who the hell knows who else, but apparently everybody who has
a head problem in the Bureau, has spilled their guts in that place. And somebody’s been vacuuming it up and using it for God
knows what. I’d call that a compromise of security.”

“We’re out looking for O’Bannon right now.”

“The damage has already been done.”

“It’s better than us never having found out about it.”

“Not by a wide margin it’s not. I guess you know that I was on record a long time ago against using outside psychiatrists
and psychologists, for this very security reason.”

Bates studied the man warily.
And so you’re going to use this disaster to move your career a few pegs higher, right, Buck? Like maybe the director’s office?

“No, Buck, actually, I wasn’t aware of that.”

“It’s all in the paper trail,” Winters said confidently. “Check it.” “I’m sure it is, Buck. You were always the best of the
best with the old paper trail.”
And not much else having to do with being a real FBI agent.

“Well, heads are going to roll on this one.”

But not yours.

“So what’s this I read about London participating in the assault? Please tell me that’s just an enormous typo.”

“He was there,” admitted Bates.

Winters looked like he was ready to erupt again. Then Bates sensed a very small indication of satisfaction on the man’s features,
and he finally understood where this conversation was going.

“Well, the press can just go ahead and crucify us now,” said Winters. “HRT takes out its revenge on old men and young boys.
That’ll be the lead headline on the wires tomorrow. Now hear this, Bates and hear it good, London is through, effective immediately.”
For effect, Winters picked up a pencil off the table and snapped it in half.

“Buck, you can’t do that. It’s still under review.”

“Yes, I can do that. He was on official leave of absence pending an SRB inquiry.” Winters motioned to one of his aides, who
handed him a file. Winters took his time slipping on a pair of reading glasses and then glanced over the file. “And now I’ve
also discovered that while on paid leave he was assigned to protection duty regarding one William Canfield who operates a
horse farm in Fauquier County. Who authorized that?”

“I did. Canfield’s son was killed by the Frees in Richmond. Three people connected with that incident have been murdered,
we believe by the Frees. You know all that. We didn’t want Canfield to become number four. Web was available and Canfield
trusts him. In fact, Web saved his life. And mine. So it seemed a good fit.”

“Can’t say much for Canfield’s judgment, then.”

“And we had direct evidence connecting a truck, rented by Silas Free, to the machine guns that were used to ambush HRT. We
had every right to hit them. And the assault was okayed by all appropriate parties. Check the paper trail.”