Like Grownups Do (37 page)

“What the hell are you
doing
, Jack? I feel just as bad about Petrelli as any—”

Jack stabbed his cane into the floor and used it to propel himself to his feet.

“You’ve gotten
really
careful lately, haven’t you, Russell? Not like last year. No, last year you were careless. Careless and fearless, I would say; fueled up the company car in Jersey. Forgot to get cash that day, huh, Russ? Not very smart. We’ve been watching you for a long time. We knew where you had been so we knew where to look.

“Now, of course, that wouldn’t really be any big fucking deal, if it weren’t for
these.”

Jack threw down the stack of eight by ten glossy photos on his desk. Several of them slid across the desk and to the floor. But enough of them landed on the desk in front of Russell Eckhart to produce a look of terror.

The high quality, high definition photos showed Russell Eckhart entering and exiting several different hotel rooms accompanied by very obviously under-aged girls—and one boy.

“Finding this hotel was not that difficult—there are enough landmarks in the background. Nor was it difficult to find two others, all listed in the name of a non-existent corporation whose trail leads precisely nowhere. Who would have thought that you would find so many T1 and T3 internet service lines leading into three dirty little budget hotels along the interstate? What could those possibly be for? Jerry?”

Jerry Snider opened a notebook.

“Identity theft, stolen corporate credit card numbers, phishing programs, keystroke loggers, trojans, illegal gambling sites, underage prostitution: Girls from Thailand, Indonesia, Central America—just about the whole fucking criminal kitchen sink, Jack.”

“Right this minute,” Jack said, “twenty-six little hackers are crying like little girls and pissing into their shoes. And I’m quite sure all of them will recognize Mr. Eckhart, here. Hell, Russell. Did you know that you’re a movie star? We’ve already found sixteen hotel rooms full of high tech surveillance and video recording equipment, so no doubt blackmail and extortion will be added to the list.”

Jack began to yell, something Babe had never heard him do. A vein stood out on Jack’s forehead. His skin turned red and spit flew from his lips.

“Dominick Petrelli is dead. His wife is a widow. His children are without a father and his parents are heartbroken because these
fucking
criminals got to someone on the inside—someone who had the access to pass Andrew London’s fake credentials and personnel files straight through into our system.”

Jack pushed the PA button on his intercom. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat.

“Attention, attention, all personnel. Outside my office—right now.”

Jack walked from behind his desk toward the door and said to Len Shackleford in a voice filled with venom,

“Get him on his goddamned feet.”

Babe followed the procession from Jack’s office into the area in front of it. He spotted MG, who was standing to his left. Jack nodded to Len Shackleford, who walked over and locked the entrance door. Twenty-eight men and eleven women looked on nervously. No one said anything as they all tried to appear cool.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jack began. “I regret to inform you that Assistant Special Agent in Charge, Russell Eckhart, will be leaving our office today after ten years of service.”

Jack turned to face Eckhart.

“I believe I speak for everyone here, when I say,” Eckhart reflexively started to offer his right hand—

Jack threw a right-handed uppercut into Russell Eckhart’s midsection.

Everyone in the room exhaled loudly in empathy—not for Eckhart, but for his stomach.

Eckhart collapsed to the floor and tried to catch his breath. He curled up on his side in the fetal position.

“Ladies and gentlemen,
that,
” Jack turned to face the agents and office staff.

His eyes were ablaze and he wore a satisfied grin.

“T
hat
is a secret.”

Babe stepped toward Russell Eckhart and started to kneel down. Len Shackleford reached toward him.

“Sir—”

Babe continued to stare at Eckhart and raised his index finger toward Shackleford. The Security Agent did not interfere.

Eckhart rolled onto his back, still holding his midsection. Babe stared into Eckhart’s eyes and lifted his hand toward Eckhart’s arm.

Eckhart’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head. The shaking intensified quicker as Babe’s hand grew closer.

“Nooooo…” Eckhart croaked.

Babe touched Eckhart’s arm.

He withdrew it as he sat back on his heels.

“You…know,” Eckhart whispered. “Everything.”

“Yes,” Babe said.

Eckhart squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, and turned away.

“That’s enough,” Eckhart said.

Babe nodded, and stood.

Len Shackleford stepped aside to phone his fellow agents that waited downstairs and then he unlocked the front door. He pulled Russell Eckhart to his feet and handcuffed him while one of the other agents read him his rights.

The Boston agents and office staff looked on in shock.

Jack, Jerry Snider, and David Ferguson returned to Jack’s office. MG buzzed around Jack, trying to determine if he was hurt.

Babe and MG sat on the sofa in Jack’s office while phone calls were made. Jack finally made the decision to end his involvement for the day. He winked at MG and Babe.

“Yes sir, I understand, Mr. President. I believe I need to go lie down now, sir. I’ve been reminded that I was shot a few days ago. Thank you, sir. Good night.”

Jack, MG, and Babe made their way out of the building after shaking a few dozen hands. MG tried to get Jack to lean on her shoulder, but he assured her that he could make the short walk. The three of them had just entered the parking garage when MG’s cell phone rang.

“I’m sorry, Jack. They need us to come back. They said it would just take a minute.”

Babe opened and held the entrance door. Whether it was shift change, or merely hastily made phone calls to off-sight and off-duty staff, about eighty members of the Boston FBI office erupted in cheers and applause.

Someone started a round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”.

One by one, the fervent supporters of Jack Englemann shook his hand, or hugged him. Some people kissed him, and some of these were women.

When the well-wishers had finished their rounds, they joined in another loud ovation. MG stood guard over Jack and made sure that no one got too over-zealous.

When MG was convinced that Jack was safe, she stood in front of him and took his face in her hands and gently kissed him on the lips.

She stood back and smiled at him.

Jack smiled back.

Then he threw down his cane, put his arms around MG, and kissed her passionately.

Like grownups do, sometimes.

When they parted, their smiles were even larger.

A disembodied voice rose from the rear of the group of FBI staff.

“Jesus, Jack. ‘Bout time, ya t
hink?”

The laughter and applause that followed were perfect.

Babe thought that this was the remarkable ending to a phenomenal day. And it would have been, except that the last thing Jack said to him.

“Gabriel— what is it? Atlas?”

“Athas.”

“I want him in my office. Yesterday.”

Thirty-Five

“
G
ood morning, Millie. You look awesome.”

“Good morning, Babe. You look tired.”

“Good morning, Tom. Awesome, as well, you look.”

“Thanks, Yoda. Like an Ewok in your corn flakes defecated, you look.”

“How the hell am I supposed to sleep?” Babe said.

“When I lie down, the Sandman comes in, looks around inside my head, and concludes that no REM dream state can compete with the lunacy of my real life, so he just throws me in the floor.”

“I know you told me on the phone, but I have to hear this live and in person,” Tom said. “Let’s see if I have this right. This guy Gabriel had pictures of
Eckhart
with underage prostitutes in Jersey. He gave them to you, and this brought down an entire international criminal operation and Ebenezer Beetlejuice is looking at life on the fed farm
?
Who
the fuck is
this Gabriel guy?”

Babe ran his hands down his face and stretched his eyes open.

“I have no freaking idea. But Jack, and the Director, and the Pentagon, and the President all want me to find him. And I don’t think I can.”

“What do you mean? He was looking for you a few days ago,” Millie asked.

“It’s just a feeling,” Babe said.

“That’s crazy, Babe. If you can’t find him—hell, nobody can hide from the FBI,” Tom said.

“I’m not so sure,” Babe said.

Babe went into his office, sat down his briefcase, and opened Gabriel Athas’s file. He began making a list of places to contact. His phone rang.

“Hello, Babe? It’s Jack.”

“Hey, Jack. What’s up?”

“I haven’t been in to the office. I’m afraid I’m a little sore, from…you know. I just had a call from the Bureau. There’s been another attack on our network.”

“Jesus. How did Eckhart pull that off?” Babe asked.

“I don’t think he had the chance. The head of Cyber says he thinks it could have been a remote trigger or maybe a delayed bomb left by London.

“He also says that London was probably the best he’s ever seen. One of our analysts was accessing a personnel file when he saw the first of the errors. At the very least, all of our personnel files are toast. They’re not blanked, they’ve just been…well, he says it looks like someone tossed a grenade into a Scrabble factory.

“I need for you to pull the intranet cables on all your machines, for now. Two techs are headed your way and MG should be there any minute.”

“Tom Millie. You find anything yet?” Babe yelled from his office.

“Everything looks okay to me here!” Tom yelled.

“Situation normal. All okie-dokie,” Millie yelled.

Babe gathered up Gabriel’s file and walked to Millie’s desk.

“Millie. Just for grins, pull up Gabriel Athas’s file on your terminal.”

“Okay, just a sec,” Millie said.

“Uh, Babe. Something is a little squirrelly here,” Millie said.

“What do you mean, squirrelly? We don’t need squirrelly. Squirrelly is not good,” Babe said.

“There is no file on a Gabriel Athas. But there
is
a file on Gabriel
Angelis,”
Millie said.

Babe moved around to look over Millie’s shoulder.

“Did you enter the right name?”

“I entered the name from the paperwork I had. Are you
sure
that’s his last name?” Millie asked.

Babe squeezed his eyes shut.

“Millie, I’m not sure what
my
name is.”

MG burst into the office.

“Good morning, everybody. Have we found anything? You’ve heard from Jack, right? I haven’t been to the office yet.”

“But Jack just hung up the phone with the head of Cyber. How did you…oh,” Babe came to a logical conclusion.

MG pulled up a chair next to Millie with a reddish tint to her cheeks.

She winked at Babe, who reached and gave her a hug. Tom and Millie looked at each other and shrugged.

“It doesn’t look like we were affected, but there is a strange glitch in the system involving Gabriel Athas’s file,” Babe said.

The name caused MG to jerk around in her seat.

“What do you mean glitch? This man has blown open the biggest scandal inside the Bureau in the last century. There can’t be a glitch. Please tell me you’re joking. Please.”

“Show her, Millie,” Babe said.

“Look, MG. I logged everything in straight from the paperwork that you gave me—right there. Gabriel Angelis. That’s the only last name I know anything about. But Babe says that his name is Athas.”

“So which one is it, MG? You have the file, right?” Babe asked.

MG looked stunned.

“I…I don’t remember, for sure. I’m almost sure it was…fuck. I don’t know. I’ll look it up as soon as I get to the Bureau. Babe, you had better get busy trying to run him down. Tom, give Babe whatever help you can.”