The Forgotten Soldier: A Pike Logan Thriller (11 page)

20

G
eorge Wolffe drove, with Kurt in the passenger seat. Jennifer sat in the rear, as if she were being chauffeured, but she had no illusions about who was in charge. She felt small, like a child being paraded in front of other parents for bragging rights.

Pike had left her last night, taking a flight out to Billings, Montana, to talk to Guy. He was her expert on the Oversight Council, but they’d spent the afternoon talking about Guy and the threat he posed. Pike had been genuinely worried, something she rarely saw, so she’d heard him out. They hadn’t talked at all about her ceremony today, the protocols involved and the land mines she should avoid, and now she was regretting it.

Wolffe pulled into the security checkpoint for the West Wing of the White House, flashing his credentials and reciting their names. The guard took the information, checked a computer, and waved them through, into one of the most secure spaces in the US umbrella. It was surreal to her. A guy could check a clipboard and let them in?

The only other time she’d been here had also been a Taskforce invitation, years ago, but she hadn’t known it then. She thought she’d been arrested and was being dragged off to some top secret dungeon.

Kurt turned around and said, “Remember what we talked about. I’ll say a few words, and then you graciously accept the accolades. No
big deal. Don’t go off script here. The whole point is to let me bring up Guy’s new evidence. Chances are, you won’t have to say a thing.”

Jennifer nodded without conviction and Kurt said, “Hey, you okay?”

She looked at the West Wing to her right and said, “I’d rather be back home, in Charleston. Or in a gunfight.”

Kurt laughed and said, “I know it looks imposing, but everyone here takes a shit just like you do.”

She scrunched her face up at his words and he backpedaled. “I mean, they’re just humans. I didn’t mean they take a . . . they do . . .”

George Wolffe pulled into their designated parking spot and cut Kurt off, saying, “I think you’ve done enough.”

He put the car in park and turned around, looking her in the eye. “Jennifer, trust me, you own this terrain. The men in this room all think they’re important, but they don’t ever risk their lives. That’s what you do, and they want to touch the magic. They’ll be fawning over you.”

She nodded, and they exited the car, moving away from the West Wing and toward the Old Executive Office Building next door. Kurt and George showed their credentials again, and she was given a badge with a large
V
on it, meaning “visitor, escort required.” They had passed through the metal detectors and begun walking upstairs when Jennifer’s phone buzzed with a text. She checked the message, seeing it was from Pike.

Tell Kurt to check his phone. Guy never showed in Montana. Whereabouts unknown. Coming back now.

She thought,
That’s not good
, and they reached a room on the second floor, a light above the door dormant, waiting to start blinking if the area was unsecure. Waiting on the meeting to begin. Mingling about outside were men of power. Jennifer said, “Kurt, hey—”

Before she could finish, he said, “Time to start playing the game.” He walked up to the first man and said, “Hey, sir, how’s it going? I mean your day, not your job.”

The man laughed and shook his hand. She tried to place who he
was, recognizing him but not knowing why. George leaned in and said, “Easton Beau Clute. Chair of the Senate Intelligence Committee. A friend. Someone we need, but not someone we want you talking to outside of the meeting. No telling what he’ll ask.”

A little nonplussed at the attitude, Jennifer simply nodded, allowing George to usher her into the conference room. She knew the members of the Oversight Council were the only people read on to Taskforce activities, and that those activities were volatile, but she didn’t understand why she should be kept away from talking to the very men who authorized them.

She relinquished her cell phone before entering, putting it in a small locker designed for that purpose.

Locking up his own phone, George saw her look and said, “Nothing personal, but everything in this town is politics. You say one wrong thing, and that’ll be the reason for doing something. Or not doing something.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

He showed her to a chair while other people milled around the room, looking at her, realizing she was the
one
, and he said, “Talking in front of the group is fine. Talking one-on-one is asking for disaster. Nobody here will ask you a question that isn’t loaded. Trust me.”

She nodded and he turned to go, fulfilling his own political duties. She grabbed his sleeve and said, “Hey, I just got a text from Pike. Guy didn’t show in Montana. He wanted Kurt to know.”

George nodded, showing no outward emotion, but she saw something behind his expression. A subtle fear. He walked away, shaking hands and making small talk.

Trying to sink into her chair, she surveyed the room. She knew that the Oversight Council was a select group, but the authority in this room was unprecedented. Comprised of only thirteen individuals, the members had been handpicked by the president himself, and each man in the room had a portfolio that far exceeded his duties here.

The secretary of defense, secretary of state, director of the CIA, national security advisor . . . the names just ran on, dripping with the power of the US government. She felt a little overwhelmed.

After a bit of time, as Jennifer sat patiently, the room coalesced around the conference table, the men taking their seats and Kurt walking to the front. He nodded at her. She noticed George take a seat in the rear, behind everyone else, and wondered if he’d passed the message.

A scrum of activity happened at the front of the room, and the president of the United States entered. Peyton Warren.

He shook Kurt’s hand, then walked directly to Jennifer, scaring the hell out of her. He held out his hand and said, “Jennifer Cahill. It’s been a while.”

She stood, a plastic smile on her face. He turned around to the room and said, “Some of you might remember Jennifer from that operation in Bosnia a few years ago. Some of you don’t, but I’m sure Kurt will let you know why she’s here. While we talk a good game in this room, she’s putting it all on the line to execute. I want you people to remember that our words have consequences.”

He took his seat at the head of the table and nodded to Kurt, saying, “Let’s go. I’ve got another appointment to attend.”

Jennifer was amazed at the nonchalance. She expected something more formal, but realized that, in the end, it
was
just a meeting. And he was just a man.

Kurt went into his rehearsed speech, talking about the activities of the Taskforce and how much they meant to the defense of the United States. He blathered on for a good five minutes, speaking about Guy and how he couldn’t be there because of a death in the family, then got to Jennifer. He played up the mission in the Caymans, hinting that females were the new face of the Taskforce and making her seem like the second coming of James Bond. Eventually, he called her forward. She approached, standing next to him, and the room clapped. A nice,
respectful sound, the men in the room looking at her in wonder. She felt like a piece of livestock on show.

She took in the applause, smiled at Kurt for the accolades, then returned to her seat, the entire purpose of her visit over in seconds. She realized why the men hated these ceremonies. The chasm between the Council members and what she did was as great as that of a fan watching the Super Bowl and the quarterback on the field.

Except the Council members in this room called the plays.

21

K
urt went into the meat of his talk, discussing ongoing operations. Occasionally, one of the Council members would steal a glance her way. Wanting to touch the magic.

Missions in the Maghreb, operations in Southeast Asia, problems with cover organizations, and issues with equipment. Kurt droned on and on, with a PowerPoint slide punctuating each segment. Jennifer faded out, wondering why she’d come at all. She heard the name Guy George, then her own name, and snapped back to the briefing.

“. . . from what Pike and Jennifer gathered, I believe this man is a financier of Islamic State activities and a legitimate Taskforce target. He’s funded terrorism in Afghanistan and is implicated in the death of at least four members of United States Special Forces.”

President Warren said, “So what are you asking for?”

“Alpha. Let me explore. Let’s find out what this guy is up to. I know he’s killing people. I just don’t know how.”

Silent before, probably dozing off, Secretary of State Jonathan Billings exploded, “No way! Have you lost your mind? That’s Haider al-Attiya! Son of Sharif al-Attiya. They’re both representatives of the Qatar Investment Authority. Jesus Christ, you might as well accuse the Saudi Royal Family of being terrorists.”

Kurt said, “Okay. I’m game for that discussion.”

Billings stammered for a moment, then said, “You are an
idiot
.
Like every other conspiracy theorist out there. You have no idea what is going on in the world. You’re a hammer looking for a nail.”

Kurt snapped back at his words, his face reflecting the contempt he felt. He said, “You want to hide behind their cloak of diplomacy, that’s your mistake. I’m presenting facts. Pure and simple.”

Billings raised his voice. “The Qatar Investment Authority is not funding terrorism. It has the backing of the emir. They have holdings all over the world. They’re about to save the euro from crashing completely with their infusion of cash in Greece. You’ve lost your mind if you think they’re spending their time killing soldiers in Afghanistan. Jesus, they’re the ones who are bankrolling the building of our new embassy in London. They bought the old one.”

Kurt took a breath and said, “Like I said, I’m presenting facts. How do you explain not one but two pictures on a target package in Afghanistan? I didn’t make that up. I didn’t wish a soldier’s death. I don’t like it any more than you. But facts are facts.”

“Allegations aren’t facts. The pictures you have are nothing but wishful thinking. They’re so damn bad they could be anybody.” Billings turned to the president and said, “Sir, surely we aren’t now talking about targeting a sovereign government based on some grainy pictures from Afghanistan? We know how often those are wrong.” He looked at Kurt and said, “We know how often Special Forces soldiers kill civilians by mistake.”

Jennifer saw the words hit home and thought Kurt was going to launch himself across the table, the tension in the room ratcheting up to the breaking point. She watched Kurt restrain himself, and wished Pike had been there. Billings deserved a thumping for his statement, even if Kurt couldn’t dish it out.

Instead of using his fists, Kurt used words, and Jennifer finally understood why she was in the room. What Knuckles had meant about her doing some good. Kurt had been prepared for Billings, and she was weight in the fight. Kurt pointed at her and said, “That is a
Taskforce member. One you just applauded. She is the face of what you’re calling a murderer. Look at her and say that.”

Truculent, Billings crossed his arms, saying nothing, his eyes remaining on Kurt. Everyone else in the room looked her way, and she could tell Kurt’s words had had an effect. In the back, behind everyone else, George Wolffe winked at her.
Score one for the Taskforce.

President Warren raised a hand and said, “Everyone take a breath. Kurt, how sure are you about this? You’re asking for a delicate mission here. We aren’t talking about some ISIS guy from Algeria.”

Kurt turned away from Billings and said, “Sir, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking for Alpha. I’ve got five faces and two names. Both names are in the QIA. The other three faces probably are as well. One of the names is in the United States right now, in Key West. We know that from Jennifer’s mission.”

Billings said, “We don’t
know
anything. We’re just guessing.”

Kurt ignored him and continued. “I’m not saying I want to thump them in the head tomorrow. I’m saying I want to investigate.” He nodded at Jennifer and said, “I’m saying let’s use what our members have found.”

President Warren looked at Billings and said, “And what’s wrong with that?”

Billings said, “What’s wrong with that? Sir, first, the Taskforce has no operational authority in the United States. I’m not looking to expand its mandate. I was against them even doing the mission in the Caymans.
That
was outside its charter. This is stretching things to the breaking point. As far as I’m concerned, the entire thing is fruit from the poisoned tree.”

The secretary of defense spoke up. “Are you really telling us that we can’t proceed against a terrorist threat based on some lawyer lingo? Seriously?”

The director of the CIA chuckled, turned to the president, and said, “Sir, not to paint too fine a gloss on this, but that’s fucking stupid.”

Jennifer inwardly smiled and saw Kurt relax, triumph assured. President Warren said, “Okay, okay, wait a minute. We’re missing the point. Billings, why would it be bad to do this? Besides the precedent? What are you seeing from State?”

“Sir, the Qatar Investment Authority is about to dump money into Greece. They’re willing to support the Greek government beyond the European Union. The EU has asked for draconian measures for debt relief. Measures the Greek government can’t meet. If we do this, we’re going to cause the investments to be withdrawn. And with that, the failure of the euro as a currency. If Greece leaves the European Union, the euro as a currency will most likely collapse. That will send the US economy into a recession. Possibly a depression. We can’t let that happen.”

President Warren said, “So if I don’t help Greece avoid the very measures they need to emplace to stay solvent, I’m wrong? I have to watch one more Band-Aid be slapped on, or I’m the bad guy?”

Billings said, “Sir, that’s not the way to look at this. As wrong as you think it may be, if the euro fails, it’ll destroy any recovery we think we have. It’s a national security issue. I’ve been working on this deal for damn near a year. And my point man is the target Kurt’s got on the screen. You get rid of him, and you’ve lost the investment.”

Billings glanced at Jennifer, then went to Kurt, saying, “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. I have to put our nation’s interests beyond a single attack. I’m not saying he was behind what you allege, because I really don’t think he was, but even so, one death in Afghanistan isn’t worth the destruction of the economy of the European Union—and the ripple effects into the United States. You remove him and you cut the legs out from under Greece. I’m sorry, but as you said, it’s just a fact.”

Billings turned to the president and said, “Sir, beyond all of the Greek problems, Haider is also the man I’m working with on that other issue. The delicate one.”

Jennifer didn’t know what that meant but saw that Billings’s words held weight. Saw the twisted decision making of the US government
right in front of her eyes. For the first time, understanding that lives of US citizens took a backseat to US policy. She saw the faces in the room and knew the answer before the president spoke.

Warren leaned back, surveying the council members and seeing concurrence for what he was about to say. “No Alpha authority here. We have enough targets to worry about. Focus on the ones that are a tangible threat.”

Kurt said, “Sir? They killed a US citizen. They killed a Special Forces soldier. You want to just forget that?”

Jennifer was shocked at the insubordination.

Warren bristled and said, “We have no proof of that. Don’t paint me in the blood of a dead American. You know better. You, most of all. You just briefed four other targets that we
know
have American blood on their hands and are a tangible threat. Did you not?”

Kurt retreated and said, “Yes, sir. We have four targets right now. Two ready for Omega.”

“Well, then, it looks like you have your hands full anyway. You’d have to trade one known for an unknown. Deal with the current targets, then we’ll revisit a Qatar connection.”

Kurt nodded and President Warren softened his tone. “Kurt, I understand the personal connection here, but even if these guys were responsible for the attack in Afghanistan, they aren’t a clear and present danger to the United States. They aren’t a threat to the homeland. The Taskforce can only do so much.”

Kurt said, “So forget Guy George’s brother.”

President Warren rubbed his eyes and said, “Yes. If that’s what you want to call it.”

Kurt muttered something that Jennifer didn’t hear. She heard the asshat Billings drive home the wound, forcing the pain through his victory. “What was that, Kurt? What did you say?”

Kurt slowly turned to Billings. “I said it’s easy to forget a man in here. When you have no skin in the game.”

Billings started to respond, his pallid double chin quivering in anger, when the light above the door flashed. Someone was trying to enter. Kurt and Billings glared at each other while security clearances were checked, and the man was admitted. Jennifer expected him to go to the president, but he didn’t. He walked straight to Jonathan Billings, the secretary of state, and leaned into his ear.

Billings jerked upright, then focused on Kurt. “You’re already operating on the Qatari men, aren’t you?”

He stood up and pointed at Jennifer. “Did you use her information? I can’t believe I even considered cheering about her exploits. You sicken me.”

President Warren said, “Calm down. What was that all about?”

Billings looked at the president and said, “Ahmed Mansoor? The guy from the Caymans? They just found him with his throat slit in Florida.”