Gardener closed the line. He experienced a moment of excitement at McAdam’s confirmation of the earlier news. It meant they were going to have to bring their move forward, but he found that stimulating. The sooner they embarked on their plan, the better. Too much waiting around could allow things to go wrong. He was taunted by the image of the man named Jacobi, one of his former soldiers. A man now on the run because he hadn’t gone along with Gardener’s plan and had then taken it a step further by doing some snooping on Gardener and his people and had actually got them on videotape. Gardener was trying to contain the matter, but the longer Jacobi remained on the loose, the greater the chance he might expose what was about to happen. Having to bring matters forward like this was going to eliminate potential disasters. He called Renelli to update him on the situation.
“Still leaves Jacobi on the loose, General. He could find someone and convince them to look at that damn tape. Word gets out, it would make it impossible for us to go ahead.” Renelli paused. “General, you don’t think those Justice agents have had contact with Jacobi? Maybe he got through to them and it’s why they’ve been doing some checking?”
It gave Gardener a moment’s concern.
“No, I don’t believe so. If Jacobi had told his story and played that tape, we would be locked down by now, wondering what day it was and where we were.”
“If that’s so, General, we’re still clear we need to move fast.”
“I agree. I was giving the problem some thought just before you called. So we can’t afford to leave Jacobi on the loose where he can do anything to harm us. Can we, Renelli?”
Chase Gardener Ranch—Present
GARDENER STOOD, turned away from the view with a certain reluctance and watched the CIA man crossing the floor. McAdam looked like someone carrying the troubles of the world across the shoulders.
“Good trip, Rod?”
“Nice to see we can keep our sense of humor,” McAdam said. There was a slight peevish edge to his words. He pointed to the tumbler in Gardener’s hand. “Mind if I have one of those?”
Gardener gestured to the liquor cabinet.
“Help yourself. The large tumblers are at the back.”
McAdam took him at his word and filled a tall glass. He took a long swallow then topped up his glass before he turned back to Gardener, who had made his way to his big oak desk. McAdam took one of the comfortable leather armchairs facing the desk.
There was a silence until Gardener waved his own tumbler as an opener.
“And?”
“I managed to get word to one of my people in the area. He’s going to try to get a line on Lane. No guarantees. That part of the world is hard to crack. Those Chechens are difficult to deal with. They still operate like the damn Mafia. My guy will do what he can.”
“What about these so-called Justice Department people? Who the hell are they?”
McAdam shrugged. He swallowed some of his drink.
“A shrug hardly impresses me, Rod.”
“What else can I say? Chase, I have trawled every damn database I can access. There isn’t a known intelligence agency in existence I haven’t looked at. These guys are so off the wall it isn’t true.”
“So who are they? Reporters from Sixty Minutes? Come on, Rod, there has to be something about them.”
“Nothing, Chase. If they’re genuine, then they don’t have any recognizable remit.”
“Well, we need to find out. Jesus, Rod, you work for the fucking CIA. You run a covert black-ops section with carte blanche independence. Right now I am not exactly impressed by its competence. I brought you on board because we’ve worked together in the past and you think along the same lines as I do. Rod, wake up. I can’t afford any slip ups. It’s a damn good thing my people have these Justice agents under observation.”
McAdam didn’t even flinch. He swirled the liquid in his glass.
“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had Khalli about to stage a comeback in Baghdad. Call the Agency all you want, Chase, but it was me who got you your info on Khalli. I found where he was in hiding. I got to him and delivered him. So get off my back. And don’t think I’m trying to score points, but how’s the search for Sergeant Jacobi coming along?”
Gardener smiled. “Good one, Rod. We’re still looking. He’s been shut out from making contact with anyone. The man is alone with no one to turn to. We’ll get to him. Only a matter of time.”
“Unless he finds someone who’ll listen to him.”
“He isn’t going to find a sympathetic ear in that direction. The word has been circulated. I’m using up favors on Jacobi. Sooner or later, he’s ours.”
“Let’s hope sooner.”
Gardener inclined his head in agreement.
“Rod, your room is made up as usual. Go catch some sleep. You look like you need it. I’ll see you at dinner. The others will be here by then. Plenty of time to talk then.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that. I could do with some sleep. It’s been a busy few days and flying always knocks me sideways.”
Gardener chuckled to himself as McAdam left the room. The man had only flown in from Langley. Over the past few days Gardener had traveled all the way to Turkey and back, with no more than a few hours’ sleep from start to finish.
Rod McAdam, CIA, was an important part of Gardener’s group. The man had contacts all over. He had undercover people in place across the Middle East. The former Soviet Union. It was hard to put a finger on places where he didn’t have people. His position within the Agency meant that he controlled a large number of operatives and his long standing in black-ops meant much of his control was only known to himself. He was able to intercept and divert, even cancel out information that might point the finger at Gardener and his group. McAdam was an opportunist, tired of his profession and looking for a way out. His tie-up with Gardener meant he would be able to walk away from the Agency with a payoff far in excess of anything the CIA could have provided. The trouble with McAdam was his eternal pessimism. He let himself get wearisome and there were times when Gardener could have allowed himself to lose it with the man. He always checked himself. Bawling McAdam out would prove to be a negative action and Gardener needed the man’s access to information.
“WHEN WE ENTERED into this we all knew what we were doing. It was and still is a regrettable decision. But it has to be done because the current situation demands it.”
Gardener glanced around the room. He saw no evidence of disapproval.
“Andy, how are your people shaping up?” he asked an Air Force major.
“I have over thirty percent of my command behind me. The ones who matter. I realize that still leaves a sizeable group who refuse to join us. I have them confined to the base under guard and I have that locked down until further notice.”
“It’s a pity we have to do that,” Gardener said. “This is still a democracy and those people have their rights. But we’ll just have to ignore those rights until this situation is stabilized. After that they can make their final choices.”
Ralph Justin leaned forward. “A question.”
“Ralph?”
“I understand you are communicating between yourselves. How is it no one is picking up your transmissions? Just remember, I’m a plain old civilian.”
“It’s a good question and deserves an answer,” Gardener said. “Murphy, you want to explain.”
Lieutenant Harlan Murphy, a communications officer from Gardener’s command, nodded.
“We’re