The Election (37 page)

“I'll be there in ten minutes.”

Omni hotel, San Antonio, Texas

Shep Taylor barely slept after receiving Dalton's call just after ten o'clock Tuesday night. He knew he'd been grasping at straws when he'd told Dalton to leak information to Bryan Jenkins. But this was different. Jake Reed was not only alive, he held the key to exposing Edward Burke.

Shep could hardly contain his excitement when he, Jack, and Mac met for their Wednesday-morning planning session. He wasn't certain how Mac would react, but it was too late for that now. Events were already in motion, and nothing Mac could say or do could stop them.

“Before we get started, I've got something I need to tell you about,” Shep began. He turned to face Mac, because there was no need in hiding from his actions at this point. “Mac, this will come as a shock to you, but immediately after the Democratic Convention I hired a private investigator to investigate Edward Burke.”

“You did what?” Mac exclaimed in disbelief. Shep could see the anger in Mac's face as he slammed a folder full of papers on the coffee table in his hotel suite.

“Just hear me out.”

“I don't want to hear you out,” interrupted Mac. “I have always run my campaigns aboveboard, and I don't plan on changing now. I can't believe you would do something like this, Shep.” Mac glared at Jack. “Did you know about this?”

“I only found out about it a week ago,” Jack replied, his voice timid.

“Don't blame him for any of this,” Shep insisted. “I made this decision on my own, and I didn't tell you or Jack about it.”

“I'm astounded, Shep. What did you hope to accomplish?”

“At the time, I was hoping to find some information about Burke's fund-raising. That's what we talked about that night in Miami. But what we found was bigger than any of us ever could have anticipated.”

“What are you talking about?” Mac asked.

“I'm talking about conspiracy and murder and money laundering and attempted murder, just to name a few.”

“Are you saying that Edward Burke's been involved in some type of criminal activity?” Mac asked, suddenly much calmer than he was a minute ago.

“That's exactly what I'm saying. We now know that evidence exists that ties Burke to all those crimes I mentioned.” Shep provided all the details to Mac and Jack, beginning with the murder of Jesse Thompson and ending with the telephone call he'd received from Dalton last night.

After Shep finished, silence blanketed the room. Mac and Jack appeared stunned. Shep knew that this information was significant enough to alter the outcome of the election, even at this late date.

“I don't condone what you did, Shep,” Mac scolded. “But now that you have this information, what do you suggest we do with it?”

“Like I said, we only know that the evidence exists. Until we have our hands on it, we can't do anything. If they don't already, the FBI will soon have the same information that I just shared with you. I'm hoping they will take action, but I can't be certain they will. So we wait and hope that the news breaks soon enough to help us. If not, we may have a president in the White House who is an accomplice to murder.”

“When do you think you'll know something?” Jack asked.

“Today. No later than tomorrow. The PI has a junior-level contact inside the FBI. He's on the phone with him as we speak. We know we can't talk to the director because the director is loyal to Burke. But we think the deputy director may be friendly. If our hunch is correct, the deputy director should be on his way to Jackson, Tennessee, this afternoon. If our hunch is wrong, we're in trouble.”

“Anything we need to do?” Mac asked.

Shep had thought long and hard about what he would say to Mac if the conversation went the way it had. It wouldn't have surprised him if Mac had forbidden any further involvement by his campaign team. But he hadn't. For whatever reason, he hadn't.

And Shep understood. He understood that Mac realized that the exploitation of this information was his only chance at winning the presidency.
Things happen for a reason,
Mac was always saying. And Shep understood that Mac realized that maybe, just maybe, the reason things were happening the way they were was because he was supposed to be president. Mac Foster, a God-fearing, Bible-believing man, was supposed to be president. Shep liked the sound of that, and he knew that Mac liked it too. So when Mac asked what they needed to do, Shep was prepared with the answer.

“I'm already booked on a flight into Jackson. I want your authority to do whatever is necessary to make sure this information about Burke is released to the public.”

 

FBI headquarters, Washington DC

George McCullough rushed into Charlie Armacost's office with the news he'd received Wednesday morning from Dalton Miller. He and Charlie already knew that Jake Reed was alive based on the reports from Agent Simon. Jerry had kept Charlie and George informed on the search for Jake, and they had carefully watched the developments in Jackson. George could tell that Charlie struggled with the realization that the Bureau's failure to take Claudia into protective custody, or to even intercept Agents Osborne and Moyers, may have almost cost Jake Reed his life. But now George was armed with the information that would put an end to the whole ordeal. How to tell Charlie where he got the information was a different story.

“Charlie, have you ever thought that one day you might be the director of the FBI?”

“Sure I have. What agent worth his salt doesn't think about that possibility? But with Edward Burke in the White House, it's not going to happen anytime soon, and I'm not getting any younger.”

That was the answer George hoped to hear. He also hoped that Charlie would respond to the rest of what he was about to say in a similar fashion.

“Charlie, over the last several months I've been in contact with a representative of the Foster campaign.” George saw the look of surprise on Charlie's face and defensively held up both hands, palm side toward Charlie. “Before you say anything, let me finish. My contact is a private investigator named Dalton Miller who was hired by the Foster campaign. He's been in Jackson, Tennessee, for about as long as we have. He called me this morning with some interesting information. It turns out that Attorney Reed has confided in Miller and confirmed that he has tangible evidence that connects Burke with Randolph Winston and the Thompson murder.”

“Did Reed say what the evidence was?”

“He wouldn't say. Only that it was enough to convict, and that it was in a secure location.”

“What help do Foster's people want from us?”

“They need our help in obtaining the information from Reed and releasing it to the media.”

“Why don't they leak it themselves?”

“They need us to do that.”

“Why does it matter?”

“It's the credibility factor. If it comes from them, then the media and the voters may question the credibility of the information, and Burke may still win. If it comes from us, then it carries instant credibility and will spread like wildfire throughout the country.”

Charlie leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands over his flattop, and stared at the ceiling. George sensed that the pieces to the puzzle were snapping into place in Charlie's mind.

“That's why you asked me if I wanted to be director?” Charlie redirected his eyes from the ceiling back to George.

“That's it. We assist Foster, and you'll be named director.”

“You realize the risk, don't you, George? If it fails and Burke wins, we're finished.”

“The way I see it, we're finished anyway if Burke wins. You told me before that the whole world will change. I don't like that thought. The world isn't perfect, but I like the way it is now better than the alternative.”

“So you want to help Foster?”

“I don't think we have a choice.”

George knew Charlie was right. They didn't have a choice. With Burke as president the whole world would indeed change. He didn't know the magnitude of the changes planned by Randolph Winston. But it was enough motivation for him, and he knew it was motivation for Charlie as well, just to keep Burke out of the White House. He was evil, and he had to be stopped.

George finally received the answer from Charlie for which he hoped.

“I agree, George. We don't have a choice. It looks like we need to go to Jackson and find out what's going on.”

“I guessed that would be your response, and I've already ordered the plane to be waiting on us.”

 

En route to Jackson-Madison County General Hospital

Agent Simon was waiting with his government sedan when the Bureau-owned Learjet carrying Charlie Armacost and George McCullough touched down at McKellar-Sipes Regional Airport. Agent Boyd was still recuperating at the Regional Medical Center in Memphis from his gunshot wound. The three quickly traveled to Jackson-Madison County General Hospital, and after showing their FBI credentials to the sheriff's deputies patrolling the facility, they were escorted to see Jake Reed. Everyone—hospital staff, patients, and visitors—stopped and gawked at the three men with closely cropped haircuts and trench coats as they strode through the hallways. A buzz of conversation rose up in their wake.

The deputies led the three FBI agents to Jake's room, where they found Jake and Rachel alone.

 

Jackson-Madison County General Hospital, Jackson, Tennessee

“Mr. Reed,” the lead man said as a trio of trench-coated men entered the hospital room. “My name is Charlie Armacost, and I'm the deputy director of the FBI.”

“With everything that has happened, I can't say that I'm surprised to see you.”

“This is George McCullough, the assistant deputy director,” Mr. Armacost said, pointing toward the second man. “And I think you already know Agent Simon.” Mr. McCullough and Agent Simon nodded in the direction of Jake but didn't say anything. They remained stonefaced.

Evidently the deputy director was going to do all the talking.

“Yeah, I know him,” Jake replied. “He's probably the reason I'm here.”

“I assure you that's not true. We're here because we received a call from Dalton Miller.”

Jake knew from that statement that Mr. Miller had conveyed his message to the right place. He was still cautious though. “Go on.”

“Mr. Miller called Mr. McCullough and told him that you may have information that is pertinent to an ongoing investigation concerning possible criminal activities conducted by Vice President Edward Burke and others. Is that true?”

“I'm not sure I want to answer that question, Mr. Armacost. How do I know I can trust you? You've bugged my office and had me under surveillance for weeks. That doesn't make you very trustworthy in my opinion.”

“I'll take the blame for that, Mr. Reed. We knew that an international assassin was in the country, and the Thompson murder too closely resembled the assassin's typical modus operandi. Keeping tabs on you was the only way I had to keep track of what was happening without arousing too much suspicion.”

“And the attacks on me and my family?”

“Like I said, we didn't have anything to do with that. I have a real good idea who did, but it wasn't us.”

Jake closely studied the eyes and faces of the men in the room, then caught his wife's eye.

Rachel nodded slightly as if to say she believed what Charlie Armacost said.

“Satisfied?” Mr. Armacost asked.

“Satisfied.”

“Good. Now back to my original question. Is it true that you have information pertinent to the investigation?”

“I have several things, Mr. Armacost, but I guess you probably already know about most of them.” Jake saw the deputy director's sly grin but knew he wouldn't confirm his suspicions. “But what you don't know about is a video that I have. Until now only two people besides me knew of its existence. And one of them is dead.”

“A video? That's very interesting, Mr. Reed. But I bet it's not half as interesting as what's on the tape. Am I right?”

“You guessed it. The contents of the tape are, shall we say, very revealing about a certain prominent political figure.”

“I assume you mean Vice President Burke?”

“Right again.”

“When can we have this tape?”

“That depends.” Jake pursed his swollen lips.

“Depends on what?”

“On what I get in return.”

The FBI man's eyes narrowed. “You know I could have you arrested for obstruction, don't you, Mr. Reed?”

“I know you won't do that, Mr. Armacost. It would take weeks for you to get the video.”

Jake could tell from the look on the deputy director's face that he was resolved to meet the demands.