The Good Soldier (19 page)

Marlowe smiled. A single chuckle muffled itself in his throat.

I stood and kicked my chair back behind me. I stretched out my arm, pointing the gun at his head. "Do you think I'm screwing around, Marlowe?"

He remained calm, lifting his hands and gesturing me to sit down.

I regained my composure, grabbed the chair and sat back down.

"Jack, I know all of this because it's my job to know. It's my program. I started it. I got the funding. I put the principal parties into place. They reported, ultimately, to me. Every month we would meet and discuss the operations. You were in the first group. First successful group, that is. Of course, you already know that. Your group turned out to be exactly what we wanted and proved that the program would be a success." He gave me a slight nod. "Then the world went to hell in a hand basket because of that damn Bin Laden. Outside pressure forced us to turn our attention to Afghanistan and Pakistan."

"I was sent to Iraq."

He brought the mug to his mouth and sipped loudly.

"I was against that."

"Against it? You run the program, right? That's what you just said. Plus, Iraq is your policy. Damn man, I've read about you before. You've been pushing to get in there since the attacks."

He smiled and shook his head. "Things don't work that way, son. What I say is dictated by someone above me."

"How far above you?"

"I…" He paused. "I'm not going to answer that, Jack. Besides, that isn't what you came here to discuss. Is it?"

I nodded and said nothing. He had a point. I really didn't care who ordered me to Iraq. I wanted to know who set me up and who killed Delaney and Abbot.

"So back to the program." He reached for his inside pocket again, but changed his mind. "There was some dissension right away when we split the groups, especially when the roles of the operations were defined."

"You mean like me and Logan guarding doors."

He nodded and continued. "That was just scratching the surface though. Some people started to have an interest in shutting the program down."

"You," I said.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Why do you think that?"

I opened my jacket and pulled the documents from inside my coat pocket and tossed them on the table.

Marlowe picked them up and studied them for a moment and then set them down. "What do you think this has to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure, but two people died so I could get those, so they must mean something."

He lifted his chin and exhaled loudly. "They do, but it's not what you think."

Through the window I could see the sky turning a pale blue in advance of the rising sun. Time was running out. I had to choose between the documents and the program. "Tell me this, then. Are you the one behind terminating the program?"

"Yes, Jack. But not in the way you think."

"Explain."

"I know where this operation is heading, and I don't want to be responsible for it. I wanted to terminate the Middle East operations and reassign everyone. Unfortunately, certain people had too much to lose by me doing so. On the flip side, certain people had a lot to gain by me doing so. My stance deepened the divide, and not just between the agency and the Marines. In the past week a damn civil war broke out between everyone." He clasped his hands behind his head and exhaled. "When I saw you, I thought you were sent to kill me. When things fell in place the way they did, I knew that wasn't the case."

I ran my hands across my face and through my hair while processing the information. "Four Marines are dead. Six are in prison. Two are on the run in the U.S."

"Yeah, I know."

"Who in the CIA is responsible for that?"

He shook his head and looked down at the table. "It's not the CIA, Jack. We've been watching them the entire time."

My head started to spin. It couldn't be. Could it? "Abbot," I said under my breath. I looked up expecting to see a look of confirmation.

"No. It's true that Abbot didn't want you guys over there. But the program benefited him. Plus, he wouldn't want you guys killed."

I thought back to the Audi A8. The flat screen TV in the lake house, at a time when most people still had tube TVs.
The program benefited him.

"Then who, Marlowe? I don't have all day. Just get to it, and I'll handle it."

"Who's left, Jack?"

I knew. I knew before he said it. It had always been there. "General Keller." I said it flatly.

Marlowe nodded. "I can't say with one hundred percent certainty how, but yes, Keller is who I suspect."

"So why didn't you act on it?"

He placed his forearm in front of him on the table and leaned over it. He rubbed his chin with his hand. "I've got too much to lose, Jack. Ultimately, whatever happens with the program and those in it, we'd just sweep it under the rug. No one worse for wear in knowing. Understand? If I come out and accuse a General of this..." He straightened up. "Hell, that would be political suicide, and I'm not willing to take that risk."

I said nothing. I understood what he was saying. I didn't agree, but I saw his point.

"I'd sure as hell like to know why, though. He turned on his own damn men."

"He never liked the program." I said it under my breath

"How's that?"

"He never liked the program," I repeated. "I remember sitting in his office when I was nothing but a recruit. He was sending us off. He hated it. But he had no choice." I lifted my eyes and met Marlowe's stare. "And now he's trying to end the program, permanently. Abbot knew what he was up to. He was going to tell me. Keller had him killed. He didn't know we were there though. I didn't answer his call."

Marlowe hiked his shoulders and held out his hand while his lips formed a frown.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"I'm afraid I've said too much already, Jack."

I sat back and studied his face. He had more to tell me. I could see it in his eyes. I glanced at my watch. It was almost six a.m. I had to go, get back to the hotel in Springfield and get my car. I stood and turned to leave.

"Jack?"

I looked over my shoulder.

"It should go without saying that I never shared this information with you."

I nodded, turned to face him and grabbed the documents off the table. "I'll be taking these since you already know what they are."

He started to stand in protest, but backed down when I turned my gun toward him. "Take it, Jack. It really means nothing to you."

"We should play poker sometime, Marlowe. You're horrible at bluffing." I pushed the door open and stopped again. "I'm going after Keller. I'll be back if your story doesn't jive."

I found a taxi willing to take me to Springfield. Figured that would be better than dealing with crowded Metro stations. The driver fought the traffic and dropped me off two blocks from the hotel. I walked the remaining distance. There wasn't anything of value in the room, so I didn't go in. I got in the car and merged onto I-95 southbound. Along the way I called Conners and told him I had to act on a lead and I'd get in touch with him as soon as I knew something.

Two hours later I arrived in Petersburg and parked a block away from the hotel where Jessie and Bear were staying.

I wanted Bear to come with me to Keller's. He could provide backup, even if he wasn't in the room during the confrontation. I still didn't trust Marlowe, and something told me Keller would be expecting me. I thought about taking this to one of my agency contacts, but knew that would get me nowhere. For one, the guys I knew could care less about political BS. They would wave me off and tell me to go piss up a tree. Regular authorities were out of the question. They'd arrest me without giving it a second thought. Hell, I probably had a shoot on sight designation on me by that point.

There was still the question of who Delaney and Conners worked for, and who pulled the trigger on Abbot. I hoped Keller could answer those questions for me.

I got out of the rental car and walked to the hotel. I kept my head down and wore sunglasses. Cars passed by at regular intervals, but no one seemed to care about the guy walking on the sidewalk while they were busying themselves driving to work.

The distance between D.C. and Petersburg, Virginia was approximately 120 miles. That made the difference in temperature even more astounding. At nine a.m. it was warm enough here for me to want to take off my jacket. I kept it on to keep my weapon concealed, but I started to sweat under its bulk.

I reached the hotel and scanned the parking lot before entering the lobby. A young lady stood behind the counter. She glanced up at me, smiled, and then returned to her keyboard when she saw that I had no intention of approaching her.

An elderly woman stood alone in the elevator lobby. I stopped next to her and waited for the elevator doors to open. A minute passed. I glanced around and saw that the elevator call button had not been pushed. I looked at her, smiled and leaned forward to press the single button with an up arrow printed on it. A chime sounded and the doors opened. I stuck one hand in the opening and gestured her through.

"Three please," she said.

I had already pressed the button for the third floor. That's where Bear and Jessie were staying.

Less than half a minute later the doors opened and I waited for the woman to exit. She did so and turned to the right. I stepped out and turned left.

The room was located at the end of the hall. I jogged to the door. I wanted to tell Bear everything I had learned in D.C.

And I wanted to kiss Jessie.

I stood in front of the door and rapped on it with my knuckles. A pinhead of light shone through the peephole cut into the center of the door. A few heavy steps rumbled below my feet and the pinhead of light disappeared. A second later the door opened.

"Jack," Bear said.

I nodded and stepped through the open doorway as he walked to the back of the room. I looked around, but didn't see Jess. My eyes met Bear's. He wore my disappointment on his face.

"She's gone."

"Where'd she go?"

"Don't know. I woke up and she was gone." He opened a dresser drawer and pulled out an envelope. "She left this for you."

I took the envelope labeled "Jack" from him and stared at it for a minute. "You read it?"

"Nah."

"She give any indication she was leaving?"

Bear shook his head and hiked his shoulders up an inch.

"You're sure she left. She wasn't taken?"

"Jack, no, man. We went to sleep. I got up and she was gone. If someone was going to go through the trouble of taking her from the room, don't you think they would have killed me?"

I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He had a point. If someone had broken in, they would have either taken him with them or taken him out. Plus, Bear would have woken up if someone broke in. The man might be nicknamed Bear and look like a bear, but he sure as hell didn't sleep like one.

"Read the letter, Jack."

I lifted my arms and held the envelope over my face. I decided against opening it, at least for a while. We had work to do. I sat up and tucked the sealed letter into one of the inside pockets of my jacket.

"I'll read it later," I said. "I need to catch you up on what's happened."

I talked, and Bear listened. He remained silent until I finished.

After I was done, he said, "You're sure Keller is behind it?"

I took a moment to respond. "I don't know, Bear. But I'm going to find out."

He nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"What I need to know is if you think you can come with me. Can you?"

"Yeah, Jack. I'm good to go. It hurts, but it won't stop me if things go south."

We sat in silence the next few minutes.

Bear leaned forward, his mouth open an inch. He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed at the TV behind me. "Where's the remote?" He got up.

I turned in my seat and saw what had shocked him.

Bear picked up the remote and unmuted the station.

The display under the woman said her name was Cassandra Phillips. She spoke in the serious tone all newscasters had to perfect.

"Once again, we are stunned and shocked to be reporting this breaking news. At six a.m. this morning, police found the bodies of Richard Gallo and Eddie Bealle, both CIA agents involved in the conflict in Afghanistan. The reports we've received indicate that the men were murdered, execution style, in downtown Washington, D.C."

They flashed head shots of both men on the screen and then cut to a scene in front of Gallo's home. A local news team spoke to his wife, who kept herself half hidden behind the door. A small child with blond hair clung to her exposed leg.

I tuned out the broadcast and turned to Bear.

"I just met with them last night."

"That's what you said."

"Someone is going to recall seeing them with me."

"You didn't do it, right Jack?"

Cassandra's voice returned on the TV and I spun around to watch.

"There are no suspects in the case at this time. Police have said they are looking for a person of interest, but details have not been released. We will keep you apprised of the story as we become aware of additional developments."

I threw my hands behind my head and grabbed my hair. "It's either the same people that took out Delaney, or it's…"

Bear waited a second and then prompted me to speak.

"Martinez," I said.

"Martinez? You think he'd take out his own guys?"

"They weren't his guys. He was loyal to his original team. So, yeah, I wouldn't put this past him."

Bear turned off the TV and moved to the window. He pulled back the curtains and studied the parking lot.

"We should go."

I got up and walked to the door.

"Yeah. Get your stuff."

* * *

We hurried down the block and got in the car. The hotel was five minutes from the interstate. I stopped and filled up on gas, and then hit the interstate heading south. We drove in silence until we crossed the North Carolina state border.

"It's a good six hours to Savannah, so catch up on sleep if you need to," I said.