The Good Soldier (9 page)

Instead of following us onto the shoulder, the cruiser passed by.

Bear let out a loud sigh. "Thought we were goners."

The drive to D.C. took just under six hours. We took I-95 past the outer loop to I-395. Crossed the Potomac and drove into downtown. I found a parking garage near the National Mall on 11th Street. We left the car there and exited the garage onto 11th Street, turning left toward Pennsylvania Avenue.

I pointed at a store across the road. "We stand out. Let's get some clothes."

I found a brown leather jacket, t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. Bear donned a sweatshirt and cargo pants. We paid for the clothes and left the store.

"Grab some lunch?" Bear pointed at a pizza place across the street.

I pulled out the paper Abbot gave me with Neil Delaney's number written on it.

"Yeah, let's eat, and then I'll call our contact."

We sat at a table on the front patio. A black gate stretched out and separated the open air dining area from the sidewalk. Pedestrians walked by with their heads tilted back, noses in the air, taking in the smell of fresh baked pizza. A waitress with straight brown hair and very little makeup came to our table. We ordered a large cheese pizza and two beers. The air was cool and the smell of melted cheese, rising crust, and tomato sauce overwhelmed my senses. It felt like a perfect day. It would be a perfect day if it weren't for the fact we were trying to save our lives.

Tourists, business people, and even politicians passed by. "Look," Bear said. "Robert Marlowe. Seen him on the news a lot over the last year. Deputy Secretary of Defense."

I watched the group of men approach. Marlowe walked in between two other men. He wore a blue suit, red striped tie, and a tan London Fog overcoat. His hair was a mix of silver and black, thin on top. He was clean shaven and wore thin glasses. He was tall and looked to be in good shape for a man his age. The men on either side were approximately the same age. I figured them to be politicians as well. Two Department of Defense agents followed close behind. They were younger than the three politicians and wore dark suits, dark glasses, and earpieces, just like you see in the movies. They scanned the street and sidewalk. I figured time moved in slow motion for them. They were trained to notice everything and take out a threat at a moment's notice.

"Wonder if he knows about us?" I said.

Bear smiled. "I could go ask."

"Find out if he'd never heard about our program. Can you imagine what that investigation would uncover if he hadn't?"

"Don't want to," Bear said shaking his head. He took a bite of thick crust, chewed on it for a moment, and then swallowed. "From what I gather," he wiped his face with a napkin, "this guy is big on Iraq, us getting involved over there. So who knows, maybe he does know about us. Maybe he's the reason we're there."

I watched the Deputy Secretary walk past us without batting an eye in our direction. One of the agents assigned to Marlowe appeared to take notice of me watching him. The agents gaze lingered on me longer than anyone or anything else he'd looked at. I glanced away, reaching into my inside coat pocket in an effort to give him something to think about. A moment later I looked up. They had kept walking and were fifty feet past our position. It looked like the agent had forgotten all about me. I knew looks could be deceiving, though.

The waitress dropped the bill on our table. I finished my beer and set the empty bottle on top of two twenty dollar bills so the breeze wouldn't blow them away. We exited the patio, and joined the stream of people walking toward the National Mall. We turned right on Pennsylvania Avenue and crossed the road at 15th Street, near the White House. I cut through the grassy area between 15th Street and the Presidential Park to get away from the crowds. Groups of trees were spaced out along the lawn, offering shade from the bright sun above.

I stopped near a fountain, looking around to make sure no one was within ear shot. Once I was sure the area was reasonably secure, I reached into my pocket, pulled out my cell phone and the paper with Delaney's number. My fingers punched the numbers on the keypad. I brought the phone to my head and heard the call connect.

A man answered on the third ring. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, is this Neil Delaney?"

"Who's this?"

"You don't know me, but we have a friend in common."

I looked over my shoulder and saw a couple walking hand in hand in my direction. I turned to the right and walked toward a tree.

"Who? Who's the friend?"

"Colonel Abbot," I said.

Delaney said nothing.

I looked around again, as if he were standing nearby. "You there?"

"How do you know Abbot?"

"He's my CO."

Delaney cleared his throat and continued in a hushed voice. "This isn't a safe conversation to have on the phone." He paused. "People are - uh, you know where the Lincoln Memorial is?"

"Yeah," I said. "I can find it."

"OK, you do that. Meet me there in forty-five minutes. Got it? Can you get there by then?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Stand on Abe's right side, fifth step from the top. Got it?"

"Right side facing him or his right side?"

Delaney sighed. "Facing. I got to go. Forty-five minutes. Be there. You got one shot."

"What do you mean one-" The call disconnected before I could finish. I shook my head, and tried not to read too much into Delaney's behavior. It was possible I caught him off guard and that's why he acted the way he did. I pushed away from the tree and started walking toward the park, on the lookout for Bear.

He found me first.

"How'd it go?"

I put the phone back in my pocket and turned to face him. "He knew something, that much was obvious." I looked past Bear, trying to figure out where he had been during the call. "The moment I said Abbot was my CO, Delaney freaked."

Bear leaned his head back, looked up at the tree in bloom. "What do you mean, freaked?"

"Went silent. Started whispering."

"Guess this won't be a wasted trip then, will it."

"We have to be at the Lincoln Memorial, forty-five minutes. Right side, fifth step from the top. He'll find us."

Bear pointed toward the Washington National Monument. "That's at the far end, past the monument there."

"Guess we should head over then."

* * *

It took twenty minutes to reach the Lincoln Memorial, which meant we had twenty some odd minutes to hang back. This was a great place for people watching. Didn't matter who they were, the Lincoln Memorial, of all places, had the ability to have a profound effect on its visitors.

I checked my watch and saw it was about time. "Let's go." We walked up three sets of stairs, staying to the right and stopped on the fifth step to the top. I leaned back against the handrail. An older woman gave me a look for blocking the railing, so I stepped to the side and let her pass.

"Wonder what this guy looks like," Bear said.

"Look for a suit."

"That's about twenty percent of the crowd."

"He'll find us. Relax."

"Like hell I will. You don't know who he might bring with him."

"Not by his tone, Bear."

Bear said nothing.

I scanned the incoming crowd looking for the mental image I had of the man I had spoken with on the phone forty minutes ago. A few people had the look, but weren't quite right. Then I spotted him.

"There," I said, my arm outstretched pointing to the base of the stairs. He stuck out like a sore thumb among all the tourists. And being that it was past lunchtime, a Fed this close to the memorial just didn't make sense.

"Who?"

"Silver and brown hair, a little thin on top, glasses. Kind of mousy looking, but in pretty good shape for his age."

"Got him," Bear said. "Tell you what," he looked back at me, "I'm going to hang back a bit. OK?"

"Good idea."

I kept my eyes focused on the middle aged man ascending the steps. He reached the middle of the longer stretch of sand colored stairs and looked up in my direction. He scanned the area and fixed his stare on me. He gave me a slight nod as he came to a stop.

I nodded back and checked the area around him, looking for any sign of a threat. I assumed he did the same.

He started in my direction again. He stopped two steps below me. He looked past me, said, "Neil Delaney."

I grabbed his hand and shook it. "Noble."

He nodded. "I've heard of you."

"I can't imagine that's a good thing."

He pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Big man back there is Bear. Riley Logan."

Delaney looked over my shoulder and acknowledged Bear. Then he held out his arm and said, "Let's move to the back."

We walked up the remaining stairs, turned right and took a path that led us behind four huge columns, stopping behind the fourth. There, we huddled close together.

"Any place less public we can go?" I asked.

Delaney shook his head. "This is the best place. For now." He looked over his shoulder. "Less chance something will go down here. Got it?"

"Yeah," I said. Paused and then added, "I got it."

"So you two are part of the operation, huh?"

I leaned back against the thick column, crossed my arms over my chest and nodded. "What do you know about it?"

Delaney hiked his shoulders, cocked his head. "A bit. CIA sponsored. They take Marines out of basic-"

"Recruit training," Bear interrupted.

"Yeah," Delaney said. "Whatever. Take fresh
recruits
," he looked at Bear and paused a second, "and then put them through their spec ops training. Turns you into well rounded operators that they can blame crap on when someone else screws up. You're crazy enough for the job, 'cause let's face it, you wouldn't have enlisted in the Marines unless you were crazy to begin with." He smiled and batted his eyes between us.

We didn't smile back.

"Yeah, well, anyway, so they get you before you're done. Before you've been completely brainwashed into that bullshit
oorah
culture. That was one of their initial design flaws. The first group to come through had been through basic, uh, recruit training and A school. They were Marines and it caused problems when you had a dick of a spec ops team leader. They scrapped the first wave. You guys were part of the next bunch. They hit the jackpot with you two and the others that came through around the same time. From 95 through early 2001 you pretty much handled domestic stuff that the CIA couldn't legally touch," he waved his hand in a semi-circle for emphasis, "and occasionally a friendly nation. You always traveled two by four, two of you, four of them. You spent some time in South America. Columbia, if I'm not mistaken?"

I nodded. He had done his research, or was more involved in this than Abbot let on.

He continued. "Then the attacks happened and you were re-prioritized. Almost all of you were shifted from here and friendlies to the Middle East. I'd say eighty percent of you guys went to Afghanistan chasing Bin Laden and the Taliban. But not you, though. You're in Iraq, right?"

I nodded again.

"So over there you're-"

"Look," I said. "I appreciate the history lesson, but we got a situation going on here. Someone is setting us up and we don't know who. We go through Abbot and Keller in the Marines and then to the CIA. It's not Abbot. It's not Keller. So it must be someone in the CIA. Can you help?"

He took a deep breath, held it a moment and then exhaled loudly, letting his lips flapped as his puffed out cheeks decompressed. "I can't say much more than I have. Not here."

"Who are you with?" I said.

Delaney flashed a crooked smile as he held out his arms and shrugged.

"You're not CIA, not the way you referred to the program being sponsored. Definitely not FBI. We wouldn't be talking to you if you were."

Delaney chuckled and shook his head vigorously.

I continued. "NSA?"

He continued shaking his head. "No, Jack. Not CIA, FBI, or NSA. Look, who I'm with isn't important. The information I have is what's important."

"Then let's have it."

"Not here, Jack. I guarantee you they are out there, watching us right now. They've probably been watching every move you've made since leaving Camp Lejeune."

I fought the urge to look around. It appeared Bear was doing the same. I saw him cast his stare toward the ground.

"Give me an idea of what it is then," I said.

"I'm not quite sure what it is. Well, I wasn't sure. I think I know now. What I can tell you is there is some shady stuff going on, guys. Very shady. I have some documents for you." He paused. "I didn't know what I was looking at until today. Not till your call. You mentioned Abbot and everything came to me. I uncovered this stuff not too long ago. But it didn't make sense. Got it?"

"No," I said. "I don't got it."

"It's going to make sense tonight." He took a few steps backward. "Wait for my call. Tonight, Jack. I'll bring the documents you need."

I watched him go down the stairs, then cut diagonally across the mall and disappear out of sight.

"Ready to go?" Bear asked.

"Nah," I said. "Let's wait a few. Find a good tourist group to assimilate into."

Bear laughed loudly. "I'm six-six, you're six-two. We don't assimilate anywhere we go, Jack."

Delaney called shortly after six p.m. He told us to meet him at nine that night at a park in McLean, Virginia. At eight o'clock we went to the garage, got in the Audi, and left downtown DC. Took I-495 heading west and got off on the Georgetown Pike. Grabbed a bite to eat at a fast food joint then headed west. The entrance to Scotts Run Nature Preserve was less than a mile from the interstate. I parked the car in the deserted parking lot, choosing a spot close to the access road that led in and out of the park. I rolled my window down and cut the engine.

We sat in silence for ten minutes, looking and listening. The empty parking lot indicated all visitors had left before we arrived. The sound of an occasional car passed from the Georgetown Pike behind us. We were hidden from view. That worried me. We would be out of sight if this was a setup or if we had been followed.