Camel Club 05 - Hell's Corner Read online

  “When?”

  “When he was in college. He was already on a couple of our watch lists. We believe he went over there to hook up with a group that specializes in mass disinformation campaigns on the Internet.”

  “But nothing violent?” asked Chapman.

  “No, but the nonviolent can quickly become violent. We’ve all seen that.”

  “The U.S. government building,” added Stone. “Someone had access to that, and I don’t believe it was John Kravitz.”

  The director nodded thoughtfully. “And Special Agent Gross actually told you that he feared his own people were spying on him?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Chapman nodded in agreement.

  Stone added, “An agent from the ATF told us the same thing.”

  The director said, “Garchik.”

  “Yes. Have they found out what this mysterious component to the bomb is yet?”

  “Not to my knowledge, no.”

  Stone’s mouth opened slightly and he sat forward. “To your knowledge, sir?”

  The director looked nervous for the first time since they’d arrived in the room. He glanced at the ADIC and nodded to the door. The man did not seem pleased by this unspoken directive, and then looked positively put out when the director stopped Ashburn from joining him. After the door had closed behind the ADIC, the director leaned forward. “Something is going on here that is unprecedented in my experience.”

  “There’s a traitor in the ranks,” Stone said.

  “More than that, I’m afraid. Worse than that.”

  Stone started to ask how anything could be worse than having a traitor in your midst, but then he remembered what McElroy had told him.

  Things can always be worse.

  The director cleared his throat. “There is something going on inside our government that… that does not mesh very well with the way we do things.”

  “Meaning what exactly, sir?” asked Stone.

  The director rubbed his hands together.

  “Some of us appear to be working at cross-purposes.”

  “Some of us?” asked Chapman blankly.

  “Agent Garchik is missing.”

  “What?” Stone said sharply.

  “And the mysterious debris component that he found at the park has also gone missing.”

  “How is that possible?” asked Chapman.

  “I’m not sure. It was outside our chain of command.”

  “But the Bureau is the lead agency,” pointed out Stone.

  “But ATF was taking the lead on the bomb forensics.”

  “But an agent and evidence going missing is very unusual,” said Stone.

  “Yes, of course it is,” the director said sharply.

  “Any leads?” asked Chapman.

  “No, we just found out about it, actually. We have teams going over the scene.”

  “Where was he taken from?”

  “Not exactly sure. He’s divorced, lives alone. His car is missing.”

  “Signs of a struggle?”

  “Not definitive.”

  “No communications?”

  “Neither from Garchik nor from whoever might have taken him.”

  “Might have?” asked Chapman.

  “We can’t rule out that he left voluntarily.”

  “Who reported him missing?”

  “His supervisor.”

  Stone said, “Who reported the evidence missing?”

  “His supervisor as well. When Garchik didn’t make his routine check-in, he became worried. One of the things he did was examine the evidence locker.”

  “Garchik told us that NASA was being called in to try and ID the debris.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that.”

  Stone sat back as Ashburn said, “This is all really stunning.”

  “The media can’t get wind of any of this,” said the director firmly. “All statements will go through my office. Is that understood?”

  “I don’t talk to reporters,” said Stone, as Chapman nodded in agreement.

  The director motioned to Ashburn. “Agent Ashburn will be taking over the lead on the investigation. You will work directly with her.”

  Ashburn and Stone exchanged a glance. Stone thought he saw the woman attempt a smile.

  “That’s fine,” said Stone. “I look forward to it.”

  “Agent Ashburn here told me you were up for the Medal of Honor for your service in Vietnam.”

  “I was offered it, yes.”

  “But turned it down. Why?”

  “I didn’t think I deserved it.”

  “But your country did. Isn’t that enough?”

  “No sir, it’s actually not.”

  CHAPTER 49

  “REUBEN?”

  The large man opened his eyes and stared straight up.

  Stone gazed down at him. “Docs say you’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Great. I don’t have health insurance. So let me just declare bankruptcy right now. Oh, that’s right. Bankruptcy is for people who actually have property.”

  “I can see you’re feeling better already.”

  This came from Annabelle, who had been planted in the chair ever since Reuben had been admitted. She rose and stood next to the bed.

  Stone said, “Your bill is being taken care of.”

  “By who?”

  “Uncle Sam.”

  “Why? Did he bail out the loading dock where I work too?”

  “Just get some rest.”

  “Did you find those guys?”

  Stone shook his head. “The area had been pretty well sterilized.”

  Annabelle said, “So you’re still on the job?”

  “For now.”

  “What else can we do?”

  “I think you’ve both done enough.”

  “We didn’t learn very much that was new,” she said.

  “No, you actually helped shine a whole new light on everything.”

  “Russians?” said Reuben. “Are the bastards really behind this?”

  “Looks to be the case.”

  “Why?” asked Annabelle. “I thought they were our ally now.”

  “Allies come and allies go. And it might not be the Russian government, per se.”

  “I called Harry and Caleb. They’re coming over later to see Reuben. Well, Harry said he would if you thought it was okay to take some time off his assignment.”

  “I think that would be fine. Please let him know.”

  As he turned to leave, Annabelle put an arm around his shoulders and said in a low voice, “Please take care of yourself. We almost lost Reuben.” Her eyes glimmered and Stone touched her cheek.

  “I will, Annabelle.”

  Chapman was waiting for Stone in the hospital lobby. They walked to her car and drove off.

  “Well, the meeting with the FBI really gobsmacked me,” she said.

  “The fact that we’re still on the case, or something else?”

  “The fact that your director seemed very much out of the loop.”

  “And I’m wondering why.”

  “What do you think happened to Garchik and that evidence?”

  “I don’t know, but I think where we’ll find one we’ll find the other.”

  “You think he’s a bad cop?”

  Stone didn’t answer right away. “No, I don’t. I think he may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Lot of that going around. Look at Alfredo Padilla. And Agent Gross.”

  “Right.”

  “So the question becomes, if someone is keeping things from the director of the FBI, who could have that kind of clout?”

  Stone looked at her. “I need to try and see someone today.”

  “Who?”

  “Just someone.”

  “Is it important?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is this person?”

  “Well, he lives right across from Lafayette Park.”

  CHAPTER 50

  IT WAS NOT AN EASY THI
NG to get in to see the president of the United States without an appointment. In fact, it was virtually impossible. The man’s work schedule would put anyone else’s in the world to shame. On Air Force One he could cover multiple countries in one day and be home in time for a state dinner and then some late-night phone lobbying with his cohorts on Capitol Hill.

  Thus Stone was very surprised to be sitting in a helicopter as it was flown across the Maryland countryside. It touched down in the craw of the Catoctin Mountains where a three-car motorcade took him the rest of the way to Camp David, perhaps the best-protected parcel of land in the world.

  This did make sense, thought Stone. Meeting at Camp David was far more private than walking the halls of the White House. As the motorcade entered the confines of Camp David and a ramrod-straight Marine in dress blues met him, Stone wondered exactly how he was going to broach the subject with the man. And what his reaction would be.

  Well, I’m just about to find the answers to those questions.

  He stood in a small wood-paneled room alone. But not for long. The door opened and there was the president dressed casually in corduroy pants and a checked shirt with loafers on his feet. He held a pair of glasses in one hand and a BlackBerry phone held up to his ear in the other.

  He glanced at Stone standing there and motioned for him to take a seat. The president finished his call in low murmurs, slid the phone in his shirt pocket, poured a cup of coffee from a pot set up on a side table and poured one for Stone too. He handed him the cup and sat down, sliding his glasses over his face.

  “Lost a contact,” said Brennan. “Backup glasses until they get my other pair. Can’t face the public in glasses. They don’t like that.”

  Stone thought about that and it did occur to him that he couldn’t remember seeing a president with glasses on during a public event.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to see me on such short notice, sir.”

  The president leaned back and scrutinized him. “I’m sure you know why I did. The sense of urgency is compelling. We seem to be spiraling right out of control on this. Every day there’s a new crisis. Made any sense of it yet?”

  “Some. But there are a lot of new questions.”

  “Give me a quick debrief.”

  Stone did so, leaving out nothing, including the attack at his cottage and about Fuat Turkekul.

  “I know I’m not telling you anything you aren’t aware of,” he said.

  The president nodded. “The PM and I are very close.”

  “James McElroy also plays by the rules.”

  “An impressive man. Always seems to know more than anyone else, myself and his prime minister included, I think.”

  “The mark of a good intelligence officer,” commented Stone. “But keeping me in the dark on that did cost us time.”

  “I’m aware of that, but it couldn’t be helped,” he said brusquely.

  “I understand.”

  “Some good has come out of this,” said Brennan.

  “Sir?” asked Stone with a questioning look.

  In response the president picked up a remote and hit a button. A part of the wall slid open, revealing a flat-screen TV. The president touched another button and the TV came on. “This was recorded earlier,” he explained.

  Stone watched as the image of Carmen Escalante appeared. She looked even smaller and her leg braces even bigger on the screen than in person. She was being interviewed about the death of her beloved uncle and her own personal plight with her medical issues.

  “Word has really spread about this, causing two things to happen. We’re holding a joint memorial service for Mr. Padilla and Agent Gross. The president of Mexico is flying up for the ceremony. And, second, private donors have stepped in to pay for Ms. Escalante’s operations for her legs.”

  “That’s very nice.”

  “As you probably know, relations with Mexico have been strained due to the immigration issue among other things. However, things have thawed a bit with what happened to Padilla. I know he’s an accidental hero, but he still lost his life. And we need heroes wherever we can find them. The story has gotten favorable play in Mexico and here. The people of our two nations have come together a little bit more. It’s positive, or so my aides tell me. Something to build on for the future. That’s one of the major reasons we’re holding the joint memorial service.”

  He hit more buttons and the TV turned off and the wall slid back into place. He put the remote down and leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee.

  “Which brings us to today.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “All right. I think it’s now time for me to ask why you wanted to meet.”

  “I know you’re a busy man so I’ll get right to it.” Stone paused, but only for a moment. “Could you tell me where Agent Garchik is? And what happened to the evidence that went missing with him? Because I know you have the answers to both those questions.”

  CHAPTER 51

  PRESIDENT BRENNAN AND OLIVER STONE stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time. Stone had engaged in such protracted battles of will before with people he considered his employers. The key was never to break eye contact. If you did they interpreted that as a sign of weakness and would pounce. They all had this skill; that was why they were in leadership positions.

  “I beg your pardon?” the president said, but there was a slight hitch in his voice that was compelling in its disclosure of what the man was truly thinking.

  Stone didn’t answer. He just kept staring at the man, as though he could see the content of every synapse firing. Stone had to convey through this silence that he knew everything, though some of it was only speculation.

  He waited.

  Brennan said nothing else, his gaze intensifying briefly, but then slowly the burn faded. He stood.

  “Let’s take a walk, Stone. I think we need to come to an understanding, and I need to stretch my legs.”

  Stone followed him outside after the president slipped on a jacket. The security detail accompanied them, keeping both men encircled at the center of a hard diamond formed by the Secret Service agents. The men and women of the security detail were dressed casually in deference to their boss’s clothes and the rustic surroundings.

  The president spoke in a low voice as they made their way along a trail in the woods over which many past presidents had trod.

  “Love it up here. Recharge. Forget my troubles, so to speak, at least for a little while.”

  Stone’s gaze drifted right and left and up ahead as the agents kept to their marks precisely. Camp David in truth was even better protected than the White House. It was in the middle of rugged terrain, and its perimeter defenders, a large detachment of highly trained Marines, would be able to see any adversary coming long in advance.

  The president drew so close to Stone that their elbows touched. Stone automatically looked around to see if the Secret Service agents had an issue with that. However, since their boss had initiated the proximity, the security detail just kept trudging along.

  “Stone, we have a problem.”

  “The debris. Do we know what it is yet?”

  “Have you ever heard of nanobots?”

  “Nanotechnology? I’ve read about it in the newspapers. That’s about the extent of my knowledge.”

  “Damnedest things. It’s already in our clothes, foods, cosmetics, appliances, lots of things. And most people have no idea it’s even there. Half the scientists think it’s perfectly safe. And the other half say we don’t know enough and it could have unforeseen and possibly disastrous long-term consequences.”

  “So they found some of these nanobots in the debris? But I thought they were microscopic?”

  “They are. They were only revealed after being put under the scope.”

  “Why would they have been there? What would be the purpose in the context of a bomb?”

  The president smiled resignedly. “There’s the rub, Stone. We don’t know. What we think is that someone out
there has come up with a new application that uses nanotechnology in ways that were never intended.”

  “You mean for criminal or terrorism purposes?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are people speculating? I mean, for why the nanobots were there? There must be some theories.”

  “There are. The most popular one is also the most chilling. That theory involves some sort of contagion being grafted onto the explosive. When the bomb exploded it released this contagion that is now in the system of everyone who’s been at that park. And they’ve unwittingly carried it on to others.”

  Stone flinched and moved away from the man. “I’ve been to that park. I was knocked over by the blast. I could be contaminated. You shouldn’t be near me.”

  “I’ve already been exposed, Stone. Through Agent Gross, Garchik and others. Hell, the FBI director was out there too. But I can tell you that I’ve had every test known to the doctors and they’ve given me a clean bill of health.”

  “Is there any evidence of the existence of such a contagion on the debris?”

  “Not that we know. But you know what they’re telling me now? That the damn nanobots have the ability to invade and actually change certain molecular structures of other substances. This ‘transformation’ can leave the substances in their original form, but it can change them subtly enough to make identifying them much harder. So right now we don’t believe there’s a contagion problem, but the truth is we don’t know for certain. We’re not even sure what to test for. So all the things the doctors checked me for may be worthless. And furthermore, they could have used nanobots to produce a totally new contagion. It’s like my grandkids playing whack-a-mole. You hit at one hole and the damn thing shows up in another.”

  “And Agent Garchik?” he said.

  “We thought it best to remove him from the field for a while. He’s currently at an ATF safe house in—”

  Stone put up a hand. “I’d prefer not to know the exact location.”

  “You mean?”

  “In case someone tries to get it from me. Yes.”

  “Dangerous times, Stone. Uncertain times.”

  “Enemies closer.”

  “Right. If only we knew exactly who they were anymore. It’s getting harder and harder on that score.”