Capitol Reflections (46 page)
“But sir—”
“The rest of the Tabula Rasa force is moving into place right now,” the man said, coughing.
Randall took a deep breath. “Yes, sir, but some of the troublemakers are important people. We can’t just eradicate them, at least not all at once.”
“Some can disappear, Gregory. A couple can have fatal accidents. Another is already in the process of being discredited. I don’t like this any more than you, but I have confidence in my personnel.”
“Of course, sir. I just thought I’d alert you in case you didn’t already know.”
“Good-bye, Gregory,” said the raspy voice.
Gregory looked across his spacious, modern office, sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. He reached across his desk, pushed a button, and curtains bunched in the corners automatically began to close.
Bright light was hell on migraines.
Mark put away his cell phone and glanced up at the people before him, all packed and ready to leave the bed-and-breakfast. “A friend in New York says that Henry Broome has stepped up efforts to locate me and serve me with a subpoena very soon if I don’t step forward and testify before his Senate committee. The rumors of my alleged drug abuse are also starting to make the rounds of talk shows. I may become a liability to everyone here overnight.”
“We’ll just have to hope that we can make some serious headway as quickly as possible so nobody here has to stay in hiding for much longer,” said Rick. “We’ve obviously disturbed a sleeping giant; either we’ll play David with five smooth stones, or the giant’s going to have us for lunch.”
Rick, Gwen, Mark, and Karn decided to use Rick’s Suburban, which the congressman had parked out front while Mark and Peter were in Panama. Jan and Peter would take Rick’s Honda. They’d all go to the Capitol and then, as Rick had suggested, wind their way through various tunnels and passages until they could resurface and drive to the congressman’s home in Alexandria, Virginia.
They stepped outside the bed-and-breakfast. As soon as Mark saw the two dark blue cars parked in the middle of the street, he knew things would not go as planned. Men wearing blue satin wind-breakers stood on the sidewalk.
“Federal agents, Mr. Stern,” said a tall, lanky man holding a bullhorn, indicating that he’d planned to order Mark from the premises if he had not soon appeared. “Come with us, sir. The rest of you, please continue on your way. This is a federal operation. Interference will be met with an arrest.”
“What’s the charge?” asked Mark.
“You’ve been subpoenaed to appear before the Senate Committee on Agriculture.” The officer stepped forward and handed Mark the subpoena.
“Wait a minute, Officer,” Mecklenberg interrupted. “I’m an elected member of the House of Representatives. Since when have officers of the executive branch done errands on behalf of the legislative?”
“Sorry to bother you with this, Congressman, although you may have some people asking you about the company you keep.” The agent swept his eyes across the small gathering and then looked again at Rick. “Think of this as a kind of courtesy for the Capitol police. We have an arrest warrant for Mr. Stern based on the drugs found in a lawful search of his apartment. A Senate committee also wants to ask him questions on other matters. As soon as he’s finished testifying, he’ll be taken to a federal magistrate for arraignment.” The tall agent turned to Mark. “At which point you’ll be charged with felony possession of narcotics with intent to distribute.”
Mark could barely believe what he was hearing. Getting in this car could make his recent Jeep ride seem like a Sunday drive.
“Better do as he says,” Rick advised. “We’ll spring you somehow.”
Mark looked at Gwen. If she’d been concerned for him before, she was now borderline panicked. For the first time in his life, Mark genuinely believed he might never see her again. He wanted to say something, but his mind raced too much to form any words.
Rick stepped forward and shook hands with his friend, but said nothing. Mark palmed the folded piece of paper that passed between them like a rock star taking a groupie’s phone number. Then, with one last glance at Gwen, he got into the car.
The blue cars disappeared, leaving the other five standing on the street stunned.
“What just happened here?” asked Edward Karn.
“Nothing legal,” answered Peter. “Those men weren’t federal agents. They showed no ID and they didn’t read Mark his rights. Also, if they had a drug case against him, they wouldn’t have told him where they found the narcotics. The whole thing was a charade to apprehend Mark.”
“Staged by whom?” asked Gwen.
“The logical answer would be Henry Broome,” said Jan.
Rick looked skeptical. “Henry may have something to do with it, but he’s probably part of something much larger. Senators have enormous power, but I doubt that Henry is acting alone. He has to have some heavy hitters working with him.”
“I’d vote for Gregory Randall,” Peter said. “We know that Pequod’s is somehow involved.”
“Maybe,” responded Rick, “but even Randall and Henry together couldn’t hide seizures, plus the entire Transpac angle—the false receipts, the sex slaves. They’ve got to have some kind of government help.”
“The intelligence community?” asked Peter.
“Perhaps,” said Rick. “Four out of five Americans think the CIA whacked Kennedy.”
“I don’t know much about conspiracies,” offered Karn, “but I think we’d better be on our way if those gentlemen who took Mark weren’t on the up-and-up.”
There were nods all around.
“Let’s proceed to the Capitol,” suggested Rick, “but once we’re there, we’ll have to change plans. They know I’m involved—whoever they are—so I’m going to see if we can crash at a friend’s hunting lodge deep in the woods. My house isn’t safe anymore.”
“Can we stop off at my office so I can gather some additional research?” asked Karn.
“If you think it’s absolutely necessary,” said Rick.
Karn looked at Gwen.
“It’s necessary,” Gwen said. “Let’s go.”
64
“Gotta pee.”
The tall man wearing the blue windbreaker turned around and looked through the wire screen into the backseat of his sedan. “What’s your problem, pal?”
“Clean out the ear wax,” Mark said condescendingly. “I have to take a leak.”
“Hold it in, Stern.”
“Now!” replied Mark defiantly. “I’ll do it here on the seat or you can pull over to the nearest convenience store. How much escaping can I do with my zipper down?”
Mark knew that the only leverage he had was to create some confusion. If he could get the agents flustered, he might be able to think of something.
“I’m gonna count to five and then let loose,” said Mark. “Unless you want the back of your car permanently marked as my territory, you’re going to find a toilet for me, and you’re going to find it fast.”
Letting out a sigh, the man in the front seat looked at his driver.
“Pull over into that gas station on the right,” he ordered. “We’ll let him do his business and then get moving again.”
The driver pulled into the Shell station and killed the engine. Mark and the man from the passenger seat walked into the station’s convenience store. “Federal agent,” proclaimed the man in the windbreaker to the cashier. “Got a can in here?”
The young girl behind the counter motioned to a door in a narrow hall to the left of the beer cooler without even bothering to look in their direction.
Mark walked into the tiny restroom … and so did his captor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mark said sharply.
“I don’t let anyone out of my sight when they’re in my custody.”
“Gimme a break. I’m pee shy.”
“You are one massive pain in the ass, Stern,” the man said bitterly. “I’ll be standing right outside the door.”
Three minutes passed. Then five. Stern didn’t come out.
“What in the hell is wrong with that guy?” asked the lanky man, pushing open the cheap splintered door to the restroom.
The small cubicle was empty.
The man dashed to the counter of the convenience store, glancing quickly across the aisles. “Hey,” he said to the cashier. “Where’s that guy I came in with?”
The girl shrugged.
“Damn! Is there a back door?”
“Why do you want to know?”
The man flashed a wallet ID for a split second. It was enough to make the girl lose the attitude.
“There’s a receiving door in the back. That’s the only other way in or out.”
The man’s windbreaker spread like wings as he raced outside to his partner. “The son of a bitch is gone. You stay here and keep your eyes peeled. I’m going around back.”
Stern was nowhere. The man looked everywhere—among the cardboard boxes and in between the stacks of heavy plastic delivery cartons used to hold gallons and half-gallons of milk. He looked left and saw a car wash. The wall of another store was to his right. Behind the convenience store was a wooden fence that separated the station from a residential area.
“Shit,” he said, kicking angrily at a candy wrapper on the ground. “Where in the hell did the bastard go? Is he some type of freakin’ magician? I was outside the door the entire time.”
He hurried back to the front and ran through the car wash before returning to the blue sedan. “Let’s roll,” he said, hopping onto the front seat. “We’ll make a pass up and down the block and then go through the neighborhood behind the store. He could have gone into any one of a dozen yards by now. I’m calling for backup.”
He took out a cell phone and within minutes, there were two more cars on the search.
“Knock on every door if you have to, but find that SOB.”
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