Dual Assassins (12 page)

With cold eyes Reanna held up the pistol high over the table for all to see and gazed at each person at the table. She then focused on Bruce and slung the pistol down the table. It skidded to a stop in front of Mac. Mac picked it up, pulled back the slide and examined its firing mechanism, then returned it to the table.

Bruce slowly shook his head and said with a rise in vocal pitch, “Uh…I don’t know how that happened.”

Reanna’s eyes remained locked on Bruce. After a short pause she continued, “There was also a tracking device in the bottom of the cape.” You said you had the cape made especially for me. Do you know how that happened?” Her nostrils flared and she leaned farther over the table.

With a dazed look, Bruce vigorously shook his head, then crossed his arms. “I don’t know, I don’t know. I’ll have to check on that.”

Jim frowned and his faced turned red as his neck veins pulsated. He glared at Bruce with narrowed eyes and said, “What about that BARNUM?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” responded Bruce and his face turned pale as he returned Jim’s stare. “I think we should end this meeting right now. I want to see you in my office immediately.”

With a slight grin, Jim shook his head and said, “I don’t think so. This meeting isn’t finished by any means.”

Bruce sat up and started to respond but Mac interceded and held up his hand like a traffic cop toward Bruce and said, “Proceed, Jim.”

“It took me a while to figure it out. In Denny’s dying breath, he told me he worked for Barnum. I couldn’t figure that out at first but it finally came to me. Just like P.T. Barnum of the circus fame, P.T also stands for Paul T. Just like Bruce ‘Paul’ T. Hemphill.”

Some mouths dropped and after a few gasps, the room became quiet. The absence of sound became almost deafening. Nobody moved a muscle. It appeared as if they were watching a tennis match, heads turning in unison from Jim to Bruce then back to Jim again.

“Yes, everything points to you, Barnum,” said Jim. “How many American deaths are you responsible for?”

Bruce frowned and stared blankly at the table. After a short pause, he slowly raised his head and stared at Jim with watery eyes. “I served my country well for years. This country is a better place as a result of my work. All I wanted was to make some extra money to supplement my admiral’s retirement check. That’s all I wanted to do…that’s all.”

Frenchy and Lenny got up from the table and approached Bruce. Bruce swiftly pulled out a revolver from his jacket, pointed it at Frenchy and Lenny and said, “Get back.”

Both men stopped in their tracks. Their eyes opened wide. They remained still as if they were glued to the floor.

Mac said, “We can work this out, Bruce, put that thing away.”

Bruce rested his hand on the table while holding the pistol, aiming the pistol straight down the table. “Don’t anyone move.”

“Bruce, put the gun away,” said Mac sitting at Bruce’s right. “We can work something out. Come on, don’t threaten anybody here. They didn’t do anything to you.”

Bruce sat frozen with a far off stare. It was obvious that some of the group didn’t know whether they should rush Bruce or quickly race from the room.

In one motion, Bruce raised the pistol as his mouth dropped open and he stuck the barrel to the roof of his mouth.

Someone yelled, “No, no.”

Then someone screamed.

Bruce pulled the trigger. The loud report from the .45 caliber pistol echoed throughout the room and blood with small pieces of brain matter splattered upward all over the wall behind him. Bruce fell backwards in his chair. His head flipped back as if he was staring at the ceiling. The room remained quiet; everyone stared in disbelief.

In recognition of
his many years of military service, Bruce Hemphill was buried in Arlington National Cemetery with only a few people in attendance. Frank Henderson spoke to the joint session of Congress and presented short segments of his heroics in South Korea and how he could have prevented the current war if he had travelled earlier.

Jim and Reanna were debriefed over a two-day period and enjoyed being together once again as husband and wife. They walked into the conference room for their final meeting before departing for their St. Louis flight. They entered a different conference room. MacDonald was already seated at the head of the table while Frenchy Cormier was seated next to him on the side.

“Come on in, guys,” said Mac and waved his arm for them to sit on the other side of the table. When they sat down, Mac said, “I bet you’re excited about returning home to St. Louis.”

“No doubt about that,” replied Jim while Reanna smiled and nodded.

Mac’s smile soon disappeared when he opened a folder in front of him. He looked up, pulled in a deep breath then slowly released it and focused on Jim. “There’s a party planned in two days at the Base Hotel in St. Louis and you two need to be there.”

“What?” said Jim. “A party? We completed our mission, what’s with a party?”

Mac leaned into the table with a pensive expression and eyed Reanna, then focused on Jim. Frenchy leaned back in his chair and smiled.

“Yes, a party,” said Mac. “You did complete your mission and we are very happy about that. However, your picture was plastered in the St. Louis newspaper for being arrested for breaking and entering, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“That was all taken care of with the local law enforcement folks, but we need to further dispel that image for the benefit of your cover at S & S.”

“Jesus, Mac,” said Jim with a glassy stare.

Mac paused for a moment then continued, “You have been involved in the expansion planning at S & S. When it’s completed, it will make your facility twice its current size. The construction begins in two days and this party will be the kick-off celebration. Business and financial leaders along with the mayor and his staff will also be there.

“But Mac—”

“It’s necessary for you to rebuild your reputation in the city and regain your popularity. We will consider that party as the final chapter of your mission.”

Jim leaned back in his chair and lowered his eyes, then with a halfhearted shrug muttered, “Whatever….”

Reanna bit her lip and shook her head but remained silent. She reached under the table for Jim’s hand and in a soft tone said, “It’s okay, hon.”

Mac rested his elbows on the table, formed his hands into a steeple and brought them to his lips. He looked at Jim, then at Reanna, and back at Jim before he lowered his arms and continued, “We have information that indicates Kim Woong-Nanyg will be contacting you soon in St. Louis.”

Jim shot back, “Now what?”

Mac continued, “We’ll give you the information to pass on to Kim…information that we want to pass on to the Russians. If we can do this, it will slow down Russian progress in weapon development. It’s important, Jim. Our country needs this time to increase our advantage over the Russians. Actually, it’s important for our survival.”

“I understand, but will that be my only involvement?”

“Um…well…ah…it’s a little premature to have that answer, but we need your help.”

Jim looked at Reanna and she pulled out a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her running makeup. Her eyes glistened with moisture. She returned Jim’s gaze and without uttering a word nodded yes.

Frenchy looked across the table, “It won’t be a formal event like last time but business attire will be the norm. The arrangements have already been made and you can check with Carl for additional information. He’s been spearheading the event with our support.”

Mac looked at Jim and said, “Sam King, your production manager will be picking you up at the airport.”

“That’s good.”

With a wide grin, Frenchy said, “I understand he was your best man at your wedding.”

“Yes, he was, and you missed one heck of a party that night.”

Mac took a deep gratifying breath then said, “We have some information being put together now which will be available for you tomorrow at S & S.”

“It will be broken down in two sections,” said Frenchy. “The first section will be the update of your building construction plans and progress and your involvement in its planning during the past few weeks. The second section will be data that we recommend you share with Mr. Kim. “Of course, after you’ve read the data, it’s imperative that it be shredded.”

“I’ll also be at the party,” said Mac. “We should have an opportunity to chat at S & S the following day.”

Jim only murmured, “God help us.”

After returning to
St. Louis, Jim spent the following day at S & S Engineering and studied the data from the Agency. It also included a short dossier on Kim Woong-Nanyg who was born and raised in Beijing, then spent many years in Russia working with the KGB.

Reanna stayed home her first day back and was glad to see the living room window had been replaced. She spent several hours shopping and replenishing the household supplies. When Jim returned home from work, they both enjoyed an excellent home-cooked meal and spent a quiet evening together. However, they refused to sit on the living room sofa.

* * *

Reanna looked like a model the following day, wearing a tight-waisted black rayon sleeveless dress with a mid-flair ending at her calves. She held Jim’s arm as they entered the Base Hotel. They walked down the hallway toward the music that played in the Cotillion Room. Jim stopped momentarily at the open doorway and perused the nearly 100 people that filled the room. Many were already seated at round tables covered in white table cloths while others stood immersed in individual conversations. Most of them directed their attention to Jim and Reanna when they entered the room.

Carl, wearing his usual black suit, white shirt and tie, stood near the entrance. He approached Jim and Reanna and shook Jim’s hand, “Welcome,” then reached over and gave Reanna a peck on the cheek and said, “Welcome home, Reanna.”

“Thank you.” Reanna turned and scanned the room, amazed to see the large number of people.

“Hello, captain.”

Jim turned around toward the voice and shook the hand of Ollie Kiefer, the mayor of St. Louis. “Welcome back, captain,” he said.

“Well, we’re helping to build up our fine city, Ollie.”

“Yes, yes,” said Kiefer. “I appreciate that and I’m sure the city appreciates that too.”

“Come on Jim…Reanna, come with me,” said Carl and they left the mayor and walked to the front of the room. Carl began to speak into the microphone mounted on a stand. “May I have your attention please?” The crowd settled down and became quiet. “Most of you have previously met Jim and Reanna Wilson. Well, Jim is the main person behind the design of our new facility.”

The guy had to be kidding. He didn’t know anything about it.

The attendees politely applauded. When the applause died down, Carl continued, “We will break ground first thing tomorrow morning. We have a wonderful meal planned for you tonight which will be served shortly. The band will also play for your enjoyment…and there will be dancing later too,” which brought a few chuckles from the crowd. Carl turned to Jim and said over the microphone, “Come say a few words, Jim.”

Jim rolled his eyes and sneered at Carl but when he approached the microphone, he wore a pleasant smile as he faced the audience. “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. This is the start of something big here in the city and we’re happy to help the city grow as we grow. We will be adding another twenty-two thousand square feet of a modern addition to our building with the latest technology. Microwave business is booming. Are there any questions I may answer for you?”

Someone at a near table said, “I understand you traveled to Washington, D.C. to work on the latest design. Is that true?”

Jim had a strange empty stare and said, “Um….” and he looked at Reanna who stood nearby with a big grin, a tear trickling down her face as she fought back the urge to break out with one of her loud laughs.

Jim turned back, faced the audience and said with the utmost of confidence, “Yes that’s true, I spent nearly two weeks in D.C. and was influenced by some Asian designs which will leave a lasting impression on me. We hope to incorporate some of those design elements into our building. Thank you all for coming and enjoy your evening.”

Jim, Reanna and Carl walked to a reserved round table. Reanna was unable to hold back her amusement any longer. She held her hand over her mouth and giggled, then leaned toward Jim, “Hey, nice recovery.”

Their table was also occupied by Ollie Kiefer, his wife, Ruth, and Bob MacDonald.

The normal chit-chat took place throughout the room while everyone enjoyed a magnificent dinner. The band began to play and a few couples were already swaying on the dance floor.

Jim excused himself from the table and headed for the Men’s Room. He meandered through some of the tables, briefly chatting with some guests while on his way.

Jim stood at the urinal as another man entered the room and stood at the next urinal.

“Congratulations, Mr. Wilson,” the tall, thin dark-haired man said.

“Thank you…and you are?”

“Dan, Dan Duffy.”

That name sounded familiar “Who are you with?” Jim walked over to the wash basin.

“I’m with the FBI.”

“Oh good, glad you could make it.” Jim began to wash his hands. Dan left the urinal and Jim sensed sudden movement behind him. Jim spun around. Dan held a knife which he was flashing toward Jim’s abdomen. Jim gripped Dan’s arm with both hands and twisted his arm high in the air then slammed it down on the granite counter top. The knife went flying. Dan swung his left arm around Jim’s neck and began to pull him backward. Jim slammed his elbow back into Dan’s stomach. “Oomph,” went Dan as his air rushed out. But he wasn’t incapacitated. Jim twisted around and Dan punched him hard on his jaw. He didn’t expect that. The sudden pain vibrated his head. Dan charged. Jim quickly sidestepped. They both exchanged punches. Dan swung a big roundhouse punch. Jim ducked, then quickly dropped into a crouching position, lunging up and smashing into Dan like a football player. Dan reeled backward, crashed against a stall door, then fell through. He attempted to jump up but Jim was on top of him. Jim struck the man’s head with an open hand, then shoved his head down into the toilet bowl. Jim held Dan’s head under the water with both hands. Arms flailed but Jim maintained a tight grip. Bubbles began to rise and pop at the water’s surface. Dan’s movements slowed, then became still. The struggle was over.