Justifiable Homicide: A Political Thriller (Robert Paige Thrillers Book 1) (6 page)

“You’ve got to see it from the big picture perspective, Bob. They tip off the enemy about what we’re doing. They’re a bunch of treasonous little bastards.”

“Aren’t they also trying to protect the Constitution?”

“Quit talking like that. Maybe I’ll have to put
you
on the watch list.” His voice sounded upset as he said the words. The sweat on his face had caused his glasses to slide part way down his nose. He pushed his right index finger against the bridge of his glasses to adjust them.

Paige thought,
I really need to keep my opinions to myself. I don’t want him monitoring the phone calls and emails I have with Sveta. I’ll just pump him for more information.
“Tell me about this watch list. Who’s on it, and how do you determine who gets on it?”

“Well, I can’t give you all the details because that’s classified, but I can tell you what’s already been reported in the press, more or less.

“Anyone who criticizes our efforts to win the war on terrorism is a potential addition to the list. If they do it often enough, they get on the list. If they appear on television or write newspaper articles about it, we give them bonus points. If some journalist interviews them, we assign points to both of them.

“We rank the terror threat based on the number of points they accumulate. If they accumulate more than a certain number of points, we tap their phone and look at their emails. We try to discredit the people who have the most points.”

“How do you do that?”

“It depends. Once we start monitoring someone we gather information about their personal life. Sometimes we find out they’re boinking their secretary. Then we find a way to make it public. You remember that story about Julio Sanchez, the councilman who had his mistress on the city payroll? We found out about the affair through a wiretap and got a friendly journalist to break the story. Now Julio is under indictment for misusing city assets.

“We don’t limit the list just to people who criticize our efforts on terrorism. They get points for other reasons too.”

“Like what?”

“Anyone who criticizes the TSA gets on the list. Anyone who punches a TSA agent for groping their groin gets bonus points.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Yeah, quite a lot, but we can usually convince the local news media not to report it. If they report it anyway, they get some points. All those reporters chip away at our legitimacy and give aid and comfort to the enemy. Sometimes you need to grope a few groins to protect the country from terrorists. It’s a small price to pay.

“People who criticize certain aspects of our foreign policy also get on the list.”

“What is it they have to say?”

“Anyone who says we should pull our troops out of some country can get put on the list. If they say we should pull our troops out of Germany, they don’t get as many points as if they say it should be some Middle Eastern country, because pulling troops out of Germany isn’t a big deal. It’s actually a waste of money having troops in Germany. That money could be put to better use in the Middle East, Asia, Africa, or Latin America. World War II ended in 1945. It’s time Europe stood on its own feet. American taxpayers shouldn’t have to keep subsidizing those socialist bastards.” He cocked his head and smiled at Paige as he said it. “Anyone who says Israel should stop stealing Palestinian land gets put on a watch list. Anyone who advocates cutting off aid to Israel is also put on a watch list. Those kinds of statements give aid and comfort to the enemy. Israel is our strongest ally. We can’t have people saying stuff like that against Israel. We also pass along that information to Mossad.

“Do you remember Professor Garcia at the University of Miami? He used to say stuff like that. He wrote a book about how people are disappearing and are being held without access to an attorney.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, the Patriot Act and some other legislation let us do that, but that’s beside the point. The point is that guys like Garcia chip away at our credibility and make it look like we’re the enemy. They say we’re more of a threat to America than the terrorists.”

“Professor Garcia was caught with drugs, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah. One of our guys planted some cocaine in his car, then arranged for the local police to find it. The university fired him. It was easy because he wasn’t tenured. That took away his platform and his credibility. Who are you going to listen to, some professor from a prestigious university or someone who’s unemployed and guilty of drug possession?”

“Don’t you think that doing things like that shreds the Constitution?”

“You’re not one of those guys, are you? Come on, Bob! We have to do these things to silence the people who are giving aid and comfort to the enemy. We’re at war, and we have to do whatever it takes to win. We have to do what’s best for the country.”

Wellington had second thoughts about what he’d just said as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
I’d better take it down a notch. I think I’m alienating him, and I need Bob for this assignment. He’s the only asset in my inventory who can do the job. I don’t want him to decline the assignment.

Paige noticed Wellington’s body language. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Eyes darting around, from the ground to the bay and back, then to the boats docked alongside. Avoiding eye contact.
What’s with John today? He’s swaying back and forth like he’s trying not to shit his pants.

Paige tried to calm him down. “Well, I hear what you’re saying.”
But I don’t agree. President Wilson imprisoned more than 10,000 people during World War I for speaking out against the war. Lincoln shut down newspapers and even issued a warrant for the arrest of a Supreme Court justice for saying something he didn’t like. Roosevelt imprisoned more than a hundred thousand Japanese-Americans during World War II just to be on the safe side. John’s sounding a lot like them.

Wellington took a deep breath of the fresh bay. “By the way, you’re probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes, that had crossed my mind.”

“Do you know who Professor Saul Steinman is?”

“Sure. He teaches political science at Florida International University.”

“That’s what he does during the day. But in his spare time he criticizes our war on terrorism. He’s on television just about every week. Last week he started circulating a petition to defund the TSA.”

“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“He’s starting to get signatures, mostly from his students. He also has some of them walking around the malls gathering signatures as part of a political science project. We put in a friendly call to the FIU provost to try to get him to stop, but the provost told us to go to hell.”

“So did you put the provost on your enemies list?”

“Hey, I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks for the suggestion.” He gave Paige a devilish smirk.

“How did you find out about the petition?”

“We have one of his students giving us reports. The thing is, this guy’s got to be stopped before he can do any more damage. He’s a traitor. That’s where you come in.”

“I don’t teach at FIU, and I don’t teach political science. What do you want me to do?”

“That’s not a problem. He meets with some other professors on a regular basis to plot strategy. We want you to attend those meetings and tell us what he’s planning. Oh, one other thing I might mention. He’s been funneling money to terrorists through a Palestinian humanitarian organization. We’d like you to find out more about that, if you can.”

Paige looked surprised by Wellington’s last statement. “But Steinman’s Jewish, isn’t he? Why would he funnel money to Palestinian terrorists?”

“Out of a misguided sense of humanitarianism. He’s raising money to build housing for the Palestinian families who are being displaced by the Jewish settlements.”

“But how is that funneling money to terrorists? They’re just a bunch of innocent homeless people being evicted from their ancestral homes.”

“They’re also terrorists. Or potential terrorists. Here are Steinman’s contact information and office hours.” He passed a scrap of paper to Paige.

Paige glanced at it. “How do you plan to stop this guy? Are you going to report him for boinking one of his students?”

“No, we actually looked into that option, but we don’t think he’s fucking any students. Even if he were, that option would take too much time to be successful. This guy has to be shut down fast.”

“How do you plan to shut him down? Are you going to liquidate him?”

Wellington looked out over Biscayne Bay, then gazed at the palm trees swaying in the breeze. He didn’t want to look Paige in the eyes. “No, nothing that drastic. We just want to neutralize him so that nobody will listen to him or take him seriously.”

“All right. What is it you want me to do?”

Wellington turned to Paige and stared directly into his eyes. “Just get invited to join his little professor group. Let us know when and where they meet, who the other members are, and gather whatever other information you can. We’ll do the rest.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get into his group and get back to you when I have something to report.”

“Great. That would be very helpful.” Wellington looked at his watch.

“I have to get back to the office. Give me those items you were telling me about. I’ll get my people to process them.”

Some exotic birds were chirping in the trees as Wellington and Paige made their way back to the parking lot. Paige opened the trunk and gave Wellington the bag containing the guns, notes, and DNA samples, plus the flash drive with photos of the two men, their van, and license plate.

“I’ll get back to you when I have something. It might take a few days.”

“If you are afraid to say something on the internet because you fear your government then you may need a new government.”

Michael S. King

Paige had the rest of the afternoon free, and decided to take the scenic route back to Sunny Isles Beach. He rolled down the window so he could feel the breeze and smell the air, which was fresh in that part of Miami. Across the bay, the tall glass and steel buildings lined with palm trees were a far cry from his youth in Erie, Pennsylvania, which was just south of the Canadian border. Life was good.

He turned on the radio to get some music. Instead, he got a special news report.

Nathan Shipkovitz, a law professor at the University of Miami, was found dead a few minutes ago in his car, which was parked in the university’s parking lot. The cause of death appeared to be multiple gunshot wounds to the head. Shipkovitz had been an outspoken critic of the federal government’s warrantless wiretapping and email monitoring program. He had written several papers on this topic for the Electronic Frontier Foundation. Sources say a note was found under the car’s windshield wipers, but the police have not disclosed its contents.

The broadcast ruined his afternoon. He had never heard of the Electronic Frontier Foundation until that afternoon. Now it was part of the top local news story of the day. Could Wellington be behind the killing? Quite possible. Either he had set it up or he knew who did. It was too much of a coincidence.

Would Steinman be next? Was Paige’s new assignment the first step toward setting him up for the kill? Should he tell Wellington he changed his mind? Should he at least confront Wellington, face to face, to check his reaction?

“The natural progress of things is for liberty to yield and government to gain ground.”

Thomas Jefferson

“Political language … is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable.”

George Orwell

Jim Bennett swiveled in his chair and gazed out his office window at the street below. He kept thinking about Santos. It bothered him that Santos shot Gabriella Acosta in the chest instead of the head. Assassins shouldn’t become emotionally involved with their targets. They should make decisions that are in their best interests, not the best interests of their targets or their families. Being overly sensitive is a weakness. Having a weak partner can get you killed.

Jim Bennett—born Jaime Benítez—worked for the FBI out of its North Miami Beach office on Northwest Second Avenue. His parents came to Miami shortly after Fidel Castro seized power. His main job at the FBI was to keep track of the Latin American drug cartels. As a side job he kept the CIA informed of local FBI activities, for which he received a monthly cash stipend he neglected to include on his tax return. John Wellington also hired him to do freelance work from time to time.

The all-female Spanish-speaking staff at Super Cuts in Sunny Isles Beach liked seeing him walk through their door. Good looking and taller than average – a few inches under six feet with wavy, dark brown hair – they enjoyed flirting with him and he flirted right back.

He kept fit by jogging and going to the gym, although his body wasn’t as rock solid as it used to be when he served in the military, where he learned to kill without thinking twice. On a few occasions, he had been part of a team that executed entire families in their homes, including women and children, up close and personal. That’s why it didn’t bother him when Santos killed Gabriella Acosta.

Seth Newman, a young attorney who started working for the FBI a few months after graduation, walked into Bennett’s office and sat down in the plush leather chair next to Bennett’s desk. “Jim, I just got back from that briefing on the new law that Senator Tom Garrett is sponsoring. I’m a little disturbed.”

“Why’s that?”

“I think major portions of it are unconstitutional. If it passes, we’ll be in charge of enforcing an unconstitutional law.”

Bennett shifted in his chair and leaned forward. His piercing brown eyes and thick eyebrows made people feel uncomfortable when he looked them directly in the eyes, which was what he was doing to Seth. “What else is new? Some provisions of the Patriot Act are unconstitutional too, along with most of the anti-terrorist laws that Congress has been passing. We can’t let the Constitution get in the way of protecting America from terrorists. Which provisions are bothering you?”