MAC WALKER'S BENGHAZI: The Complete Collection (10 page)

“They have the place ringed in barbed wire, with at least one armed guard at the gate. The guard looks to be Libyan. That’s a State Department vehicle that just went inside. Now what the hell is the State Department doing outside Benghazi, and why would they be using Libyan security?”

Benny and Jack had joined Mac and Minnick on the balcony as Mac continued to peer through the binoculars at the increasingly mysterious property across the road.

“Any word on a diplomatic consulate in Benghazi Mac?”

Mac lowered the binoculars and looked back at Minnick. It was a good question, though one he didn’t have the faintest clue as to an answer. Before Mac could reply, Jack broke in with his own comment.

“If that property over there is supposed to be an American diplomatic station, why so far from the main city? Why so far from local authorities? And why would they be using Libyans to guard the entrance? Suppose it could be a private security contract, but in a place this dangerous? Why not have some Marines out there handling it?”

Benny was slowly scratching his chin as he contemplated Jack’s words while looking back at Mac.

“He’s right Mac, that location is all wrong for some kind of diplomatic compound. Hell, it feels more like…like Spook work.”

Mac’s eyebrows rose slightly at the possibility of the property they appeared to be placed here to do surveillance on could be some kind of CIA operation. Of the many assignments he and his crew had been given over the years, one involving spying on the spies would be a first.

“I’m calling Tilley.”

Mac walked back into the bedroom as he placed the call. This time, Tilley picked up on the first ring.

“You inside?”

Tilley was getting right to it.

“Yeah – we’re upstairs looking out at our neighbors.”

Tilley paused briefly.

“Good. You already know what you’re there for then.”

Mac stood in the middle of the bedroom with the cell phone to his ear while slowly shaking his head at Tilley’s words.

“No, not really. What should we tell you about the neighbors?”

Again Tilley paused briefly before answering.

“Keep your eyes on them 24/7. Keep mental notes on who is coming and going, how long they stay, when they leave, basic surveillance operation Mac. Easy money.”

Something about how Tilley said that last part made Mac uneasy. His instincts were what had kept him alive all these years, and they were once again warning him something wasn’t quite right.

“One of our rigs just went in while I was watching, not more than ten minutes ago.”

“What?”

Mac had surprised Tilley with that information.

“I said one of ours…from State, just arrived at the location.”

Tilley recovered quickly from being caught off guard, this time not hesitating to reply.

“Ok, good…that’s the kind of information I want from you and your team Mac. Who goes in, how long they stay. Do it in shifts, but make sure you always have at least one set of eyes on them at all times. Now downstairs, in the kitchen, there’s a door to the pantry. Go inside there and you should be able to find an access panel. Follow the stairs down and check it out, but not all of you at once. Remember, keep at least one set of eyes on your neighbor at all times Mac. Always.”

“When do you tell me the rest of it Tilley? Tell me why we’re really sitting out here?”

“I have to keep you on need to know for a while Mac. Sorry, but I’m not even sure of all the what’s and why’s on this one. Just go check out the pantry access, and then stay put. That’s it. That’s all I have for you right now.”

That was the second time during the same conversation Tilley said something that sent the warning bells in Mac’s head ringing loud and clear. Since when did Tilley not know every detail of an assignment? Before Mac could raise his objections, Tilley ended the call.

Jack stepped into the bedroom and tipped his head in the direction of the balcony.

“So is that what the four of us are doing here? Watching the compound across the road?”

Mac nodded as Jack’s mouth curled downward in disgust.

“This ain’t right Mac. You know it too. Right from the get go, this ain’t been right. No way the four of us get sent all the way out here to do simple surveillance. I mean, what the hell? Why pay us this kind of money for that? There’s tons of people who could do this for a lot less. No way…we’re here for something else. Tilley give any clues?”

Mac shook his head.

“No – nothing. Said he just wants surveillance, 24/7.”

Mac walked back out to the balcony and told Minnick to continue watching the compound. He then had Benny and Jack follow him downstairs to the kitchen where he located the pantry door.

“Tilley said there’s an access panel inside here that leads to a stairwell.”

Minnick was the first to spot the panel, partially hidden behind a large stand up freezer.

“There – behind the freezer. You can see the cut-out in the wall.”

Jack pushed the freezer to the side, exposing the five by five cut-out Minnick had indicated. Mac placed both hands against the panel and pushed inward. The panel opened easily, and just as Tilley had described, revealed a narrow set of stairs that led down. A series of LED lights that hung along the walls of the stairs illuminated the way. The three men made their way downward, the stairs opening into a small, low ceilinged cellar area with a dirt floor, and rough textured concrete walls. It reminded Mac of a bomb shelter. In the middle of the room sat a single, large wooden table.

“Holy shit.”

Benny’s reaction represented Mac and Jack’s feelings as well regarding the contents neatly organized atop the table.

XII.

Ray Tilley was not used to being so unsettled, but that is exactly what the last few phone conversations with Mac Walker did to him. Mac and his team were sent out to conduct surveillance on a potential post-Gaddafi gunrunning operation, with the possibility of an eventual subject termination order. Why the hell then did Mardian have them set up across the road from a location that appeared to be run by our own State Department? And who was this Mark Densmore Mac mentioned, who he said is, or was, with the FBI? Tilley had reached out to a State Department contact to try and get someone over to Ella’s office to assist Mac and his team. Was Densmore the one who they sent out?

As for whatever happened with Moretti, why he would have sold out Mac’s team to whoever was gunning for them, Tilley was in the dark on that as well. As always when working with foreign agents who he didn’t know well, Tilley had taken precautions. The safe house Moretti was delivering Mac and his team to was a temporary location. The primary safe house for the assignment had been unknown to Moretti, meaning Mac and his team, now that they had arrived at that safe house, should be able to proceed with the mission as planned. Unless of course, someone else they trusted was working against them as well. That left few remaining options though. There was Mardian and his Congressional contacts. There was Tilley’s source at the State Department who he had already reached out to. And Ella Lerner and her security team. Of those, it was Mardian who Tilley trusted least, and Mardian did know of Moretti.

It wasn’t fair to Mac and his men that he couldn’t give them answers. It wasn’t fair, but more important – it was dangerous. Ray Tilley knew his line of work involved dealing with shits. Washington D.C. was crawling with them, but that didn’t mean he left an entire team hanging in the middle of a place like Benghazi without clueing them in on what was really going on. That wasn’t right, and Tilley had no intention of letting that scenario sit.

He was going to have to go see Mardian.

Tilley picked up his phone and dialed Mardian’s secure contact number – the one Mardian always picked up. Always.

This time, there was no answer.

Tilley sat as his desk pondering his next move. Mac and his men were in no immediate danger, they had their surveillance instructions, and once they made their way to the cellar, they would realize there was more to the assignment than just surveillance. Mac would be calling him back demanding answers – answers that Tilley felt compelled to provide him. Answers though, that he simply did not have at this moment.

Another call was placed to Mardian. Again, Mardian failed to pick up.

Tilley decided to reach out to his mentor, retired Army General Martin Vannatter. General Vannatter had earned the rank of four stars shortly before his retirement from the military at age sixty five. That was just over ten years ago. Though no longer in the day to day game of high ranking military politics, the general had maintained an impressive array of contacts, and he and Tilley continued regular communications with each other. Tilley had spent several years as part of the general’s staff, a job which had given Tilley direct access to some of the most powerful figures in Washington D.C. and led to his current working relationship with Stephen Mardian.

The general picked up on the second ring.

“Hello Mr. Tilley. It’s a bit late, so I assume you’re in a bit of a pickle. How can I help?”

General Vannatter had long been known for his ability to somehow know what a situation was, and what is wasn’t. He read people almost instantly, and that initial reading was almost always proven right. More important, General Vannatter could be trusted. He kept a myriad of secrets, never indicated a desire to cash out and write a book, and gave every indication of taking those secrets to the grave.

“That will allow me to remain alive well into my dementia years Mr. Tilley.”

That was the comment the general repeated to Tilley often during the months before his retirement. Tilley was hoping the general could now give him some insight, or even some actual real time information, about what might really be going on in Benghazi.

“Thank you for taking my call general. I have a team just arrived in Benghazi.”

Tilley paused, knowing the general would have something to say about that. He was slightly surprised at what little he did have to say.

‘Ok. Go ahead…”

Tilley’s mind scrambled to present the situation with as much, and as little, detail as possible. That was how the general demanded things. He didn’t like unnecessary information. Just the essential facts, or shut the hell up and move along.

“It’s a four man team. I was told it was primarily surveillance with the possibility of a termination order. Illegal weapons related - nothing out of the ordinary there. Thing is general, it seems the location being watched is uh…possibly linked with our own State Department. And, one of the team is convinced they saw an individual who was, or is, FBI.”

The general said nothing, but Tilley could picture the older man sitting in his spacious home office at his farm estate a few miles outside of Spencer, West Virginia, the place of his birth nearly seventy six years ago, looking up at the ceiling as he processed the information Tilley had just told him.

“This team of yours – they are good? Would you say, among the best you have?”

“Yes – absolutely.”

Again the general paused for a moment.

“So what is it about this team Mr. Tilley that makes them the best? Beyond the ability to fire a weapon and the like, what is it that allows you to place your trust in them to complete the assignment?”

Now it was Tilley’s turn to pause as he thought over what it was about Mac Walker and his men that made them his first choice when an assignment became available.

“They get it done. No muss and no fuss.”

Tilley could almost hear over the phone the general’s mouth spreading into a smile.

“Would you say they do so without question? That they don’t suffer from certain…moral indecisiveness when it comes to, as you put it, getting it done?”

Tilley found himself nodding as he sat alone in his own office.

“Yes. They don’t question. At least not yet. We give them the assignment, and they do it.”

“There’s your answer Mr. Tilley – at least part of it.”

Tilley knew he was missing something that was right in front of him. Something the general expected him to now realize without having to be told.

“I’m sorry general, I’m not following.”

“Mr. Tilley, it was no accident you were chosen to present this particular assignment to that particular team of men – this team that you describe as being capable of simply getting the assignment done without question. No muss and no fuss, right?”

Tilley remained confused.

“That’s correct.”

“Ok then Mr. Tilley, that would indicate that this assignment will likely present a certain moral conflict. A moral conflict that would be problematic to a team less inclined to simply get it done, as you put it. A moral conflict that it would appear, based on what you have just told me, involve operatives within out own government.”

A creeping understanding presented itself to Ray Tilley – and it left him cold.

“I sense you are now beginning to understand Mr. Tilley.”

Tilley rested his head against the palm of his right hand as he took a slow, measured breath.