MAC WALKER'S BENGHAZI: The Complete Collection (19 page)

The first bullet entered the back of his right shoulder, shattering a portion of his collar bone before exiting out from under his armpit. The sensation reminded Tilley of hot candle wax being poured over and then through, his skin.

The second bullet glanced off of his right hip, nicking a bit of bone and burning a small trench across the area. Tilley cried out in pain as he tried to turn his body around to fire back at Nigel, his own handgun now held out in front of him.

The third bullet ripped into Tilley’s lower throat, snapping his head back with enough force it propelled his entire body backward, the back of Tilley’s head smacking against the granite base of the Andrew Jackson sculpture with enough force to fracture his skull.

One of the last images Ray Tilley could comprehend before death overtook him, were the inscribed words of a plaque imbedded on the side of the sculpture:

OUR FEDERAL UNION
IT MUST BE PRESERVED

Tilley had just enough strength left in his final moments to move his head to the side to be able to view Jackson’s visage as it glared back across Lafayette Square and Pennsylvania Avenue, toward the regal and imposing main entrance of the White House. Though he had viewed this sculpture many times as he walked past it over the years, Ray Tilley had never noticed the look of horror that clearly appeared on the former president’s face, as if the statue were looking at some terrible monster inhabiting Washington D.C.

Ray Tilley may have not understood that look before, but as the last remnants of his life left his body, he understood then.

XXIV.

Mac Walker sat alongside Ella Lerner inside the confines of the ambassador’s black SUV as it made its way swiftly toward the Benina airport. The ambassador intended to return to Tripoli, while Mac and Ella were to meet with the Frenchman Louis Danton, head of the United Nations humanitarian efforts in and around Benghazi, and, if the ambassador’s assessment was correct, something of a double agent working to thwart the efforts of the Saudi-funded globalists.

Jack had remained behind with Ella’s security team at her office, with instructions to check in with Minnick and Benny back at the safe house on the hour.

Ella sat next to Mac, her face its customary and unreadable portrait. Mac found himself fascinated by what her background story might be. Clearly she was a highly trained agent of the Israelis, and the two men assisting with her security openly showed great respect toward her authority. She knew Tilley somehow, but both she and him were unwilling to provide Mac any details of that knowing.

“No need to stare Mr. Walker.”

Mac caught himself doing exactly what Ella accused him of – staring at her face.

“Sorry, I just find you one hell of an interesting woman Ella. Know any quiet bars in Libya where a guy like me and an Israeli woman like you can sit down for a drink and some nice conversation?”

Ella’s lips pursed slightly as she struggled to suppress a smile.

Mac eyes wandered to the quickly passing desert landscape outside. He found it odd that an American ambassador would be travelling with so little security to protect him. He only had his driver, a man who appeared no older than thirty and still quite wet behind the ears. Surely the man was a target in a place like Libya, so why the lack of any real security?

The entrance to the Benina Airport, the same one Mac and his men had driven out from just a few days earlier, was less than a half mile ahead. The ambassador turned in his seat to look back at Mac and Ella.

“Mr. Danton is expecting you of course. I’ve filled him with only the information I believed he needed to know – namely that your team needs access to a flight out of Libya Mac. He has assured me he can provide that within the next twenty four hours, but you’ll have to confirm that with him yourself when you meet him.”

“And you are certain he can be trusted Mr. Ambassador?”

The ambassador’s eyes held Mac’s for a moment before he nodded.

“Yes – I give you my word. You have to leave your weapons in the vehicle of course, they’ll be there for you when you get back. You can use it to drive yourself back to Ella’s office when your finished with your meeting.”

The SUV drove past a checkpoint without stopping, indicating airport security had already been informed of the ambassador’s arrival. The vehicle pulled into a parking space near a large two story metallic building where two men holding AK-47s stood outside a single white door. Mac’s eyes looked up and saw two more armed men looking out from the building’s roof top.

After exiting the vehicle, Mac and Ella stood across from the ambassador and his driver. The ambassador pointed a thumb toward the white door entrance to the building.

“Mr. Danton is inside there. I won’t be joining you for the meeting – have to catch my flight out of here. Good luck Mr. Walker, and thank you as always Ms. Lerner for you and your government’s assistance. Oh – and Mr. Walker…if you find yourself in need of help once you get back to the United States, please call this gentleman. He’s an attorney who assists people like yourself. He may be able to help.

Mac looked down at the business card the ambassador has given him, reading the name and phone number.

Neeson Legal Services

303
-237-7788

The ambassador and his driver were already walking away before Mac could respond. Mac placed the business card in one of his jacket pockets and glanced down at Ella, whose face betrayed a touch of apprehension as she followed the ambassador’s departure.

“I hope he is taking adequate precautions. He’s been much too confident of himself of late.”

Mac, remembering his recent thoughts on the ambassador’s lack of security, nodded in agreement at Ella’s concerns before the two of them made their way toward the building’s entrance. The older of the two armed guards, a tall, thin man in his forties, opened the white door for Mac and Ella, nodding once as they walked past him.

The door opened up to a small, low-ceilinged square room with a set of metallic stairs leading upward. Mac paused at the bottom of the stairs as he looked down at Ella.

“You met this Danton before?”

Ella’s eyes were staring upward, trying to determine if anyone could hear them.

“Yes – just once. The ambassador has dealt with him a great deal.”

Mac found himself following Ella’s gaze upward as well.

“And what was your impression – is he someone you think we can trust?”

Ella’s eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to look upward.

“I trust no-one Mr. Walker.

Ella began moving up the stairs, taking them two at a time as Mac followed close behind, failing to prevent himself from looking in appreciation at Ella’s well formed and toned backside.

Seconds later and both of them stood outside another white door. A security camera placed in the upper right hand corner stared back at them as they waited. After nearly a minute passed, a voice called out to them from a speaker placed inside the ceiling just above their heads.

“Ms. Lerner and Mr. Walker – please come in!”

The voice’s accent was unmistakably French.

The door opened inward a few inches, allowing Ella to push it completely open and her and Mac to step into the adjoining room. Several desks were lined up across the floor, each of them with a man or woman seated and working, the sound of fingers over keyboards filling the space. Narrow windows ran the length of the room, allowing light in as well as providing views of the surrounding airport. From the other side of the space and moving quickly toward them was a tall man similar in age to Mac, with longish black hair lined with more than a bit of grey that was combed back from his prominent forehead. He was dressed in a cream colored suit matched with a brilliant red tie. His feet were home to a pair of equally light grey canvas boat shoes, which he appeared to be wearing without socks.

“Hello! Hello! Hello! I am Louis Danton, master of all you see before you!”

Danton’s wide smile revealed brilliant and perfectly aligned white teeth, and his extended right hand was comprised of extremely long and perfectly manicured fingers. Mac caught a wave of cologne as Danton moved toward them, the scent reminding him somewhat of soapy leather.

Louis Danton paused in front of Ella, his eyes looking her up and down as the wide smile remained on his face.

“Oh Ms. Lerner, it has been too long since we saw each other last! You look magnificent! An oasis in this too drab and dangerous place! Please now, the both of you, follow me to my office where we can talk. Would you like food or drink? Coffee?”

Mac noted the faint outline of a gun holster running down the back of Danton’s left shoulder. He was armed.

“No thank you Mr. Danton – we don’t have much time.”

Mac was glad for Ella’s refusal of food or drink. He wanted to be out of this place as quickly as possible.

Danton walked briskly back across the room, smiling to some of the workers sitting at their desks as he did so. A dark grey door stood at the other end of the room with a single armed guard standing outside.

“I apologize for the militant look of the place, necessary precaution given the circumstances of course. All my security team are French though – totally trustworthy.”

“Yeah – but they start running at the first sign of trouble, right?”

Louis Danton stopped in mid stride, his back straightening. Mac could sense he didn’t appreciate the joke. Ella though, offered her widest smile yet, even looking like she might actually laugh.

“I understand one’s need to share humor Mr. Walker – but would ask you not do so at your host’s expense.”

Danton continued making his way toward the door as the armed guard glared back at Mac, indicating he too heard the Mac’s joke regarding the French’s notorious historical penchant for running away.

Ella and Mac followed Danton into his office, a spacious room that was much more luxuriously furnished than the main second floor area. A large window was placed directly behind Danton’s desk, allowing him a full view of the arriving and departing airport traffic.

“Now you two have a seat. Make yourselves more comfortable. If you don’t mind, I am going to enjoy a smoke.”

The soapy leather smell was more pronounced inside the Danton’s office, though it also mingled with that of burning tobacco. Danton stood next to a small drink cart, where he proceeded to fill the glass half full with whiskey.

“You know, most people when they think of France and alcohol, only think of wine, but we produce some of the most marvelous whiskeys. This here is a bottle of single malt from the island of Corsica. Reasonably priced, and frankly, among the best you will find. I’ve sold thousands of bottles of this very whiskey from this airport alone! By the time I leave here, these Libyans will love it!”

“Thought Muslims didn’t drink.”

Danton laughed loudly over Mac’s comment, followed by a long drink from his glass.

“Muslims? They are like any other religion – you have your hardliners who follow their interpretations of the Koran, and you have everybody else who just wants to get by in this life and enjoy it as much as possible. I’m in the enjoyment business Mr. Walker, among other things.”

Mac had figured out Danton’s angle.

“You’re a smuggler. You use the airport and your United Nations credentials to bring in goods that people need, and in a place like this, all blown to hell, they need a lot. You’re getting rich off of the chaos.”

Mac could see Ella tense slightly as she glanced at Mac from the corner of her eye.

Danton remained quiet for a moment before breaking out into his wide, brilliant white smile again, waiving his right pointer finger next to his face.

“Yes-yes-yes Mr. Walker! I accept your description, and plead guilty as charged! I assure you though, my interests go far beyond my own profits. I actually do enjoy being able to bring pleasure to others. Providing food, drink, clothing, transportation, computers, or any other assorted gadgetry – is that not what makes this world go round Mr. Walker? I am an unrepentant capitalist you see, both a provider and recipient of the near boundless possibilities of the free market!”

Mac looked back at Danton with a mixture of annoyed amusement. Ella, sensing perhaps that Mac’s annoyance might soon overcome that amusement, intervened.

“Mr. Walker and his men seek transport back to the United States Mr. Danton. The ambassador indicated you are both able and willing to provide it.”

Louis Danton, who had by then sat down behind his large, oak desk, leaned forward in his chair, his head tilting slightly to the left as he took a closer look at both Mac and Ella.

“You two have a bit of chemistry, don’t you? I can see it! Romance in Benghazi – how marvelous! I have long believed there is always time for love. Always!”

Ella had been right – Mac’s patience was wearing thin.

“I’m here about getting me and my men out of Libya alive. Let’s just focus on that ok?”

Danton took another sip from his glass and then a long, slow drag from his cigarette.

“I can do that Mr. Walker – for a price. This isn’t a charity I’m running here you know.”

Mac couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of Danton’s statement.

“You’re in charge of the fucking United Nations humanitarian efforts in Benghazi.”

Louis Danton leaned still further forward over his desk, both smiling and nodding his head at the same time.

“I know – I know! Such an interesting contradiction don’t you think
?”

“The ambassador says you’re one of us, meaning you are no friend of the globalists that infect the United Nations. That you are working against these radioactive weapons that are here, or heading this way. That true?”

Mac had posed the question for the sole purpose of pushing Danton away from his comfort zone. It didn’t work. Danton’s mood remained pleasantly aloof, carefree, and completely at ease.

“Yes, that too is true Mr. Walker. I may be a capitalist, but not one without a certain degree of morals and considerations toward the bigger picture. Such weapons should not be part of this program. I am working to circumvent their use, as I have done in the past, and will do so again. As for your description of the United Nations, again, I would agree. It has become a most vile and corrupt institution, and increasingly dangerous to both our countries. Again, I work to alleviate that danger as much as possible, but to do so, I must work within the beast itself Mr. Walker. Does that make sense to you?”

Mac shrugged. He could give a shit about the politics of the United Nations, or supposed conspiracies – he just wanted to get his men home safe from this fucking disaster of an assignment.

“My dad used to tell me you lay down with dogs, you get up with fleas Mr. Danton. Might want to think about that as you spend all this time working within the beast, as you put it.”

Louis Danton clapped his hands together and laughed as cigarette smoke swirled around his head.

“Very good Mr. Walker, indeed that too is true! Fleas…yes, there is an abundance of those in this business of mine. Nasty, bloodsuckers they are!”

“And what about Dasha Al Marri – I assume you know about her?”

Finally Danton grew quiet, his eyes losing a touch of their humor.

“Oh yes, Dasha. I know her well Mr. Walker, well enough to know to avoid her if at all possible. A scary one she is. A damn cold piece of work. I understand you recently came to know a bit of her…warmer side though.”

Mac’s eyes widened in shock. He didn’t expect Danton to know about the night and morning he had spent making love to Dasha. Ella’s eyes looked over at Mac briefly. Was that disappointment Mac saw looking back at him? Or anger? At least it wasn’t indifference.”

Danton held up both of his hands in front of him.

“I apologize Mr. Walker, that was not an appropriate comment. Such business is your business, and not mine. Please, forgive me.”

“Transport from Benghazi, Mr. Danton. Please confirm when you can provide that.”

Ella’s request cut through Danton’s discomfort, allowing him to change the subject.

“Yes, tomorrow morning. 9:00 a.m. we have a United Nations transport flight leaving here on its way to Abidjan – the Ivory Coast. From there you and your men can access an Air France flight to take you back to the United States. You simply need go to desk two and ask for Gifford Roche. I will already have contacted him for you to let him know your situation and needs. He and I have done a great deal of business together already.”

“How much?”

Mac’s question was left unanswered as Danton finished the contents of his whiskey glass. His eyes then narrowed slightly as he looked back at Mac.

“Ah, now we enter real negotiations Mr. Walker! Are you up to the challenge?”

Ella stood up, looked down at Mac and then back to Danton.

“No negotiations Mr. Danton. You are doing this as a favor for the ambassador.”

For the first time since meeting him, Mac noted a hint of real danger in Danton’s voice as he too stood up to stare back at Danton.

“There are always negotiations Ms. Lerner. You asking otherwise will not make it so. As I just said, I am not running a charity here. You wish for me to assist Mr. Walker and his men. That requires some effort, certain risk, for which I expect to me fairly compensated.”

Mac placed the envelope of forty thousand Euros given to him at the beginning of the assignment on the top of Danton’s desk.

“That’s forty thousand Euros. It’s all I have.”

Louis Danton’s hand snatched the envelope and extracted the bills, his fingers expertly counting the amount in just a few seconds.

“Very good Mr. Walker – we now have a deal. I will reserve a spot for you and your men on the flight leaving here tomorrow, September 11
th
, at 9:00 a.m. Please do not be late Mr. Walker, I will not hold the flight for you. Also be aware that I am not responsible for protecting you between now and then, or at any time during or after the flight. Do you understand?”

Mac nodded.

“Sure, don’t get myself killed. I’ve done a fair job of that so far Mr. Danton, as you have too, apparently.”

Danton bowed his head slightly, the warm smile returning.