Precipice (21 page)

His plan of retribution, though required he head back to Booth’s house, on the opposite side of town, to look for clues. He’d have to pass his way through downtown to get there. Crowds of people packed the streets there. He turned toward them, knowing if someone from the hospital, or even Lynch again, came looking for him, his best bet was to get lost in the crowd.

He glanced over his shoulder at the revolving door to the hospital once more. No followers. He turned to face downtown. He took a deep breath and muttered under his breath, “Okay, William. Let’s do this.”

As the sun peeked over the horizon, people began to line the street, fighting to score that prime viewing spot for the parade. By nine, two minor skirmishes erupted that required local security attention, both over stolen seats. By ten, the sidewalks were impassable along the entire two mile route, packed with folding chairs, strollers, umbrellas, and thousands of revelers. Today was the biggest celebration this little town had ever hosted, and no one wanted to miss it.

The parade got under way a few minutes past ten. Nearly everyone in town was either in the parade or as close to front and center to the route as they could manage. One of those who wasn’t stood a mile away, on a hill that rose gently from downtown. From this vantage point, he could keep an eye on the proceedings as the floats weaved its way between buildings. More importantly, he lurked near a side gate to the building where the most powerful men and women in town did business.

To his left, and a step behind him, stood Nichols. Both dressed touristy, to blend in with the many out-of-towners. A hundred yards further waited Roth, columns hiding her from view of the capitol building. Nichols and Roth waited on his signal to act. Faye planned to meet them later with that pesky agent, Randal. He’d like to use her services sooner, but they needed to keep Randal under wraps until the last minute.

Lynch waited down on the street, mingling with parade-goers and waiting for the right time to kick off their own version of festivities. At that point, others in the crowd, armed with powerful weaponry, would leap into action. He could spy Lynch, leaning against a brick wall just off the route. At the right moment, Lynch would raise one arm in a predetermined signal to both his boss and the other gunmen in the crowd. It was time to move.

He hated not having full control of the operation, especially since it was
his
operation, but he couldn’t risk going down there himself. Besides, he needed hands-on command at ground zero, the capitol.

It would take a few minutes to gain access to the building once the signal was given but the real magic wouldn’t happen until they were deep within the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the towering edifice. His spine tingled with anticipation, sensing the shadow from the monstrous building behind him. In less than an hour, he would be sitting on top of immense wealth. And it would be all his.

He frowned.
Well, almost all his.
He would share a portion with Nichols, Roth, and Faye. The others, Lynch among them, also expected a portion of the plunder, but a different destiny awaited them. The more piles of distributed money, the smaller each pile. He wanted to maximize his share.

His original plan included similar fates for the others, but he’d grown fond of the two women, and he could dupe Nichols into taking a share much less than what he deserved. He’d be useful to keep around for a while. In the crime business, you could always find a use for a burly, dimwitted thug.

No matter. He would work out precise details later. At present, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Any minute now, Lynch’s arm would rise out of the crowd and his wait would be over. The machine would be set into motion.

***

Spinning tires threw gravel pellets upward and outward in a high arc as Sloan peeled into the warehouse lot. No time for silence or secrecy now. His engine squealed as the wheels ground to a skidding halt. The three men piled out of the tiny auto and headed for the first building. Guns drawn, Sloan led the way, his hefty weight waddling faster than it had in years.

No words were spoken. None were needed.

Warehouse number one proved unfruitful, so they moved to the next. One by one, they moved between the warehouses. Not until they reached the fourth building did they spot it. The rain made it easy to tell some stones had been displaced outside this door. The pebbled path arced in two parallel tracks curving away from the building and toward of the main road. A car had been here, and it left recently.

The door gave way to Krieger’s boot and the resulting echo of the powerful kick reverberated throughout the building. If their presence was unknown to this point, that invisibility was over now. Once inside, a bare room greeted them. Only an empty chair and small end table adorned the space. At the opposite end, a long gray hallway opened, lit by a few dim lamps fastened to the wall.

“Hello?” Sloan broke the collective silence of the three men and called out. “Dominic? Shannon?” Only a returning echo from the solemn stillness was there to answer.

A series of five doors on each side populated the hallway. The first few led to empty offices. Small desks and a few scraps of paper were all that remained. No sign of anyone having been there for a while. Krieger bent down to pick up one of the scraps.

It appeared to be the torn corner of an official document, ripped haphazardly from the rest of the page. In the dim light, he could make out a small logo of a bird, as well as a series of digits that might be part of an account number and the last part of a name. He read it out loud. “It looks like Babalola. First name’s torn away though.”

Dax didn’t say anything, but Sloan blurted, “Amadi Babalola!” Even in the low light, his face appeared grim. He glanced at each of the men with him before exiting the room to continue their search.

The rest of the rooms on the hallway were empty cells. Not even a lonely chair or scrap of paper. The final door led them to a dark stairwell which descended. Moving with care, they edged their way down the series of winding steps, about two stories’ worth before finding a door. They found themselves in yet another hallway. This passage mirrored the one they’d just cleared, but shorter with fewer rooms on each side.

They stood at one end and again called out, with Dax doing the honors. “Hello? Anyone here?” Nothing but the returning echo. They stood in silence. Then the stillness broke.

It was faint and barely perceptible. A voice. A weak male voice, calling out in response, crept out of one of closed doors on their left.
Dominic!

Krieger reacted first, bolting forward. The lack of lock seemed strange, but they didn’t question it. He flung the door wide and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the room. The light from the faint lantern in the hallway outside struggled to penetrate the darkness inside. As Dax and Sloan joined him in the doorway, the figure of a man, hanging by chained wrists and ankles, became visible in the darkness. As the visibility improved, they saw the man secured to the far wall was not Dominic Randal.

“Ja—Ja—Ja—cob?” A voice croaked.

Sloan’s face wrinkled. “Amadi?”

“I’m glad you were able to make it.”

The man sat, shrouded in a corner booth, a wide-brimmed fedora pulled low over his eyes. He looked short in stature, but the table created a mask, concealing most of his body behind it. He kept his head tilted downward, as though he didn’t want anyone to see his face.

“I was supposed to work tonight. I had to lie to my boss. Told him I was sick.”

“I apologize for such late notice. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out, so the later word went out, the better.” He coughed. “As for your lie, you’re going to have to get used to that. In this line of work, people will often do bad things for good reasons. It’s a necessary part of the business. Then again, I’m told that’s something you’re familiar with…”

“Sir? If I may?” His guest faltered, uneasy.

“Of course.”

“Why me? Why was I chosen?”

He chuckled softly. “Why you?” The man’s voice was high-pitched and strangely unsettling. “I’ve had a close eye on you for a while. Ever since the academy.”

“You-you have?”

“I have. Consistently in the top one percent of your class on written exams. High marks on physical exams and field tests. You possess all the qualifications I’m looking for.”

“But there were other students just as good as me…” A valid point. “A few even better.”

“Very true,” he acknowledged. “None of them possess your unique background though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I managed to get ahold of your psychological profile.” He ignored her question for the moment. “Willpower, determination, and the ability to remain focused in stressful situations were all off the charts. Ironically, you scored so high on your ability to focus that it raised a red flag in the system.”

He paused to sip from his drink. It looked like water, but the darkness of this back corner booth made it difficult to discern. “You possess a very focused intellect, almost single-minded. You can become so preoccupied and obsessed with the task at hand, you miss the larger picture.”

His guest said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“Take a seat. No need to remain standing.” He waited for his visitor to slide into the chair opposite him before continuing. “Your profile held a few other anomalies as well, too complex to get into tonight, but it piqued my curiosity.”

He reached into a shoulder bag at his side. A manila folder deftly slid out and landed in the center of the table. With a flick of his wrist, he spun the folder 180 degrees to face away from himself and flipped it open. Photos and documents spilled out, revealing things never meant to see the light of day.

“How-how did you get these?” his guest sputtered.

“That doesn’t matter right now. Point is, I know about your past and I believe we can use this. You have nothing left to lose and I stand to gain a lot.”

“What do I get out of it?”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fully compensated.” He slid a small scrap of paper across the table with a figure scribbled across it. A very large figure. “What do you say?”

“I’m in.”

“Excellent. Now get out of here. You’ll be contacted soon with your orders.”

She pushed her chair back and gathered her things. As she was about to depart, the man in the booth called out in a soft voice, “Oh, and Shannon?”

She glanced at him. “Yes, Director?”

“These people you’ll be working for are highly dangerous. They may ask you to commit acts you’re uncomfortable with, but it will be important you do it. No hesitations. Gain their trust, but above all, be careful. There will be much at stake.”

She nodded and turned away, disappearing into the night as quickly as she’d appeared. Director Dax sat silently in the booth as he finished his drink. When the glass was empty, he tossed a few bills onto the table, stood and exited out the back.

***

Shannon started, jolted out of her reverie by the movement of her partner, trussed up in the passenger seat of her’91 Chevy Caprice. He was beginning to stir. She’d replayed this moment over and over in her head, but suddenly felt unprepared for the task. He’d want answers, some solid explanation. Director Dax had granted Dominic clearance to be filled in, but now that the moment had arrived, she didn’t know what to say.

“Wha-?” he stammered.

Great. He was awake.
She drew her gaze away from the road to steal a quick glance to her right. He blinked several times, trying to adjust to the bright sunlight as the groggy fog began to lift from his brain. “Where am I?” His first words upon waking were clearly not directed at anyone in particular.

“Try to remain still. You’re still tied up.” It was important to keep him calm so she could explain. These next steps were vital.

“Shannon?” He still sounded out of sorts.

“It’s going to be okay,” she reassured him. “You’re in my car right now. We’re on our way to the capitol building.”

“Wh-?” He stammered unintelligibly for several seconds, but abruptly stopped as he noticed the continued presence of his bonds. He wiggled against their hold, but nothing happened. He tried to sit instead. That, too, failed and he toppled.

Shannon’s hand darted out to slow his fall. “It’s okay, Dom. Relax.”

“Wha-? Relax?” He got that tongue of his under control and words flew past his lips so fast it resulted in a steady stream of babble. “You’ve got me tied up in the seat of a car. You deceived me, you betrayed SISA, you betrayed our country!”

“Randal…” She gently tried to interrupt, but he’d have no part of it.

“You delivered me into a trap!”

“Dominic.” This was going about as she expected…not well at all.

“You handed me over to that freak to be bound and beaten in some dark dungeon. And now! Now, God only knows where you’re taking me.” He was borderline hyperventilating

“Dom!” Her sudden yell jolted him out of his rambling and back to sanity for the moment. “I’m sorry. I just told you where we’re going, to the capitol.”

“But-“

“Let me finish.” Keeping him quiet was the only way to do this. “I need to explain something to you. Are you willing to listen?”

He hesitated, then nodded and grunted.

“Good.” She took a heavy sigh, “About a month before I was assigned as your partner, I was completing my exams at Camp Hell.”

He nodded—even smirked—at the infamous nickname for the training camp all agents went through before joining SISA. Officially Camp Hale, named after one of its original founders, its absurd regimens and difficult working conditions earned the camp its unflattering nickname. Higher management publically denounced the moniker, but it was whispered they embraced the nickname and were proud of its reputation as the toughest training facility in the nation.

She continued, “I received a call from a man I’d never met, a name I only knew from whispers. Director Dax.”

“
The
Director Dax? Carter Dax?” He raised one eyebrow.

“That’s the one.” She’d captured his attention now. “He wanted to meet with me. Gave me sketchy directions to this little Japanese sushi restaurant and bar outside of town.”

She still saw that meeting in her mind as clearly as if it happened yesterday. “A few hours before the meeting, a small package was delivered to my apartment. It contained a small mp3 player with a recording. He wanted to use me differently than the rest of my peers.”

Dominic seemed confused, but the fog was lifting. She wasn’t the bad guy he’d thought. As she further delved into her role as a spy, his jaw dropped.

“So all this time…you were a mole? A double agent?”

“Technically triple, I think? It did mean occasionally I needed to lie to you about what I knew or what I was doing. I’m sorry about that.” She was.

“Who else knows?” He ignored her apology. Her misleading him a few times wasn’t the most important issue right now. “Does Sloan know?”

She shook her head. “Only the Director. And now you. He said the fewer people who knew, the better.”

“What did he want you to do?”

“Just keep an eye on Yemi. Report anything I found out.”

“So…you’ve known about Amadi and Yemi being brothers all along? You knew Amadi was still alive and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m truly sorry about that. I did all I could to protect your partner, but this was bigger than him. I couldn’t tell you. I had my orders.”

“Fine,” Dominic grumbled. She knew he felt betrayed, but hopefully he understood why she’d not told him. “So why didn’t you stop him before now?”

“Yemi never fully trusted me. Deep down, he may have suspected…I don’t know. But then again, he didn’t truly trust anyone. He wouldn’t tell his right hand what his left was doing. I never managed to gather enough evidence to make a legit arrest with charges that would stick. Besides, we needed to let this plan run its course, so we could nab Yemi’s entire group. It’s not enough to just nail him.”

“And I was part of that plan?”

“I had to convince Yemi to trust me. I did what was necessary at the time.”

“Wait.” He frowned. “I’m still tied up…How do I know you’re telling the truth now? You could be lying to keep me quiet in transport.”

“You don’t know right now. For the moment, you’ll just have to trust your partner. I left the ropes on so you wouldn’t try anything stupid before I explained. But I promise I’ll untie you once we arrive and I’ll be handing you your gun back as well. Hopefully that will help make up your mind.”

“Maybe…” Dominic was beginning to accept her story, but she could tell he still fumed at the deception. “I can’t believe you let me walk into that trap.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Dom…like I said, it was necessary. I couldn’t risk losing his trust and blowing this. Too much is at stake.”

He again ignored her apology. She knew he wouldn’t fully trust her again until she handed over his gun. He glared at her and spoke. “So what do we do now?”

“We’re meeting Yemi at the vault inside the capitol building…”

“Wait…so there really is a vault?” he interrupted.

“There is.”

“But how? And who?”

She took a deep breath before answering. “It’s a federal government stash. Mostly cash and gold. It’s worth billions. It’s Fort Knox, only more clandestine.” She spoke rapidly as she repeated the story Dax had shared with her.

“After the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor in 1941, people freaked out. Americans felt invincible, but the attack proved we weren’t this intimidating, unassailable force. Our armor had shown a crack. Even after the war ended and we re-established ourselves at the top of the heap, there was real concern that a new enemy would attack the homeland again. So the top intelligence gurus in the country met at a small farmhouse here in Greenlake and hammered out arrangements.”

“They met here? Why?” he demanded.

“Well, we aren’t that far from DC. Plus, at the time, Greenlake was barely a town. A couple farming families and that was it. Discretion was key. One strategy they enacted was keeping a stash of money hidden in some no-name town. They were afraid someone might go after our financial system, plunge us into fiscal chaos and cripple the nation. The New York Stock Exchange, National Treasury, maybe Fort Knox…all were possible targets. As a safeguard, they decided to set aside a portion of the treasury in a place no one would ever know about. Gold bullion, national treasures, stacks of cash. And they settled on Greenlake.”

“But surely the locals saw them moving the money…or building the vault…”

“Well, obviously someone suspected or else no rumors would’ve surfaced. But they moved it in over months and years. Not even the mayor of Greenlake knows the true nature of what’s down there.”

“And yet, Olayemi found out.”

She grimaced. “We never discovered how, but bribery and torture are certainly not beneath him. He probably stumbled across the right person and got him to talk.”

“But where’s the security? Wealth like that needs to be protected.”

“Barbed wire and armed guards all over don’t exactly scream innocent small-town capitol building. The rumors were rampant enough without watchtowers and military personnel dotting the Greenlake landscape.”

“So nothing?”

“Well, no…not nothing. Why do you think SISA was headquartered here in the first place? Dax knew about the vault.”

Dominic sat silently for a minute, his mouth agape. She knew questions were flying through his mind, but they’d arrived at the capitol, so answers had to wait.

“You ready?” Shannon asked. “Yemi bugged my main phone, but I used a burner to place a call while you were out. The Director is going to meet us here with Sloan. He’s also sending agents to round up Yemi’s gang downtown at the parade, where they’re running the distraction.”

“What then? I doubt he’s going to let us just waltz in and ruin his plot. Surely he has contingency plans for a possible interruption.”

“True.” She winked. “But we’ll have a few aces up our sleeves Yemi won’t see coming.”

***

Director Dax stood without speaking in one corner of the room and watched Sloan tend to his agent. The poor man had been beaten, probably tortured, before being hung on the wall by iron chains around his wrists and ankles. No limit existed to human brutality.
The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.