Radiant Surrender (CSA Case Files Book 6) (7 page)

“Schultzy,” Crest greeted, extending an arm in acknowledgment. “It’s good to see you, although not under these circumstances.”

“I have to say I was a little surprised that this needed to be a face-to-face meeting. It’s a rare bid, although I seem to have requested a few of my own over the past decade or thereabout.” Schultz relaxed his stance and with good reason. There were numerous Secret Service agents in the vicinity who were keeping an eye on the surrounding area. “Is this regarding Stan Dunaway?”

“No,” Crest denied, stepping back although he was unable to prevent himself from scanning the other vehicles. “As for your requests, they were minor and easily completed in comparison. What I’m about to solicit could damn well ruin our careers and that of many others we have worked hard to position.”

“I always did love a challenge.” Schultz flashed a smile as he took the proffered file that Crest held out his way. Needless to say, the grin faded fast. “You know where he is right now?”

“Yes, but I can’t reveal that location with some guarantees.” Crest could easily sense Schultz’s frustration, but that was the least of his worries. “I’ve already contacted who I could, but this is going to need your special touch. I need Ryland to be given a full pardon and I’ll need it in writing bearing the AG’s signature and the official endorsement of POTUS.”

“You’re talking about the very people that want
him
executed, Crest.” Schultz held up the file in incredulity. It was rare that the man was taken aback by a request. “He’s eliminated numerous influential people over the years. The government is not going to allow him to walk. You’re asking for the impossible.”

“Nothing’s impossible.” Crest stood his ground, unwilling to let this go and allow the CIA to win. “Have you asked yourself why those individuals were chosen? My guess is that a thorough investigation was done and it was concluded maybe another country or something they had been looking into had made someone uncomfortable. Have you considered there might be another opponent in your own backyard?”

“The FBI doesn’t have the capability or the money to do something like this,” Schultz stated, sure in his assumption. “As for the CIA, their involvement in domestic matters has been significantly diluted over the years.”

“Maybe they aren’t too pleased with that direction.”

“Crest, what you’re implying—”

“I’m not
implying
anything. I’m telling you the enemy is closer at hand than you realize,” Crest said in a hardened tone to get his point across. “The CIA are pulling the strings on this one and I’ve spent the day documenting the reasons the United States government has no choice but to give Ryland a full pardon in exchange for his hit list and their involvement through target selection.”

“Regardless of the names provided, he doesn’t warrant a full pardon.” Schultz took a deep breath and shook his head, seeing the impossibility in what Crest needed to be accomplished. “It doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who carried out the crimes. If what you say is true, a full investigation will be initiated and we’ll flush out the ones responsible.”

“You and I both know that on the outside that looks all well and good. Any investigation will lead you down so many paths you’ll look like a fucking open field runner facing an all pro back field.” Crest slipped his hands into his pocket, his right one finding his challenge coin. “You obtain that full pardon, provide me with documentation of said agreement, and I will have the individual names of everyone involved on your desk within the week.”

“Within the week?” Schultz hadn’t gotten to such a high-ranking position by missing the underlying facts. “What happens during the hours in between?”

“That’s my business.”

“And does this have anything to do with Jessica Miller being wanted by the FBI for espionage?”

“I’ve never played games with you before, Schultzy. I won’t start now. Ryland was one of their own assets, as stated in that report.” Crest leaned against his vehicle and studied his friend. Yes, they’d traded favors over the years and had a mutual respect for one another, but both knew they had each other’s six in their personal lives as well. “Once CSA determined the true identity of Ryland it was only a matter of time before the CIA started to cover their tracks. They will do everything in their power to discredit me, but since I’ve run things so clean—Jessie’s the best pawn they could come up with to apply pressure. I need you to take that folder with you and comb through every bit of information I’ve been able to provide before you make a firm decision on how you’re going to proceed.”

Schultz remained silent as he took into consideration what Crest had just said. He would have to make numerous discreet phone calls and would further have to take meetings in a private setting, but those had a way of leaking out. Schultz was of a different caliber and he knew exactly how lethal the CIA could be. He would have to tighten his own security detail and advise the Secret Service of a credible internal threat from one of their own security agencies. What Crest was implying was tantamount to a coup d’état.

“If this were just about me, I would go about handling this situation an entirely different way.” Crest paused and met the gaze of his friend. “This is about Jessie and I can’t allow them to drag her into this shit. Hell, they already have.”

“Within a week. I’ll need more than my dick in my hand to push this scenario forward,” Schultz stated before reaching for the door handle of his town car. “I’ll be in touch. Try to stay alive, buddy. Once they realize you aren’t bending under their pressure they’re going to put several well placed holes in your ability to pursue this course of action.”

Crest stayed where he was and watched as Schultz’s driver got into his seat and pulled the vehicle away. He could hear other engines come to life nearby, indicating some of the Secret Service agents were following close behind. One week. He hoped like hell Schultzy provided further evidence within twenty-four hours. He hoped like hell that once Schultz read the report that he would see the benefit of having Ryland’s hit list at the very minimum. It would undeniably provide the National Security Advisor with a finished puzzle to study. The CIA clearly had an agenda and if certain political action group officers and internal government power brokers didn’t follow along, they—or in several cases their families—were to be eliminated.

Crest finally pushed off of his car to take his leave when he heard one of the burner phones ringing from within. He quickly popped the handle and then slid inside, picking up the device instantaneously.

“Go.”

“Tango One is on the run.”

“Fuck,” Crest muttered, turning the device off. Townes didn’t need to say anything more. Jessie had just made the mistake of her life. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jessica?”

Crest got out of the car and then walked to a nearby garbage can where he removed the battery, pulled the SIM chip, and deposited the phone and its parts separately. His mind spun with where Jessie could have gone and the reasons why. She trusted him and yet she was pulling this shit when he had multiple things going on at once. The FBI would have her within an hour at this rate, especially with the CIA feeding them information through an informant. He resisted the urge to hit something as he got into his car and then pulled out of the underground garage. He retrieved his phone out of the inside of his jacket, needing to give the CIA a location before they realized he’d been off the grid too long.

“Ortega.”

“What stores have you and Lauren registered for the wedding?” The slight pause on the phone told Crest that Connor understood the intention of the call. The two proceeded to discuss the anchor department stores at the Mall of America as Crest drove to his apartment building. Once he’d pulled into the parking garage he went about wrapping up the call. “Give my best to Lauren and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Parking in his reserved spot, Crest kept his usual routine as he made his way to the elevator banks. He spent the time he waited by checking his email and messages, nodding a greeting to the long haired brunette who appeared before him as the doors slid open. In no way did she resemble Jessie, but the way she carried herself made him think she wasn’t a tenant in the building. He pressed the button for his floor and stood to the side, waiting for the inevitable.

As predicted the woman dropped her purse and the contents scattered near his feet. Crest played her game and knelt down, helping her gather the various objects. When her hand covered the cuff of his suit jacket, he did his best to smile as she thanked him with a sultry voice. Within moments everything was placed back into her purse and both of them stood.

“Again, thank you so much.” The woman tilted her head in such a way that her hair fell over her shoulder and gave him an indication that she knew how use her beauty. She certainly wasn’t to his taste, but to each his own. “It’s been one of those days.”

“It certainly has been,” Crest said in agreement. “You must be new to the building. I don’t recall seeing you around.”

“I’m here visiting a friend. We’re going out to dinner this evening.” The light lit up and the chime indicated the doors were about to slide open. She gave him her best smile as she stepped forward. “Have a good night.”

“You as well.”

Crest resisted the urge to look down at the sleeve of his jacket. When the elevator doors closed he took his time placing his cell phone into the inside pocket of his suit. The camera that was aimed at his face was catching every single detail and he refused to give the CIA any credence to their suppositions. Once he arrived at his floor he continued down the hallway. He knew full well the Agency had most likely installed listening and surveillance equipment throughout his living quarters.

Entering his apartment, Crest didn’t bother to look around or even locate all of the devices. He was annoyed that he had to maintain a routine instead of heading directly to the location where he was needed so that he could speak with Townes to find out exactly what had taken place. In a few moments he would walk into his bathroom and set the suit and shirt he was wearing aside for the cleaners. It was amazing what bugs the dry cleaning solvent could kill. The agent that had been in the elevator had brushed against him before she dropped her purse as well as touched his suit. He was now riddled with tracking devices that he would render useless, leaving them behind in his apartment and subsequently destroying them once they had been through the dry cleaning process.

Whoever was given the task of monitoring his position would ease off for another hour or two until they realized that he hadn’t moved. They would then activate other devices to identify that he was still inside. Until then he’d take advantage of the elapsed time he’d made for himself to locate the woman who’d made his every waking moment hell. It was time to set some ground rules.

Chapter Seven

J
essie cracked the window of the stormy blue 2012 Mazda MX-5 two-door convertible Miata that she was driving, needing the cool air to keep her awake. It was going on midnight and considering she hadn’t really slept the night before, it was hard to keep her eyes open. She should only have a half hour left until she reached her destination, but she couldn’t help but wonder how Gavin would react when he found out that Nick Klaus had assisted her in leaving town. Once Jessie had found out her bank accounts had been locked and she had no access to any of her money she fell back to Plan B. A friend she had made at Masters who had the resources wouldn’t have a problem taking her at her word. Nick’s daughter was away at college and both Jessie and Nick had agreed that any vehicle registered to him would hit the hot sheets as soon as they discovered his duplicity. Now Jessie drove his daughter’s old high school car that had been gathering dust in the barn. The FBI surely had Nick in custody by now, although he could certainly hold his own.

It was only an hour and a half from Minneapolis to her parents’ house in Cumberland, Wisconsin. She’d been on the road for an hour, her hair shoved up into a black ball cap and wearing a clean change of dark clothing. She hadn’t bothered to ask Nick why he’d had multiple sizes of women’s clothing. How many women he had in and out of his residence wasn’t her business. It had taken some time for her to figure out how to leave the building without having anyone know. She’d succeeded though and that was what was important. She walked several blocks before hailing a taxi to make her way out to Nick’s two hundred and eighty-seven horse and cattle ranch situated between Stillwater and White Bear Lake. The majority of the delay had been meeting at Nick’s ranch, obtaining more cash and a vehicle for her that wouldn’t be listed as stolen or directly registered to Nick.

She felt guilty for leaving like she had and hoped like hell Gavin didn’t waste precious time looking for her. Once she had the information she needed to help her parents she would turn herself into the FBI while Gavin continued to work on her case. He thought she was weak and that she wouldn’t be able to handle a few days in custody while he figured another way around the Ryland pardon fiasco. It was only a matter of time before he admitted to himself that the President would never grant a full pardon, nor would they take his word that she didn’t have anything to do with leaking the information she was accused of selling. Somebody was going to jail and the FBI wasn’t going to relent without someone’s neck in that noose.