The Cleric's Vault (25 page)

Chapter 48

Washington D.C.

Eric
Jennings had played the game a long time.
 
He’d worked hard for the government and done more for the protection of
the nation than most people in his line of work.
 
In his mind, the things he’d done were justified.
 

Protecting
his retirement and the well being of his finances was worth a few
sacrifices.
 
For what the Prophet
was paying him, it was worth a few more.

The
dead man on his living room floor had been an asset he’d used a few times, a
mercenary with no family or known acquaintances.
 
It had been easy to lure him there under the guise that
another well-paying job was waiting.
 

Upon
entry, Eric had invited the man in towards the direction of the kitchen.
 
Jennings’ had his back turned so there
was no way the unsuspecting asset could see the gun in hand.
 
When the man was a mere few feet away,
Eric spun around and fired three bullets into the chest of the visitor.
 
The weapon couldn’t have been audible
outside of the apartment.
 
With the
curtains drawn, the gun’s flash couldn’t have been visible either.
 
To people watching the news, it would
look like a burglar had gotten his just desserts, a simple cover up to an
otherwise intricate plan.
 
After
the execution, Jennings wrecked the place, destroying mirrors, picture frames,
vases, and even crushing the coffee table.
 
It had to appear as if a struggle had occurred and as a
result, he’d killed the intruder.

The next step would be trickier.
 
His target from earlier in the day had somehow managed to escape the car
explosion, though he wasn’t sure how.
 
Witnesses had said they saw a homeless man climb into Townsend’s
car.
 
It didn’t matter.
 
The arrogant prick had only postponed
the inevitable.

*****

Sam
Townsend had made dozens, maybe hundreds of enemies in his brief career with
the Justice Department.
 
Whenever
anyone had a sudden rise to power there always seemed to be resentment from
legions of others who thought they’d have been better suited for
promotion.
 
As someone who was
tasked with upholding the law, he’d seen his fair share of bad guys but never
actually arrested anyone.
 
Faces
ran through his mind while he sipped on a glass of vodka and cranberry juice.
 
His nerves had settled down for the
most part.
 
Yet, while he sat in a
low-back, leather chair, his Glock .40 rested nearby on an end table.
 
There was only one light on in his
Georgetown townhome, giving the impression that no one was there.
 
He had spent the rest of the day double
backing through the streets and metro stations of D.C., making sure that no one
else was following him.
 
But
whoever had arranged the attack would surely know where he lived.
 

What
had occurred previously in the day had been sloppy.
 
He doubted those who would attempt to clean up the mess
would be so careless.
 
Then he
thought of the charred body of the homeless man to whom he’d given his car
key.
 
That would help cover his
tracks for a short time.
 
It could
be weeks before dental records revealed the man’s identity.
 
Plenty of time for him to disappear and
figure some things out.
 
Still,
something told him he wasn’t out of the woods just yet.

The
waning glow of twilight had given way to evening and the yellowish tinge of
streetlights radiated outside his parlor window.
 
He took another sip from the pinkish-red liquid and placed
the glass back on the end table.
 
A
sudden knock on the door startled him.
 
Sam grabbed his gun and stood quietly.
 
Visitors were something he never had.
 
But if someone was going to kill him,
he doubted they would knock.
 
He stalked
quietly over to the door and took a look out the peephole.
 
It was Eric Jennings.
 

“Sam,
open up.
 
It’s Jennings,” the voice
echoed the visual confirmation.

Townsend
lowered his weapon and unlocked the deadbolt and main lock to the door.
 
He opened it cautiously and looked
around outside.

“Were
you followed?” Sam asked suspiciously.

Eric
shook his head.
 
“No, I wasn’t
followed.”

“Are
you sure?”
 

“Yes
I’m sure.
 
Now open the friggin’
door and let me in.”
 
Jennings’
coastal Maryland accent was thicker than usual.

Townsend
obeyed and Jennings crossed the threshold into the younger man’s home.
 
Inside was fairly plain.
 
The bare walls were colored with a
neutral beige.
 
No photos or
artwork adorned a single inch.
 
The
only thing that stood out was a simple clock on the wall with black numbers and
hands.
 
There were a few leather
chairs and matching couch that faced towards a high definition television along
with a simple glass coffee table.
 
It was as if he’d just moved in and hadn’t unpacked all his things yet.

“So,
what happened?”
 
Jennings asked as
Sam locked the door again and took another peek outside.
 
Eric walked casually into the living
room and helped himself to the seat in which Sam had previously been sitting.

The
surprised host didn’t push the issue; relieved to see someone he believed to be
an ally, albeit a scumbag.
 
Townsend grabbed his glass walked casually over to a small wet bar near
one of the opposite windows where he refilled his nearly empty rocks
glass.
 
“What have you heard?” He
asked Jennings as he raised an empty glass, offering his unexpected guest a
drink.

“Not
much.
 
Just that someone blew up
your car today.
 
They found a body
in there.
 
No ID on it yet.
 
That will probably take a few weeks.”

“The
cops have already been by here.
 
I
told them my car must have been stolen.
 
When you’re connected they will believe anything.”

Eric
nodded.
 
“So who was the
corpse?”
 

Sam
took a big sip of the brown liquid and swallowed hard.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Some homeless guy.
 
A goon came after me so I took him
out.
 
When I ran back to my car,
something told me whoever was after me would have taken precautions.
 
Jennings laughed loudly.
 
“Well, well, well.
 
I never figured you for much of a field
agent.
 
That was good thinking.”

After
another long sip, Townsend sat down across from Jennings and set the glass on
the table.
 

“What
do you want Eric?
 
Why are you
here?”

Eric
put his hands out as if proclaiming his innocence.
 
“I’m here to check on you.
 
When I heard what happened I headed here immediately to see
if you were ok.”

Sam
was unconvinced, eyeing his guest suspiciously.
 

“What’s
your next move?” he continued.

“I’m
leaving the country tonight.
 
Gonna
lay low for a while until I can figure out what is going on.”

Jennings
nodded.
 
“Probably a good
idea.
 
You can never be too
careful.
 
Do you have any idea who
came after you?”

Townsend
sat pensive, searching through the database of his mind.
 
“Could be anyone.
 
The nature of my commission pisses off
a lot of knowledgeable, well-connected people.
 
Some top-level personnel have lost everything because of
me.
 
And that’s a pretty long
list.”

“Anyone
recently?”

He
shook his head.
 
“Not that I can
think of.”

“Who
was the last person you spoke with today or this week about anything?”

Sam’s
reluctance was obvious as he paused before answering.
 
“I spoke with Emily Starks.
 
Saw her this morning.”

Eric
seemed surprised at this new revelation.
 
“Axis?
 
Why?”

“We
are doing an audit of their agency in the coming months, and I just wanted to
extend the courtesy to her for her help in the past.
 
I simply made her aware that we were going to need to see
some documents and reports.
 
Nothing major.”

“Ahh.”
 

Jennings
seemed to accept the lie.
 

Silence
pervaded the room for a minute.
 
A
timer went off in the kitchen, startling both men.

“I
put a pizza in the oven earlier.
 
You hungry?”

Jennings
shook his head.
 
“No thanks.”

Sam
stood up and disappeared through a doorway that led into the kitchen.
 
The sounds of the oven opening and
other items rattling echoed into the empty living room.

Townsend
hurriedly slid the pizza onto a pan on the counter and closed the oven.
 
As he turned around to leave the
kitchen, his face turned ashen as he stared down the barrel of a sound
suppressed Glock.
 
Eric Jennings
stood in the doorway with a stern look on his face.
 

“What
are you doing?” Townsend asked, frozen in place.

“Isn’t
it obvious, Sam?
 
You come to me
and threaten me about my operations.
 
You say that I’m up to something and that you want a piece of the pie.”
 
He shook his head and took a step
forward, extending the gun further towards his target.

“What?
 
That’s what this is all about?”

“You
have no idea the people I work for, Sam.
 
You think you’re so special with your little ‘all-access pass’ the
government gave you.
 
The people I
work for own the government!
 
And
they don’t like it when outsiders start snooping around.”

Fear
flooded the younger man’s eyes.
 
“Look, Eric.
 
I didn’t talk
to anyone.
 
I didn’t tell anyone
anything.
 
You have to believe me.”

The
older man shook his head.
 
“You
said you talked to Emily earlier.”

“About
audits!
 
Nothing else.
 
She doesn’t know anything about your
little operation!
 
I swear!”

“Ok,”
Eric said.
 
For a second, it seemed
like he believed the story and lowered the gun temporarily.

Then
he raised the weapon again suddenly.
 
“But you are a loose end.”

“No.
 
Please.
 
I’ll do anything.
 
Just please don’t shoot me.”

Jennings
thought it funny how men with extensive power could be lowered to the same
level of a beggar, pleading for any scrap they could get.
 
Sam Townsend had become one of the most
powerful men in the government.
 
He’d been reduced to nothing more than sniveling rat willing to do
anything for an extension of life.
 
“You’re pathetic,” Eric remarked.
 
“All that power and here you are begging for your life.
 
I’m doing the government a favor by
killing you.”

The
long barrel quickly puffed twice, sending two rounds into Townsend’s
ribcage.
 
He collapsed backwards
onto the floor as dark crimson began to bloom around the two blackish holes in
his white shirt. Shock covered Sam’s face as he clutched his chest.
 
A thin red line began to trickle out of
the corner of his lips.
 
Violent,
gurgled coughs ensued as blood began to fill the lungs.
 
“You,” he managed to get out between
fits of coughing but couldn’t get out anything else.

Jennings
took another step forward and without saying a word, lowered his gun and fired
one more round into Townsend’s head.
 
The man’s body stopped shaking as the blood pooled around it on the
tiled floor.
 
After pocketing the
weapon back into his jacket, he took another look back at the lifeless
body.
 
Satisfied with his work,
Eric stalked back to the front door and drew back a nearby curtain to give a
quick check outside.