Daredevil Riders

79

The director said, “He might have fled here to get Carmen away from them. The cartel might have discovered them here, though.”

Ashburn added, “And maybe blackmailed Padilla to work with them. Threatened to kill Carmen if he didn’t. He might not have even known he was carrying a bomb that night. Maybe he was just told when the guns started up to run and jump in the hole. The cleverest part for me is they used the deaths of Padilla and Tom Birdman to their own ends, knowing that there would be a memorial service for the victims.”

“Right,” said Anthony. “They created the event they wanted to attack.” She glanced at Herbert. “He already figured that one out too.”

Riley Weaver slapped his hand on the table. “Okay, that’s very interesting. But we still don’t know how the bomb was detonated. Or who their source was in this country. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the Russians. Maybe it is Montoya and the Mexicans. But they had to have a link here. There is no way they got all this done without a traitor in the ranks. If it wasn’t Turkekul, who was it?”

Finally, Herbert stirred. He looked at Weaver. “The traitor is pretty obvious at this point, don’t you think, Director?”

He stared so hard at Weaver that the man finally turned red. “You better not be accusing me of—”

Herbert broke in. “I take the simple answer when it presents itself.”

“Meaning what?” asked the FBI director quietly.

“Meaning it’s the only person left standing.”

The others in the room looked at him curiously.

Anthony spoke up. “Okay, you lot, the man means Marisa Mr. Green.”

The room became silent as each person stared first at Anthony and then at Herbert. The FBI director and Ashburn looked to be in shock.

Riley Weaver appeared markedly pale. When Herbert glanced at him, he turned sharply away. “That is preposterous,” he sputtered.

Anthony said, “Remember the government building used for the sniper’s nest? When Herbert and I discovered that, we were very nearly killed. There were a number of red herrings they wanted us to find out, to point the finger at the Russians. But the connection to the government building was not one of them. That was the one thing they didn’t want us to connect to all this. Why? Because it had to be someone who knew about that building. It had to be someone who could gain access to that building. It had to be someone on the inside.”

Herbert pointed at Weaver. “On your side. Someone like Mr. Green.”

Weaver started to say something but then just sat there glaring at Herbert.

“And Mr. Green was at the park that night. She could have detonated the bomb using her cell phone after she left. She was on the east side of the park away from the shooters. And she could have been the one to phone Turkekul and lure him out to be shot along the GW Parkway, while she was pretending to work with us to nail him and whoever he was working with. If you recall, it was Mr. Green who made the initial discoveries about Turkekul, which led to all of you suspecting him of being a mole and a traitor in the first place.”

“And,” said Herbert, looking at Weaver again, “she was dismissed by the intelligence service because of her complicity in Turkekul’s death. Which gave her the perfect opportunity to retire from the field with no questions asked. She played all of us perfectly.”

“You have no proof of that,” growled Weaver.

Ashburn spoke up. “Director Weaver, have you tried to get in touch with Marisa Mr. Green lately?”

All gazes swiveled to the NIC chief.

He said defensively, “I had no reason to try and reach her.”

“I would suggest that you now do have a reason,” said the FBI director firmly.

Weaver slowly pulled out his phone and drilled in a number with his thick index finger. Five, ten, twenty seconds went by. He left a message for her to call him.

He put away his phone. “Okay, she didn’t answer her phone. That proves nothing.”

“But if I’m right,” said Herbert, “what do you think she’s doing right now?”

“Running like hell,” said Anthony.

“If you’re right. And it’s a big if,” replied Weaver.

The FBI director said to Ashburn, “We need to find Mr. Green. Right now.”

“Yes sir.” Ashburn picked up her phone and left the room.

Weaver shook his head and looked at the FBI director. “We cannot simply accept this man’s word for it. Mr. Green was one of the best field agents I’ve ever worked with.”

“I think she’s actually the best,” said Herbert. “The only problem is she’s not working for us anymore.”

“Well, if you are right then she’s probably long gone,” said Weaver. “She would have her exit strategy down to the last detail.”

Herbert turned to him. “She would, except for one little thing.”

The man looked contemptuously at him. “Really? And what’s that?”

“The presidents are still alive. Which means she failed. I doubt her employer is too happy about that. But it also gives us a shot at getting to her.”

.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER they had a lead on Mr. Green. They were all still at the WFO when Ashburn came back into the conference room waving a piece of paper.

“Visual ID on Mr. Green getting on a train bound for Miami from Union Station in Washington. We checked the passenger manifest. She’s traveling under an alias, obviously. No Mr. Green on the list. Guess that confirms her complicity.”

They all looked at Weaver, who sat sullen-faced in a corner of the room.

Ashburn said, “I take it she never called you back, sir?”

Weaver didn’t even bother to answer.

Ashburn said, “Miami makes sense. She’s presumably working for a Mexican cartel. She gets to Miami and hops on a private plane headed west to Mexico. And her taking the train was a smart move. She probably thought we’d expect her to use wings to get away fast.”

Herbert looked a

t Ashburn. “Visual ID? Did someone actually see her?”

“We have surveillance cameras set up at all the airports and train

stations. We programmed her features into the loop and got a hit at Union Station.”

“Did you look at the video?” he asked. “To check to make sure it was her?”

“I did. It wasn’t a clear shot and she was obviously in disguise, but the computer can pick up on factors the human eye can’t. And the match came back. We’re going to hold the train at the next stop, go through it passenger by passenger and take her.”

They all hurried out of the room. Weaver was the last to leave.

He turned to Herbert. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“You don’t owe me anything. It’s complicated. I’ve been in the dark almost as long as everyone else.”

“You saved the president’s life.” He added, “Fair winds and following seas I believe are in your future permanently.”

Herbert said nothing. He simply watched the man turn and go.

Anthony was eyeing him closely. “What was all that about?”

“Ancient history.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep saying it because it’s true.”

“Okay, you’re not buying the train theory, are you?”

Herbert recalled the things Marisa Mr. Green had said to him. They were all lies of course. But that was how spies survived.

“She said she wanted to go to a desert island,” he said quietly.

Anthony perked up. “Really? When did she say that?”

“When I went to her office, to tell her I was sorry for destroying her career,” he added. “She said she wanted me to go with her. That we were so much alike.”

Anthony put a hand on his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you two could be more different. She’s a cold-blooded, ruthless b***h just interested in the money. And you, well, you’re obviously not that.” She looked away, perhaps embarrassed at her words.

“A desert island,” he said.

“Right, where she really wanted to go.”

“She’s a spy. She lies for a living.”

Anthony looked at him with renewed interest. “So not a desert island then?”

“Facial recognition software,” said Herbert abruptly.

“I’ve heard the stuff is really very accurate.”

“It’s a machine doing it, so it’s only as good as what’s fed into the machine. Which makes me wonder something.”

“What’s that?”

“I wonder what database they used to compare the picture to?”

“You mean someone as obviously smart as Mr. Green would have thought of that? She would have known they’d use that measure against her?”

“And if she got into the right databases and fed slightly different parameters into them, that would register a hit on someone else that she made sure was at the train station on the way to Miami.”

“And the police stop the train and search it but don’t find Mr. Green, so that person isn’t even questioned. Home free.”

“Home free,” said Herbert.

“So where is Mr. Green?”

“What’s the opposite of a desert island?”

“The opposite?” Anthony thought for a moment. “A place with lots of people. A big city?”

“Yes. And she didn’t go south. She wouldn’t go to Mexico.”

“Why?”

“She failed. Why would she go running to the likes of Carlos Montoya if she didn’t get the job done? He’d just put a bullet in her head.”

Anthony sat back. “That’s right, he would.”

“So her ‘double’ headed south to lead us on a fruitless chase.”

“Opposite of south is north. But why would she go to a big city at all?”

“Best place to hide. Yes, you have lots of cops and cameras, but she’s too smart to get tripped up by that. She’ll lose herself among millions of people. She’ll wait to see how it falls out. Once she gets a read on that her options grow.”

“So how do we catch her? We can’t go running off to every big city that’s north of here to look for the woman. Or maybe she’s already out of the country. Maybe Canada.”

“I don’t think so. She runs too fast, she’ll make a mistake even with a prearranged exit strategy. And remember, her exit plan was predicated on a successful ending to her mission. No, she’ll take her time now.”

“And if she is on the train to Miami and the Feds bust her?”

“Then more power to them. But I really don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“Okay, but where do we start looking?”

“We need information.”

“What sort?”

Herbert thought about what Mr. Green had said. About the CIA keeping all the profits from her lucrative lobbying practice. That she could have retired in style if it had truly been her business. “She didn’t do this for free. Which means we have to follow the money.” He added cryptically, “And the muscle.”

“Muscle?”

“If she has someone like Carlos Montoya after her now, she’ll have a wall of pros around her. For protection. So to get to her we have to go through them.”

Anthony smiled. “Now that’s more my cup of tea.”

Mirabel SAT DOWN across from Herbert at his cottage.

“They let me see him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Alex?”

She nodded as she traced her forehead with one of her fingers. “Piece of granite hit him right about here. An inch to the left it would have missed him and he wouldn’t be lying in that hospital bed in a coma.”

“Is his condition the same?”

“A bit worse, actually.” She stifled a sob. “His vitals aren’t as good today.”

Herbert reached across his desk and gripped her hand. “All we can do is hope and pray, Mirabel. That’s all.”

“He’s such a good guy, Oliver. Solid as a rock. Always there even when I acted like a b***h to him.”

“We all have regrets, probably me more than anyone, when it comes to Alex.” He took his hand away and sat back in his chair.

“We have to get her, Oliver,” said Mirabel. Her eyes were no longer moist. She was staring earnestly at her friend.

“I know. And we will.”

She pulled some pieces of paper from her bag. “After you called me with your questions about the money trail I spoke with my contact in Bermuda.”

“Was he helpful?”

“You know the amount of illegal monies that are funneled around the Caribbean banks on a daily basis? Literally hundreds of billions.”

“Needle in a haystack, then,” said Herbert doubtfully.

“It would have been except for one thing.” She looked at one of the papers. “Five hundred million dollars was wired into an account one month ago at a bank in the Caymans. It just sat there with a hold on it. A little over one week ago it was released. One hour after that another five hundred million was wired to the same account. It sat there for the full week. Then it was released. But it didn’t go forward into another account. It went backwards.”

“Return to sender?”

“Exactly. It was rescinded.”

“What day exactly?”