Last Man Standing by David Baldacci
“No, Buck, actually, I wasn’t aware of that.”
“It’s all in the paper trail,” Winters said confidently. “Check it.” “I’m sure it is, Buck. You were always the best of the best with the old paper trail.” And not much else having to do with being a real FBI agent.
“Well, heads are going to roll on this one.”
But not yours.
“So what’s this I read about London participating in the assault? Please tell me that’s just an enormous typo.”
“He was there,” admitted Bates.
Winters looked like he was ready to erupt again. Then Bates sensed a very small indication of satisfaction on the man’s features, and he finally understood where this conversation was going.
“Well, the press can just go ahead and crucify us now,” said Winters. “HRT takes out its revenge on old men and young boys. That’ll be the lead headline on the wires tomorrow. Now hear this, Bates and hear it good, London is through, effective immediately.” For effect, Winters picked up a pencil off the table and snapped it in half.
“Buck, you can’t do that. It’s still under review.”
“Yes, I can do that. He was on official leave of absence pending an SRB inquiry.” Winters motioned to one of his aides, who handed him a file. Winters took his time slipping on a pair of reading glasses and then glanced over the file. “And now I’ve also discovered that while on paid leave he was assigned to protection duty regarding one William Canfield who operates a horse farm in Fauquier County. Who authorized that?”
“I did. Canfield’s son was killed by the Frees in Richmond. Three people connected with that incident have been murdered, we believe by the Frees. You know all that. We didn’t want Canfield to become number four. Web was available and Canfield trusts him. In fact, Web saved his life. And mine. So it seemed a good fit.”
“Can’t say much for Canfield’s judgment, then.”
“And we had direct evidence connecting a truck, rented by Silas Free, to the machine guns that were used to ambush HRT. We had every right to hit them. And the assault was okayed by all appropriate parties. Check the paper trail.”
“I realize that. I actually signed off on it myself.”
“You did?” Bates asked, with a curious expression. “I actually wanted a SWAT team, Buck. You didn’t insist on HRT going in, did you?” Winters didn’t answer, and right then and Bates realized exactly why HRT had been sent in. Winters had wanted something like this to happen to fuel his crusade against Hostage Rescue. And Bates also knew that, as wily as Winters was, he’d never be able to prove it.
“I was not made aware that Web London was part of the assault,” Winters continued.
“Well, that came later,” Bates said slowly. He was defenseless on that one and he knew it.
“Oh, thanks for the explanation, that really clears it all up. And who authorized London being in on the assault?”
“His commander, Jack Pritchard, would’ve had to give the okay.” “Then he’s gone. Effective now.”
Bates stood. “My God, Buck, you can’t do that. Pritchard’s pulled twenty-three years at the Bureau. He’s one of the best we’ve ever had.”
“Not anymore he’s not. As of now, he’s one of the worst. And it will be duly noted for the official record. And I’m going to recommend that he be stripped of everything, including his pension, for insubordination, action detrimental to the Bureau and about a half dozen other things. Believe me, it’ll be an easy sell once all this breaks. There will be an enormous need for scapegoats.”
“Buck, please don’t do this. Okay, maybe he stepped out of bounds a little on this one, but he’s got a list of commendations taller than I am. He’s risked his life more times than I can count. And he’s got a wife and five kids, two of them in college. This’ll ruin him. This will kill him.”
Winters put the file down. “I tell you what, Perce, I’ll make a deal with you, because I like you and I respect you.”
Bates sat down, instantly suspicious as the cobra moved in for the kill. “What sort of deal?”
“If Pritchard stays, London goes. No questions asked. No fight, no defenses. He just goes. What’s it going to be?”
Percy Bates just sat there while Buck Winters watched him, waiting for his answer.
For years Claire had been a tooth grinder, to such an extent, in fact, that her dentist had made her a mouth guard that she wore at night to save her teeth from being worn down to the gums. She had wondered where this symptom of anxiety came from, perhaps from listening to her patients’ problems. Now she was thankful for her grinding because she had worn the gag down such that it had finally ripped apart and she spit it out. The way her hands were bound over her head, however, made removing the blindfold impossible. She had tried to rub her head against the wall to pry it off that way, until it felt like she had worn off most of her hair. Exhausted, she slumped over.
“It’s okay, lady, I’ll be your eyes,” said Kevin. “They got me locked up too, but I’m working on that.”
With her gag off, they had started talking and Claire had learned who Kevin was.
“Web London told me about you,” she said. “And I’ve been to your house. We spoke to Jerome.”
Kevin looked anxious. “I bet they worried. I bet Granny about to die from worry.”
“They’re okay, Kevin. But they are worried. Jerome loves you very much.”
“He always good to me. He and Granny.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Nope.”
Claire took a deep breath. “It smells like chemicals. Like we’re near a dry cleaner’s shop or some type of manufacturing plant.” She struggled to recall the details of how she had gotten here. The roads and the terrain the man had carried her over seemed more reminiscent of the country than the city.
“How long have you been here?”
“Ain’t know. Days sort of run together.”
“Has anyone been in to see you?”
“Same man. Ain’t know who he is. He treats me nice. But he gonna kill me, I can see that in his eyes. It’s the nice ones you got to watch out for. Folks who scream and shake their fist, I’ll take them any day over the quiet ones.”
If she hadn’t been so unnerved at the thought of being murdered, Claire might have smiled at the boy’s mature insight into human nature.
“How did you get hooked up with all this?”
“Money,” Kevin said plainly.
“We saw the sketch you did, with the remote control.”
“I ain’t know what was gonna happen. Nobody told me that. They just give me it and told me what to say.”
“Damn to hell?”
“Yep. Then I was supposed to trail ’em going down that alley and then, when I got close enough to the courtyard, hit the remote button. I seen that man, Web, he all froze up, and the rest of his buddies went running into that courtyard. Web, he ain’t never see me behind him. He got up and followed his buddies, but he was walking like he was drunk or something. I hit the button and then hung back.”
“Because you wanted to see what happened?”
“Those people ain’t never tell me about no guns. I swear that on my mama’s grave, I swear!”
“I believe you, Kevin.”
“I was supposed to go back to where I was, but I couldn’t. Seeing all them folks die like that. And then Web, he yelled at me. About give me a heart attack. He saved my butt. I would’ve run out there if it ain’t for him and then I be dead too.”
“Web said that somebody switched you for another boy.” “That’s right. I ain’t know why.”
Claire took a deep breath and the strong chemical smell invaded her lungs again. Now she too was able to identify it as chlorine, but she had no idea what its source was. She felt totally helpless.
49
Web and Romano met Nemo Strait on their way up to the mansion to attend the party.
“What happened to you?” asked Romano. Strait’s arm was in a sling.
“Anything broken?” asked Web.
“They x-rayed it up at the hospital in Kentucky and they didn’t see anything, but they put me in this thing for the time being. Now I’m a one-armed farm manager and Billy’s probably going to be pissed at that.”
They were welcomed at the house by Billy. Web was surprised at how he was dressed. He had on nice, pressed slacks and a blue blazer, his hair was neatly combed and he had even shaved. Yet as they passed through, Web could smell on the man’s breath that he had begun the party a while back.
Billy led them down to the lower level.
Next to the bar were two men Web didn’t know. They were dressed expensively if casually in Armani, Bruno Magli with no socks, Tag Heuer watches, and gold necklaces that were visible because the men’s shirts were open about two buttons too many. They were deeply tanned, fit and trim, nails professionally manicured and hair perfectly coifed, and for many reasons Web’s initial impression was that they were gay.
Billy led Romano and Web over to them. “Wanta introduce y’all to a couple new friends of mine. Giles and Harvey Ransome, they’re brothers, now, they ain’t married.” Billy was the only one to laugh at that remark. “They’re my neighbors from next door. Finally got them to come over for a drink.”
Web and Romano exchanged a quick glance.
“This is Web London and Paul—no, make that Paulie,” Billy added with a wink. “From the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
The Ransome brothers both looked ready to run at that. Harvey Ransome, Web thought, appeared as though he might faint.
Web put out his hand. “We’re off duty tonight.”
The Ransome brothers cautiously extended their hands, as though they feared that there was a real threat of handcuffs being placed on them.
“Billy didn’t tell us the FBI would be here tonight,” Giles said, giving his host an unfriendly stare.
“I love surprises,” said Billy. “Ever since I was a kid.” He looked over at Strait. “What in the hell happened to you?”
“Horse got the better of me.”
“This is my farm manager, Nemo Strait,” said Billy to the Ransome brothers. “He just made me a small fortune up in Kentucky selling a bunch of horse meat to some new suckers.”
“We did real well,” said Strait quietly.
“Where the hell are my manners?” said Billy. “You boys need some drinks.” He pointed at Web and Romano. “I know you boys are beer drinkers. How ’bout you, Nemo?”
“Whiskey and water, best kind of painkiller there is.”
Billy went behind the bar. “I’ll join you in that one.” He looked toward the stairs. “Well, come on down and join the party.”
Web looked toward the stairs, expecting to see Gwen. Instead there was Percy Bates.
“Billy was nice enough to give me an invite,” he explained as he joined them. He smiled at Web, but in that smile Web could see something that he didn’t particularly like.
Once they all had drinks in hand, they broke up into small groups. Web went over to the Ransome brothers and began subtly probing them as to what was going on at the Southern Belle, but the men were being exceptionally guarded, which made Web even more suspicious. Nemo and Romano were looking over Canfield’s collection of shotguns, while Billy was standing all alone and scowling back at the grizzly bear in the corner.
One by one all their heads turned when she came down the stairs. If Billy was more overdressed than usual, his wife looked ready to attend a Hollywood premiere; she was as far removed from her normal boots-and-jeans horse-rider persona as it was possible to be. The red gown was long, body-hugging and ran down to her ankles; the slit came to midthigh, right at the precise point where decency was still maintained but where male fantasy was compelled to sprint. The shoes were open-toed, with ankle straps that, to Web, at least, suggested the concept of bondage if one hadn’t already been thinking about it. The gown was strapless, her bare shoulders tanned and muscular but retaining much feminine allure despite the ripples. The gown’s bodice was cut low enough to make maneuvering difficult without revealing too much, and perhaps that was the intent. Her hair was piled high on her head, her jewelry tasteful and the woman required very little makeup.
There was complete silence as she descended to them until Web heard Romano whisper, “Amore,” and then he took a gulp of beer.
“Now the party can really get started,” said Billy. “What you having, Gwen?”
“Ginger ale.”
Billy filled this order. He looked over at the Ransome brothers. “She’s stunning,” said Harvey.
“A goddess,” echoed Giles.
“She’s also my wife.” He brought the drink over to her. “Nemo got himself all banged up with a horse.”
Web noted that she barely glanced in the man’s direction. “So I see.” She nodded toward the Ransomes. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said coolly.
Harvey and Giles fell over themselves to see which of them she would meet first.
Web just stood back and watched all this happen. The woman was, without doubt, exceptionally beautiful, yet the way she was dressed, the magisterial way that she was acting, seemed totally out of sync with Gwen Canfield, at least as he had pegged her. Perhaps he had been wrong.
He didn’t notice Bates at his elbow until the man spoke.
“A going-away party, I understand.”
“Yeah, case closed. Good guys win again,” Web added dryly. “Time to get drunk and pat ourselves on the back, at least until all the shit comes back tomorrow.”
“We need to talk later. It’s important.”
Web glanced at him. To someone who didn’t know the man well, Bates looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. To Web, who did know him about as well as anybody, the man seemed ready to implode with whatever he was carrying around inside.
“Don’t tell me I won the lottery?”
“I guess it’s all in how you look at it. I’ll let you decide. You want to slip outside and discuss it now?”
Web eyed the man steadily. So it was pretty bad. “No, Perce, right now I just want to enjoy my drink and go over and talk to a very beautiful woman.”
He left Bates and managed to extract Gwen from the fawning Ransome brothers. They settled in twin club leather chairs, and Gwen cradled her drink in her lap and looked over at her husband.
“He’s already been partying hard for about six hours.”
“So I see.” He looked her over without seeming to. At least he thought so until she shot him a glance.
“A little different attire than you’re used to, I know,” she said. Her cheeks reddened slightly at this remark.
“Hey, you got it, flaunt it. I’m just glad there aren’t any other women here, because they’d really be out of their league. They wouldn’t just be wallflowers, they’d be part of the wall, as far as the men here are concerned.”
She patted his hand. “You’re sweet. The fact is, I’m about as uncomfortable in this dress as I can be; worried that I’m going to fall out any second and embarrass myself, and my feet are already killing me. These Italian shoes are pretty to look at and absolutely impossible to wear if your feet are over a size four.”
“So why the getup, then?”
“Billy picked it out for me. He’s not the sort of man who tells his wife what to do or wear,” she added quickly. “Quite the contrary. I usually pick his clothes out. But he wanted me to look really knock-’em-dead, he said.”
Web raised his glass. “Consider your mission accomplished. But why?”
“I don’t know, Web, I really don’t know what’s going through his head right now.”
“Maybe it has something to do with that damn tape. Again, I’m sorry.”
Gwen just shook her head. “It’s not just that. This has been brewing for some time. Billy’s been changing over the last few months or so, and I??