“The move might explain a lot,” Cortez agreed.
They passed a few more offices, went through the unit meeting room, and then to a door with two flags on either side of it. Conway knocked on the door. “Come!” they heard.
“Good. He’s in there. Right this way, gents.” He led the way through the doors, and Cortez and Taylor followed. Inside were several metal shelves and a large set tub—it looked like a janitor’s…
Cortez heard several loud thummps! behind him—and then his vision exploded into a field of swirling shooting stars. Crushing pain shot through his head and neck, and he hit the linoleum floor hard. Another blow to his rib cage took the breath out of him. He felt several more sharp blows to his head and neck…then nothing.
“Hey!” Conway shouted. “You didn’t say nothin’ about killin’ these guys!”
“What the hell did you expect us to do—sit ’em in the corner and tell them to be quiet and behave themselves while we rip this place off?” the assailant asked derisively. “They’re FBI, for chris-sakes!”
“Our job was to just get the vehicles and choppers ready to roll…!”
“Then get your ass out there and finish up while I clean up this mess,” the assailant said. “We don’t get paid unless those vehicles are on the road by sundown.”
“They said they were investigating losses at National Guard units,” Conway said nervously as the other man started checking the bodies for weapons and ID. “Think they’re on to us?”
“If they were, this place would be swarming with cops and troops,” the assailant said. “I know of at least a dozen other units involved in this scheme too, and they haven’t been investigated yet either. But after tonight, we’ll be done and on our way to Argentina with our money.” He looked at Conway, who had frozen in place looking at the dark blood and brain matter oozing out of the FBI agents’ heads. “What’s up with you? You never seen a dead guy before?”
“Sure. Two tours in the Sandbox in five years, I seen plenty. Just not one clubbed to death right before my eyes. One second I was talkin’ to the guy, the next…whammo. I didn’t sign up for this to kill our own, know what I mean?”
“Get real, Conway,” the assailant said. “You signed up for this because they’re paying us a shitload of money and a free airline ticket out of the country. What do you think they’re going to do with all this equipment—have a fuckin’ Fourth of July parade? They’re gonna blow somethin’ up with it. Banks, the IRS office in Philly, a bunch of raghead mosques, who knows? I don’t give a shit as long as I get my money and I’m not around to watch it.”
“But we killed two guys…!”
“First of all, Conway, you didn’t kill nobody, hear me?” the other man said. “You don’t know who did it, you didn’t see or hear nothin’. Second, we’ll be out of here by tonight. Third, you made a deal. You back out now, and those crazy motherfuckin’ Russians will be back for your eyeballs. Now get finished and let’s get the choppers and tracks ready to roll so we can get the hell out of here.”
The White House Press Briefing Room, Washington, D.C.
Two days later
The President of the United States emerged from the back of the White House Press Briefing Room in the west colonnade of the executive mansion and took the dais, followed by Harold Kingman of TransGlobal Energy, National Security Adviser Robert Chamberlain, White House Chief of Staff Victoria Collins, and other members of the President’s staff. The reporters in the packed briefing room got to their feet as the cameras clicked and whirred furiously.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, good morning,” the President began, the indication for everyone to be seated. He waited a few moments while the White House press corps found their seats; then: “It gives me great pleasure to announce today that Mr. Harold C. Kingman, president and CEO of TransGlobal Energy Corporation, will be the keynote speaker, panelist, and honored guest at the first annual American Energy Conference, to be held next month here in Washington.
“As one of the world’s, and certainly one of America’s, largest, most diverse, and most technologically advanced energy providers, TransGlobal Energy’s role in shaping, defining, and implementing strategies to providing the energy the world needs is pivotal,” the President continued. “In today’s highly competitive energy industry, however, few companies wish to share their vision for fear of giving away their company’s blueprint for profitability. But there is one American not afraid to share his vision with us, and that is this gentleman right here beside me, my friend Harold Kingman. He’s not afraid to tell us what the future holds in store for him and his company because he is a leader in the industry. As a leader, he’s not afraid to take new directions, explore new possibilities, and challenge the conventional notions of service to humanity versus profitability, responsible stewardship of the environment, and natural resources versus innovation.
“I know there are still many concerns about security for this energy summit,” the President went on. “Our hearts and prayers go out to the victims of the terrorist bombings in the San Francisco Bay area, and more recently over in Cairo, Egypt, near the Great Pyramids. However, thanks to Robert Chamberlain, my National Security Adviser, along with Attorney General Wentworth, Secretary of Homeland Security Calhoun, and National Intelligence Director Kallis, I believe America has never been more secure and more aware, and we are strengthening our security every day with the help of the American people. Our country is safer and more secure because of you. I thank you for your efforts, and I urge you to keep up the fight. I and my administration stand shoulder to shoulder with you.
“I’d like to invite Mr. Kingman to say a few words and then we’ll take a few questions. But we have a tee time here soon at an undisclosed location, where I assure all of you that I will try my best not to look like the duffer I am. Harold?”
Kingman took his place behind the microphone, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “Thank you, Mr. President,” he began. “I am honored and privileged to be a part of the energy summit, and I hope I can contribute something to the discussions.” Off to the side a clerk handed Victoria Collins a note; she read it, stared blankly ahead for a few seconds, then stepped up behind Kingman as he was speaking and whispered into the President’s ear. The President adopted that same blank stare for a few seconds, then nodded reassuringly to his chief of staff.
“I’ll have much more to say during the summit,” Kingman was saying, “but for now, my primary goal and the goal of everyone at TransGlobal Energy is energy independence for America. It can and will be achieved. Thank you.”
The press corps started tossing questions to the podium, but at that moment Collins took Kingman by the sleeve and escorted him off the dais. The President stepped to the microphone and said, “Unfortunately there’s a development that warrants our attention, so we’re going to cut the press conference short. I ask all of you to follow the staff’s directions in a calm and orderly fashion. Thank you.” The President left the dais, which was immediately occupied by a tall, burly Secret Service plainclothes agent. The press corps immediately erupted into bedlam as the reporters scrambled to get more information and contact their bureaus.
“What in hell is going on, Robert?” the President said between clenched teeth as they were escorted by the Secret Service to the west wing of the White House. It was not quite an evacuation, but the Secret Service agents were making all of them walk very quickly indeed.