“I thought you were a CIA agent?”
“I was.”
“But you told the officers here you were a CIA agent, is that not true?”
“No.”
“So you lied?”
“No, not true, double negative, ” replied Sean.
“Jesus, are you going to give me a straight answer?”
“I have been,” offered Sean with no hint of sarcasm.
The governor pulled up a chair and indicated for Sean to do the same. Sean flicked the chair with his right foot and spun it in his left hand and planted himself just as it landed perfectly in line with the Governor’s.
“Oh my God” exclaimed the governor. “That’s how I recognize you, James Fox!”
Sean looked at him with utter confusion. The governor was the same age as himself. How the hell did he know his father?
“That thing you just did with your chair, your father used to do the same thing.”
Sean thought back and realized he was right. That was exactly what his father used to do, kick and spin the chair before planting himself to perfection on the seat. Sitting on the chair back to front.
“How did you know my father?”
“Uncle James, he visited us.” The governor thought back. “About three or four times a year.”
“Uncle?” exclaimed Sean.
“Well that’s what I called him, he was a good friend of my mom and dads.”
“But I never met your parents?”
“They didn’t travel much after dad’s accident. In fact, I think it was the time they spent in Washington before I was born that they met your parents. Dad was too ill to travel to the funeral when they died.”
“So you are James Fox’s son!”
“Yep, Sean, Sean Fox.” Sean offered his hand again for a more personal meeting. “Pleased to meet you, Governor!”
Governor Brown took the hand and shook at in a completely different way than before. The firmness and strength had been replaced by a warmer friendlier shake.
“But wait a minute,” the governor pondered. “Didn’t I read you had died, that’s why I didn’t recognize you straight away. I thought you were dead!”
“Another Sean Fox,” smiled Sean not particularly wanting to revisit that story.
“OK,” replied the governor. “So anyway, who is this friend?”
Sean laughed as the governor leaned in conspiratorially, saying he knew Sean’s father it seemed was all he needed to crack Sean’s resolve.
“I’m afraid not, Mr Governor…”
“Rick, please call me Rick!”
“I’m afraid not, Rick. Let’s just say he has your best interests at heart.”
“Worth a shot!” replied the governor with a shrug. He obviously hadn’t expected Sean to fold.
“So you’re not in the CIA any longer?”
“No, left about eighteen months ago and just picked up this job to help out a friend.”
“So what do you do now?”
“Up until about one day ago, bodyguard and exec rescue in Afghanistan.”
“Sounds dangerous!”
“Not nearly as dangerous as here!” muttered Sean under his breath.
“Sorry?” asked the governor not quite catching what he had said.
“Very, but paid very well.”
“And now that you’ve done your favor for your friend?”
“One more little job and then life’s a beach.”
The governor considered Sean’s answer far more than Sean thought it deserved.
“How long will your little job last?”
Sean hadn’t really considered how long it would take him to get James back but the more he considered it he realized it really needed to be soon. Too many variables were in play and the situation could get out of control at any moment. James’ life really was hanging by a thread.
“Hopefully, we’ll have it wrapped up the end of the day!”
“Perfect, we leave for Moscow in three days!”
“Sorry?” asked Sean perplexed by the statement.
“I have a trip scheduled to Moscow as part of my build up to announcing my presidency. I need a bodyguard and you obviously fit the bill. Perfect.”
“The Secret Service will protect you.”
“I’m not on their radar yet because I have not announced my intention to run. So although I’ll get some protection, I’d much prefer you by my side. In any event we can swap stories on your old man!”
The Governor did not wait for an answer. He thrust a card in Sean’s hand and told him to call and get the arrangements. Whatever his per diem rate in Afghanistan would be matched.
Sean stuck the card in his pocket and waited for the governor to take the podium in the main area before sneaking out the back door of the complex. It seemed he had three days maximum to find James or find a way out of the Moscow trip. However, in all honesty, his assessment of hanging by a thread rang true. He really needed to get James back long before then.
Chapter 41
“Luis!” screamed El Jefe as he stared at the TV news in disbelief.
Juan walked into the room as El Jefe threw his coffee at the screen. “He’s not here, El Jefe,” he offered calmly.
“I’m shouting at him not for him!” he barked in frustration as two men ran in and quickly replaced yet another TV screen.
Juan Torres, El Jefe’s number two in command, had been at El Jefe’s side since the two were children. They had joined and left the army together and had created one of the most powerful cartels in the world from scratch. Juan Torres was as ruthless a man as El Jefe but some said, more worryingly, without the temper. His composure never changed. From making love to a beautiful woman to carving a man into twenty pieces in front of his family, his expression remained the same. Where El Jefe shouted, barked and threw things around, Juan spoke evenly and calmly.
“I have just been updated on the evening’s events, El Jefe,” he said pouring himself and El Jefe a fresh cup of coffee.
“The fucking CIA!” screamed El Jefe. “He gave my rifle to someone in the fucking CIA.”
“Yes I heard the report on the radio in the car, it is rather strange but I am sure he knows what he’s doing.” Juan knew when he needed to calm El Jefe down and offering his support to Luis’ plan would instantly help. El Jefe knew Juan was not fond of his nephew but did appreciate that sometimes the boy knew what he was doing.
However, Juan himself was no fool and understood there was a political game being played across the river. For forty years he had followed El Jefe, knowing that with El Jefe, he would achieve everything in life he ever wanted. El Jefe was a natural born leader; men feared and admired him in equal measure. They would lay down their lives for him without a second thought. Juan was far brighter but was also bright enough to know this would not endear him to El Jefe and as such had downplayed his intelligence and instead persuaded and nudged El Jefe cleverly and helped create the most feared cartel in the world. Most of El Jefe’s greatest ideas and decisions had been Juan’s but such was Juan’s ability to manipulate El Jefe, nobody, not even El Jefe realized it.
The introduction of Luis to the mix, the educated nephew, had been a constant thorn in his side but one that he was managing. Luis controlled what Juan wanted him to control and even then most of that was a sham. When El Jefe had suggested Luis look after Intel, Juan had agreed but only after he had suggested that he would act as number two in that area also. El Jefe agreed, seeing no reason as to why it didn’t make sense and in reality, every item of information was relayed to Juan before it reached Luis.
The one thing that had slipped under his radar was the Fat Jake debacle three months earlier. From start to finish, it had been an utter disaster; none of it of his making. Luis had uncovered Fat Jake’s meeting place while Juan was out of the country and had taken it to his uncle. Between the two idiots, they had worked out they could increase Los Zetas’ profits. The idea, in itself, was not a bad one if the meeting was, at face value, as it seemed. However, Juan Torres was not a man who would have allowed Fat Jake to operate without good reason and that was Luis and El Jefe’s first mistake.