After Ron’s warning, Senator Becker had made Karen promise to keep what she had seen at Oshkosh to herself, and she had. But if scandal broke during a presidential election campaign, Becker couldn’t risk her stubborn streak showing itself again. Perhaps if she hadn’t threatened to go to the press about Jennifer Upton years ago, he would have been able to trust her. But no.
That was why Becker had had dinner with her last week. One final check to make sure Karen hadn’t told anyone anything she shouldn’t have. Her accident wasn’t originally supposed to occur during the Oshkosh airshow. Until recently, it was to have been a target of opportunity. Scheduled to occur during any number of her summer air shows. But then Karen had been selected for this performance at Oshkosh. The other members of the cabal were to be eliminated at that time. So with all of Syed’s assets in the area, taking care of Karen here had been the most efficient solution.
While he tried not to think about it, Becker couldn’t help but wonder how the sympathy vote might impact him in the years to come. His beautiful daughter, lost in a tragic accident. Tearful interviews recalling how much she had meant to him. Even better would be if Syed’s explosive residue was discovered by investigators. The cartels or some of the rogue agents the ISI was cutting loose would take the blame. Then her death would be seen as a horrific attack on the senator. A man beyond reproach, having paid the ultimate sacrifice in the name of our country.
A grandfather clock ticked behind him. The sands of time. The endless prompt of ambitious men. As he grew older, the scarcity of time filled him with fear. Fear that he would not achieve his goals. Fear that he would not be seen as great. Fear that his competitors would discover him and take from him that which he had worked so hard to achieve.
Senator Becker walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a tall glass of Bombay Sapphire gin. He then took a large cube of ice from the mini fridge, dropped it in, and poured in a splash of soda water. He sipped it and looked out over the darkening lake. Here he would be alone with his pain.
And with his relief.
The hard part was finally coming to an end. The witnesses were being removed. The loose ends tied up.
Senator Becker took another sip from his glass and then placed it on the top of a knee-high black safe that rested next to his office desk. He spun the dial back and forth several times from memory, hearing a click as the final digit in the combination unlocked the safe. Then he slid the latch downward and pulled open the sturdy door. He reached inside with two hands and removed the small black device that the lobbyist, Joseph Dahlman, had given him three years earlier.
The point-to-point laser communication was very secure, and the device wouldn’t store any traceable information.
Dahlman had been Senator Becker’s only contact in Washington. They had rarely met face-to-face in the past year. Even the annual cabal meetings at Oshkosh were coming to an end now. Becker was getting too high up on the food chain. People were getting suspicious. Ian Williams had warned him that this might happen eventually if things went according to plan. Too much attention. Too many questions.
Too many loose ends. Even Karen.
He finished the drink and wiped his eyes, then poured some more gin in the glass. He took another sip, then put the glass down on the desk.
Senator Becker placed the black box on his desk and opened the window the way he’d been trained, making sure that the transmitter was aimed at the gazebo across the small bay. The cabal acquired the property through a cutout over a decade ago, using it as a vacation spot for visiting members during the annual meeting, and renting it out during the rest of the year so as not to look suspicious. The communications device connected to the receiver and began flashing, and Becker was prompted to place his finger down on the scanner and enter a passcode. The double verification allowed the encryption key, stored in the device’s hard drive, to be transmitted to a similar device that had been set up on the gazebo.
Becker picked up his binoculars and looked towards the gazebo. There were only two men sitting there, as he expected.
Williams and Syed. Their final meeting. Risky, but they would have called it off if there were a problem.
The link established, Becker put on the headset and listened to their voices for the first time in a year.
It was Syed who spoke first. “We are sorry for your loss, Herbert.”
“Thank you, Abdul.”
“But your sacrifice and determination have once again proven to be unmatched.”
“Yes.”
He fought back the taste of bile in his throat, taking a moment to maintain his composure. “So, we are done now?”
“Almost.”
“Almost?”
“Your government is under the impression that you are a target. Ronald Dicks is seen as the source of the intelligence leaks. But there is a complication. The CIA was interrogating Upton.”
Senator Becker’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“The CIA has a team here in Wisconsin.”
“But I thought… how is that possible?”
“Herbert, be calm. It has been taken care of. We instructed Miss Upton on what to say. After speaking to her, we can confirm that the CIA is unaware of our true relationship. They are now under the impression that Ian Williams worked through Ronald Dicks, and that you had no knowledge of illegal activities. All others with knowledge of our relationship have been terminated, with the exception of a few members here with us now. Upton is no longer a problem. She is dead, and her body will not be found. You shall continue to say that Ronald Dicks was your only contact with Dahlman, and that you had no inappropriate foreign contact.”
Becker simply said, “I understand.”
He ran through the plans and possible options in his head. This was always going to be a complicated exit strategy. He simply had too many coconspirators and witnesses that were close to him.
Jennifer Upton had been naïve enough to think her personal relationship with him would protect her. That was what Becker had promised her. Syed had taken care of her now.
That she had spoken to the CIA was very worrisome. He should get off this device soon and get back to D.C. Syed would send a team into his house to empty his safe and clean up any evidence.
There still remained members of the inner circle across the bay that knew of his participation, however. The group of executives and politicians, of lawyers and executives from around the world. The men who had helped to orchestrate the opioid boom and reaped the rewards. Cash payments to numbered accounts, with a final large bonus payment expected today, as the new contract terms were settled. Williams could just make out some of these men, sitting across the bay in the backyard of the Pakistani mansion. Surrounding a fire pit. Drinking and laughing.
The final names on Ian Williams’s list of participants. The last of the loose ends that must be dealt with.
Now it was Ian Williams’s voice. “Herb, it’s likely that you’ll be interviewed by American counterintelligence.”
He took another gulp of his gin. “I thought we were doing all this so that we could avoid—”
“It will be crucial that you maintain a consistent recollection of the facts. If you do this, you’ll come out of it unscathed. You knew nothing about any quid pro quo on campaign contributions. You only met me briefly in Afghanistan. You didn’t characterize your conversations with me as a recruitment, and you don’t recall the specifics anyway. It was almost fifteen years ago. Even if we did speak, you never went along with anything I said. Anyone who says anything other than that is a liar. Ron Dicks was the only one we ever worked with, and he didn’t tell you what he was doing.”