5
Senator James Halsey stood next to his prize quarter horse that he had brought with him from Texas, a piece of the Lone Star State that would never get out of his blood. Whenever he needed to clear his head from the crap that seeped through every crack of the political scene in the nation’s capital, he found his therapy in a good ride.
Having just clicked off the phone with that mystery man, Jake Adams, Halsey glanced at his reluctant riding partner, his lawyer and advisor, Brock Winthrop. The man had grown up in Boston and had not known the first thing about horses until the senator forced him to start riding with him a year ago. Halsey didn’t trust anyone who wouldn’t get his balls smashed by leather on the back of a good horse. Winthrop was not just reluctant, though, he was downright afraid of horses, and the horses could sense it, giving the lawyer almost no control whatsoever.
The senator smiled as he nimbly got onto his spotted gray mare and shoved his right boot into the stirrup. “Jesus, Brock, loosen up on the reins or you’ll drive that bit to his eyes.”
“Sorry,” the lawyer said. “I thought this was like the parking brake. And I’m not sure my feet are right in these things.”
Brock Winthrop was just a little over five feet tall, with features like an actual professional jockey, or that of a female gymnast, only with more hair on his head and less muscle structure. Halsey had considered a few times the possibility that the man’s parents had done some sort of gender selection upon birth, and selected the wrong way. But the man was a damn good lawyer and advisor.
“The stirrups are fine, Brock,” Halsey assured him. “Let’s start off slowly. No need to work up a lather.” Washington was hot and steamy this late June evening.
Once the senator’s mare started in motion, the lawyer’s horse seemed to simply follow her lead. “That gelding you’re on was her colt,” Halsey said. “He’ll pretty much follow her anywhere she goes.”
Once they got away from the stable and out into the open green pasture, the lawyer gave his horse a little kick to come up alongside his boss. “Senator, what can you tell me about this new man you hired to find Sara?”
Senator Halsey looked at his friend. They had known each other since they both attended Yale law school together, with Halsey a year ahead in the program. “When we’re out here alone, Brock, just call me Jim like you always have.” He hesitated and watched his old friend try to smile, despite his obvious pain in the saddle. “You need to rise up with the gate of the horse or you’ll end up singing soprano in the church choir. There’s a natural flow to every horse’s movement. Don’t buck that motion. You won’t win the battle against a half ton of muscle. But also let him know who’s the boss or he won’t respect you.” The same could be said about humans, he thought.
“Okay, Jim, I’m trying. About this man you hired.”
Halsey hadn’t forgotten. He just wasn’t sure how much he wanted to share. “I don’t know that much about him. What have you found out about Jake Adams?”
“I…how do you know I looked into him?”
Halsey smiled. “You just told me.”
Shaking his head, the lawyer said, “Right. Well, there’s not much to tell from my end. My contact at State couldn’t tell me much other than the fact that Adams had been an Air Force officer in the intelligence field. His work in the CIA is still classified. I did find out a little about some of his cases since going private.”
Senator Halsey knew most of those exploits already, but he didn’t want his lawyer to know this. “Such as?”
“A few years ago he single-handedly took down a Kurdish terrorist group,” the lawyer said.
Actually that was more than a decade ago, Halsey remembered. He had been in the House at the time on the Intelligence Committee and had gotten a briefing on that case.
“And?”
The lawyer hunched his shoulders just as the horse rose up sharply, with comical affect. “I hear he somehow avoided the entire Chinese Army, on the run for days, and then parachuted into Russia to stop the theft of our airborne laser system.”
Halsey smiled, knowing his advisor and lawyer was only partially true. Adams had actually been dropped from a B-2 bomber in a classified pod system. “Sounds like you have a man crush on Jake Adams.”
“Maybe a little,” Winthrop said. “So, I’m guessing he should be able to find your sister.”
“I hope so,” Halsey admitted.
They rode for a while in silence.
Finally, the lawyer said, “You just talked with Adams. Where is he now?”
Senator Halsey considered the question. Brock Winthrop had felt a little hurt when he had been told that he would no longer be running the search for Sara Halsey Jones. “Is this about me taking a more active role in the search for Sara?”
Winthrop pulled back on the reins, bringing his horse to an abrupt stop. The senator made the same move with his horse. “Jim, I really think you should let me take control of this.”
“She’s my sister.”
“All the more reason to let someone else run lead.”
Halsey thought about it and realized his advisor and lawyer might be right. Besides, sometimes it was nice to be able to focus the blame of failure on someone else should the effort to find Sara fail. Not that he expected that result. Much like his new searcher Jake Adams, he had never really failed at anything in his life.
“All right,” Senator Halsey agreed, giving a little click with his tongue and a slight jab with his boots in the mare’s ribs, sending them forward again. “You keep track of Adams. But make damn sure you don’t piss the guy off. Now that we got the man out of prison we have no leverage hanging over him.”
“There’s always money.” Winthrop smiled as he tried to keep his manhood intact and away from the hard saddle.
The senator shook his head. “Adams doesn’t give a rat’s ass about money. He’s doing quite well for himself following a couple of his last cases. He’s an idealist.”
“Seems you have that in common with him.”
“Remember what my hero once said, ‘Trust but verify.’”
“Back to Ronald Reagan?”
“The best damn president in my lifetime. But I mean it, Brock. Verify what Adams is doing, but trust his judgment. If you go after him too strongly he will tell you where to go. I need him, so don’t piss him off.”
“Understood. But I assure you I didn’t push too hard on the last two men we sent to find your sister.”
The senator knew that also, since he had verified his lawyer’s actions every step of the way. He didn’t just spout off the former president’s words, he lived by them.
“Jim?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I’m gonna need to ice my nuts when we’re done.”
The senator laughed and then kicked his horse hard while letting up some on the reins, sending his horse into a quick trot. He could hear his lawyer and advisor screaming like a little girl as his gelding rushed to keep up with its mother, bringing a satisfying smile to the senator’s face.
6
Having caught the first flight out of Trapani, Sicily, Jake Adams was dragging slightly from lack of sleep. The Tunisian prison was terrible, but not the worst he’d ever experienced. That record went to his extended stay at a former Soviet prison, where the GRU had tortured him relentlessly and gotten nothing for their Draconian efforts. Nothing but bogus misinformation. Jake’s favorite weapon.
But Jake’s lack of sleep the previous night came from the quiet hotel where he had stayed. That, and the fact that he had to keep one eye open for those two Greeks he had run across on the ferry, made for some marginal rest. In fact, he had gotten more sleep on the small commuter flight from Trapani to Rome, with a quick stop in Palermo.