“If he didn’t know it himself, he’d have no laws or procedures to follow, no one to report back to. No one to answer to. He’d just do the right thing!”
Vincent had worded his point carefully, picking up on a number of failings of recent operations that had caused significant discomfort among the attendees.
“We’re listening,” said the Homeland boss.
Vincent spent the next twenty minutes detailing the benefits of how Sean could have resolved a number of previous operations and, as he was no longer a sworn member of law enforcement, would have avoided the constraints that had caused previous failures.
“And the President has agreed this?” asked the FBI Director warming to the idea.
“Yes,” replied the CIA Director. “And he is smoothing it over with the Attorney General as we speak.”
“So when does he start?” asked the CIA Director, turning to Vincent.
“That’s a little trickier. Obviously, Sean can never know what we’re doing, he’d never agree to it,” offered Vincent awkwardly. “As I said, he’d have to be so deep he didn’t know it himself.”
“But how will he know what the mission is?”
“We just put him where the trouble is. He seeks out trouble like flies seek shit and once he finds it, he won’t stop 'til he fixes it!”
“Sorry, you really have lost me now. If he doesn’t know he’s working for us, how do we get him to where we need him?” asked the FBI Director.
“That’s where Andy comes in.” Vincent turned to the Head of the US Marshalls. “The Witness Protection Program.”
“I suppose we can justify it. He does have a thirty million dollar bounty on his head,” shrugged Andy.
“He’ll never agree to go in it,” said Vincent.
“But you just said that’s how we control him,” said the FBI Director, perplexed.
“Yes but not directly,” replied Vincent.
“Jesus Vincent, will you just tell us what the fuck you’re planning?” asked the Homeland boss.
“We need Sean in Maine, right?”
FBI and Homeland nodded, that was the information that they had received. A cell had set up in Maine and was planning an attack on a nuclear reactor.
“Andy, get ready to transport Katie and James Fox to Maine from their current location.”
“Bob,” Vincent turned to the FBI Director. “Call your men and tell them that Sean is free to leave. Tell them to tell Sean that his case has collapsed that he’s a free man. And then get them to pass the phone to him. I need to speak to him.”
Bob did as instructed and handed the phone to Vincent.
“Vincent?” asked Sean.
“Sean,” said Vincent in a panicked voice. “I’ve just heard the cartel has Katie’s address in Florida, St Petersburg, 1220 Northshore Drive NE, Apartment 372…Sean? Hello? Sean?”
Vincent ended the call. Sean had already gone. A number of confused faces looked at him in the room.
“It’ll take him how long to get to Florida from Washington?”
“Three, four hours by plane,” replied Andy, the Head of the US Marshalls.
“OK, in five hours, get your team in place to move the Foxes to Maine and in three hours, I’ll notify the cartel of their location in Florida.”
“You’re actually going to tell the cartel?”
“I have to, otherwise Sean would never believe it was real.”
“We’ll send a few agents dressed like Los Zetas to do a drive by, he’ll never know the difference,” offered the Homeland boss.
“Not a good idea,” suggested Vincent, laughing. “You wouldn’t want anyone in the shoes of the cartel, trust me!”
Sean raced back across the tarmac to the Governor’s plane. He just made it before the door closed. He had to get to Florida and kill whoever the motherfuckers were that would try to kill his family.
He smiled at the thought of seeing his nephew, James, again. The thought of seeing Katie also stirred some very pleasant thoughts, perhaps inappropriately, considering she was married to his brother. Or at least had been. A brother he never knew he had or had ever met. Perhaps they weren’t that inappropriate after all.
First things first though, he had some scumbags to deal with. And then perhaps they could all go to the beach together.
