the rest of the information on his Blackberry.
“Preston?” urged Russell.
“Sorry, a lot of techno gobbledygook, basically through various scans, X-ray, infra red etc… they’ve been able to locate a grave with three bodies and in the remnants of a charred cabin, three other remains.”
“Six remains. We only sent four guys,” interrupted Johnson.
“Hmm, this is where it gets a bit messy. In the cabin, two of the remains are adults but the third was an infant and from the comparisons, it looks as though it was just a baby.”
The room went silent as all four computed the information. Taking out a trained operative or even an innocent adult was one thing but a baby was not something even these four would take lightly.
“Oh and a dog,” added Preston. “They found the remains of a dog.”
“And they’re definitely all dead?” asked Gates, a distinct tremble in his voice giving away his feelings.
“I’m afraid so. The satellite can detect a heartbeat and all seven bodies are definitely deceased.”
“So it would appear we’ve killed his partner, wife or whatever, his child and his dog. And to his credit, he has already dealt with the imbeciles we sent to deal with him and him alone.” Russell’s voice rose with every word. He turned to Johnson.
“We agreed to take out the brother because you said it would solve a bigger problem in the long term.”
Johnson opened his mouth to interrupt Russell but a deadly look from Russell made it clear that would not be a good move.
“So far, going after the brother has resulted in two innocent deaths and the failure of the assassination of Charles Baker. It has been a total and complete disaster. Explain to me again why I listened to you?”
Johnson composed himself before he replied, Russell was not a man known for his patience. Whatever Johnson was about to say would potentially be the difference between him remaining in post or having to spend the next week looking over his back and around every corner, wondering how they were going to kill him. He had fucked up but he still believed taking Sam out was imperative; four highly trained killers were testament to that.
“Because you have to trust me when I say you want Sam Baker dead.”
“And why would that be?” asked Russell.
“Because if he were alive, he would not rest until he found his brother’s killers and eliminated each and every person involved. Including the four of us in here.”
“I am the Vice President of the United States of America and soon to be the President. We are talking about one man here. Get a grip Allan. What’s the big deal?”
“Because if I wanted to assassinate the President of the United States, he’d be the one man I’d turn to, to get the job done.”
The words hung in the air as each of the men digested exactly how highly the Director of the CIA regarded Sam Baker.
A rather less indignant Russell eventually spoke.
“So why the hell didn’t you send a better team to deal with him, four amateurs to kill an assassin, are you mad?”
“Of course not, I sent four ex-Special forces killers. They weren’t amateurs, anything but. That’s exactly why we needed to take him out!”
Before Russell could respond, his phone rang.
“Russell,” he announced as he answered the phone.
Gates, Johnson and Preston sat and watched as Russell’s demeanor instantly changed to that of a chastised child. After what seemed a lifetime, Russell spoke.
“Yes, Sir,” he replied and replaced the handset.
Visibly shaken, he turned to his audience. “Guys, I cannot emphasize enough how imperative it is that we find and eliminate the Bakers.”
All were interrupted by a knock at the door as Russell’s assistant entered the room.
“Sir, sorry to interrupt but I have the President holding on line 2. I just realized you had finished the other call.”
All three attendees looked at each other in shock, the question clear in each other’s faces. The VP had just called someone ‘Sir’. They had all assumed he had been talking to the President, the only person the Vice President was ever likely to call ‘Sir’. Who in the hell was pulling the strings and who were they working for?
Chapter 16
“Taxi!” shouted Senator Charles Baker for the first time in many years. Agent Clark did what she did best. She watched and surveyed everything and every person in sight. So far, it seemed they had evaded whatever the hell was going on. Although it did seem apparent that the Senator’s life was in danger, it was not from Yuri Andriev. Travis, it appeared from the indignation in his face, was on their side but the Senator had been clear he trusted nobody but Clark and even then, Clark didn’t fully believe him.
As the taxi stopped at their side, Clark gave the driver a once over before allowing the Senator to enter the vehicle.
“OK, where to?” she asked turning to Baker.
“BWI, train station,” announced Baker. As the driver pulled away, he smiled. Baltimore Washington International train station was a thirty mile run and outside the city limits. That would be a hefty bill and from the passengers’ attire, he knew they were good for it.
“What the hell for?”
“Sam has a plan. Actually, Sam has a plan for everything. Anyway, if he gave me a warning or if ever I were in danger, he planned a route for me. In fact, sorry, do you have a cell phone?”
Clark reached into her pocket and handed Baker her phone. Without so much as a thank you, Baker flicked the cell through the open window of the cab, quickly followed by his own.
Clark could only turn and watch as her cell, with five years of stored numbers, disintegrated under the tires of the car behind. It wasn’t the loss of the phone that upset her, it was forgetting to back up the memory of all her contacts that was really pissing her off.
“Anything else they could use to track us?” asked Baker, ignoring Clark’s look of horror over the loss of her phone.
“Not sure if they can track my radio communicator,” she answered realizing she had to get back to the job in hand.
“Well, now is not the time to risk it, Get it off and out the window please.”
As Clark disposed of her radio communicator, Baker sat back and tried to remember all the steps Sam had talked him through many years earlier. It had all seemed like nonsense at the time but Sam had made Charles repeat every step twice as he had talked him through his escape route. He had argued how ridiculous it was. He was a Senior Senator and was going to be Head of the Defense Committee, not the President. Sam had cautioned that it was for exactly that reason that he was talking him through the plan. He had emphasized more than once that Charles had no idea what he was getting himself into by accepting the Chairmanship. He was going to be playing with people whose life was war and where contracts were measured in billions of dollars and hundreds of thousands of jobs. These were not people you wanted to upset and as Chairman for the United States Senate Subcommittee for Defense Appropriations, you were going to upset a few people, no matter what you did. Sam needed to disappear for a while but only if Charles would take him seriously. They had argued long and hard over Sam’s decision to retire. Charles wanted him to come to Washington and talk about the explosion but Sam had had enough. Also, if Charles was going to be Chairman, he had to go. Sam had been called before the committee on a number of occasions and felt any future appearance could do nothing but embarrass his brother.
With the decision made, Charles had repeated the plan twice. Once Sam was happy he had taken it on board, he had left. That had been over three years earlier and Charles had not spoken to, nor seen him since. But the plan, just as Sam had intended, had remained with Charles ever since. Don’t use Union Station, it’s too obvious, use BWI, it’s big, busy and they’d never expect it. If you went there, they’d watch the airport, not the train station. Dump any cell phone or communication device. Don’t use any credit cards, use cash only. Always have $500 cash on you at all
