All Necessary Force

him a breather without interruption.”

Kurt inwardly winced. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

“What I can’t figure out is how you got past the chief of staff in the first place. Nobody else gets to ambush the president.”

Nobody else runs an organization that can bring down his entire administration with one mistake. “I don’t know. Just lucky, I guess.”

Sally was rolling her eyes when President Payton Warren entered the reception area, talking with a scrum of people bringing him up to speed for his budget meeting. He did a double take when he saw Kurt. Without waiting for Kurt to speak, he said, “Okay, everyone have a seat out here. I’ll be back in…”

Kurt said, “Five minutes, tops.”

After closing the door and shaking hands, President Warren said, “This must be bad news. Did Jennifer get sent to the hospital or something?”

When Kurt had agreed to let Jennifer attempt Assessment, the biggest obstacle had been that she was a civilian. They could camouflage the death or injury of any military or CIA member simply by claiming a training accident, but a civilian would be exponentially harder. Friends and family would have to buy the story, something that would be very, very difficult to control.

“No. Nothing like that. Believe it or not, she passed with flying colors.”

President Warren smiled. “Good for her. I’ll bet that’s caused a little barking.”

“Yea, it has, but they’ll get over it. In the end, they all respect ability, and she has it. Actually, she is part of the reason I’m here.”

“Okay. What do you have?”

“Well, Pike’s taking her, along with Knuckles’ team, on a cover development trip to Cambodia in two days. Get the business ready for operations. I need to divert them.”

“And you came to me? Sounds like Oversight Council business.”

President Warren was referring to the council that supervised Taskforce activities. Made up of thirteen people, including the president, they were the only ones who knew of the Taskforce’s existence, and they approved every mission as a single body. All the council members were either in the executive branch of government or private citizens. None came from the legislative branch.

“It’s personal. And not worth the council’s time. I got a call from the defense attache at the embassy in Cambodia. He’s a friend of mine.” Kurt paused a second, then continued. “Apparently, someone turned in some artifacts that belonged to my father. It may lead to his body.”

Because of the Taskforce bond, the president was as close to Kurt as to any of his advisors. In some ways closer, since Kurt wasn’t part of the political machine. The president could relax around him, be himself without being on stage as the head of the most powerful country on the planet, or worrying about leaks for political gain. After getting used to being in the president’s presence, Kurt had relaxed as well. One night, late, after an Oversight Council update, Kurt had told him the story of his father becoming MIA on a secret mission during the Vietnam War. The Army had recovered the remains of the entire team minus Chris Hale, the team leader. No one knew why he wasn’t among the others in the wreckage of the helicopter. Kurt had been ten years old at the time. It had eaten at his soul every day since. He knew the president would understand.

“That’s great news… isn’t it,” President Warren said. “What did they find?”

“It’s not great news yet. Just good news. They found a rucksack pretty much destroyed by the elements. Inside was a Nikon SLR camera, a recon journal, some rotting Army T-shirts, and other odds and ends. The Nikon and the journal were packed in a waterproof rubber sack. They were the only things marginally serviceable.”

“What makes you think they were your father’s?”

“They were able to make out his name written in one of the T-shirts.”

The president nodded. “Okay. Sounds like it might be real. What do you need Pike’s team for?”

“Sir, I’d like to send him to the embassy to get the stuff. I know it’s breaking the rules, getting his team involved with a defense attache who has nothing to do with his cover, but he’s headed there tomorrow, and JPAC is going to take forever. The equipment won’t help them find my father. Whoever turned it in will do that. I really want that camera and journal before it ends up lost in bureaucratic limbo.”

Kurt knew that the Joint POW-MIA Accounting Command would do everything they could to recover his father, as they did for all investigations into MIAs from America’s wars overseas. He also knew that they were understaffed, and that for every person’s remains recovered by the command, there were probably three hundred bogus stories to investigate. Chris Hale was now at the bottom of that heap, with the camera and journal — the only thing left of Kurt’s father — tied up waiting its turn.

President Warren said, “That’s it? You just want Pike to swing by the embassy while he’s in-country?”

“Uhh. Well, no. My buddy can’t release the gear to Pike. There’s a huge trail of custody that has to be followed. Eventually, it ends at me, but I was hoping you could make some calls and cut through the red tape.”

The president smiled. “That’s easy. I’d be glad to do it, but I think you’re a little paranoid. Nobody’s going to give a shit about a camera from 1970.”

8

The man testifying before the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on Terrorism, Nonproliferation, and Trade droned on and on about some obscure prohibition against a technology transfer that was destroying the GDP of some obscure country, of which, apparently, the United States had some obscure but important reason to remain engaged. It was all Congressman Richard Ellis could do to even pretend to care. He had much more important things on his mind. At least important to him. He was thankful that this hearing was taking place in the Rayburn House Office Building, where his workplace was located, instead of the secure compartmented information facility buried underneath the Capitol Visitor Center, where the House Intelligence Committee met, his other committee obligation. It meant he could steal away to his office on the breaks.

A large, jovial man, he had a classic patrician’s face. He looked like a politician should, at least from the left. The profile on the right was marred by a three-inch birthmark that rose from his right eye and ran up into his hairline, like he’d smeared lipstick on his brow. He did his best to cover it with hair, and was always particular about camera angles.

Ellis was well liked on both sides of the aisle, but this conference was testing even his patience. He must be breathing from his ears. Finally, the man shut up, allowing Ellis time to whisper some nothings into the chairman’s ear and bolt.

As he arrived at his office, his secretary handed him a list of calls he’d missed. He thumbed through them until he found one that simply said Oakpark Industries with a number. The number was new, as expected. Every time he called Oakpark, he would dial a new number. Those were his rules, not theirs. Rules learned from a lifetime of practice. It was why he was still around.

He told his secretary to hold all calls and closed the door. Pulling open a drawer, he withdrew a brand-new pay-as-you-go cell phone. His number would be new as well. After this call, the phone would go in the trash. Ellis knew that the only way anyone was listening to phone calls either from him or from Oakpark was through a court order, which would dictate in no uncertain terms the number to be monitored. There was no way they could monitor a new phone every time he dialed the company. Well, they could, but nobody would let them. Call it a business expense.

A man answered on the third ring. Ellis wasted no time on pleasantries, not wanting to remain on the line any longer than necessary.

“Did you get the cargo?”

“Yeah, we got it. No issues.”

“Is it properly packaged? Like you were instructed?”

“Yes. I told you, no issues. Nobody will be able to tell what it is. We broke all the kits down into separate components, then lumped the like parts together. It looks like a bunch of metal plates and plastic containers. Just like the bill of lading says.”