“Did anyone else notice his behavior?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
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“Thomas Stansfield.” Arthur grew more concerned. “Are you sure?”
“Completely.”
“How much did he see?”
“Everything. You know how he is, Arthur. The man is a professional.
He takes everything in.”
“What exactly did he see?”
“He saw Garret fidget in his chair, his brow break out in a sweat, and his eyes darting back and forth between me and the transcript of the phone conversation. I was watching
Stansfield stare at Stu, and then, just like you or I would have done, he followed Stu’s eyes across the table to me. He took the whole thing in.” Arthur sighed. “Well, I would have preferred for that not to have happened, but I don’t think it will affect us. As I said earlier, there is no way they can trace this back to us.”
“As long as Mr. Garret keeps his mouth shut.”
“He will stay quiet. He has strong survival instincts.”
“I know he does. That’s what worries me. What if Stansfield puts two and two together and makes a wild guess that you were the one who ordered the hit on Olson?
Stansfield knows you hated him.” Nance paused to let Arthur think about the scenario and then continued, “Mr. Garret’s survival instincts are so strong that he would turn on us in a second if it meant saving himself.” Arthur looked at Nance and then into the fire.
He watched the flames flicker while he contemplated his options, looking at every angle, trying to determine if Garret was more of a threat or an asset. He imagined
Stansfield pulling Garret aside and catching him off guard, telling him that he knew all about his connection with Arthur and that they were behind the assassinations of Olson and Turnquist.
Stansfield could easily speculate and connect the dots, but that meant nothing as long as Garret kept his mouth shut. The motives for killing a career politician were abundant.
They could prove nothing without one of them talking, and as he and Nance had discussed earlier, the odds of that happening were zero.
Arthur concluded that they would have to head this one off before Stansfield had the chance to act. “I think that we need to be proactive on this and let Mr. Garret know what the consequences would be if he talked.” Arthur ran one of his thin fingers over his bottom lip. “Tell Mr. Garret that I have made arrangements to have him dealt with if he
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ever whispers a word of this to anyone …. Tell him that even in the event of my death, the order will be carried out.”
“I think that is a wise decision. I know just how to handle it.”
“Good. I’ll leave the details up to you.” Arthur walked over to the coffee table and grabbed two cigars. “Let’s step outside. I have some other things I would like to discuss with you.” Nance followed his mentor across the room and out into the cool night air.
O’Rourke and Coleman were concentrating on the guard who was standing watch at the edge of the cliff when Hackett came crackling over their earpieces.
“Zeus, this is Cyclops. I just spotted two men in suits that walked out of the house and are standing on the patio. Do you copy, over?”
O’Rourke had his night-vision goggles flipped up and Coleman had his down. Both of them looked toward the house.
Coleman saw them right away, the goggles illuminating them in a clear green-and-black picture. O’Rourke could see the bright red tips of the cigars, but nothing else. It was hard to make out their silhouettes in the dark. Coleman whispered into his mike, “I copy, Cyclops. I see two men …. I think one of them is our boy. I can’t tell who the other guy is, over.” Coleman flipped his mike up and said to Michael, “It’s nice to know Augie was right about this cigar thing.” O’Rourke quietly pulled his goggles down and peered toward the house. He adjusted his goggles and brought the two men into focus. Being careful to keep his voice down, he said, “The guy on the right is Arthur, but I can’t see who the guy on the left is.”
“I can’t either,” responded Coleman. “Cyclops, we can’t see who the other guy is, can you, over?”
“Yes, he looks familiar, but I haven’t got a real good look at him, over.” O’Rourke
Was watching Arthur talk, and then the other man turned his face toward them, exhaling a puff of smoke. O’Rourke squinted and tapped Coleman on the shoulder. “I think that’s
Mike Nance.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m almost positive.” Michael pulled his mike down. “Cyclops, this is Apollo. Is the other man the President’s national security adviser, Mike Nance, over?” Cyclops moved his rifle sight from Arthur to the other man. Nance removed the cigar from his mouth and
Cyclops got a full shot of his face. “That’s a roger, the other man is Mike Nance, over.”
