“I’ve been better.”
“Sorry to hear that. What can I do for you?”
“I have something that I need to give you.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone.”
“All right, let me get my DayTimer and see when I have an opening.”
“This can’t wait.”
“Congressman, do you have any idea how busy I am right now?”
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“Yes, I do. Believe me, it won’t be a waste of your time.” McMahon paused. “When do you want to meet?”
“I’m down on the street, in my truck.”
“Ah … I’m in the middle of something right now, can you give me an hour?”
Michael tried to sound as relaxed as he could. “Special Agent McMahon, do you want to know who killed Senator Olson and Congressman Turnquist?” There was a moment of silence on the line and then McMahon responded, “All right, I’ll be down in five minutes.
Pick me up at the south entrance.” O’Rourke completed one more circle and pulled up to the curb. McMahon came out of the building a moment later and approached the truck with someone Michael didn’t recognize. Michael rolled down the passenger window and
McMahon leaned in, sticking his hand out. Michael grabbed it and said, “Who is she?”
“This is Irene Kennedy. She works for the CIA and has been helping out with the investigation.”
“Get in,” replied O’Rourke. McMahon climbed in the front seat and Kennedy got in back. Michael put the car into drive and pulled back out into traffic. Looking in the rearview mirror, Michael asked, “What do you do for the CIA, Dr. Kennedy?”
“I’m an analyst.”
“What do you analyze?”
“Terrorism is my specialty.”
“Are you familiar with a guy by the name of Arthur Higgins?” Kennedy moved forward. “Very What do you know about him?” Michael reached down and grabbed a letter-sized manila envelope from the center console and handed it to McMahon. “I found this on my doorstep this morning along with a tape, and you’re not going to believe what’s on it.”
Michael put the tape into the cassette player.
Stansfield and Roach entered the Situation Room and sat across the table from Nance and Garret. Both directors said hello to the President, but ignored his national security adviser and chief of staff. Nance hadn’t planned on Roach coming. He forced a slight smile onto his face and said, “Director Roach, we weren’t informed that you would be joining us this morning.”
“I asked him to come,” replied Stansfield. “Arthur was transported across state lines and killed. The investigation falls under the jurisdiction of the FBI.”
“what investigation?” asked Nance. “The investigation into his death.”
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“Surely you aren’t serious. We can’t have what Arthur did for the CIA brought under public scrutiny.”
“That will be up to Director Roach and the Justice Department.”
Stansfield looked at the President. “Sir, may I be blunt?”
“I would prefer it,” responded an aggravated Stevens. “Arthur Higgins was privy to a rather large amount of highly classified information.
My foremost concern is to identify the correlation between his being taken from his estate and being left at Mr. Garret’s house. I have to know what Arthur’s relationship was with Mr. Garret so I can assess any possible damage to the Agency. We can go about this one of two ways: Mr. Garret can either tell me and my people everything he knows under the protection of the national secrecy act, or he can tell his story under deposition to the
FBI.” The President looked at Garret and said, “Stu?”
Garret turned to Nance for direction. Nance cleared his throat and said, “Director
Roach, would you excuse us for a minute?” Roach didn’t say a word. He looked to
Stansfield, who nodded, telling him it was all right.
Roach got out of his chair and left the room. As soon as he was gone, Stansfield zeroed in on Garret. “What was your relationship to Arthur?”
Again, Garret glanced at Nance for support. Nance looked back across the table and said, “Arthur was helping us with a little project that had nothing to do with the CIA or the intelligence community.”
“What was the project?”
“I would rather not say.” Nance didn’t want to give in too quickly.
“That’s not how this is going to work, Mike. You either tell me, or the FBI starts digging, and neither of us want that.”
