“Anything and everything to do with what happened in Pakistan and Texas…whatever the hell I deem necessary.” The suit puffed the cigar again and smiled at him. “Basically, none of it ever happened.”
“And Bridger’s reputation?”
“Clean and clear.” The man stood up straight and eyed Bridger. “Hell, I’ll even redact his entire military career if he wants.”
Bobby shook his head. “Just clear my name.” He motioned toward Roger. “And full reinstatement for my buddy Roger there.”
William Jameson eyed the young FBI agent. He rolled the cigar around in his mouth then slowly nodded. “Done.”
Jay nodded at the man. “Viktor gets released now.”
Jameson sighed and nodded. “He’s being processed as we speak.”
Bobby stepped forward and narrowed his gaze on the older man. “And you personally oversee the fast track for a Visa for al-Abadi.”
Jameson snorted and shook his head. “No fucking way. The man is a wanted criminal. He sold—”
“We know what he’s done.” Bridger cut him off. “But it was you and yours that made it impossible for him to return home. If you hadn’t caused this fuckfest to happen, he’d still be selling small arms to wanna-be jihadists or freedom fighters or rebels or whatever the hell they call themselves.” Bridger pointed at the man with his good arm. “But you decided to piss in their Post Toasties so now…he’s your guest for the rest of his natural life.”
Jameson blew out another puff of blue-gray smoke and narrowed his gaze at the man. “Fine. Consider al-Abadi your new neighbor.”
Jay motioned with his hand. “Give me the papers.”
Jameson snapped his fingers and Ingram handed him the folder. He laid out the papers and handed the men a pen. He fought a sneer as he looked at Jay. “If you or any of your men go back on this agreement, you will immediately be transported to the darkest hole I can find and tossed under it.”
Jay nodded, a slight smile forming as he eyed the CIA director. “And if you or any of yours decide to backslide on your end, there’s not a force in heaven or hell that will stop us from getting to you.” He signed the paper and handed the pen to Steve. “Again.”
Gregg nodded absently his eyes locked in a thousand yard stare. “I’d hate to think what would happen if that information ever did make it to the public.” All of the heads in the room turned and looked at him. He suddenly sobered and glanced around. “Just saying.”
Jameson turned to Ingram. “Tell disbursing to cut these men a check.”
Gregg quickly caught Jay’s attention. “Gold! Tell him we only accept gold.”
Jay rolled his eyes. “I would say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, but…”
“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.” Jameson turned and walked back to the window.
Bridger signed his paper then looked up at Ingram. “Tell me something. Was it really worth all of those people’s lives?” Ingram shook his head, not understanding. “Stealing your boss’s job. Was it worth killing all of those innocent people?”
Jameson turned slowly and glared at him. “Mind what’s yours. You don’t have the mental aptitude for politics.”
“If that’s your way of saying I’m not sleazy enough to play the politics game, I’ll take it as a compliment.”
The three men watched as Bridger and the Baba Yaga group exited the office. “Mister Chesterfield. I believe we have unfinished business with you.”
Darren felt his blood run cold and his face was visibly pale. He turned slowly and stood at attention. “Yes, sir.”
Jameson glanced to Colonel Nelson and gave a barely perceptible nod. “The end effect of the mission was still a success. The pieces are in play to remove the NSA director and, as planned, Deputy Director Ingram will be filling that void. Because of that, you are being promoted to Station Chief.” Nelson handed the man an overstuffed portfolio. “In Karachi.”
Darren swallowed hard and took the portfolio. He gave the men a curt nod. “I’d better get brushed up on—”
“You’d better get packing. Your flight leaves in the morning.” Jameson gave him a tight lipped smile then stuffed the cigar back in his mouth. “Goodbye, Mister Chesterfield.”
Darren nodded then slipped out the door.
The three men were silent for a moment before Colonel Nelson broke that silence. “We should have just disappeared them. It would save a lot of money and—”
“Colonel, you aren’t seeing the bigger picture.” Jameson stepped to his desk and crushed the cigar in the ashtray. “We have plans for Mister Bridger.” He glanced at Ingram and smiled broadly. “Big plans indeed.”
38
The Best Diner in Texas, Middle of Nowhere
THE MEN SAT around a large table at a greasy spoon diner. The waitress had just dropped off their coffee and was turning in their orders when Roger looked at Bridger. “Buddy, I saw your house…well, what’s left of it. It’s just a smoking hole in the ground.”
Bobby nodded. “I went by there before I came to the hangar.” Bobby sipped his coffee and shrugged. “I’ll find a place to crash.”
Deric scanned their copy of the “bill” that Jay turned in to the CIA director. “Man, somebody padded the hell out of this.” He looked at Slippy. “You sure you weren’t a government accountant in a previous life?”
Slippy shrugged. “Possibly.” He reached for the bill and scanned it. “Yeah, I might have been a little heavy handed but…hey, if they’ll pay five hundred bucks for a toilet seat…”
“And eight hundred for a hammer?” Steve laughed.
Jay snatched the bill from Slippy’s hand and looked at it. “In all honesty, we’re probably looking at pocketing…what? Somewhere between 1.7 and 1.8 million each?”
Slippy nodded as he sipped his coffee. “Somewhere around there.”
Jay tossed the bill on the table. “I know it’s not the lotto, but you could rebuild your house ten times over with that much, couldn’t you?”
Bobby shrugged. “The real appeal of the place was that nobody knew about it.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I think maybe I’ve been
