Tomer eyed Wasner as he continued speaking.
“We are dealing with a matter of utmost national security here, an extremely urgent matter having to do with the potential use of weapons of mass destruction against a civilian population in this country. Are you getting the picture here, Tony?”
The FBI agent pointed at Chief Wasner, the heavy gold chain around his wrist swung like a tiny pendulum as he jutted his finger on every other syllable. “I don’t care how high your connections may be or what you think the threat may be. You cowboys are not out in some far-off dessert where you can get away with this shit. This is still America, and I have been put in charge of this investigation. You will be following my command now.”
“Agent Tomer,” said Wasner in a clinical tone, like a psychiatrist counseling a troubled client, “I believe this investigation has surpassed your scope of responsibility. It is no longer a law enforcement issue. It took place on a military installation involving known members of a foreign military service, and has become a military operation. I also believe that we need to act immediately on whatever Trooper Wyatt discovers while talking to this man. And I believe that if you have a problem with the way I’m running this operation, you will need to discuss that with my good friend and fellow SEAL, Torrence Hall, Deputy Director of Homeland Security, Western Region. He’s in Anchorage, I believe, this very night on some other business. I’m sure you have his direct cell phone number, n’est pas? If not, I do, and would be more than willing to share that information with you.”
Tomer curled his lip and sneered contemptuously as he realized that he had been checked. He was not willing to let Wasner get the last word in.
“So, you’re the leader of this outfit of baby-killers, huh? You must be the one who’s banging the pretty trooper, then.”
Marcus stiffened. Wasner noticed Marcus’s reaction, and a sly smile slid across his lips.
“I beg your pardon?” Wasner asked. His face softened to an expression of innocence.
Tomer leaned in close to Wasner’s face. His voice came out in a low, hoarse whisper. “Don’t think that just because you’re friends with a deputy director and may be banging an Alaska State Trooper you can get away with breaking the law, bub. She may have an exceptionally nice ass, but she won’t be able to shake that thing in court to defen…”
Before he could finish the sentence, Marcus spun around and heaved Tomer back into the log wall, his long, thick fingers clenched around Tomer’s throat. The FBI agent found himself suspended in the air, feet dangling six inches off the floor, held only by Marcus’s strangling one-handed grip.
Tomer’s face turned an even deeper red as he gasped for breath. He reached up with both hands to pull Johnson’s fingers from his throat, but couldn’t break the iron-like hold.
“Nobody is banging that trooper.” Marcus growled through clenched teeth. His voice cut the air with the quiet ferocity of a senior drill instructor. Marcus jabbed his left index finger into Tomer’s chest like a short steel rod. “And you will never insult her again.”
Marcus drove the point deep into the agent’s mind by slamming his head against the wall with a flip of his powerful wrist. “Now, there are eight dead men in the woods about thirty miles from here. I suggest you get some backup and go check it out. And if you ever open your mouth about anything that happened in this room, you’d best think hard before it comes out of your lips.”
He released Tomer. The FBI agent collapsed to the floor, gagging and gasping for breath. The purple hue in his face faded as the denied oxygen gradually perfused back into his blood cells.
Marcus towered over him. “Get your people out here to go check out that site,” he commanded. “We’ll leave someone to lead them to the location when they get here.”
Marcus turned toward the room. Lonnie rose from Sgt. Choi and walked toward them.
“What did he tell you?” Chief Wasner asked Trooper Wyatt as she approached.
“He’s a sergeant in the People’s Army of North Korea. He’s not really a commando. He’s a technical specialist who designed a device that could sniff the air for a specific chemical compound.” She looked back at Choi and said, “I told him that if he gave us everything he knew, we would untie him, and that we would try to get him immunity from trial and hide him here in America.”
“Ah, yes,” Wasner exclaimed. “Leave it up to a girl, and not only does he get to keep his balls intact and burn free, but he gets a ‘get out of jail free’ card, too.” He smiled at her sarcastically.
“We have to act fast. The others who got away have some really nasty bio-chemical weapon with them, and he wasn’t sure, but thinks they’re planning to use it right here in Alaska.”
Tomer recovered from the altercation and spoke into his cell phone. He hung up and rejoined the group with a newfound humility. “A team is on the way—two FBI and one more trooper. Where exactly is this site?”
Marcus turned to face him, but Tomer wouldn’t look into his eyes. “I’ll leave a pair of the SEALs here to lead you to it.”
The air of belligerent superiority with which Tomer had entered the room was gone. Lonnie had not heard their conversation, but had seen Marcus assault on the agent and had assumed what had happened. The personality change was very welcome.
“All right,” Wasner said, “what else did Choi say?”
“The substance was
