difficult for him to circumvent it.
Dandridge had arranged for Cooke to fly for EGenco and Midas. But it was Ackland who’d arranged for Mudhi al Rahman’s release from Gitmo; it was Ackland who had drawn Cooke into flying Mudhi first to Washington and then to the East End airport. Chuck Billings had been right about the cargo. In addition to the Saudi radical, the small plane had transported Semtex that Cooke had picked up in Colombia before flying to Guantanamo. He hadn’t known exactly what he was involved in, but after the Harper’s bombing he’d quickly figured it out. He’d contacted Ackland, whom he’d trusted. It was a poor choice of allies. Ackland had immediately arranged for the pilot’s murder.
It was Ackland who’d conceived of the scheme to use Mudhi to destroy anyone who could have cut into Midas’s profits, and simultaneously to terrorize the country.
Ackland had realized that Dandridge was going to lose the election. And Ackland wanted the vice presidency. Not just the nomination. He wanted to win.
He knew if Dandridge’s Midas manipulations came to light, both of their careers were over. So he killed two birds with one stone. No one was around to blow the whistle on Midas. And Dandridge’s popularity soared in the midst of the nation’s fear.
After Harper’s, it was not difficult to repeat the process.
And when he realized his hand could be overplayed, Ackland arranged for the scenario he’d created to come to an end: the decimation of what he claimed was the key terrorist group.
The murder of Mudhi al Rahman was meant to close the circle cleanly and permanently.
Except that Justin had gotten in the way.
Money and power, Justin thought. Nothing new, nothing different. The world will end over a battle for money and power.
When it was over, Stuller asked if Justin had any further questions. Justin said that he had a few.
“What about Hubbell Schrader?” he asked. “How did he get involved?”
“Ackland,” Stuller said. “Ackland drew him in slowly, got him appointed head of the New York bureau, which is quite a prestigious position. I’m sure Ackland promised him a shot at being head of the entire Bureau. And Ackland manipulated the man’s sense of patriotism. I believe that Agent Schrader was convinced he was doing something for the good of the country.”
“An awful lot of damage is done for the good of the country,” Justin said.
Stuller said nothing. Justin knew the attorney general’s political beliefs, knew what a hard-line patriot he was, and knew how torturous it must be for him to accept what had happened. The men he was bringing down weren’t just his friends, they were the core of his political and philosophical foundation. But Stuller was able to put his politics aside in this instance. Honesty and a commitment to his public duty had managed to win whatever ideological battle had to have gone on within him.
“It was Schrader who killed Billings, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Stuller said. “We can prove that.”
“And Ray Lockhardt, too?”
“I believe so. But I have no conclusive proof yet. We’re still working on it, although I don’t know what kind of priority it will receive, now that Schrader’s dead. Anything else?”
Justin hesitated. And Stuller noticed.
“Is there something else you need to know?” the attorney general asked.
“I’m not sure,” Justin told him. “But I’d like to reserve one last favor if I need it.”
“What is it?”
“If I need some further information, I’d like to be able to get it from Agent Chinkle. I just need to ask a few questions before bothering her again.”
“Let it rest, Jay,” Wanda said. “It’s over.”
“Probably,” he said. “But if I need you to run something for me, I’d like to know I can do it.”
When neither of them answered, Justin said, “Then let me ask you something right now.” He turned to Wanda, waited until she met his gaze head-on, and said, “You arranged for me to get out of Gitmo.”
She nodded and said, “I helped.”
“How?” he asked.
“I went to the attorney general. Told him what had happened, that Ackland had ordered you to be picked up. Attorney General Stuller intervened directly, made it clear that there was a lot of political pressure being applied and that if you did not emerge unscathed there would be repercussions.”
“Unscathed. You mean alive? They would have killed me otherwise, once they found out what they needed to know?”
“Yes.”
“So they let me go after that.”
“Yes,” Wanda said quietly.
“But not immediately after that.”
Neither Wanda nor Stuller spoke.
“You let them keep me down there,” Justin said to Wanda. “You let them keep me until you needed me back.”
Wanda turned away from him, could no longer look him in the eye. “Yes,” she said. “You told me once that good cops are the ones that make the right connections. And I know you’re a good cop.”
“So you let them keep me there. .”
“. . until I knew you’d figure it out. And would have to help us out.”
“Until you could play me and send me in to do your dirty work, to set up Ackland and Schrader.”
She nodded stiffly. Her mouth was too dry to speak.
Justin held his gaze until her head hung even lower, then he turned back to the attorney general. “About that favor I might be needing,” he said.
“Agent Chinkle will be available for that,” Jeff Stuller said, and his words were meant for both of them.
“Then I’d like to get the hell out of here,” Justin told him.
“One more thing,” Stuller said. “There is going to be an unprecedented uproar when this becomes public. There are going to be resignations and prison terms. The future course of the country will in all likelihood be altered.”
“Is this a question or a statement?”
“It’s a question. I’d like to know what your involvement will be. Will you be talking to the media? You could be lionized as quite the hero. And you can reveal things I’m not positive yet that I wish to reveal. I’m also sure you will be able to capitalize on this financially if you want.”
“Do you have a preference?” Justin asked.
“I’m sure you’re aware of my preference,” Stuller responded. “But I have no right to impose that upon you.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Justin said. “My preference is to keep as quiet as possible. I’d like no one to ever even know I was involved.”
Stuller nodded, relieved.
“Unless,” Justin said, and Stuller immediately stiffened. “Unless you screw up. Unless I think these scumbags aren’t getting what they deserve to get.”
“And then you talk?”
“And once I start it’s really hard to shut me up.”
Jeff Stuller stuck his hand out awkwardly. Justin Westwood shook it.
And then he asked if Wanda would call for the nurse. The friendly redhead, not the scary brunette. He said he wanted a little more morphine. That as long as he was going to spend the rest of the day there, he might as well enjoy it.
Justin was released the next day and spent the two days after that sleeping. The pain wasn’t bad, he was just exhausted. Drained. He barely ate, and he moved as infrequently as possible. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t crave alcohol. His system wanted to be left alone. By everything. And everyone.
He spoke to Reggie on the phone several times but he needed to be apart from her, too, just now. She
