2 A Month of Mondays (9 page)

“The order came from Lars. Deputy Director Smith agreed to
write up the documents. It was why she was killed. Lars and Violet ran after
the debacle in Atlanta.”

“So. Where can I find Lars?”

“At Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado.”

“Colorado Springs?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Stop the car.”

Jake flew from JFK aboard United Airlines Flight 5712 within
two hours. He did not believe in coincidences. Only design.

Rock and a Hard Place

Hallie met him at the Denver airport. Her face was grim with
worry.

“Hi, hon,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “I’m alive.”

She shook her head and handed him a DOD identification tag.

“Not if you keep this up.”

It was after dinner in his time zone and he heard his
stomach rumble. They strolled together out into the well-lit concourse. It
looked and felt more like a mall than a modern airport. The smells of food
wafted throughout the airport, making him even hungrier.

“So, what’s the scoop?” Jake asked.

 “Gary’s intelligence is a week old. Lars checked in at a 21
^st
Medical Division unit with Violet in tow at Peterson last week. Evidently, she
needed some more work on her leg.” Hallie smirked. “Lars must know a physical
therapy doctor there.”

“Actually, I think Violet does. I think her father is an Air
Force E-8 or something. I heard her talk one time about her father being a
career officer and a doctor.”

“Nice to know you two were close,” Hallie teased.

“It wasn’t like that,” Jake said, defensive.

Hallie took his hand and looked up at him, her eyes bright
and her smile wide.

“I’m teasing you, ya big dope.” 

They took Hallie’s Suburban and soon were travelling down
Interstate 25 to Colorado Springs. It was a short drive, but in the hour and
half they were able to discuss their options.

“Macy can only stay with Sarah for so long, Jake. She still
wakes up with nightmares.”

Jake frowned and nodded.

“The shooting?  Her momma, the killer?”  He drove, avoiding
her eyes. He could tease as well.

“Stop it. You know I feel bad about that. I had never fired
my weapon before.”

He shrugged.

“Now you have done it on two occasions.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I know,” he explained. “It was sexy.”

“Stop it, Jake. This is serious. We have to talk about what
we are going to do.”

“How about we stop shooting people in front of thousands of
folks?  Or, at least not in front of our daughter.”

She punched him. The vehicle swerved a little. He laughed
out loud.

“Why don’t I just beat you up in public?  Maybe someone will
even pay us to see that one,” she joked.

“We should call the people at UFC. Maybe we should also get
a manager to set up all the contracts.”

“I’d beat your butt.”

“I’d let you,” he said. He turned and winked at her.

“You are getting too big for your own pants, mister,” she said
with a smile.

They drove along in silence for a while, the smells of the
Quizno’s sandwiches they had picked up in the airport still wafting up from the
back seat.

“I have to admit that I am a little nervous about Lars,”
Jake admitted.

“Lars? Because of his connections?”

“No,” he said. He hesitated. He squeezed the steering wheel.
“It is just that when I got my memory back, I realized that I was being
manipulated by Lars. He and Violet were drugging me.”

“I will kill that witch,” Hallie said through clenched
teeth.

Jake smiled despite himself.

“I don’t know who they really work for. Not Sinegem. Not
Galbraith. I would guess the Russians, but I don’t know how that could be
possible.”

“Peterson Air Force Base to Denver?  Maybe they work for the
FBI. Does the CIA have a base here we don’t know about under some other service
designation?”

“The answer to that is below my pay grade,” Jake quipped.

“Maybe Kyle would know,” Hallie offered.

“We can’t trust Kyle.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knew about the attempt on Senator Swane’s life before it
was executed. The business about protecting Todd was a front. The man who had
the gun in right field?”

“Yeah?”

“I knew him.”

“An assassin?”

“No. He was a bartender from Baltimore. I knew him from my
childhood. If I had still been drugged, I would not have recognized him.”

“He was so far away, how could you be sure?”

“I’m an assassin, remember?”

“So why him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“You don’t believe in consequences.”

He smirked.

“You’re right.”

∞

Jake and Hallie interviewed Chief Master Sergeant Mark
Draper. He knew Lars. He was helpful, but guarded. Draper was reluctant to say
where in Denver Lars was staying, but had revealed enough to confirm their
suspicions. Evidently, Draper and Lars had been close when they were younger.

The real breakthrough had been when they had visited Dr.
Mirudsen. They had mentioned Violet and he had invited them in for coffee. He
was extremely helpful. He said Violet had come to him at the 21
^st
Medical Group clinic and asked for a new treatment for head injuries. He had
noted that she was limping and had given her a prescription for the pain and
some Neurontin for recovery of nerve damage.

When they asked how she had received the wounds, he
explained that his daughter had claimed to be hunting for mule deer in the
mountains and had fallen. When they reminded him that it was summer, he
furrowed his brow and seemed confused. Hunting season was several months away.

Now they were heading back to Denver with the sun setting to
their left over the mountains. Hallie was quiet.

“I know what you want to do. I don’t like it but I won’t
stop you,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her, the waning sun glowing orange in her hair.

“I said before that we should stop shooting people. I meant
it.”

Hallie swallowed.

“Just promise me you won’t allow someone to shoot you,” her
voice choking.

“Hallie, we have been committed to throwing our lives away
for the leaders of our country and for each other. For the past two years I
have been taking lives. Sometimes life takes its opportunities to balance
things out. This side of the ledger needs some life-saving, I think.”

“It doesn’t have to be you,” Hallie offered.

“If not me, then who?”

She didn’t answer.

They drove in silence, a misty rain falling on the
windshield and hood of their rental as they neared south Denver. Hallie handed
him a burner phone.

“I don’t want you without communication,” she explained. “Do
you want to see Macy before you leave?”

“Sure,” he said. He was not in the mood to argue. He missed
her.

Jake looked over at Hallie. A wet line of tears fell down
her cheeks. He leaned over and brushed them away. She looked at him with pained
eyes.

“I want you to promise me.”

“I promise.”

Four hours later, Jake pulled into the parking lot of a
large office complex near a small metro airport. The buildings here were
certainly government. They all were similarly styled. The only thing absent
were the security gates and check points. Most of these buildings served
low-key government business. The conspiracy theorists had been trumpeting the
CIA’s move from Langley to beside the Denver airport for months. It seemed the
agency had offices nearby already, but not for the same reasons that the conspiracists
believed.

Kyle was reluctant, but had provided a cell phone
triangulation for Violet. According to Evers, the NSA had no information that
either Lars or Violet worked for any government agency. Yet, here they were. The
buildings had no signs. Just addresses. He was positive they were here.

Jake sat in the rental car listening to it click and the
private jets taking off and landing south of him. Only one light was on in the
building. He looked around at the other buildings. Except for outside lights at
doorways and parking lots, they were all dark. He waited for ten minutes,
watching for security personnel. No one showed up. He got out of the car and
walked across the parking lot. He was fully aware that he was completely
unarmed.

As he walked, he considered his plan again. The connection
that Jake and Hallie had deciphered between Lars and Chief Master Sergeant
Draper was Langley. Draper had spent his time at Langley AFB attaining his NCO
Leadership Training in 1988. It figured that Lars was CIA trained less than
three hours away in Langley (now McLean), Virginia. Another possible link was
NASA, but Hallie had insisted that Jake was working overtime on his conspiracy
theories as it was.

The connection was important because it explained nothing. Jake
did not consider himself a detective in the true sense of the word. However,
Draper seemed to have no agenda and had no idea who Jake was. Lars did not
expect to be followed, because he had not even tried to cover up his movements.

The mist of rain fell, dampening his shirt. In his hurry to
get here he had not packed a jacket. He had not packed anything. He felt naked.
Exposed. Determined. Pissed.

A dim light shone in the lobby. He was sure the door would
be locked and cameras would give away his presence. Alarms would sound. Security
would come. He was not prepared to take a life today. Not prepared and not
willing. He had other plans. Pain, mostly.

Jake crouched down in the wet mulch under the American flag.
The lights around the pole pointed up, illuminating Ole’ Glory. He put a knee
to the wet ground and bowed his head, allowing the water to drip down his hair.
His shirt soaked through and the drizzle made a light hissing sound and the
flag snapped in the breeze.

He sat like that for twenty minutes, breathing slowly and
steadily in the shadows near the flag he had sworn to protect. He allowed
himself to transition his anger and his fear into action.

He heard them coming before he saw them. They were locking
up the building from a side door east of the main lobby, closer to him. Their
SUV was parked near the front of the building, just a dozen yards from his
hiding spot behind the flag. The lights would continue to hide him until they
turned on the SUV’s headlights.

He waited.

As Lars helped Violet into the front passenger seat, giving
a chivalrous assistance to his injured partner, Jake scampered across the
sidewalk and slammed the door on Violet’s good foot. She screamed and Lars
turned to face him.

“Jake! What--”

Jake brought his palm up under his nose, smashing his face
back and then followed with a Bando-type fist to his sternum. Jake concentrated
on using his abdomen, hips, and legs to put as much power in that punch as
possible.

Lars fell heavily to the pavement, his head leaving a red
trail in the shallow puddles of water. Jake could hear his teeth snap together.

The door of the black SUV slammed open, catching Jake’s
right calf and ripping his pants leg. He kicked forward, pivoted and then
leaned over and brought the heel of his foot back forcefully, connecting with
Violet’s abdomen. He heard her expel air and grunt.

Jake returned his knee back to his stomach and kicked
directly out to the side, smashing Violet against the door frame. Her head
snapped backwards as her back hit the seat and she fell backwards into the
vehicle.

His calf muscle was screaming. He was sure he had torn
something there, but his adrenaline was pumping. He put his foot down gingerly
and followed her into the vehicle.

“Stay here!  I have no problem with you,” Jake growled.

She nodded, her head bobbing weakly.

Jake shut the door and walked over to Lars. He still lay on
the pavement, groaning. The head wound was superficial, but Jake suspected he
had fractured his skull and Lars would have a headache and be puking for days.

Welcome to the NFL, Lars
, Jake thought.

Despite knowing that Lars probably was suffering from a
concussion, Jake grabbed his jacket and lifted him from the ground. Lars was
heavy, old muscle and layers of middle-aged fat accumulation. Jake brought his
face right up to his nose.

“Leave my family ALONE!”

Lars groaned. Jake could hear Violet moving in the vehicle
behind him. He only had moments before she pulled her pistol on him. He did not
trust her.

“Who do you work for and why did you brainwash me?” Jake
yelled.

His eyes rolled back in his head and a trickle of blood
escaped from the side of his mouth.

“
Azadja
,” he whispered.

“A dragon?  Why am I the dragon?  What does that have to do
with anything?”

His eyes focused for a second on Jake. A moment of lucidity
flashed there as his pupils began to dilate.

“You are a toy to be tossed away. A dragon to be raised only
to be pierced and sacrificed,” Lars explained with a look of disdain, pity, and
awe upon his face. He looked tortured.

“Why?”

“Perfect test subject. No one else survives. The director
killed herself,” he croaked.

Lars began to cry, huge sobs wracking his body. He
blubbered, bloody snot running down his unshaven cheeks, rivulets of rain
mixing with his tears.

Jake looked up into the florescent lights of parking lot and
shook his head. He sighed and gently lowered Lars to the ground. He turned away.
When he glanced back, Lars had rolled onto his side in a fetal position.

Jake turned and met Violet’s stare. Her eyes were wide and
she seemed to be breathing irregularly.

“Will you be alright?” Jake asked loudly.

She nodded.

“You broke a rib,” was her muffled reply.

“Sorry about that. Will the Farm pay for that?”

Violet looked at him curiously, her brow furrowed in
irritation and pain.

“You mean Langley?”

“I see,” Jake said. So he was right. It was not as satisfying
as he hoped it would be.

Jake derived no pleasure from beating Lars and Violet. He
was disappointed, in fact. No cathartic experience from revenge and no real
answers. The only answer he had been given was that he was a target. No news
there.