The Third Coincidence (28 page)

Read The Third Coincidence Online

Authors: David Bishop

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General

“Did they find anything that might give him a reason to go back?” Jack asked.

“The storage unit has served his purpose.” Rex shrugged. “It’s empty.”

“What about when he rented the space?” Rachel asked.

“The manager remembered that Marks had his hands bandaged, but the manager’s general description of the guy matched what we have. The manager completed the forms for Marks and, because of the bandages, they didn’t ask him to try to sign.”

Rex opened his notepad and thumbed over a couple of pages. “The manager said that he watched Marks struggle to move a

rolled-up blanket from his car’s trunk to inside the storage unit. He came across as too proud to accept help. He left saying he would be back with more in a few weeks when his hands had healed.”

“How did he pay?” Jack asked.

“Cash. He couldn’t write a check or sign a credit card voucher. The manager remembered nothing more, other than he wore a red cap.”

“The bastard certainly pays attention to the details,” Jack said. Colin ran his hand through his black, wavy hair. “I finally reached

General Crook. Portable night-vision equipment, both image en- hancement and thermal, is very popular. You can buy it in some re- tail outlets, most war surplus stores, and over the Internet. So,

212 David M. Bishop

following that lead would be a long chase. What’s the latest on the lists?”

Rachel shrugged. “They’re supposed to be ready in a few hours, and once they get here we won’t have much time for anything else so let’s get some lunch now.”

“That sounds better than this cold croissant,” Colin said, tossing it into the wastebasket, “cafeteria or off campus?”

Millet said, “How ’bout Friendly’s off Old Dominion?”

“Let’s eat in the cafeteria,” Rachel said, “just in case the lists come early. I’ll leave a note for Nora. She should be back any minute.”

Who will be the next target?
Jack wondered.
And how much time do we have?

CHAPTER 43

Within D.C. legal circles, Chief Justice Evans is known as “Walking Justice,” for his habit of going for walks during private deliberations.

—Parade Sunday Supplement Magazine, June 20

Samuel Blackmer, the flamboyant freelance writer and longtime watcher of the U.S. Senate, loved to poke fun at the establishment. For his appearance on Carsten’s
D.C. Talk,
he had dressed splen- diferously in a black long-sleeved shirt and yellow suspenders, ac- cessorized with a black and yellow polka-dotted bow tie that on television appeared as wide as his handlebar mustache.

“The Fed board is down to four governors,” the show’s host, Mel Carsten, began as the camera zoomed in on his somber face. “The board does not have a critical meeting scheduled until their open- market committee meets on June twenty-seventh. As for the Supreme Court, they have not issued a ruling or heard oral arguments since James Dunlin’s resignation dropped the Court to five justices.”

“What’s the latest on this continuing story?” Carsten asked Black- mer.

“Both the Judiciary Committee and the Banking Committee have nominees, but the nominees are moving with all the haste of the race between a tortoise and a snail.” Blackmer punctuated his sim- ile by stretching out his suspenders, then leaving them to snap back against his global figure.

“Why is that?” Carsten asked. “We have the president, the chairs

214 David M. Bishop

of both committees, and the congressional leadership all on record favoring expedited confirmations.”

Blackmer twisted his mustache. “Some nominees are delaying their response when asked to schedule an appearance.”

Mel Carsten stood erect, his feet at shoulders width. “A recent news poll asked Americans: If you were a nominee for the Supreme Court or the Federal Reserve Board, would you (a) promptly con- tinue the process; (b) withdraw your name from consideration; or

(c) drag out the process hoping LW is caught before you’re called to appear at a confirmation hearing? Less than one-third of those polled said, they would move forward promptly. It would appear the re- sponses of the nominees are right in line with public opinion.”

Blackmer’s eyes twinkled as the camera came closer. “Senator Leland’s Judiciary Committee had better get busy and confirm at least two nominees for the Court,” he said. “Until then, LW has a de facto win. Without the six justices needed for a quorum, the Court is effectively standing down as this madman has demanded.”

Carsten turned toward his second guest, sitting beside Blackmer, a thin man, dressed in a dark suit with a quiet tie. “What can you tell us about these persistent rumors that the president’s advisors are pres- suring him to replace Jack McCall?”

“Where there’s smoke there’s fire,” said Matthew Gillis, a former undersecretary at the State Department. “The president, however, continues to stand steadfast behind McCall. And as long as that’s the case, there will be no change.”

Carsten turned to the camera. “Our next guest on
D.C. Talk
is Catherine Lee. Ms. Lee is a professor of political science and Amer- ican government at Georgetown University.”

He gestured for Ms. Lee to take the seat on his left so the con- servatively dressed woman would not need to compete visually on camera with the colorful Samuel Blackmer.

“Thank you for joining us, Professor. Can you shed some light on LW’s claim that the Supreme Court is exceeding its authority when it rules laws unconstitutional?”

the third coincidence 215

“Yes, I can,” she replied crisply. “LW’s written public statements are based on a twisted and incorrect interpretation of the Constitu- tion of the United States. Congress makes the laws and, assuming the president signs them, the agencies of the executive branch adminis- ter and enforce them. The Supreme Court, with an appropriate case before them, decides if the laws are constitutional, that is, whether a given law is consistent with the enumerated rights of the people and the states. In individual cases, the Court may also interpret the law to resolve specific disputes.”

“Is this the separation of powers we learned about in school?” Carsten asked.

“Yes it is,” Professor Lee replied. “Our founding fathers devel- oped a system of checks and balances so that no single branch could dominate the others. We rely on the Supreme Court to interpret our laws and the Constitution for the good of the entire country. The justices do this by applying precedents from their previous rulings and by looking forward to how our principles should govern us. If the people’s elected representatives do not like the Court’s decisions, they are empowered to legislate a change in the law. And if they do not, the people, holding the ultimate power through voting, can change their elected representatives.”

The camera panned in for a closeup of Carsten. “Catherine Lee, professor of American government at Georgetown University, with a civics lesson for LW and his militia, and for each of us.”

LW sat at home, eating microwave popcorn, watching
D.C. Talk,
and growing more furious by the minute. Once again the program had failed an opportunity to bring the real issues to the forefront. They just kept saying the same things about him, Jack McCall, and the president, while ignoring the growing cancer that was devouring America. And, now this twit, masquerading as an expert, has mis- represented the role of the Supreme Court.

The media is part of the conspiracy to steal our freedoms.

• • •

216 David M. Bishop

After Jack learned that the lists from the shooting ranges and of the dissidents would not be ready until between seven and eight that night, he told everyone to take a few hours downtime.

“We need to stay after this guy,” Colin said in halfhearted protest. Jack threw his hands up in exasperation, “Doing what? I under- stand that we’re all keyed up, but we have nowhere to go. Rachel, leave word with . . . what’s her name? Marsha, Marsha White, to call me when the lists are one hour from being ready.” He turned back to the group. “These lists will include details that apply to LW as a real person, not his aliases. When Marsha calls me, I’ll call you and

we’ll meet back here, now get out of here. Everybody. Scram.”

LW hacked back into Dr. Eberhard’s computer and learned that Evans’s law clerk had confirmed the chief justice’s dental appoint- ment for tomorrow. Next, he went to his chessboard. He didn’t have a lot of time, but then he didn’t need a lot of time.

Three days ago, his opponent had moved his bishop to the out- side column, thus reducing its capacity to move from four directions to only two. He wondered how this lamebrain ever advanced this deep into the tournament? Now he’s moved his second knight deep into my territory. He doesn’t have enough pieces remaining to pro- vide enough help to make this knight a meaningful threat. LW de- cided his opponent was going for a stalemate.

No way, Jos. Two more moves and your ass is mine.

He took his next move and posted it on the Internet. Then he took out his ironing board and pressed his special traveler’s khakis that converted to a pair of shorts with a quick yank along a velcro strip. And pressed his sweatshirt. His mother used to also iron his underpants, but he had broken that habit.

Tomorrow would be special. To represent his own father and America’s founding fathers, he wanted to look neat.

CHAPTER 44

Is there progress on the LW front? Nobody’s saying anything for the record, but the mumbles are loud and clear: no.

—Marian Little, NewsCentral 7

The ringer on Jack’s phone brought him around. Caller ID read Rachel. He spoke before getting the phone up to his ear. “Did Mar- sha call you?” he asked, reaching into his shirt pocket for the pack of cigarettes that wasn’t there. It had been eight years, but still he sometimes instinctively reached for his old habit.

“Marsha didn’t call. I just wanted to talk for a few minutes before we head back. Did I wake you?”

“I slept some. Dreamed some. Thought mostly.” “Tell me about the dream?”

“I’m on my knees looking for something. I don’t know what or where I was looking. It’s all gone fuzzy. You know how dreams fade. Is everything okay?”

“Everything but nailing shut LW’s coffin,” Rachel said. “But I think we’ll be doing that real soon.”

“It can’t be too soon for me.” Jack carried the phone to the kitchen to splash water on his face.

“You have your next assignment lined up?”

The question took him by surprise, Jack had become more than just interested in Rachel, and sensed she had grown to care for him, but to some degree such feelings were expected. People working

218 David M. Bishop

together on dangerous assignments develop a special caring based on the knowledge that, at any moment, one of them could hold in their hands the lives of the others. He had felt this on many assignments, for many comrades, but his feelings for Rachel were more than that. “There’s no next assignment,” he told her. “This one’ll be it for me. I had already decided to resign before, but I couldn’t refuse Sam

Schroeder.”

“I haven’t told anyone else, but I’m hanging it up, too,” Rachel told him. “Listen, I gave you a ration of shit early on, but you’ve been just great. You’re always there with direction and encouragement. Even the way you’ve put up with Millet. He’s eccentric, but he knows you respect him so he gives you all he’s got.”

“Millet is different, but then we all are. He’s just way more dif- ferent, but he brings a lot to the table. Whatever we’ve accomplished would have been impossible without him and you, but the bottom line is we haven’t accomplished much yet—and it’ll stay that way until we stop this guy.”

Jack opened his fridge and took out a beer, then slid it onto the shelf in the door and settled for a bottle of soda. He twisted the cap free and used his foot to swing the door shut.

“We’ll get him, Jack. We’ll get him.”

“Thanks for the encouragement, but if these lists don’t reveal LW’s identity, we’ll be left with chasing down violent ex-agents and military personnel one by one. And once we start that, the scuttle- butt will get to him and he’ll run. Our only other option would be to try and capture him during one of his attempted assassinations.” He eased back the corner of his drawn drapes. At first glance the street looked okay. He widened the opening a little and used his vi- sion as if it were a camera to take a series of pictures spanning the en- tire area. From a different window he repeated the process in the

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