Chapter 43: The Hit and Intelligence Gathering

I quickly moved the pair into the front entranceway after I got my answer, and had them sit on the floor against the wall. I explained to the would-be contract killers that the dogs would go straight for their throats if they so much as twitched. I gave Beast the hand signal to guard, and he made it clear to our prisoners that he was just a lunge away by letting out a deep, rumbling growl. I told Andi that she should go back to bed as the dogs would guard them and there was no need for both of us to miss sleep.

I went into the study, called the ‘Twin Mountains’ at the retreat, and informed them that I had two deliveries for them. They said that they would arrive in approximately ninety minutes and asked if they should bring the van. I assured them that it would probably be best.

I examined the two weapons that I had taken from the intruders while waiting for the security team to arrive. The first handgun was a Browning Hi-Power. What a well-designed weapon, I thought. I had heard that it was an improvement on an earlier Browning design, the dependable service sidearm known as the 1911. Both firearms were legendary for their build quality and reliability. In fact, both were still in use by various nations’ military and police forces. I was definitely keeping this one.

The second pistol was a Ruger .22 target model, modified with a threaded barrel to accept a suppressor. It looked homemade. I planned to test it out at some point to see how well it performed. Who knew, I might even add it to my growing collection. A quick trip to the Potomac River, and it would end up on the bottom if it turned out to be worthless.

The two would-be hitmen sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall, afraid to move. Beast growled when one of them shifted his head, and all movement stopped. It was nearing 2 AM when a soft knock came at the front door. I looked through the peephole and saw the massive figure of a man standing outside. The cavalry had arrived.

I opened the door to let my two trusted comrades in and pointed to the two blindfolded men sitting on the floor. The one closest to me nodded and frowned, then glanced at his partner and motioned toward the men guarded by Beast. The other ‘Mountain’ followed his gaze, then looked back at us and rolled his eyes. There had to be a story behind that eye roll and head nod.

I motioned for both men to follow me into the study and closed the door behind us.

“Want to tell me what all the eye-rolling and head gestures were about?” I asked. “Do you know those two?”

The larger of the two ‘Mountains’ answered in a low voice, “Yeah, we know them. Both are military deserters who thought that they could make more money freelancing as bodyguards and contract killers. The one your dogs chewed up is from Canada. The other embarrassment is homegrown.”

“Are they still a threat to me and my family, even after I stopped them?” I asked.

“Even more so,” one of the ‘Mountains’ replied. “They don’t get paid until the job’s completed.”

There was only one logical conclusion; they needed to disappear.

“Can you guys handle the problem, or do I need to take care of it myself?” I asked.

They both grimly nodded and moved to open the door.

“I don’t want to know about it,” I said. “I’ve done similar things in the past, and I still see their faces.”

I was referring to Ginny B, the Russian soldiers from the mission, and the General with his two henchmen.

Both of the ‘Mountains’ grasped my shoulder as they left the study, giving me a knowing smile. I knew that it was something we all shared; they each had their own faces to deal with.

The ‘Twin Mountains’ forced the two men to their feet, frog-marched them to the van, and tossed them in the back. After shutting the door on their prisoners, they climbed in and drove off. I made sure to lock the doors and then climbed the stairs toward my bed.

Karen and Grandma Jorgenson wanted to know who had caused the disturbance the previous night and what had happened to them the next morning. I told them that Beast had heard them and went after them. I then explained to Karen and Grandma Jorgenson that we had caught them in the act and captured them. I had called the authorities and they took the men away. “We don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Andi looked over at me with an arched eyebrow at my last statement as she knew what I meant.

I called the local police department after breakfast to report an abandoned vehicle on the street in front of our home. The person I spoke with assured me that it would be taken care of as soon as possible and thanked me for bringing the vehicle to their attention.

I went to the local library to do some research that morning. I wanted to learn everything I could about the Madison family, especially the patriarch of the influential clan. I discovered from past articles in local newspapers and business magazines, that the family fortune was built on real estate holdings and venture capital speculation. The elder Madison had a reputation for being something of a fortuneteller when it came to picking successful investments.

It was all interesting, but none of it was particularly useful until I came across a local society magazine buried among stacks of journals and specialty publications. The magazine had featured an interview with the old man, conducted aboard his boat. He apparently had a passion for sailing his daysailer from a marina just north of Alexandria.

The article even mentioned the name of the boat. Mr. Madison sailed every Saturday morning, rain or shine, during the summer months according to the piece. His usual route took him out on the Potomac River, up to Roosevelt Island and back, his way of starting the day.

I rode my motorcycle out to the marina to have a look around that afternoon. The marina was part of a large greenbelt natural park with plenty of tree coverage. The foliage extended almost to the water’s edge, providing ample cover, something worth noting. I returned to my motorcycle after taking in the layout, and rode around to the other side of the marina, where the sailboats were docked in their slips.

I parked near the boats and followed a walking trail that ran past the docks and ended at a well-maintained grassy point with several benches and picnic tables. A small concession stand was open for business, selling sodas and snacks. I bought a soda and an ice cream bar, then found a bench on the marina side of the point. Sitting there, I looked out over the Potomac River and the marina, paying particular attention to the covered area opposite the marina’s entrance. What I saw could prove useful.

After finishing my drink and ice cream, I tossed the trash into a nearby bin and walked along the marina, casually admiring the small daysailers docked there. I was looking for one boat in particular. I made a mental note of its design and details when I found it identified by its name. I wanted to be sure that I’d recognize it again.

It eventually was time to head home and do some more research. I stayed busy in the basement that evening, setting up a backstop and measuring out a distance of thirty feet. I grabbed a couple of paper plates from the pantry, and took them downstairs, where I mounted one on the backstop. I walked back to the spot I’d marked and picked up the suppressed .22 target pistol that I had taken from the would-be contract killer.

I raised the pistol, took aim, and fired. The round hit the plate with no trouble. The sound was barely louder than a balloon popping, quiet enough for my purposes. This would work for what I had planned.

I got up extra early the following Saturday morning, and told everyone that I was going for a motorcycle ride along the Potomac River, away from Washington’s heavy traffic. I said that I’d be home around noon so that we could spend the rest of the day together. I rolled my bike out of the carriage house and tightly secured the duffel bag to the seat.

I started the bike up and headed east to begin my ride along the Potomac Greenway. I parked in the trailhead lot near the marina and the green space that I had scouted earlier in the week about fifteen minutes later. Unstrapping and grabbing the duffel bag, I briskly walked to the location that I had previously selected.

Once there, I sat down, got comfortable, and opened the duffel. Inside was a pair of binoculars and the suppressed .22 pistol. I raised the binoculars and trained them on the marina and the sailing clubhouse located next to the slips. Mr. Madison was there, seated and chatting with several other men.

I glanced at my watch just as Madison checked his own. He stood a moment later, smiled, and said something to the others at the table and pushed off with his foot, then made his way to the stern and pull-started the small outboard motor which he used to navigate out of the marina and into the main channel before hoisting his sails.

The motor caught on the third pull, and he used it to slowly back out of the slip and into the center of the marina. He then sat down in the stern and used the engine to slowly power his way out of the marina and into the main channel of the Potomac River. I put the binoculars down, picked up the suppressed .22 pistol, and waited. Using the sights on the pistol, I tracked him until he was directly in front of me. He was farther away than the estimated distance that I had practiced at in the basement. I slightly elevated the pistol, held my breath, slowly let some of it out, and gently squeezed the trigger twice.

Pop! Pop! The pistol sounded twice. It was hardly noticeable with all the background noise. I looked out at Madison and noticed that he was now slumped over in his boat, perfectly heading for the center of the Potomac River with no obstacle in his way until he reached the bridges just before Roosevelt Island upriver.

I quickly gathered the binoculars and found both shell casings, putting them into the duffel bag along with the pistol. I zipped it up and slowly walked back to the bike as if I was finishing a quiet Saturday morning stroll. I placed the duffel on the back of my seat, making doubly sure to secure it. I put my helmet on, started the bike, waited until it was warmed up, and slowly made my way out of the park.

I nervously got on to the George Washington Parkway and headed south. I knew of several places where the parkway came very close to the river. I stopped at the first one, but the parking lot was packed. I continued down the parkway, checking the picnic areas along the way. I was nearly to Mount Vernon when I spotted a sign for a Potomac River overlook and pulled into the parking lot. There wasn’t another car in sight.

I looked at my watch and noted that it had just turned 8:30 AM. I decided that this would be the spot to dump everything before it got busy. I jumped off the bike, grabbed the duffel bag, and hurried toward the water. The Mount Vernon Trail here ran close to the river, no more than thirty feet separated it from the Potomac. I double-timed it to a spot where some trees screened me from the parkway, stooped down, opened the duffel, and pulled the pistol out. I stripped the magazine and tossed it into the river as far as I could. Next came the pistol itself, and I also gave it a good heave, getting rewarded by a satisfying splash.

I had just thrown the pistol and was closing the duffel when a scenic river tour boat came around the point, ferrying tourists to Mount Vernon. Talk about cutting it close. I didn’t look directly at the boat and acted as if I were busy with something on the ground. I waited a good ten seconds to let some distance grow between us. Then I walked calmly back to the bike and headed north toward Alexandria.

I drove around, once in town, to make sure that I was seen. I even stopped by the Breakfast Nook, though the group of friends I used to meet there had disbanded months ago. They’d all lost interest in getting up that early all the time.

It was close to noon when I pulled the motorcycle into the carriage house and returned the helmet to its proper place on the shelf above the workbench. I planned to take another ride tomorrow, heading north into Maryland this time, maybe even as far as southern Pennsylvania. I missed the rides that I used to take around Minot. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much had changed.

We took the twins to the toddler playground that had recently opened in the strip mall near our house. It was fun to watch them solve the little puzzles and navigate the soft, spongy play surface. We received plenty of compliments on how cute the girls were. I also noticed more than a few men casting envious glances at Karen and Andi. A wife elbowed her husband as he gaped at the women with me once again. I’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened when Karen and I were out. I just smiled when the other men looked at me, clearly wondering what had attracted these beautiful women to me.

We went home to pick up Grandma after our time at the toddler park, and we went out to eat as a family. An immigrant Greek family had recently opened a new restaurant that we’d all been wanting to try. Their dishes were mostly traditional Greek fare, a pleasant change from the typical Southern meal of chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans swimming in bacon grease and butter, and a slab of cornbread.

The restaurant owners had mounted a television high on the wall so that everyone in the dining area could see it. We had just sat down when a news bulletin interrupted the regular programming; ‘Robert Jackson Lee Madison, local financier and philanthropist, found dead in his sailboat from multiple gunshot wounds.’

Everyone at our table, except one, looked shocked by the news. Andi turned to me with an accusatory look on her face. I made sure to keep my expression as neutral as possible.

We returned home after an enjoyable meal, for a quiet evening watching a movie on a premium channel. Karen and Grandma headed off to bed when it ended. I told Karen that I’d be up just as soon as I brought the dogs in and secured the house.

I headed to the kitchen to let the dogs in after checking that the front door was locked. I had only made it as far as the study when Andi grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. She didn’t waste any time. She let me have it with her hands firmly planted on her hips, and her head tilted forward.

“It was you, I just know that it was,” Andi said, heat rising in her voice. “You ended the threat from Madison. You did it in your typical cool, logical way.”

Andi looked like she was imitating a chicken when she launched into her tirade, arms out like wings, head bobbing as if she was strutting around a barnyard. I couldn’t help but crack a smile, and that only infuriated her even more.

“That man threatened my family in retaliation for us helping to put Senator Stuart behind bars, Andi,” I said. “He hired a team of bumbling contract killers to take us all out a week ago. There’s no telling what those two would have done to you and Karen. I couldn’t risk him sending a better team to finish the job. You know that I love you like a sister, and I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone harming the women in my life.”

I heard a gasp and turned to see Karen staring at me in horror. She must have heard everything because she came running in and wrapped me in a tight hug. Two weeping women were soon holding me close. This was turning into a strange night, one of many that we’d been having lately. It took a while, but we all finally made it to bed. Karen was still wrapped tightly around me, in the same position as the night before, when I woke the next morning.

Sunday was a preparation day. A preliminary step for going back to the office and seeing what we needed to do to get back up and running. I called everyone I could to see who was back. The only ones I couldn’t reach were the Frischs.

I was the last one to arrive Monday morning, and I was early at 7:30 AM. I was surprised to see that everyone was already there. The FBI focused on the desktop computers when they conducted their search. Finding nothing, they took them to their lab for forensic evaluation. Recovery was difficult since there was nothing stored on the hard drives. We were eventually given the results of their unsuccessful search, along with an apology from the Bureau.

I was grateful to the United States Air Force for sharing that technological hack, it had served us well. It wouldn’t take Randy long to restore our systems. We held a late-morning team meeting to assess where we stood, both in terms of the office and our clients. We hadn’t communicated with our clients in over a month, and I was sure that many had abandoned us. It would be my responsibility to contact each one and perform damage control to retain them.

Another concern raised during the meeting was the company’s financial standing after being down for so long. That question was directed at me, but I passed it to Molly, who hopefully had the answer. According to her, the only outstanding expense was the office rent, which wasn’t due until the end of next week. The forced shutdown had done little harm to the company’s bottom line.

Molly asked Andi if she had heard about the shooting of the patriarch of the Madison family as we were filing out of the conference room. Andi replied that she had, and wasn’t it just terrible?

Keeping the secret had placed a burden on all the women in our family, and I knew that I needed to show them how much I appreciated them. I figured that after lunch would be a good time to do that, as I had to start calling our clients to assure them that we were still in business.

I was pleasantly surprised by how understanding our clients were. Our Japanese clients and the majority of the defense contractors had no issues with the recent forced shutdown. Only one client complained, and the revenue from that account was negligible. I didn’t feel too bad when they decided to open their future business to a bidding process. I thanked them for their past business and wished them continued success, hoping their future ventures would be as profitable as those in the past.

Andi had gone out to lunch with Molly and Jean just as I was finishing up my last client call.

I went over to Molly’s desk, looked for the local phone book, and searched the Yellow Pages for floral shops and local delivery services. I scanned the ads and recognized the name of a local shop whose delivery truck I had seen around town before. That would be the one I’d start with, and I’d work my way down the list if they couldn’t deliver until I found one that could.

The first shop I called fortunately was able to handle my request and got my business. I ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to Karen, Grandma, and Andi. After providing the addresses and the messages I wanted on the cards, I gave them my credit card information to pay for the arrangements.

Andi’s floral arrangement arrived just before 2:30 PM. Molly brought the box back to Andi’s desk and lingered nearby, clearly curious to see who had sent the roses. True to form, Molly hoped to uncover the mystery.

Andi gasped when she opened the box and saw the dozen red roses. She immediately searched for the card and, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes upon reading it. Molly kept asking who had sent the flowers, but Andi didn’t respond, she just kept looking between the card and the roses.

Molly eventually gave up and returned to her desk. Andi looked over at me with a curious, almost unreadable expression. She didn’t say anything, and I quietly returned to my work, focused on planning our company’s direction for the next couple of weeks.

Everyone began shutting down their computers by 5 PM, and Randy went around collecting the Bernoulli Box cartridges, placing them securely in the locked cabinet. It had been a long, draining day, and I was relieved that it was finally over. I could hardly wait to get home, see my loved ones, and tell them how much they meant to me.

Andi silently sat on the ride home, clutching her box of roses, while Robert navigated the slow crawl of Washington, DC’s evening traffic. He dropped us off at the front door when we arrived, and said that he’d see us in the morning.

I noticed Andi juggling her purse, messenger bag, and the box of roses, her hands completely full, as I reached for my key to unlock the door.

I didn’t even need to use my key as the door flew open, and I was greeted by two happy, bubbly women who swept me into a group hug. Karen noticed the box of flowers in Andi’s arms and quickly opened the hug to include her. They were all laughing and kissing me on the cheek. I thought to myself ‘I could get used to this, though it might get expensive if I keep sending roses’.

This tangled collection of arms, legs, heads, and laughter somehow made its way inside, and we managed to shut the front door behind us. Just inside, I dropped my briefcase on the front hall table and temporarily hung my suit jacket on the hall tree.

Karen and Andi pulled me into the living room, one on each side, and gently pushed me down onto the couch. They nestled in close, each cuddled tightly against me. Grandma returned to the kitchen to check on supper. She came back into the living room carrying one of the rose arrangements in a vase, and set it on the table behind the couch. I then watched as she took another bundle, also in a vase, and placed it on the front hall table. I found the last bouquet beautifully arranged as the centerpiece on the kitchen table when we were called to dinner.

It didn’t take long for the house to fill with the scent of roses. The fragrance was so heavy and lingering that it reminded me more of a funeral home. We all gathered in the living room after supper to watch TV and play with the twins, who kept pulling themselves up and demanding to be held by anyone with free hands. Beast and the Dobermans made sure that I didn’t forget about them, of course, insisting on their share of attention as well. It made for a very merry Mercer evening.

I received a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek from my grandma-in-law, followed by a very affectionate Andi just before bedtime later that night. Karen did her best to remind me why she was the Viking Princess in bed that night.

I arrived at work feeling a little worse for wear the next morning. Karen had done her best to make herself a widow during the night. I slowly made my way to my desk, hoping that I didn’t have any appointments scheduled. All I wanted was to find a bed to lie down on and sleep.

Andi glanced over at me and just laughed. I flipped her the bird in a rare moment of being both perturbed and disrespectful. She wasn’t offended, she just looked at me and chuckled.

I laid my head down on my desk and moaned. “Molly,” I called, “Could you bring me some painkillers if we have any, because I really need them.”

The phone rang before she could bring me anything. Molly called out, “It’s the White House on the line for you, James.”

I groaned and reached for the phone, slowly picking it up. I answered with a feeble, “Hello.”

It was the President’s Chief of Staff on the line, requesting that I join him and the President for a lunchtime meeting. They had a problem that they believed I could help solve. Knowing how I felt, I decided that I needed an extra set of ears and asked if I could bring an analyst with me. The Chief of Staff had no problem with that and said that a car would be waiting out front to take us to the meeting in an hour and a half. I gratefully placed the receiver back on the cradle after he ended the call.