Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
I t was two hours before Delaney called Warrick and Dalton back to the conference room. “I found it,” she said the moment they walked inside.
Warrick and Dalton looked up at the screen where she was projecting her computer. “First, Thurmond gets a crazy amount of fan mail for someone trying to run the world through a shadow government. Second, right here. The visitor’s log.”
“Matthew Johnson,” Warrick said at the name that appeared several times. “Says he’s a paralegal for Thurmond’s attorney.”
“Only, no such person works for Thurmond’s attorney. Also, this Matthew Johnson is clearly an alias and he knows enough to avoid the common area cameras,” Delaney said, positing the pictures.
“This person might be Nicholas Houser,” Dalton said, connecting the dots.
“Exactly, and if it is, it’s the perfect place for Warren Hawkins to appear,” Delaney grinned.
“How so?” Warrick asked.
“Warren Hawkins is back, looking for answers, so he goes to the one place he thinks he can get them. The man his father used to talk to about work. Sandra’s dead, can’t go to her. So, you go to Thurmond.” Delaney smiled and glanced at Dalton. “Then to really drive the matter home, take Dalton with you, if you need to play that card.”
Dalton smirked. “It’ll be fun to see that little weasel again.”
“Only if Warrick needs you, Dalton. Meanwhile, I’ll track every communication he makes so we can hopefully track down Nicholas Houser before he finds you. If not, this should lead him to us.”
Dalton pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Crew, I’m in Keeneston. I need a flight for two people to the supermax in North Dakota.” Dalton hung up and turned to Warrick. “Let’s see what you got. We leave in two hours.”
Warrick hurried back to the cottage to find Cassidy talking to Veronica. Crap, he forgot about the proposal tomorrow.
“I hear you’re flying to North Dakota,” Veronica said.
Cassidy also didn’t look surprised. “How could you know that? I was just told about it.”
“I know everything,” Veronica said as if it were obvious.
“I promise to be back tomorrow to help with the engagement,” Warrick said before heading to pack while Veronica and Cassidy finished their talk.
Packing was different in this case. He needed to look easily intimidated.
“How are you playing this?” Cassidy asked from the doorway.
“I thought instead of going in guns drawn, I’d go in as he probably remembered me—a clueless young man just out of college. I want to downplay my revenge and make myself an easy target.”
Cassidy nodded. “I think I can help with that. My mom has an attic full of our old clothes. Let’s get you some baggy jeans and a polo. Something to hide your physique.” Cassidy pulled out her phone and sent a text. “Mom will bring some things by within the hour. Also,” she said before going to one of her bags, “use this.”
“What is it?” Warrick asked. “I can hardly see it.”
“It’s a video recorder. Stick it on Thurmond. It’ll let us see what he’s up to after you leave.”
“That’s a great idea,” Warrick told her, packing the small case the recorder was in. It looked no bigger than a speck of dirt. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Cassidy placed her hand on his chest and shook her head. “No. Come back when you’re done. I can handle things here. You do whatever it is you and Dalton need to do. Don’t come home until the mission is complete. Got it, sweetie pie?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I got it.” Warrick kissed her, pulling her to him. “I will miss you. I’m not used to doing missions without you.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Dalton will slow you down,” she teased. “Come on. I’ll drive you to the airport.”
“Thanks for the lift,” Warrick said, shaking the hand of the Kentucky National Guardsman who was flying them to the military base closest to where Thurmond was incarcerated.
Warrick watched as Dalton stood on the tarmac, waiting for his pilot to arrive. They would be taking a military helicopter from the military base to the prison. Why it needed to be this specific pilot, Warrick didn’t know.
Warrick took his seat on the military plane and waited. He didn’t need to wait long. Dalton came onboard with a man who was tall, lean, and muscular. His short, natural black hair was cut with precision lines. His warm sepia complexion matched the warm smile on his face.
“So, you’re the new guy,” he held out his hand and Warrick shook it.
“I guess I am. Warrick Vidar.”
“Going with the fake name still? Cool. I can work with that. I’m Crew Dixon. I’m the Marine One pilot for the president. When I’m not doing that, I’m the pilot for these guys. I’m the one who will fly the helicopter from the base to the prison. I have this fun little thing I do that can make the helo invisible on all tracking. There’ll be no evidence of our visit.”
“Prison logs?” Warrick asked.
Dalton shook his head. “Nope. Greer is taking care of that. And Alex will be able to watch and record the CCTV. However, for anyone at the prison looking, it’ll be status quo.”
“Impressive.”
Crew took his seat and snorted. “That’s nothing. You should see what they can do as a team. It’s inspiring, really. One little group can impact the world and no one will ever know about it.”
Warrick thought about what Crew said as they flew to North Dakota. That’s what he was doing. A single man making precision strikes to get the information he needed. Imagine what he could do if there were more of him. Cassidy did the same. It sounded as if Dalton, Elizabeth, Val, and Grant also did it.
“Tell me more about this president’s guard,” Warrick said after an hour.
“Right now, there’re eight people, including ourselves. It’s small, but we’re still active. Val and Grant and Lizzy and I all have children, so we’ve slowed down on the number of assignments we take. Dylan and Abby are still pretty active. Then we have two more full-time agents and Greer is training another two. However, until the election, we’re kind of up in the air,” Dalton explained.
“How did you start?” Warrick asked.
“We started when Birch took office and things started to not add up,” Dalton told him. “Elizabeth was the first one in charge. She’d been fired from the FBI and was teaching college when Humphrey recruited her. The president wanted to start something akin to The Pond, an independent espionage group from WWII. There were so many government agencies competing for intelligence, not working together, and trying to use cases for their own benefit that Birch wanted someone to cut through all the BS. Birch had seen the moves Mollia Domini was making, but didn’t know what they meant. So, he turned to people he could trust. He knew Elizabeth’s father and knew she was pissed at the government for firing her without cause. Then, I was brought in as Elizabeth’s secret muscle. Much like what you’ve been doing for Cassidy. Later, we added Valeria, who was pissed at her boss at the DEA and then you know about Grant.”
“You took down Thurmond? What can you tell me about him?” Warrick asked.
“He’s a whiney brat who wanted to cheat his way up the political ladder. He was obsessed with power, but he folded as soon as we took him to a black site. I thought life in prison was more than he deserved. Sure, he helped by testifying against bigger fish but his behind-the-scenes actions helped those big fish do some very horrific things,” Dalton told him.
“Ego?”
“Of course,” Dalton said with a roll of his eyes.
“That’s what I got from when my dad had to work with him. I thought I would go in as a scared, insecure boy looking for information. Play it up as I knew he worked with my father and I’m turning to him for help.”
Dalton nodded. “That could work. Where will you say you have been all these years?”
“I was thinking of blaming the president for that.”
“You could always go the soap opera route,” Crew added. “I’ve seen some of Val’s telenovelas. You can get some good ideas from them.”
“Like what?” Dalton asked, clearly not believing Crew.
“Amnesia from the attack. The U.S. government finds him. He’s unconscious. They take him to a hospital where he wakes up with amnesia, so they stick him in a government facility. Say Sandra Cummings or President Mitchell is the one who put you into the facility as a John Doe and you were finally released or escaped and are now searching for answers since you have no memory.”
Warrick laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Actually,” Dalton said with a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m saying it, but it could explain where you’ve been.”
Warrick didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the two making up the most ridiculous backstory he’d ever heard. “No one would believe that.”
Dalton sent off a text. “It’s such a clichéd plot that he wouldn’t believe it, until you show him your papers.”
“I don’t have papers.”
“You will,” Dalton said with a grin. “Now, if it fails, you say the man who broke you out of the facility is here. Then you bring me in and I’ll scare the shit out of him.”
“Okay. Let’s see how this goes.”
Warrick put on Dylan’s clothes from a decade ago. He shaved any stubble from his face to look as young as possible. Crew handed him a piece of gum after setting the helicopter down a half mile from the prison.
“You ready?” Dalton asked as they jumped out of the helicopter. The prison was in the middle of nowhere. It wouldn’t take long to walk the half mile on the flat road.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Bank your anger, Warrick.” Dalton ordered. “I can see your jaw tightening and you just made a fist. Look, if you want to go plan B and beat the information out of him, I’m here for it. We just need to be on the same page before we walk into the prison.”
Warrick took a breath and relaxed. “No, I’ve got this. I’ll play the telenovela part perfectly.”
He started as soon as he approached the prison. A guard was outside waiting for them. He didn’t ask for names. Instead, he opened the gate, waved them through, and walked them straight up to security. “Thurmond Culpepper’s brothers are here to see him.”
Dalton and Warrick stayed quiet as they were brought through. He knew Alex and probably Cassidy and Greer were watching. The video recordings would be taken over and he and Dalton would be ghosts.
“Here,” Dalton said, shoving a beanie at Warrick. “Put this on and pull it low. Your eyes aren’t hiding your anger completely. Plus, no one looks threatening wearing a beanie with a pot leaf on it.”
Warrick slipped it on as the guard opened the door. Dalton stopped and put his back to the wall right next to the open door. “Leave the door partially open,” Dalton told the guard who had greeted them outside.
Warrick took a deep breath and headed into the room. Thurmond Culpepper looked older than he remembered. There were lines around his eyes and mouth, some gray hairs here and there, and his skin was pale from the lack of sun. However, there was still a cocky look on his face as if he ran this prison and everyone in it. It took a lot of effort for Warrick not to punch him in the face.
“Well, hello. You’re not who I was expecting. And who might you be?” Thurmond asked, his voice still sounded as if he were on the Hill instead of in prison.
“That’s the thing I was hoping you’d be able to help me with, Mr. Culpepper.” Warrick took a seat opposite him and chomped on his gum while nervously playing with his fingers.
“You need me to tell you who you are? Now, this is very interesting for a Thursday night. Why should I know who you are?” Thurmond didn’t seem worried, which only pissed Warrick off. However, it also told him this stupid plan was working.
Warrick let out a long sigh. “I’ve only begun to remember who I am, but I keep replaying this memory where your name is mentioned. I think you worked with my father. I was hoping you could tell me what happened to him and to me.”
Thurmond leaned forward, placing his cuffed hands on the metal table. “And who is your father?”
“Was my father. He died. Or so I’m told. My name is Warren Hawkins.”
Warrick didn’t miss the way Thurmond somehow seemed to lose what little coloring he had left. Now he was slightly gray looking before red flushed his cheeks. “I thought you were dead.”
Warrick nodded. “Apparently everyone did.”
“I think you need to tell me everything, Warren.”
Warrick bounced his leg nervously. “I was told there was an attack on the embassy I was living in. I guess that everyone thought I was dead, but a local found me outside the embassy. It took a couple of days for the swelling to go down and to figure out where I should go. I’m told they called the military and someone named Cummings ordered me to a hospital in Crusina since I didn’t know who I was, and she didn’t think I was an American. I’ve been there ever since. It was a psychiatric hospital.” Warrick hoped he sounded appropriately young and lost.
Thurmond’s eyes were wide in surprise. He was trying to maintain his calm, but Warrick saw his breathing speed up. “How did you come to find me then?”
“I started having flashes of memories about a month ago. They were mostly from my childhood. But then I remembered my father’s name. I had some memory of my father talking to my mother and mentioning your name. With that information, my doctors were able to identify me and then fill me in on what happened. They said Cummings sent me there, thinking I was a local since all reports said I had died. Well, when they found out who I was, they called the president of Crusina who called the president of the United States. I was flown back to D.C. just last week. But I’m not getting any answers. I tried to find this Cummings lady, but was told she died. That’s when I was able to track you down,” Warrick explained.
“Do you remember the attack?” Thurmond asked, fully invested in this farce of a story.
“No. I don’t remember anything but bits and pieces of my childhood. I don’t remember anything leading up to the attack or after. I remember waking up in the mental hospital with no idea who I was or how I got there. So, Mr. Culpepper, I’m coming to you for help. Do you know what happened to my parents and how I ended up almost dead?”
Thurmond was quiet for a moment. “I had the honor of working with your father. He was a good man, Warren. And your mother was the epitome of a diplomatic wife. They were very much in love and such an asset to our organization.”
“You mean the state department?” Warrick asked.
“Yes, the state department. Your father worked with me trying to better Crusina. We heard your family was attacked by rebels who didn’t like the work we were doing to make Crusina more profitable and a bigger player on the international stage. It was awful. Tell me, have you met with the president yet?” Thurmond asked.
“Not yet,” Warrick told him. “I’m meeting him next week though. I’m to be his guest at some summit meeting in Kentucky. I want to get into politics like my father. I thought it would be a good way to honor him. You knew him. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. You know, your father worked closely with me to better the world from behind the scenes. Maybe you can continue that work.”
Warrick smiled. “I would like that, but you’re in here. What did you do, Mr. Culpepper? No one would tell me and online I saw that you had helped put the bad guys away.”
Thurmond nodded. “The government needed a scapegoat. I was that person. Unfortunately, my boss, Sandra Cummings, had done some very bad things. I gave the government evidence of her illegal activities. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to me, she had been making me do things that were illegal. My boss died and left me to pay the price for her crimes. But now there’s a new person at the helm and they’re not so easily swayed by power. They’re forming a group to make a real difference in the world. You should be a part of it. A bright young man like yourself. A real chip off the old block. Your father would be proud.”
Warrick had to fight the impulse to reach across the table and kill Thurmond with his bare hands. Instead, Warrick smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Culpepper. That means a lot. I knew doing what my father did would make me feel closer to him since I have so few memories. I just don’t know how to start.” Warrick shrugged. “But I’ll figure it out. Could you tell me more about my father and your work with him?”
“Sure,” Thurmond told him about his father. Warrick remembered the cases they had worked on together and Thurmond changed the facts to tell him they were friends instead of adversaries. By the time Thurmond was done, it was clear he was trying to make Warrick’s parents part of Mollia Domini. One thing was clear. There was a new group in town and Thurmond was once again part of it.
“Time’s up,” the guard said, knocking on the door.
Warrick stood as the guard unchained Thurmond from the table. Warrick waited until Thurmond walked by. “Thank you, Mr. Culpepper.” Warrick hugged him, quickly placing the small dot recorder on his shirt, close to his neck.
Warrick released him and stood back before the guard could correct him.
“Stay in touch. They can give you my email,” Thurmond called out as he was led away.
Warrick walked out of the room and Dalton grabbed his arm. “Deep breaths. Keep your head down and one foot after another until we’re in the helicopter.”
Warrick was vibrating with anger and it took every bit of control to keep it together until he reached the helicopter. “ Fuck! ” he finally bellowed, releasing the rage he’d managed to keep bottled up.