IMBERADO XV
Chapter 15
At seven-thirty the next morning Travis and Special Agent Nichols were sitting in the secretary’s office of Deputy Director Alan Metcalf of the Central Intelligence Agency, in Quantico, Virginia. FBI Director Wayons and Senator Carmichael had set up the appointment with the Director of the CIA that morning an hour before, the Director had been unamused at the time and nature of the call from them, knowing he was being blindsided. Metcalf’s secretary had been surprised to see them there when she came in, although a security guard was with them. He had explained that security had received a call from the Director to let both men in, escort them to Metcalf’s office and wait there until he or his secretary arrived. Having fulfilled the orders the guard left, leaving her with no more information than he had been told himself.
“Is the Deputy Director expecting you, I don’t have an early appointment scheduled for today?”
“I’m sure he is now, probably from less than an hour ago.” Nichols could hardly suppress a grin at her rather unsettled continence.
“Can I get either of you anything while you wait? I don’t know when the Deputy Director will be in?”
“Nothing thank you, I’d say he will not be long this morning, considering.”
Fifteen minutes later, Alan Metcalf walked through the outer door, glanced at his secretary as he opened his private office door and turned to Nichols and Travis. “Would you like to join me in my office, gentlemen.”
Travis and Nichols rose from their chairs, walked into Metcalf’s office and waited for him to close the door, then walk to his chair at his desk and sat down as he did.
Metcalf looked directly at Special Agent Nichols. “The Director wasn’t very informative about the nature of your visit this morning. He was less than cordial in his requesting that I hear you out. And even more direct in his insistence that I offer you every assistance and cooperation in whatever you needed for some investigation you are involved in presently. His final statement had to do with the fact that if he had to go and stand before another Congressional hearing, I would be suffering a more dire fate.”
“And we deeply appreciate his candor and compliance.” Nichols responded in a slightly matter-of- fact tone, without inflection. “First off, let me offer my condolences on the loss of one of your field agents, John Bigelow.”
“John, is dead? Why is this the first I have heard about it? I’ve known him many years, hoe did this happen?”
“Let us say first off, that Director Wayons and I think it might be best for all concerned, that his death be announced as an unfortunate hunting accident during a recent trip he made to Northern Virginia. The alternate would be much less advantageous to his memory, or the Agency.”
“What exactly do you mean, less advantageous? How did he die exactly?”
“He was shot, after attempting to kill a murder suspect, who at the time was in custody, for three different murders. Two of them in Virginia and another one in Texas.”
“That’s preposterous! John Bigelow was a good agent for this agency for many years, with a stellar record. He has been in law enforcement for decades without a sniff of anything but the highest integrity. Who was this suspect you are saying he tried to kill, and why would John try to kill a suspect of anything?”
“Now, you see, there’s the rub. The man he opened fire on was supposed to be dead, several years ago. A Marine veteran who was reported dead five years ago in the Beirut Massacre, Sargent Antonio Davis.”
“Sargent Davis is alive?”
Travis had just about enough of this cat and mouse game, he didn’t wait for Nichols to respond to what he thought was another stall tactic on Metcalf’s behalf. “He was, until Bigelow laid-in-wait for him in the trees, and shot him with his service firearm from ambush, then tried to escape before getting into another shoot out with the other man who had help apprehend him.” Travis paused just long enough for that to sink in, then continued before Metcalf or Nichols could speak. “And, there is no reason to deny knowing who Davis is either. He was one of your ghosts, one your agency faked the death of in Beirut. Then you put him into black ops, but he went off the reservation and your entire agency couldn’t find him.”
Nichols spoke before Metcalf could inflame the conversation with a denial or insinuations about Travis’s identity. “Mr. Cody had been working with the local law enforcement agency and has been of immense aid to the Bureau in this investigation recently. The evidence he has garnered through his investigation is quite substantial. The Director and Senator Carmichael have become very interested in your agency’s response, and or cooperation along with The Bureau’s going forward.”
“Alright, Mr. Cody. I do not deny knowing who Sargent Davis was, but I cannot corroborate your assumptions of his connection to the Agency or our interest in locating him. Nor do I have any knowledge of his having committed any of the murders you are talking about. Just for the record though, who are you, and how are you connected to any of this, that you have gained such influential supporters?”
Travis eyed Metcalf for long seconds before answering the man’s question, weighing his response carefully in light of what he hoped to gain here today.
But before he could answer, Nichols interjected his own answer. “Travis, if you will allow me to answer that last question first?” After Nichols saw a slight nod of Travis’s head in the affirmative, he continued. “Travis Cody is a Private Investigator, licensed in three states; Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. But over the last forty-eight hours I have learned that he is much more than what many of us in our profession assume that means. He was an Army Ranger, a highly decorated Viet Nam veteran. He was also a decorated member of the Dallas police department, a drug task force undercover officer before he retired ten years ago. He has worked for many foreign dignitaries, heads of state and has an impeccable record. He also has one of the best networks at gathering information, assessing situations and achieving results, which I have ever encountered. Let’s face the fact that he and his people accomplished in scant weeks what your agency couldn’t in months, if not years. He was a personal friend and associate of Congressman James Whiteside. Now you can have your people check all this out if you wish, but know that the Bureau has already vetted him. So I think you should listen to him with the respect he is due, I know I do.”
“None of that, Mr. Metcalf, is half as important as this. I am a private citizen and yes, a PI who became involved in this because Sheriff Dexter asked for my opinion in Congressman Whiteside’s death. It was made to look like a suicide. Unfortunately for Davis, he didn’t do his homework quite well enough that time, together with the Sheriff’s department we proved it was a murder. Then linked that to Davis, with absolute proof that Davis was still alive, and proof that he had been a past covert operative of your agency. Who we were sure had went off the reservation some time back. Now I have his confession that he committed that murder and the previous murder of Congressman’s Whiteside daughter for the Medellin drug cartel in Columbia. He also confessed to the murder of his old high school principal to cover his tracks, shortly after I had met with Principal Wilson during my investigation. What I don’t know yet, is who in the cartel ordered these hits. That, Assistant Director, is where you come in.”
“Whoa, just a minute, Mr. Cody. I have already told you, that I have been directed to assist both of you however I can. That does not mean you have a blank check. I would like to see some of this evidence, I am not so easily convinced that your evidence is as solid as you say it is. I don’t know exactly what help you are asking for yet, but I can tell you it cannot breach anything that would be considered weakening any national interest.”
Nichols interrupted Metcalf again, this time Nichols was leaning forward, his hands reached over clasping the edge of the Assistant Directors desk as he spoke. “Maybe you need to call your boss again, Metcalf. You might need to hear his instructions repeated. I have seen the evidence, your Director does not want this going to my Director and Senator Carmichael such that we have to open a formal investigation into the CIA’s involvement in illegal falsification of government documents to covertly hire covert operatives. Your agencies inept practices of such people, being able to then become assassins for international drug cartels operating within the United States. Or your agents operating illegally within our borders to impede law enforcement agencies from bringing criminals to justice, much less murdering those suspects before they can be brought to trial and their associations to your agency being made public knowledge. Just one more stall tactic, one more insinuation that we do not have the evidence to do just that, and I will tell Travis it is time for us to leave. Then, we will see just how long you can tread water, in a swamp teeming with very hungry crocodiles.”
“I will help in any way I can, I assure you. But I would like to know how you could find and catch Davis when we could not? I would really like to know how you were so much better at that than us. Is that too much to ask?”
Travis could not help himself but get a very slight smile at Metcalf’s question. He knew they had convinced him. “Not at all. It’s not that your people did anything wrong, it’s just you didn’t think outside the box. Our first clue came in tracking the gun that killed Whiteside, Davis used a fake ID with his picture, but in Whiteside’s name. From there the investigation turned into who had impersonated the Congressman. Once we knew it was Davis, who was supposed to be dead, we could center on him. Then we found that his history in his written records were not completely accurate with his actual history, or let’s say, there were some omissions in the written records. Then we found his accomplice. After that it was just coming up with and executing a plan to lure him out of hiding. The plan worked fine, there only came one hitch, Bigelow. So here we are.”
“That sounds very simplified to me, maybe someday, you will tell me more of how it actually let you find a man easier and faster than my people, who didn’t find him? So, just what kind of help do you want from the Agency?”
“I need to know who in the Medellin ordered the hit, I’m not saying you know, but you probably know the players better than I do right now. That could help us get to a short list of suspects quicker.”
“Okay, but what good will that do you. It’s for sure even if you figure that out, the person will be in Columbia, what good is that going to do. Those people are highly protected and secretive about where they are with who and when they’re where. The different cartels fight amongst themselves as much as with any law enforcement agency or military unit, hell, they own most of them by bribery or threats to families.”
“Agreed, but I still need the information. I am going to bring to justice the man who gave the order and paid for the annihilation an American Congressman’s entire family over a short period of time. The plan is only beginning to gel in my mind so far, but you can go to the bank on the fact that I will not let this go until I see justice done for James Whiteside and his family.”
“No offense to you, Mr. Cody, but that sounds like the old story of the flea and elephant”
“No one who has ever known me would consider me the flea in that story, more like the alpha of a very hungry pride of lions determined on eating elephant. However, I will say this much, however my plan fleshes out, the less people I let know the actual plan, the better its chances of success.”
Metcalf reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a business card and handed it across the desk to Travis. “This is a private number you can reach me on twenty-four seven. Who should I call with any information on the Medellin hierarchy? I can have such a list and other information by this afternoon I am sure.”
Travis handed him a card back with his mobile number on it. “Call this number, if I do not answer myself, make sure it is only one of the names listed on the back of the card. Otherwise, hang up immediately.”
“Done, if there is no more you need for now, I should get people started. And don’t take this wrong, but I hope I never have to see either of you again.”
“Understood.”
Travis and Nichols stood up, shook Metcalf’s hand and left his office. During the drive back to their rendezvous location from earlier in the morning, Nichols commented on how Travis never actually told Metcalf if Davis was still alive or dead, nor who the accomplice was. He also commented on interest in this plan Travis was thinking about. By the time Travis was out of the car and ready to thank the agent, he added that he would give Nichols as much information as soon as he could. Nichol’s thanked him and gave Travis one of his cards as well saying he hoped Travis would keep him in the loop. Travis agreed to keep in close touch, thanking Nichols again for all the agents help.
Travis got into the Land Rover and headed for home. As he exited from the 95 to the 66 headed west he thought more about how he wanted to proceed. He needed more information from Donna Gustafson, he was sure she had more information on the cartel than she had shared so far. Half an hour later he had exited off onto the 15 north, when he got to the intersection with the 50 he pulled over and walked around the intersection for a few minutes thinking about the crash where Felicity Whiteside died. Then he got back in the Land Rover and continued home.
When Travis pulled into his gravel driveway and parked at the house he saw both Dave Askew and Rick Chesterton’s cars parked near the front door. He exhaled a sigh of relief, he knew Andy, Levi and Helen had already gone to work. Both men would be inside with Donna and her daughter Maria.
After closing his front door he could see through into the kitchen, Dave was sitting there with Maria. She had some paper out and was coloring on it, next to the paper was a glass of orange juice about half drank. Dave looked up and nodded in the direction of the stairway down to the basement. Travis turned and walked to the stairs and then down to the office, Donna was sitting next to where Davis was lying while Rick split his attention between her and the computer screen, watching the views from the cameras.
“The Doc left about thirty minutes ago, said he was doing okay and there’s a good chance he’ll survive. Wouldn’t guess when or if he would come out of the coma though.” Dave looked at Donna as he brought Travis up to speed. “How’d your meeting go?”
“We convinced the CIA to back off and give me some help, when I decide just what I need. Then we left, Nichols was a big help, he wants to be kept in the loop and I assured him I would.”
Donna turned to look at Travis, her face was racked with anguish and he could see she had been crying again. “The CIA is responsible for this. He was a good Marine until they seduced him into becoming one of their ghosts. If they had left him alone, he could have finished his hitch, got out and we could have been a family. I know you probably don’t think so, but we could have at least had a chance at a normal life. I love him, I’ll always love him and I don’t care what you or they think.”
“You know if he lives, he’ll be tried for at least the three murders he confessed to.”
“I know, but at least he’ll be alive. I’m not blaming you anymore, if you hadn’t found him someone would eventually. It was the CIA who shot him and you who saved him.”
“The CIA doesn’t know about you, yet. I can probably keep it that way, if you help me find the man in the cartel who contracted and paid him. That’s the man I want now. Do you know who it was?”
“Yes, I know that and a lot more. Tony didn’t keep anything from me, I was his partner, if not his wife. But, what do we get for helping you?”
“I can’t promise you anything, except I will get that man. Beyond that it will depend how much help you will be and what the FBI can, or will, agree to because of your help. I will promise you though that I will make sure Maria is okay and kept as unaware as is humanly possible.”
“And everything will be done to keep Tony alive and getting better.”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I will give you everything I know. When do you want to start?”
“As soon as you are ready. The sooner I learn as much as I can, the sooner I will know what arrangements I need to make to go after the man responsible.”
“No insult intended Mr. Cody, but going after this man in Columbia is a suicide mission. These men are ruthless and hardened, especially in their own country. They fear no one, they are a country onto themselves and they own politicians, police and military. I will give you all the information I have, but that alone will not be enough, know that.”
“I do, let’s get started.”
For the rest of the day and next Travis and Donna went over everything she had, it was all on her computer or floppy disks she had some information stored on. Davis had been meticulous in his keeping records of every transaction, who was killed, where, when and even how. There were records of all the amounts paid, when and in what currency. He had taken other contracts during the time, but all Travis was concerned with were those that related to James Whiteside and his daughter. Davis had nothing to do with Felicity Whiteside, but he had made notes on what he was told and by whom.
Travis had messaged John Little Horse a couple of times so John could do a deeper dive on some of the information. He was still waiting on return messages or phone calls on a few things. He had also kept Andy and Levi fully aware of how it was going. Sheriff Dexter had been by the morning of the second day and asked if Travis had decided exactly what he was going to do yet? Travis told him he was sure he was going to go after the man, just not exactly how as yet. Andy was not too pleased with the idea, but supported him in bringing the man to justice.
Late on the second night while Travis was in his office, on his computer a message came from NDN Will, who he’d not thought more of as John that his Fido net name. He asked if Travis was still up and could talk live. He answered yes. About twenty minutes later Travis’s mobile rang.
“Cody, you must have something urgent.” Travis knew who it was from the number showing on his screen.
“This guy, Juan Correro is a hard one to pin down. But I had some luck with an old service buddy, he’s a rockhead working in Venezuela, been there several years now working for Shell Dutch Oil.”
“By rockhead I assume you mean, he’s a geologist.”
“Yeah, lately he’s heading teams working on some problem with the local geographic issue, calls it subsidence.”
“And he had some new info on Correro.”
“Roger that. He’s actually seen him in Maracaibo once, at the Casino Maruma. Heard scuttle butt that he’s a high roller when he’s showing off for different women he’s trying to bed. Likes ‘em young, well-built and looking expensive.”
“That’s a good flaw to know about. So he could ID him?”
“Could, but says if you’re coming to get him, target well, confirm twice and shoot once, you won’t get a second shot.”
“Sounds like sniper jargon.”
“Kinda, Seal really. Back in the day, he was a Seal’s Seal.”
“You said he was an old service buddy?”
“Yeah, still is. Bob’s good people, always had my back. How many you got going with you, I assume your friend Levi is one of them?”
“No, I want him here protecting Andy and Gustafson, just in case. He won’t like it, but I trust him to hold down the fort. Probably only two, two guys I use occasionally, both ex-Rangers, the two who were here when we caught Davis.”
“So just three of you. Make it four, I want a buy-in. You could need some technical support in making this work, and another gun will probably come in handy. Besides, I figure there might be a chance at getting some payback for all the Rez kids their drugs have hurt and killed. Got transport there and back yet?”
“Yeah, Dave’s got a Cessna T303 Crusader and he’s starting to plan the flight. You sure you want in there’s no guarantees, even though I am assuming you were also a Seal.”
“I was, and tell Dave to plan as far as Aruba, I know Bob’s got connections there because of the Lago refinery on the island. I’m sure he will get us from there to at least Lake Maracaibo where he’s working. Can you get some top quality passports, if not I’ll shop Fido net?”
“Good idea, I’ll get Agent Nichols to work on that, but I’ll need a photo from you.”
“I’ll put one in overnight express in the morning, that’ll be the best resolution. I’ll get back with Bob and get him started on the Aruba to Lake Maracaibo portion. It would be good if the passports had a visa for Venezuela, say tourism with fake names we can remember easily, say like mine being Will Johns.”
“Good thought, think you could be ready and here in four days?”
“See you in four days. And Travis, thanks I won’t let you down.”
“John, that is one thing I am not worried about. See you then.”
Travis signed off his computer, glanced over at the reclining and still unconscious body of Davis before heading upstairs to his bedroom and Andy for some much deserved sleep. The revelation about John Little Horse was quite welcome.
Andy moved backwards against Travis as he crawled into bed and sighed like a cuddling cat. This was what life was truly all about, trust and love.
