COVERT WRITERS TAKEDOWN - Joe Bergeron (different ereaders TXT) 📗

Chevy station wagon
she’d rented only an hour earlier, a decision that had
been made in a telephone conversation the day prior to
lease a vehicle, thinking her own car may have been
bugged.
As it was, two blue Ford Crown Victoria
sedans, each containing two CIA personnel were close
enough to be able to keep both vehicles in sight. A third
Ford with the same number of people would follow St.
Croix to the McKenzie residence.
The Zero spotted two of the vehicles as they
approached the wagon.
“Mick, y’all got company from that blue Ford
down the street, and from another one over there by
that pizza house. Four guys…might have a video goin,
and ah’m sure they’ll have some kind of listening
device.
“Will they be able to hear me and Kay in the
car?”
“Not with the radio on.”
While pulling the Bronco directly behind the
wagon, Kay caught sight of the vehicle in her rear-view
mirror.
Turning - her eyes met his.
The most meaningful connection two humans
can make is eye-to-eye contact. The eyes reveal the
soul, and communicate the feelings of the heart. In this
one instant of corneal contact, each revealed their love
for the other.
Lifting the door handle, he addressed his
partner.
“I’ll see you at Pat’s?”
St. Croix had seen the look he’d communicated
to her.
“Yep…Mick - if it feels right - it probably is.”
The two men shook hands and smiled.
“Thanks, Andy.”
390
Courtney left the Bronco.
A secured radio in the Ford on the street began
transmitting again, prompted to do so by the car’s
driver.
“Courtney’s entering the wagon. He’s in…
they’re…hugging each other.
David Eisenberg, on the receiving end of the
transmission, listened from the McKenzie home.
“Where’s St. Croix.”
“He’s leaving the scene. Three will stop him.”
“Tell Three that won’t be necessary.”
“Sir?”
“Just have him followed - he’ll be coming here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“What’s Courtney doing now?
“……the same.”
“Do you have any audio?”
“Garbled - the radio’s on.”
“Stay with them.”
“They’ll be coming here after a while too.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He’d gently placed his left hand on the back of
her head. With his right, he caressed her left cheek.
Looking through her eyes, his voice had that soft
strength she’d come to know only from this man.
“Kay, I love you.”
Burying his head between her neck and
shoulder, he sobbed. His hands gripped her shoulders -
searching for her strength.
She’d begun to cry in the same moment. To an
observer, it wouldn’t be clear who was comforting who.
To them, it was perfectly clear.
They remained embraced, weeping for five
minutes. The crying ended with her giggle, and a brief,
unsolicited rejoinder for the moment.
“Hey, Michael - Law Nineteen if really true…and I love
you too.”
391
Filling their arms with each other, they
laughed uncontrollably, cried again, laughed again, and
finally met eye-to-eye again.
Her full lips felt soft barely touching his.
Intense eyes swept her face.
In a single motion, he drew her body to his.
The passion they’d felt many times before returned with
a newness neither one had ever experienced. It was
passion with peace, boldness attached to security,
physical joy filled with emotional harmony.
There’d be many times - later - to relive every
part of this reunion - this new beginning for them.
She had to tell him about Tollman.
“Michael……”
The pain of those moments returned
temporarily.
Through tears she related the incident at
Tollman’s house. She’d gone there to find out the truth
about her brother, John.
He’d been right about John being executed by
his Company Commander in the jungles of Vietnam.
The Secretary had raged and overpowered her.
She’d been brutally attacked by this man, who in turn
was summarily met with retaliation by Eisenberg’s
men.. Robert and Helen Wirtham had nurtured, cared
for, and sheltered her until her father had returned.
She’d had time to review her relationship with
her teacher and lover. They’d need to talk about issues,
but there was time. She loved him, wanted him, and
needed him, and all three of these were OK with her.
Courtney’s mind ran through anger at her, at
Tollman, at Eisenberg. He’d need to put part of it in
perspective, now, not later. This woman was a victim.
His woman. What had happened was over. She was
safe. He loved her, and she needed comfort. Tollman
was gone, and Eisenberg had risen from an adversary
to a non-entity. Tollman hadn’t died in the airplane
crash. What was that all about?
392
He’d deal with it later. She had to come first
right now. He offered her his handkerchief, pulled from
his right rear pocket.
“Kay…”
He lifted her chin to look in her eyes.
“…I’m sorry that happened to you - it must
have been very frightening. It’s over, Kay, you’re safe.”
They held each other again. She cried - he
cried.
Tuesday, June 1, 12:10 p.m.
The radio in the Ford came alive.
“What’s happening?”
“They’re still just…talking.”
“OK, if they’re not on their way in five
minutes…”
“Hold on - they’re moving. Courtney’s driving.”
“Follow them here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Courtney saw them make the U-turn in the
mirror.
Everyone knew where everyone was going.
Temporarily.
Tuesday, June 1, 12:38 p.m.
He maneuvered the wagon right behind the
Bronco. Andy had left it on the street, even though
there was ample room in the driveway. The lead Ford
had pulled up to within sixty feet behind the wagon.
The other Ford, passing both vehicles, stopped about
fifty yards down the road and on the shoulder.
The day was unusually warm for this time of
year on Long Island Sound. It was almost eighty-seven
degrees and heading for a high of ninety-three. Kay
had worn a pair of tan Abercrombie climbing shorts,
sling back sandals, and an embroidered white cotton
pullover top.
393
Her blond bangs touched just above her
eyebrows. The rest of her hair was pulled up and back.
A ponytail beginning almost in the middle of the top of
her head just reached the back of her neck.
For him the whole package came together with
charismatic, girlish womanliness. To him, she was
totally charming and cute, and elegantly beautiful at
the same time.
They would promise each other a rigorous
search of themselves, and a commitment to always
place each other as the first priority in their lives.
The moment between them now was filled with
both trust and healthy needs.
It was time to find out what was waiting in the
house.
They would enter by a side veranda to use a
bathroom off a guest bedroom to freshen up. Kay would
change into a blue and white polka dot sundress and
white flats. Her hair would be let down and combed
straight, her makeup would be modest.
The screen door on the veranda was opened for
them from the inside. On the porch, two men were
dressed casually for the weather, a third wore a
summer suit. Courtney took notice that all three were
wearing small ear receivers. He knew these had to be
tied into a central processing unit somewhere, probably
close by.
Additionally, each of them wore hip-mounted
firearms - nine millimeter Berettas.
No one’s holster had a cover flap which would
have encumbered quick access to their firearms. He
thought all of this to be odd since the meeting wasn’t
really that big. There wasn’t anyone here, he thought,
who would need to have men who were in constant
contact with each other.
They’d quickly frisked him and found him
unarmed. He’d left the Colt Coverty had given him in
the Bronco.
394
Maybe Andy had gone in with his Colt. So
what, he was in charge of Yankee Echo security.
Kay entered the bathroom first, to wash her
face, and to fix her hair and makeup. Courtney sat on
the end of the bed waiting.
Five minutes later she appeared.
“Your turn - I need to change into something
more appropriate.”
“More appropriate? You look fine. Were just
going to talk to your dad and probably Robert and
Eisenberg.”
“Go freshen up - you’ll see.”
He needed only two minutes to wash his face.
Exiting, he noticed her putting on a final touch
of lip gloss in a mirror mounted on the back of a small
white makeup table. She could see his reflection in the
same.
“Ready, Michael?”
“Yes, you look summerly formal.”
Her wide smile was accompanied by a subtle
nod.
Approaching him, she squeezed both his hands.
“Michael…there’s some surprises in there you
don’t know about.”
“What surprises? Nothing will surprise me the
rest of my life.”
“It’s OK - trust me - you’ll see.”
It was his turn to nod - he did trust her.
395
Tuesday, June 1, 12:55 p.m.
Leaving the guest bedroom, they proceeded
down a hallway leading to McKenzie’s very large formal
living room.
Entering it, Courtney now understood what
‘surprises’ meant, and why she had changed her clothes
to become summerly formal.
There were six people present.
Randall Benson, President of the United States
sat on a wide, floral patterned couch, a middle cushion
separating him and Scott Orefice.
Directly across from them on a matching couch
sat Pat McKenzie and Robert Wirtham. A large inlaid
multi-colored tile coffee table separated the two pieces
of furniture.
Two overstuffed club chairs in close proximity,
and on either side of a huge antique red brick fireplace
were occupied by David Eisenberg and Andy St. Croix.
He knew four of the men by sight. Although
he’d never met President Benson, he was easily
recognizable from the mountain of media coverage he
received.
His introduction to the CIA brass was supposed
to have come from David Eisenberg, who’d risen, and
was now approaching him and Kay.
Courtney took a short, lateral step toward her.
She felt the movement, and understood that it was
meant for her, not for him. She also knew the playing
field was about to be set, and decided it was time to
move herself to a love seat that had been repositioned
for her, and for the only other person in the room who
wouldn’t have a seat if he didn’t sit next to her.
Just prior to taking this action, she’d reached
across Courtney’s back with her left hand. A gentle rub
gave him a very clear emotional message.
Eisenberg now stood a foot away from him. At
least three inches taller than the analyst, the Deputy
Director sensed some nervousness. 396
The fact that he had him in height was self
evident.
Courtney’s anxiety level was somewhat visible,
but not because he wasn’t trying to use everything he’d
ever learned to hide it.
He finally decided on offense-defense.
Not waiting for an introduction, he made a
guess, and took charge.
“You must be David Eisenberg.”
“Yes…I’d like to..”
Courtney extended his hand, and finalized this
introduction.
“Nice to finally meet you.”
Moving toward the couches, he stood before the
President and CIA Director, creating a situation totally
out of protocol.
He’d gained emotional control of the room.
He couldn’t believe he was in the same room
with the President of The United States. Thoughts
were racing back and forth through his mind. ‘What the
hell is so important that he be here? Is it because of
Tollman? Pat McKenzie? Was the President involved
all along? Who’s this other guy? Probably Orefice.’
Eisenberg had been left fifteen feet behind.
Neither the President nor the CIA Director had
had a chance to react to Courtney’s move. They were
still sitting, and because Courtney wasn’t speaking,
they did the only thing that seemed logical - they stood.
Convention dictates that someone of lesser
prestige or rank be introduced by someone else to
another person of greater esteem or grade.
Courtney skipped the rules and introduced
himself, once again extending his hand.
“I’m Michael Courtney.”
Although