Gambit by David Hagberg (manga ereader .txt) 📗

Where Kallek was tall, all bony angles, with a long, narrow face and deep-set eyes, the president’s chief of staff was a short man, everything about him round—his frame, his bald head, even his nose. His nickname since high school had been Charlie Brown, and if he’d ever resented it, he’d never let on. In fact, he was anything but wishy-washy. He was a sharp, decisive man, very hard around the edges, never soft and round.

“Considering your past service to the country and the recent happenings, the president is offering any help he can,” Sherman started. “I thought it would be appropriate to ask Harold to join us, if you have no objections.”

“None whatsoever,” Mac said. “The more heads we can put together, the quicker we’ll get this resolved.”

Kallek nodded. “Two attempts have been made on your life. We have a pretty good idea why, but not who.”

“I’ve made a few enemies,” McGarvey said, not going any further for the moment. First he wanted to see how both men would handle his presence, because he was sure that Sherman as well as the president had an idea where Mac had already taken it.

“A host of them,” Kallek said. “But this time, a South African and, of all people, a Canadian. Both men ex–Special Forces operators who apparently were working as contractors. But again, we come up against the same question—hired by whom?”

“The Russians?” Sherman suggested.

“It’s possible. But I don’t think it’ll turn out to be an intelligence agency–directed business. There’d be too much blowback if it turned out that Putin ordered me killed.”

Sherman spread his hands. “But you have some ideas.”

“A couple that the president will not like.”

“We’ve gathered as much.”

“Not too long ago, I had a run-in with a number of people in the Pentagon who wanted to bring President Weaver down.”

“Yes, and the president continues to be grateful for your help.”

A group of mid-level military intelligence officers had worked out a plot to create a series of false but realistic reports of incidents around the world at places that were considered possible nuclear flash points. India-Pakistan the most critical. The idea was to dump so many major issues all at once on the president’s lap that he couldn’t possibly make the right decision.

Weaver would have come out looking so totally incompetent, such a danger to the U.S. that he would have to be removed from office.

“Are you thinking that someone still inside the Pentagon may be holding a grudge against you?” Kallek asked.

“It’s possible.”

“We don’t agree,” Sherman said. He got up, went to his desk, brought a thick file folder back, handed it to McGarvey, and sat down. “That’s an outline of a classified after-action report of the incident. It was spearheaded by the Bureau with the cooperation of the DIA and every other intelligence organization within the military. The insane plot was broken up thanks to you, and everyone involved was dealt with.”

McGarvey put the folder on the table. “I know.”

The FBI chief started to object, but Sherman held him off. “Mr. McGarvey, as all current and former CIA directors, has his sources. So far as we’re concerned, the business with anyone in the Pentagon holding grudges has been resolved.”

“I thought that it might be, but there have been two attempts on my life, and I suspect that there will be more. I’m just checking all the boxes.”

“Which is why you spoke with Colonel Ward,” Kallek said.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing here?” Kallek said.

“I’ll answer that,” Sherman said. “It’s about Marty Bambridge and Bill Rodak. Marty was a traitor inside the CIA, and Bill worked here as a senior adviser to the president. They were both involved in another plot. And Mr. McGarvey might suspect that one of their friends might be behind the attempts on his life. Is that about right?”

“It’s a start,” Mac said, the meeting going exactly where he’d wanted it to go. Poke a stick into a hornet’s nest, Pete had said.

“Are you sure that the CIA is clean?”

“We’re working on it.”

“And now the White House,” Sherman said. “I suspect that you want to talk to the president, but I’d strongly advise against it. He’s grateful for your help, but presidents when pushed have a nasty habit of sometimes pushing back.”

“In any event, you’re not here in any official capacity, Mr. McGarvey,” the FBI director said. “You’re here as a private citizen who is unfortunately—though not surprisingly—the target of two assassination attempts. It’s a problem for the Bureau, not the White House.”

“I agree,” Mac said.

Sherman was surprised. “Then what are you doing here?”

“As I said, just covering my bases.” McGarvey got up. “I’ll take your advice and not bother the president this time.”

“Trust me, Mr. Director, the Bureau is working the case,” Kallek said.

“I know, and I appreciate your help.”

“I’ve assigned people to cover your back.”

“Thank you, I’ve spotted them, and so will the opposition if and when they show up again.”

Sherman was skeptical. “What now?” he asked.

“My wife and I are getting out of Washington. For now, we’re going back to Florida. Later, we might head to Serifos.”

Sherman nodded. “It’s a little hot here right now,” he said. “In the meantime, you might want to take the after-action report with you. Though I’d like it back.”

“Thanks,” McGarvey said. “But I’ve already read it.”

The aide escorted Mac out and asked if he needed a cab to take him back.

“It’s a nice day, thanks. Think I’ll walk.”

Pete was waiting in her BMW around the corner on Madison Place next to Lafayette Park. He hurried across Pennsylvania Avenue and got in the passenger seat.

“How’d it go?” she asked, pulling away from the curb.

“The seeds have been planted.”

“The DIA, which means the Pentagon, and now the White House,” Pete said. “What about the Bureau?”

“Kallek was there in Sherman’s office.”

“Did you get to see the president?”

“I declined,” McGarvey said.

Pete smiled. “Good thinking, but of course your meddling will get back to him as fast as Sherman’s chubby little legs will carry him