Choppy Water - Stuart Woods Page 0,33

“There, now it’s just you and me.”

“That’s best, I think.”

“So, tell me how I would get this person killed if I blabbed?”

“Au contraire,” he said, as he might have when they were in the same French class. “Blabbing is what I want from you.”

“So, you want me to send a message to somebody?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Who?”

“An infamous spinner of conspiracy theories, who is one of your readers.”

“Who, and how do you know he reads my stuff?”

“Jake Wimmer, because he complains about you nearly every day.”

“Point taken. And what particular flea do you want me to put in his ear?”

Tom took a sheet of paper from his inside pocket and handed it to her. “This flea.”

She read it. “And why didn’t I know about this?”

“Because it didn’t come up at her Senate hearing when she was appointed secretary of state.”

“Did the president arrange for it not to come up?”

Tom gave her a big shrug. “How would I know a thing like that?”

“Did you?”

“I did not. It was thoroughly investigated by two police agencies at the time, and by the CIA and the FBI later.”

“Was there even the slightest evidence that she might have shot the man and made it look like a suicide?”

“No, not a whit, and there’s a reason for that.”

“What reason?”

“She didn’t do it, so there was no evidence that she did. She also passed two polygraph exams, at the Agency and the Bureau.”

“So I’m on solid ground, if I print that.”

“Granite.”

“And you want me to head him off at the pass?”

“Exactly. Your piece will be on the AP, UPI, and Reuters wires before it hits the newsstands, so Wimmer is not going to waste his time inventing a conspiracy theory that’s already been repeatedly debunked.”

“Okay, I’m in. I’ll have the duck. And after that, you want to go someplace and do something that rhymes with the dish?”

“Peg, I have a wife I love dearly, who demands all my strength at home. Also, she would cut my throat with a dull knife if she thought for a moment that I was doing that.”

As he was speaking, he was giving her a thumbs-up while switching off the bug in his pocket.

26

Bill Wright got a call from his boss. “Good morning,” he said.

“Bill, we got a tip from our source,” the man said.

“Same one as last time?”

“Yes.”

“And what good news does she have for us today?”

“The group we’re dealing with has a marksman in its midst, who is undergoing further training. Also, a special silencer is being created specifically for his weapon.”

“Which is?”

“We’re told a high-powered rifle, that’s all. No caliber or maker.”

“We’re sure this is the same source as last time?”

“Apparently.”

“Can I ask a question?” Bill said.

“Of course.”

“If our source knows who these people are, why haven’t we arrested them for the Maine killings?”

“She has no knowledge of that incident and, thus, no evidence to connect them with it.”

“Does she have any clue as to where or when they will make the attempt?”

“No, but the source says they know that she’s coming back to Washington for a few days, so that gives us a time frame.”

“I’d give a lot to know how they know that.”

“We all would, Bill. Our task now is to absolutely ensure her safety while she’s here. When and how is she arriving?”

“Tomorrow, aboard her friend Barrington’s aircraft. At Manassas—it’s a lot easier to cover than Dulles.”

“It is. The equivalent of a White House detail will meet her. It’s a budget-buster, but I have to do it.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Instead of meeting her with a lot of agents, why don’t we just disguise her a bit and have her met by a car that’s armored but appears to be civilian.”

“What do you mean by ‘disguise’?”

“Gray wig, sunglasses, dowdy coat. Age her twenty years.”

“That’s unconventional for us.”

“But cheap,” Bill reminded him.

“I can’t argue with that. You handle it from your end.”

“I can do that. I have another suggestion.”

“Go ahead.”

“If she stays in her Georgetown house, then we’re back to the full-detail problem. Why not put her in a place that’s inaccessible and much safer?”

“Sounds good. What do you have in mind?”

“The family quarters of the White House.”

“You think the president will go for that?”

“I think she’ll be delighted. They’re old friends and colleagues.”

“That’s right. I’ll call the president.”

“Why not just call the head of the White House detail and ask him to ask her? Keep it out of official channels, where it might cause talk.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Bill. Let me know

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