Puzzle by Nora Phoenix
9
Seth closed the door of the boring, sparse FBI meeting room behind him. “Grab a seat,” he told his fellow agent, Jules Gallagher. Damn, the guy looked like he’d been on a two-week drinking binge with bloodshot eyes and a pale face. Seth had worked maybe one or two shifts with him, but they’d never been on the same detail as Jules had been assigned to President Markinson’s team and had quit after the assassination, even though he hadn’t been on duty that night. And now he’d called Seth out of the blue, asking to meet with him.
Jules lowered himself into one of the uncomfortable chairs. Seth wondered if they’d been deliberately picked to be crappy to pressure people into getting to the point. He should ask Coulson sometime.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Jules said.
“Of course.”
Jules rubbed his temples, and Seth waited patiently. The man clearly had something he needed to say. “I wasn’t on shift when the president was assassinated,” Jules finally said, his voice raw.
“I know.”
“But I saw the footage and…” He let out a sigh. “My wife asked me to quit. She’d always known about the hypothetical risks, but that event made it clear the dangers were real.”
“It’s hard on spouses.” Seth figured a listening ear would be the best strategy, since he had no idea where Jules was going with this.
“I was relieved to get a job with the local sheriff’s department as a deputy. A demotion, but one that came with the perk of seeing my kids, having a more predictable schedule, and, considering the rural county we live in, little danger.”
“I can imagine. The Secret Service life is high pressure and can be rough to combine with having a family.”
“When I received Director James’s repeated requests for anyone who had information concerning the assassination to come forward, I ignored them. I figured it was in the past, and what was done was done. Besides, we all knew that even though, technically, we were at fault, the reality was that we had to do an impossible job under untenable conditions. This one had been coming for a long time.”
“Hmm.” Seth would keep it noncommittal at this point.
Jules met Seth’s eyes. “And since I wasn’t on shift, I didn’t think I had much to contribute. Especially since I happened to be off the three days prior to the assassination due to a nasty stomach bug that forced me to stay in close proximity to the bathroom.”
Seth winced. “Oy. Those are the worst.”
“Bad chicken, man. Don’t recommend it.” He took a breath. “But a week ago, I finally read the director’s requests in more detail, and I realized I did know something. She listed specific issues you were trying to get answers to, and one of them was how the bomber got his hands on a Secret Service pin.”
Seth leaned forward. “What do you know?”
“It was mine. I lost one and didn’t report it.”
Bingo.Another piece of the puzzle. Seth forced himself to stay calm. “How did you lose it?”
“Mind you, I didn’t notice losing it, but in hindsight, I connected the dots. That guy who called into the radio broadcast with claims about Mrs. Markinson and Mrs. Shafer?”
“Gavin Wedmore?”
Jules nodded. “I collided with him four days before the assassination. I was walking patrol in the West Wing, and he bumped into me, spilling coffee and some kind of salad all over me. He apologized profusely and helped me clean myself up. Because I was on shift, I had to rush down to change into another shirt and suit, and when I did, I noticed the pin missing. I figured it had come off while cleaning myself up, but when I went to look for it, I couldn’t find it. I wanted to report it, but things got hectic, and then I got sick, and…”
“And then the president was killed, and it didn’t seem important anymore.”
“It didn’t, not until I read Director James’s email. I’m so sorry, Seth.”
Seth nodded. “I know. We have tapes of him wearing the pin, but the thing is that we can’t know for sure it was your pin, since it was obliterated in the blast. I think your explanation is likely, though, and it eliminates a major concern.”
“You were afraid they had an inside man in the Secret Service.” He grimaced. “Other than Diane, I mean.”
The news about Diane’s arrest had made the rounds, first inside the Secret Service and then in the press, though the charges had been kept secret so far, citing national security—not a stretch. “Yes, so you can imagine my relief to know that it was procured through different means. I wish we could’ve asked Wedmore for details, but alas… I’ll check the security tapes to see if we caught the accident on camera, just for full closure, but this seems most likely. Thank you for coming forward, Jules.”
“I feel so stupid…” Jules said with a sigh. “I should’ve known better, should’ve figured out the connection much sooner.”
As much as Seth wanted to agree with him and kick his ass for not speaking up sooner, in all fairness, Jules couldn’t have known. Yes, he should have read the emails sooner, but that incident couldn’t have made him suspicious on its own. “We weren’t trained to look for the enemy in our midst,” he said gently. “You weren’t expecting a White House staffer to have such sinister intent. You couldn’t have known.”
“Thank you for saying that. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself, though.”
“I get that, but remember this. After what happened to President Markinson, we were on high alert…and they still managed to get to Mrs. Shafer.”
“Yeah… The whole thing is one big fuckup and an embarrassing tragedy for the Service.”
“It is. No one feels that more deeply than me…aside from Director James, perhaps.”
“I don’t envy your position. I will say that.”
“Thank you. It’s not easy, I’ll admit. But thanks for coming forward, Jules. I appreciate it.”
Jules nodded. “Will this have repercussions for me?”
“I can’t tell you. That’s not my call. I’ll report this back to Director James, and what happens after that is on her.”
He doubted the director would pursue legal actions against Jules, but he didn’t say it. They had bigger fish to fry than someone who had made a stupid but not deliberate mistake.
As soon as Jules had left, Seth walked into the office he shared with Coulson. More than a few people had commented that they could never survive being with their partner twenty-four seven, but Seth loved it. He and Coulson both had found a good distinction between personal and professional, and only in rare cases did they cross that line.
“What did he have for you?” Coulson asked as soon as Seth sat down. He’d known about the appointment.
“A lead on how Ghulat Babur got his Secret Service pin.” He caught Coulson up on what Jules had shared. “I’m glad he came forward. It’s a minor detail, but it’ll make us feel better we don’t have another traitor in our midst.”
“For sure. I have some news to share myself. Gary stopped by when you were in with your fellow agent. We have an ID on the boat that was used to let the divers into the water and Mrs. Markinson’s boathouse. You’ll never guess who owns it…”
Seth raised an eyebrow. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Judging by your face, it’s a good one.”
“Rex King, father of Basil and Regina King…”
Seth’s heart skipped a beat. “Holy shit. That’s insane. How the hell did he ever give permission for that? Or did he?”
“That part, we don’t know about, but it’s obvious they didn’t think they’d ever get caught. The boat was launched several miles downstream, and it never got close enough to Mrs. Markinson’s property to be spotted. Those divers must’ve swum a good distance. But get this. The boat was transported on a trailer, one that was borrowed from a marina and put back afterward, but the truck that pulled it wasn’t borrowed or stolen. It belonged to one Dwayne Gable, a former Army diver, whose current employer is…”
“Kingmakers.”
“Bingo.”
“How did they ever think they’d get away with this? Did they really think we’d stop digging before we found the truth?”
Coulson looked pensive. “I’ve asked myself that as well, and even Sheehan brought it up the other day. Here’s the thing, though. In my experience, being a criminal always comes with a certain amount of stupidity and arrogance, and it’s one or both of those that will get them caught.”
“True, though you’d have to be arrogant to the extreme to think you’d get away with a presidential assassination.”
“It makes me wonder what they’ve done over the years that no one ever noticed, other than that one case of their unit raping and killing civilians in Iraq. We see this all the time in our investigations. Criminals become bolder over time if they don’t get caught for smaller stuff. They develop a sense of being untouchable…and it always leads to their downfall.”
“How many big cases did the FBI never solve?” Seth asked.
“I haven’t counted them, but if we’re talking about famous cases, it’s not more than a handful. The biggest and most notorious one is the aircraft hijacking by D.B. Cooper in 1971. The guy hijacked an airplane, then jumped out of it midair with the ransom money, never to be seen again. It’s no longer an active case, but I know plenty of agents who studied the evidence, hoping to notice what everyone else had missed. Oh, and let’s not forget the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa. That one bugs us still as well.”
Seth smiled at Coulson’s use of the word us, as if he personally felt responsible, even though both crimes had taken place decades before he’d joined the FBI. Hell, before he’d even been born. He understood it, though, just like he still cringed at the failure of the Secret Service to protect JFK.
“But to get back to Kingmakers, I suspect that if we dig deep into their actions, we’ll find more crimes they committed. Smaller ones, escalating over time,” Coulson said. “Time will tell. One thing is certain. They won’t evade justice this time. The grand jury has been convened, and Legal told me they’re expecting the first round of subpoenas to go out this week. The proof is stacking up against them, and it’s irrefutable.”
Tears burned behind Seth’s eyes. Why was he crying? Coulson shot him an intense look, then got up and closed the door. “Come here, baby.” Before he’d even finished, Seth had jumped up and stepped into his embrace.
Those strong arms wrapped around him, and he clung to him, literally and mentally leaning on Coulson. Why was he so emotional?
“It’s okay. This has been one hell of a year for you, baby,” Coulson said softly. “It’s so much more personal for you than it is for me or anyone else from my team. And I love you for it, for your sense of honor and duty and the pride you have in what you do.”
Seth was exhausted. The fisting had helped, but it was becoming clear he’d drained his reserves, depleted them. “I wanna see this through till the end.”
“And you will. We’re almost there, baby. Hang in just a little longer, and then we’ll go away together. Find a remote cabin in the woods or something and just sleep and read and watch TV…and fuck. Lots and lots of fucking.”
Seth smiled through the tears that were still clouding his vision. “I’d love that. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Coulson was quiet for a moment, then dropped his voice to a whisper. “Want me to fist you again?”
“Would you?”
“It would be my privilege. I loved sharing that with you…and this time, we can do it without Asher.”
“Thank you. I need it badly.”
“Tonight, baby. You, me, your ass, and my hand. It’s a date.”
The warmth that spread through Seth at that promise proved once again that love could be communicated in many different ways other than through saying “I love you.”
