Friday afternoon (two days later): FBI Headquarters-Langley Washington DC

Special Agent Andrews sat in the waiting room of the famed J. Edgar Hoover Building on Pennsylvania Ave, headquarters for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

From his seated position he saw the elevator doors open.  He instantly recognized Rose Red Feather, Rainhorse’s attorney and the wife of his nephew. He raised his hand to catch her attention.

She nodded and walked toward him, looking at her watch.

“It’s almost two-thirty,” she said. “I barely made it on time.”

“I hope you brought a book,” Andrews remarked. “They scheduled me to meet with them at one o’clock and I'm still sitting here.”

“For an hour and a half?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Sucks to be you.”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Andrews said.

“I didn’t know you’d be here, either,” she said. “They didn’t sound happy when I talked to them.  You think they’d be more pleased.”

“You are a private citizen,” Andrews said. “You could have declined their request. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“They didn’t make it sound optional,” Rose replied. “Besides, I’ve never seen the Smithsonian.”

He chuckled.

“I don’t get it,” Rose continued. “You won the day.  Why the inquisition?”

“The president is under pressure,” Andrews said. “Word about the bomb leaked out right away, the media panicked and the rumor mill snowballed. The president had to release a statement to stop the bleeding from all the doomsayers out there. That statement was full of holes. The press will keep digging. It’s only a matter of time until the whole story gets out there.”

“I heard the statement from the president,” Rose said. “Stephen King could not write better fiction.  Not a word about Rainhorse and his role? Really?”

“News of the FBI working with an incarcerated assassin to catch the monster behind all of it would not have played well with the press.” Andrews said.

“I suppose,” Rose agreed.

“And you know Rainhorse, the last thing he would have wanted… is publicity.”

“True.”

“Agent Andrews,” a smart-looking thirty-five-ish woman called out. “The director will see you now.”

“Word of advice,” Rose said. “Keep your answers short and on point—no elaboration.”

Andrews looked at Rose, “Thanks for the tip, counselor. Guess it’s showtime.”

“Want a breath mint?” she replied.

Andrews smiled and stood, following the woman who called him down a long hallway.

Political experts have often referred the White House as being the greatest home-court advantage in the world, but Andrews guessed the large conference room of the J. Edgar Hoover Building was not too far behind. Walking into a room and coming face-to-face with four of the most powerful men in the country was an intimidating experience.

It was the same four men he’d spoke with via video conference a week earlier. That was intimidating enough, but being in the same room with them made him so nervous he thought he’d vomit.

James Kelsey, the president’s Chief of Staff, was the first to greet him and shake his hand, “Andrews,” he called out. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” he affirmed.

FBI Director Randall Rice and Deputy Director Bowman also shook his hand and greeted him. Director of National Intelligence David Coetzee remained seated but gave him a cursory nod, saying only, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Andrews. Have a seat.”

Andrews sat on the right side of an enormous conference table directly across from the four men seated.

“So, Andrews, how are you holding up?” Bowman said. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine, sir,” Andrews answered, remembering what Rose had told him.

Kelsey leaned over the table, “First thing’s first. On behalf of the president, the men in this room and the entire nation, thank you for your role in averting what could have only been the worst disaster in the history of the United States.”

“Your welcome, sir,” Andrews replied, waiting for the giant ‘but.’

“But you got lucky son,” Coetzee said, right on cue. “That whole cowboy routine at the end could have gone south. If Seattle had gone up in ashes, all eyes would be on you.”

“With all due respect sir, I think Barnabas and Angela Burk would have shouldered much of that blame.”

He saw Kelsey crack a small smile.

“Agent Andrews,” Director Rice began. “You kept us out of the loop in those final hours. You turned a tremendous amount of responsibility over to a... common thug, a paid assassin. Coetzee is right. You got very lucky.”

“As to keeping you out of the loop,” Andrews answered, “we were coming down to the wire. The clock was literally ticking. I felt like I had to act... not talk.”

“Your report confused me. How did you discover the bomb was actually on the Chinese Barge?” Kelsey asked. “Can you elaborate?”

“Yes,” Andrews said. “I’d told Rainhorse we believed the weapon was acquired through underground Chinese channels. He told me about a relationship Barnabas had with a Captain Chang, who had brought in drugs from Asia on many occasions. As we were trying to locate Chang, Agent Zager from my team discovered the sudden disappearance of Max Mason. That made our ears perk.”

“Mason was the Customs and Border Protection agent who was found dead, correct?” asked Kelsey.

“That’s right,” Andrews confirmed. “Mason had been on our watch list for some time now. It had been long suspected that he had been receiving kickbacks to look the other way when certain Chinese contraband arrived via boat. No one ever made the connection to Barnabas, however.”

“What kind of contraband?” Bowman asked.

“At first it was small stuff, counterfeit branded goods: Rolex watches; Bose headphones, Apple iPads... stuff like that. But they discovered more serious stuff in a raid of a warehouse in Olympia, Washington. Specifically, QZB-95’s.”

“The Bullpup rifle?” Rice asked.

“That’s right,” Andrews said.

“What’s a Bullpup rifle?” Kelsey asked.

“Those are the assault rifles used by China’s internal security force, the People’s Armed Police,” Andrews said. “It also has been Barnabas Quince’s weapon of choice for illegal gun sales. We found Bullpup rifles on the men who attacked Lindsay Vanderbilt.”

“And the connection?” Kelsey said.

“Agent Corbetta’s forensic team followed the trail of those weapons back to a port on the Puget Sound and discovered they arrived on Max Mason’s watch.  When we cross-referenced ships coming from mainland China, the Chinese barge, FOCUS, came up. FOCUS also parked on the Puget Sound two miles from Seattle. Max Mason’s last order before he disappeared was to issue a quarantine, preventing the barge from docking.”

“So, it was just sitting there?” Rice asked.

“That’s right,” Andrews said. “It was Mason’s job to schedule the CDC to come in after the quarantine and he created a fake order that was never executed. So, it sat there, floating… two miles away.”

“Waiting to go boom.” Kelsey said.

Andrews nodded, “And after Max Mason disappeared, no one else knew why Mason detained the FOCUS.”

“So, you put all those facts together, and it makes for a very nice, secluded, quiet place to set off a nuclear device,” Kelsey noted.

“Right in plain sight,” Bowman added. “Literally.”

“Had the detonation occurred, it would have reduced all of Seattle and Tacoma to ash and rubble. Much more of the state would then wash away with the massive tidal wave,” Andrews said. “The water would have made it all the way to the Cascade Mountain Range. No one would have stood a chance.”

“Thank god it didn’t happen,” Kelsey said.

“Once we verified the bomb was on the barge, I coordinated activity with Rainhorse. My team would seize and deactivate the bomb. He took care of Barnabas and his top lieutenant.”

“And I take strong issue with that decision, Agent Andrews,” Coetzee barked. “You should not have allowed Rainhorse to...”

“I had no choice, sir,” Andrews interrupted. “He didn’t tell me where Barnabas was, just that he knew where he’d be and he would handle it. He did.e did”

“And what if Rainhorse got killed before you deactivated the device?” Coetzee shot back. “Barnabas could have set the bomb off...”

“It wouldn’t have happened, sir,” Andrews said. “Once we knew what we were dealing with, we called the Chinese government. They were all too happy to help us avoid the inevitable association with a Chinese nuclear device being detonated on US soil.  The Chinese knew if a remote, not a timer, was used for detonation, it would be activated by satellite signal.”

“Chinese satellite?” Kelsey asked.

“That’s right,” Andrews said. “The Chinese government took down all communications with their satellites in contact with the US. If they hadn’t done it on their own, we were prepared to jam their signals.”

Kelsey nodded, “So, even if we were unable to disarm the device, Barnabas would not have been able to communicate with the weapon.”

“That’s correct. The worse thing that would have happened is that Barnabas would have gotten away, again, but I had a high degree of confidence it wouldn’t happen,” Andrews explained.

“Why do you place so much trust in him?” Bowman asked.

“The man’s good—damn good.”

“Sounds like you had your bases covered, Agent,” Rice said. “And I see you also found the money and the Chinese who delivered the bomb?”

“We did,” Andrews said.

Kelsey slapped both hands on the table, “Well, I’m satisfied. There’s only one matter to clear up.”

“Rainhorse,” Andrews said.

“That’s right,” Coetzee said. “I want that Cheyenne’s ass on my dinner plate by this time next week.”

“That’s not going to happen, sir,” Andrews said.

“And why not?”

“For two reasons. One, he did exactly what we asked him to do. We offered him his freedom if he succeeded within forty-eight hours, and he did.”

“That’s horseshit!” Coetzee scowled. “He broke away from your custody with an hour of being released. He could have gotten half the west coast torched.”

“With all due respect, we would not have found the bomb or caught Barnabas without him. The people of the United States owe him a tremendous debt.”

“He violated the agreement,” Coetzee insisted. “The law is the law.”

“You said there were two reasons,” Kelsey said. “What was the second?”

“He spent the better part of twenty years off our radar,” Andrews said. “The only reason he was in prison is because he turned himself in. The man has disappeared once again. You’ll never find him.”

“Not us... you,” said Coetzee.

“Me?”

“That’s your job, Andrews,” Rice said. “You will find him.”

“No sir, I won’t,” Andrews said.

“Are you disobeying a direct order?” Rice asked.

“Respectfully, I will not seek or attempt to capture Rainhorse,” Andrews informed.

“Don't throw away your career, kid,” Kelsey said. “Rainhorse needs to be questioned. He can’t just disappear. He’ll get a fair shake… I promise.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Andrews remarked.

“Last chance, Andrews,” Bowman chimed in.

Andrews interlaced his fingers on the table but said nothing.

“You will leave me no choice but to end your employment with FBI.” Bowman said. “This is effective immediately.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Andrews responded. He stood, pulling his gun and badge, placing them on the desk.

“I'll have someone walk you out,” Bowman said.

“I know my way out,” Andrews replied.

“Sorry, Jim, you know the drill,” Bowman said. He pressed the intercom button and ninety seconds later two large security agents appeared at the door to escort him out.

Bowman looked at Rice; the Director nodded.

“Good luck, Andrews,” Rice said.

Andrews nodded and left, flanked on each side by an FBI agent. Rose Red Feather stood when she saw him.

“How’d it go?” she asked, looking at the two big escorts.

“How do you think?” he replied, pressing the down button for the elevator.

“That bad?”

“I just handed over my badge.”

“I’m sorry, Andrews.”

He nodded.

The elevator door dinged and opened.

“Good luck in there,” he said, stepping into the elevator.

 

 (Fifteen minutes later)

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Red Feather,” Bowman began.

“It wasn’t long,” Rose assured.

“I suppose you’ve come here to tell us where Rainhorse is?” Coetzee jeered, smirking.

“No, I don’t know where he is.” Rose said.

“But you are in contact with him?”

“That’s privileged information,” Rose maintained. “It’s possible to be in contact with someone and not know where he is. I do not know where he is.”

“I’m afraid we won’t have much time,” Bowman said. “What’s on your mind?”

“I thought it might be obvious,” Rose articulated. “I’m here to see that you honor your commitment to my client and drop all charges, exonerate him, and reduce his prison sentence to time served.”

Coetzee laughed out loud. Bowman tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

“Really?” Coetzee snarked. “Is that all?”

“No,” Rose replied steadfastly. “I also want his criminal records expunged and his record of exemplary military service restored.”

Director Rice, who had not been laughing or smiling, removed his reading glasses, rubbed his eyes and leaned forward.

“Ms. Red Feather, I’m afraid you’ve flown a great distance for nothing,” he reported. “Unless you have...”

Rose held her hand in the air.  Rice saw it and paused. In her hand was a thumb-drive.  She sat it on the table and pushed it. The drive slid across the table to Chief-of-Staff Kelsey.

“What is this?” Kelsey asked, picking the thumb-drive up.

“Mr. Kelsey, I am offering this information to you as a courtesy,” Rose said. “What is on the drive contains information regarding a clandestine mission the military ordered my client to execute in Afghanistan.  On that drive are documents and audio files pertaining to an operation called Wounded Falcon.”

Coetzee twisted his face into a look that combined confusion and anger, “Ms. Red Feather, are you threatening us?”

Kelsey raised his hand, paralyzing Coetzee mid-sentence, “Wait,” he said. “Ms. Red Feather please continue.”

Rose could see from the expression on Kelsey’s face he recognized the name of the operation, and the mere mention of it caused him concern.  She stood, gathered her things and prepared to leave, “This information came from my client. It’s the only copy I have and I have not opened the drive or viewed the information.  My client encrypted this thumb drive. He sent a security keycode to your office, Mr. Kelsey. It will be there by the time you get back there. Please look at it at your earliest convenience. Good day.”

Rose turned to leave.

“Wait a minute...” barked Coetzee.

“My plane leaves for Montana in ninety minutes,” she said. “By the time it lands I expect all the arrangements for the demands I have made to be executed, signed and notarized by the president.”

“Can you give me any idea what is on here?” Kelsey asked.

Rose smiled, “I do not have the encryption code and even if I did, my client was clear I not open and read the file. He wanted you and you alone to see it, Mr. Kelsey.”

She paused as Kelsey sat staring at her, contemplating his next response. Finally, he let out a deep breath and spoke.

“I’ll get back to you, Ms. Red Feather,” Kelsey replied.

Rose walked to the door and paused.

“Oh, one last thing,” Rose said. “My client wants you to drop all charges against Agent Jim Andrews, return him to active duty and place a letter of commendation in his permanent record for the job he did for you.”

“Is that something your client demanded, or something you threw in at the end on your own?” Director Rice asked.

“Have a safe trip home, Rose,” Kelsey interrupted.