A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7) Read online

  “But what do I say to him?” Bart asked.

  “Say this,” Banyon outlined his plan for the conversion.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The surveillance team left with their plan solidly worked out. They had just cleared the door when Banyon glanced at his Movado watch and noted it was just 9:30 A.M. in the morning. He asked Wolf if anything was new and found that nothing had happened since his last update.

  He grabbed his phone and had just pushed the button to connect him to the President when, as expected, Heather strutted into his office like she owned it. She assumed a sexy pose and looked at Banyon with smoldering eyes. He quickly pointed to Eric while indicating he was on the phone. She then pointed her slender toned arm at Eric, asking if he was to interview her. Banyon nodded his head in agreement. Eric quickly pointed to himself joyfully. Banyon immediately realized Eric knew her previous profession too. He was sure Eric had seen her before, with fewer clothes adoring her body.

  Today, she was dressed like a ninja. She had on black stretch pants, a black long-sleeve turtle-neck sweater, and black running shoes. She wore no jewelry and no makeup. Not that Eric noticed anyway. Her hair was pulled back severely in a ponytail. With three strides of her long legs, she reached the now standing Eric. They shook hands firmly and she took a seat across from him, sitting more like a man then a sex goddess. Eric started asking her questions.

  “Hello,” Banyon suddenly heard from his phone. He leaned back in his chair so he wouldn’t be distracted.

  “Mr. President, this is Colton Banyon,” he spoke into the phone.

  “What have you got to report?” The President tersely asked.

  “The surveillance team and Bart, dressed as Slezeck, are heading for the rendezvous with Werner Klotz,” Banyon filled him in on the plan.

  “Finally, some action,” The President declared.

  “How did you do on your end?” Banyon asked.

  “Pretty well, I think,” the President replied. “I sent Kevin Davis back to Slezeck without the signed receipt. I told him to tell Slezeck I will sign the order when we meet later today at the White House.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure he will show for your meeting at two o’clock,” Banyon said to the President.

  “Colt, I now see the additional sentences on the receipt. I have it right here in front of me. I had already signed my first name when you called, so the chemicals were activated. I can’t believe Slezeck attempted to blackmail me. Thanks, you saved me from probable impeachment. Slezeck has got to go.”

  “I’m glad I was able to stop you in time,” Banyon said humbly.

  “Yes, it could have been worse,” the President added. He was thinking about the implications of a blackmail attempt on a President.

  “Did you find a way to get him to leave his office?” Banyon’s plan required that Slezeck not have an alibi for the next four hours.

  “Yes, I did,” the President laughed. It was the first time today. “I sent a verbal message back with Kevin as we discussed. The message told Slezeck he needed to confront Marlene privately and get her to admit to something before I could publically announce she was part of a conspiracy. I also indicated the sooner the better. I told him he needed to confront her before our meeting this afternoon.”

  “Good,” Banyon replied. “That will put enough pressure on him to react.”

  “Then I called Marlene and filled her in. He has no idea what a women scorned is like. But he is about to find out. ”

  “Where are they meeting?”

  “Marlene sent him a message that she had some information to share with Homeland Security about the bombing earlier today. She requested he meet her privately, without bodyguards, in downtown Baltimore, on her yacht. It’s about a three hour round trip to the location.”

  “He has someone following her you know. Are you sure she can handle Slezeck?”

  “I sent three Secret Service men over to help. They are going to arrest the follower and tie him up with legalese so he misses the meeting. They are also going to record their conversation. He thinks he has a green light to trap her, when actually; she has a green light to trap him. Very Machiavellian of you Mr. Banyon.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Let’s hope the rest of your plan goes as well,” the President said.

  “How did your meeting with the warmongers go?” Banyon asked.

  “We put the retaliation meeting off until the Mexican President gives his speech later this afternoon. But The State Department is issuing a warning for all U.S. citizens to avoid Mexico until further notice. They are also tracking down any Americans in Mexico and directing them to our embassy or out of the country. In addition, we are calling in everybody from the Border Patrol. We are also sneaking special ops personal to the major crossing points, just in case.”

  “It’s the best you could have done under the circumstances,” Banyon remarked.

  Hopefully, I’ll be able to give the Mexican President some answers before then and this crisis will be over. But I have to tell you Colt, the timing is very critical.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Banyon agreed.

  “What is your next step?” the President suddenly asked.

  “If everybody does their job, we should have the information on the next disaster and the confession of Klotz by one o’clock your time. Your meeting with Slezeck is at two o’clock and you should be able to call the Mexican President before three o’clock. This should all be over by four o’clock,” Banyon gave him the timeline.

  “And what about the hit team after you?” The President inquired. “I could send you some SEALs to take them out for you.”

  “There are too many people around here. Some will surely get hurt. I’m going to lead them around by their noses. We’ll take them down when no one else is around.”

  “Let me know if you need anything,” the President said sincerely.

  “Thank you, sir,” Banyon replied for the umpteenth time today. The connection was broken.

  Banyon took a big breath, sighed and leaned back in his chair. The one thing he hadn’t been able to figure out was what and where would be Werner Klotz’s final disaster. He hoped Bart could pull it from him, but Klotz was no fool and might not reveal what he had planned, even to his comrade.

  Banyon was just about to talk to Wolf and beg for a tip when he sensed movement in the back of his office. He looked around his monitor once again and saw Heather stand up. Eric likewise stood and they shook hands. She turned and headed for the door, waving at Banyon as she left.

  Banyon spread his arms asking Eric what happened. Eric shrugged and said, “She has another appointment.”

  At that second, a man came through the door. He looked like a reincarnation of James Cagney. He wore a dark suit and very shiny shoes. “I’m here for the what-you-call-it interview,” he announced in Brooklynese. Eric quickly called him over. Banyon tried to not listen, but within seconds heard the man say, “forget-about-it.”

  Suddenly, Timmy came dancing through the door. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it,” he sang as he rock ‘n rolled his way up to Banyon.

  “Didn’t do what?” Banyon asked the geek.

  “Man, it was so cool. I took your advice and didn’t even look.”

  “What are you talking about Timmy?”

  “Heather, the witch-bitch, of course,” Timmy replied like Banyon should know. “I didn’t even look at her as she passed me in the hallway just now. I taught her good, man. I got her goat this time. It feels good too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah man. I didn’t even notice her skin-tight black outfit with only the black tong underneath. I’m going to make her pay for how she has treated me.”

  Banyon moaned softly. Poor Timmy, he thought. “Timmy, why are you here?”

  “Oh, yea…I found something I think will help.”

  Quickly sitting up at attention, Banyon asked, “What?”

  “We
ll, you know how you asked me to sift through that asshole Klotz’s stuff?” He paused.

  “What did you find?” Banyon asked anxiously.

  “I found an invoice for twelve machine guns, man.”

  “Guns?”

  “Yeah, I thought it was a little strange that an anti-gun activist would be buying guns.”

  “And?” Banyon jumped in.

  “The guns were delivered last week to a house in San Diego California. I got the address and crossed checked it with several government databases. The house belongs to a black, San Diego drug gang.”

  “There is more, I hope,” Banyon thought Timmy was on to something.

  “There is. I checked his phone records and found he made several calls to the San Diego area, just before the delivery. So, I decided to access the NSA phone banks. They routinely record most phone calls you know, and then run them through some software, looking for key words that terrorists might use.”

  “Okay,” Banyon said as he hoped Timmy would finally get to the point.

  “I found the actual phone conversations,” Timmy exclaimed. “I am the world’s best hacker,” he proclaimed as he spread his arms in self-adoration.

  Suddenly excited, Banyon asked, “Can you give me the gist of the conversations? Why did he send guns to black gangbangers?”

  “They are planning something that will happen at eleven o’clock pacific time. That is one o’clock our time and two o’clock eastern time.

  “So, what are they planning?”

  “That I don’t know for sure,” Timmy admitted. “But it will involve lots of lead,” Timmy said as he pointed his hands like a machine gun and made believe he was peppering the room with bullets.

  Realizing he now could ask Wolf about the gangbangers plan, Banyon said, “Good job, Timmy. Now I want you to go back and do the same thing for Paul Slezeck. Particularly, I want you to tie down a conspiracy between Slezeck and Klotz. Can you do that?”

  “I’m on it,” he replied and danced out the door.

  Banyon glanced at Eric and noticed that the Cagney lookalike was pretending to strangle someone. Eric didn’t look amused.

  “Wolf, are you there?” Banyon whispered behind his monitor.

  “I’m here,” the spirit replied.

  “What are the black gangbangers up to?”

  “I have just finished the search myself. Timmy is very good,” he said. “Their plan is to spread themselves along the highway I-5 just before the border station. Since, the border is now very backed up; there will be hundreds of cars waiting for their turn to cross over. They will all be Latinos. The gangbangers intend to strafe as many cars as possible in one minute, and then disappear. Colt, hundreds will die.”

  “But why would they do that?” Banyon asked.

  “They will then make an anonymous phone call to a local radio station and proclaim they are loyal Americans who are sick and tired of wetbacks steeling their jobs.”

  “My God, this could start a war,” Banyon said. “Is there time to stop them?”

  “They plan to be at the house for one more hour,” Wolf told Banyon.

  “I need to call the President,” Banyon said as he reached for his phone. “Then I need to call Bart as well.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Harry Gold burst into his hotel room in the Mexican tourist town of Acapulco, Mexico. His wife was already inside. She was frantically packing their clothes. They had received a phone call from the U.S. State Department twenty minutes ago. The message was simple and clear — get out of Mexico now.

  They had traveled to the famous beach resort town three days ago, for a one week vacation, from the land locked city of Rapid City, South Dakota. Their vacation had been perfect right up until they had gotten the phone call.

  “They’re gone,” he screamed at his wife. She had sent him down to the pool area to collect their two daughters. They were both in their late teens and wanted to get some early morning sun. Harry suspected what they really wanted to do was flirt with the several charming and handsome pool boys, but he let them go out in their small bikinis anyway.

  “What do you mean by gone?” she screamed back as she turned to look at him.

  “One of the pool boys told me several policemen came into the pool area and announced that every white American needed to be searched. They had on bikinis for god sakes,” he lamented.

  “Oh, God, no, not my girls” wailed his wife Mable as she put her hand to her mouth in horror.

  But Harry wasn’t done. “I found the place where they were doing the searches and an older man and wife told me they saw two handcuffed girls forced into a police cruiser. The police on the spot denied there were any other policemen stationed at the hotel.”

  “Harry, someone has kidnapped our beautiful daughters,” Mable cried out. “What should we do?” Mable collapsed onto the bed and started sobbing loudly.

  “I’m going to call the American embassy right now,” he replied as the fear of losing his daughters, gripped his heart.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Are you sure this is the last of the planned disasters?” The President questioned Banyon.

  “Yes, sir,” Banyon replied.

  “That address for the house is less than ten miles from the SEAL base,” The former Californian told Banyon. “Maybe, we got some luck for a change.”

  “We only have an hour to stop them. Otherwise, we will have to seek them out along the highway,” Banyon said.

  “Okay, no matter what, these boys need to be stopped. I’ll have boots at the site in one half hour. I’ll head for the situation room right now to get things going. I want you hooked up to the situation room in twenty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll be there,” Banyon replied. The line went dead

  Banyon quickly pressed his Bluetooth. “Timmy, I need you to hookup me up with the White House situation room, just like you did yesterday. I need it done in exactly twenty-five minutes.”

  “Got you covered, dude,” Timmy answered.

  Banyon then hit the speed dial on his phone for Bart. He answered in three rings. “Yes, Colt,” he professionally said.

  “Bart, the final disaster is going down today. Several gangbangers in California are going to strafe cars on the freeway. Then call a radio station and say they are fed up with losing their jobs to Mexicans.”

  “So, I can use it to incriminate Klotz?” Bart asked.

  “He arranged it and even bought the machine guns. We have the proof,” Banyon responded.

  “Well, let’s see what else we can get him to admit to,” Bart offered. “He’s due here within an hour. We’ll be ready. I’ll tell the others.”

  “Good luck,” Banyon told him and hung up.

  When Banyon looked around his monitor this time, James Cagney had been replaced by a Hispanic man in a gardening outfit. When Eric casually turned his head towards him, he noticed Banyon was slicing his hand across his own throat. Eric gave a slight nod of his head in acknowledgement. He wrapped up the interview in just a few minutes and the disappointed gardener left. Eric then walked over to Banyon’s desk.

  “How’s it going?” Banyon asked.

  “We definitely have some good choices so far, but I have two more interviews yet before I have to make any decisions. One is coming in five minutes.”

  “Well, brace yourself Eric. We are about to get some company,” Banyon said with a little humor in his voice.

  “How do you know that?” Eric asked.

  “Because we just landed another mission from the President, that means we have to hire a contract employee,” Banyon replied. “The internal communications gossip network here is instantaneous.”

  Within seconds, Heather came running through the office door and Mandy zipped in from the balcony, pulling down her skirt. They both shouted at the same time. “I’m your contract employee for this mission.”

  “Sorry girls,” Banyon told them as several more people crowded into his office, all heading for his desk
. “This mission is a top secret takedown, not worth much in terms of money. Besides, I have to appoint the person who uncovered the data that led us to the takedown. It is only fair.”

  Banyon quickly pressed his Bluetooth and said. “Timmy, I need you in my office in exactly thirty minutes. You are the contract employee for this mission even though you blabbed it to everyone in the organization.”

  “You are righteous man,” Timmy responded. “I’ll be there.”

  Banyon then addressed the rest of the people in his office. “I want you all to make money, believe me. If you can bring me things to find and solve, I will always cut you in. You will be the contract employee for the mystery. Is that clear to everybody?”

  Reluctantly, they all nodded in agreement. “But how will we know when it is our time?” A man that looked like a linebacker for a football team asked the question. He had no neck.

  Banyon thought for a second and then turned to Mandy. “She,” he pointed, “will keep a log. Any of you that want to participate must have her put your name on the list. We will go in rotation. Mandy will always be able to tell you when your chance is coming up.” He then winked at Mandy.

  “First come, first serve,” she quickly said, winked back at Banyon and headed for the balcony while hiking up her skirt to leap over the railing. The mass of people in Banyon’s office suddenly dissipated as they all rushed out the door to get their name on the list.

  “This is not like any office I have ever seen,” offered Eric. “It would be fun to work here.”

  “You have to know the law and also have a special talent, Eric. What’s yours?”

  “I know you,” Eric replied with a grin.

  “Touché,” Banyon responded.

  “We should be ready to go to Las Vegas before the lunchtime deadline. Will Bart be back in time?” Eric asked.

  “So far, we are still on plan,” Banyon replied. “But make sure our bodyguards know we will be traveling very soon.”