A Dubious Position (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 7) Page 15

  “You said you wanted to share some information,” he began. “I came here to share as well,” he lied.

  “Alright,” she replied with a nod of her head. “I’ll tell you what I have first,” a suddenly all-business Marlene stated.

  “Please do,” Slezeck responded as he tensed up.

  She took deep breath which caused her abundant chest to rise. It was quickly noticed by Slezeck. “I got a call earlier today from my counterpart in Mexico,” she said. “They have captured the man who set off the explosion in Laredo.”

  “What?” Slezeck questioned. The explosion had occurred only two hours ago.

  “I called you immediately because there are some strange circumstances surrounding the explosion.”

  “Like what?”

  “As they were interrogating him, he brought up the name of someone we both know,” she easily lied.

  “Who?” Slezeck said as a lump formed in his throat.

  “Walter Klotz. Both you and I know him. The man said that Walter Klotz masterminded the disaster and paid him. What do you think of that?” Marlene then sat back and studied his face.

  “I really don’t know what to think,” Slezeck accurately replied. “But I’ll have to verify this information of course,” he added.

  “Well, call him yourself,” Marlene responded. “Oh, wait, as of an hour ago, all communications with the Mexican government have been cut off. You’ll have to verify my information later.”

  Not believing her, he whipped out his cellphone, hitting the speed dial. He soon got a voicemail which said no American calls would be taken by Mexican Federal employees. Undaunted, he dialed a second number and got the same message. “It seems you are right,” he agreed. He had not anticipated this in his planning.

  “I’m giving you this information because Werner Klotz’s activities fall under your jurisdiction of domestic terrorism. You need to arrest him,” Marlene made it sound like she was doing him a favor.

  “Or maybe your information is not too solid and you’d rather risk my neck then yours,” he quickly replied. “Werner Klotz is a respected lobbyist. He has powerful friends who will come to his aid,” Slezeck warned her.

  “Oh don’t worry about that. Klotz is our man alright,” Marlene said dismissively. “The President has a guy who seems to be able to figure things out and he is always right,” Marlene set the stage. “He has hard evidence, I’m told. You might have heard of him. He is the one who helped recover the Presidents granddaughter.”

  “Colton Banyon,” Slezeck blurted out. Banyon’s ability to find things was why Slezeck wanted him dead before he could uncover the Effort plot.

  “Yes, I didn’t know you knew about him. It is a very ‘need to know’ about his abilities,” Marlene offered.

  Considering Colton Banyon only had a few more hours to live before the Mexican hit team silenced him forever, Slezeck admitted he knew of Banyon, but the President had never introduced him. “I have run across his name in reviewing some of Homeland Securities most recent cases,” he admitted. “I need to interview him and collect the evidence before I can arrest Klotz. Banyon works out of Chicago, right?”

  Marlene smiled. Slezeck had finally given her the means to set Banyon’s plan in motion. “Actually, he is headed to his home in Las Vegas, on a noon plane. Lucky guy. The President just told me on his last call. He said he had something for Banyon to do there. I understand he is collecting his whole team as well. Why do you ask?”

  Stunned by the news, Slezeck didn’t respond to the question but said, “Marlene can we take a short break. I am in need of a restroom. It’s a long drive up here.” He was a puppet in her hands and said exactly what she expected.

  “Of course,” she sweetly replied. “It’s the third door on the right,” she used her finger to point the way. He quickly got up and almost ran to the bathroom. He knew Werner Klotz would be meeting with the hit men in less than a half hour. They needed to know where Banyon was going.

  When he finished locking the door, Slezeck again whipped out his cellphone. He hit the number for Werner Klotz. But what he didn’t know was two things. First, was that Marlene was video recording his trip to the bathroom, secondly, Timmy had blocked Klotz’s number. The phone went straight to voice mail.

  “Werner, this is Paul,” he said in frustration to the voicemail box when he couldn’t get him on the phone. “Banyon is not in Chicago. He is headed to Las Vegas, to his home there. Make sure our Mexican friends know. Also, the President is on to you, so don’t come back to your office in Washington, head to your place in Wisconsin. You need to erase this message as soon as you get it.”

  Slezeck then quickly dialed his man who was following Klotz, but couldn’t connect with him either. Since, the man was not only a regular Homeland Security employee, but also an Effort member, Slezeck spoke openly. “As soon as Klotz gives directions to the Mexicans, I want you to take him out.” He closed his phone, composed himself, and returned smiling, to the lounge area. He was satisfied he had averted certain disaster.

  “Now, where were we?” he confidently said as he returned to his seat.

  “Well,” Marlene continued. “We have more evidence on Klotz,” she baited Slezeck.

  “There is more?” the stupefied Slezeck croaked.

  “The President just called me before you got here,” she paused to watch the horror form on his face. “He said Werner has been linked to a group of gangbangers in San Diego and a plot designed to machine gun cars at the Mexican border.”

  “What?” Slezeck was suddenly sick to his stomach. He now expected the worst.

  “Luckily, they were neutralized before they could cause any problem,” she cheerfully told him.

  Suddenly weary, Slezeck asked Marlene. “Do we know where Klotz is right now?”

  “We haven’t found him yet,” she responded. “But it is only a matter of time before we run him down. Then you can arrest him.”

  Quickly standing, Slezeck said. “Well, I’d better get on this.” He stretched out his hand and shook hers. He left the ship in a jog.

  As soon as the man was halfway down the dock, Marlene picked up the phone, calling the President. When he answered she only said five words, but they explained everything.

  “He is good to go.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  About a half hour earlier, Sister Teresa along with Father Grey were canvasing the Ajax car rental parking lot. They appeared like two clergy, wandering around the lot, looking for their car. They spied the watcher almost immediately. He had arrived earlier than Klotz, only because he had taken a commercial flight from Washington, while Klotz went by private plane. He knew where Klotz was going and when he would arrive.

  The two fake clergy wandered over to where the man stood smoking a cigarette against the back fence of the lot. He did not react as they drew near.

  “Please sir,” Sister Teresa said sweetly as they approached. “We can’t seem to find our car.” An angelic smile covered her face keeping him off guard.

  Father Grey quickly pulled a sheet of paper from his inside pocket and offered it to the man, to write down directions. But it was a deception. As the man’s eyes went to the paper, Father Grey pulled a sap from his pocket with his other hand and smacked the watcher hard over the head. He immediately tumbled to the ground. Sister Teresa quickly produced plastic cuffs, a blind fold, and a gag, from her sleeves. They trussed up the man in seconds, then carried him to a nearby car and deposited him in the back seat, face down.

  “You’d better take his wallet, phone and watch,” Father Grey told Sister Teresa. “We want this to look like a mugging.” She quickly gathered the materials, sticking them up her sleeves.

  “We’ll come back later to take back the bindings,” he informed her.

  “But what if he is awake?” the nun asked.

  “Well, we’ll just have to give him another bump,” the father replied cheerfully. “We can’t have him arrested. He hasn’t committed a crime as far as
we can tell.”

  Sister Teresa then hit a button on her phone and connected with Bart. “Watcher is down,” she said into the phone without greeting Bart.

  Bart was parked at the other end of the large lot. He had rented a small car and sat ready for Klotz to appear. “Good, now set up your video equipment, Klotz should be here soon.”

  As they were getting everything ready, a phone started ringing. Sister Teresa reached up her sleeve and produced the watchers phone. It was the one ringing. As she looked at the screen, she realized the call was coming from Paul Slezeck.

  Chapter Forty

  “We leave in about an hour and a half,” Banyon said to Eric. “And we need to give them time to get ready. So, who are your choices?”

  “Well, the plan calls for us to be low profile and not memorable. We need good shooters that don’t appear to be a threat. My only concern is they will be with us for a couple of days in close quarters,” Eric replied.

  “So, you’ve reached the same conclusion as I have,” Banyon stated.

  “I guess so,” he said.

  Banyon immediately pressed his Bluetooth. “Mandy and Heather get up to my office right now.”

  “May God help us around these two,” Eric said under his breath. He knew they would be incredible temptations and distractions.

  “We need to agree, Loni and the Patel sisters can never know about this mission. It is dangerous in two ways. And either way could get us killed,” Banyon remarked with little humor.

  “Amen,” Eric replied as he ran his hand through his hair. “I think I am more afraid of our women then the Mexicans,” he said jokingly.

  At just that second, Banyon’s cellphone rang. It was the President. “Hello,” Banyon spoke into the phone.

  “We’ve got the goods on Slezeck,” the President announced excitedly. “Marlene has sent me the spy videos. He clearly implicates himself and Klotz. She is on her way back to the capital with the original tapes.”

  “Where is Slezeck now?” Banyon asked as he noticed the two women enter his office from different entrances. They skidded to a stop in front of his desk and stood at attention. They were still dressed in the same clothes as earlier. Banyon stuck up his finger, indicating he needed a minute while talking to the President. Eric got the message and waved them over to the couch area.

  Meanwhile, the President kept talking. “Marlene had one of her watchers put a bug on his car. He is headed back to his office as we speak. I’ll be ready for him when he comes for his meeting,” the President said with determination.

  “Good,” Banyon offered.

  “How goes it there?”

  “We are still waiting for Klotz at the parking lot,” Banyon said. “It should go down at any time.”

  “Then, we start damage control,” the politician announced.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Paul Slezeck was speeding down the highway which separated Baltimore and Washington D.C. He had tried to call Klotz several more times, only getting voicemail. He had the same bad luck with his watcher. His frustration level was high. His face was beet red. He had an overwhelming feeling that he was in a trap. The noose was tightening. He was also angry about how Marlene had treated him. True, she was a clever woman, but something didn’t feel right about their meeting. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

  He knew his phone was completely encrypted with the most advanced technology. He was sure his calls could not be intercepted or understood. But he failed to understand Timmy. He had broken the encrypted code earlier when he blocked the calls to Klotz. Any calls he made were routed through an NSA listening center and everything was reported directly to the White House.

  Slezeck suddenly wondered if his plan to have the President sign the executive order was in jeopardy. He was just a few hours away from success. He couldn’t allow himself to fail to reach his goal. He had counted on the last disaster to put the President over the top. He now realized he needed another disaster.

  He tried to think logically. He was in charge of the largest government agency in the world. He also had the complete backing of the Effort. He just had to figure out how to use them to get his plan back on track.

  Suddenly, it hit him. Kill Banyon now. Get him before he got on a plane. A sinister smile crossed his face. He began to feel the adrenaline flow through his body. Yes, this would put the President in just the right mood to sign the document at their meeting. The only question was how to kill him?

  He picked up his phone from the seat where he had thrown it, and dialed the number of an Effort member in Chicago.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Bart watched from his car as a bus pulled up to the rental agency. Several people got out including six, tough-looking, Mexican men. He quickly pressed a button on his phone. “They’re here. Make sure you get head shots of each one and send them on. I want full jackets on these guys before you get back to the office.”

  “Shooting them now,” Father Grey reported back.

  Bart watched as they moved around the parking lot, trying to find their car. It was in the middle of the huge lot, but Bart could see them easily. They gathered around the front of the car, smoking cigarettes, and chatting while they waited.

  Within a minute, Bart spotted a taxi making its way into the front lot of the rental agency. The taxi stopped. Werner Klotz slowly pulled himself out of the back seat. Bart watched as Klotz leaned into the front window and told the cabbie to wait. Klotz then turned and began walking to the larger lot.

  He used a cane to walk, but Bart knew the cane was also a deadly weapon. The shiny black cane had a steel tipped knife on one end and the handle contained a two shot derringer. He also carried a small slim briefcase. Bart assumed it contained the pictures of Banyon and his team. He guessed that Klotz had been nearby watching for the Mexicans to make their appearance.

  “Klotz has arrived,” he spoke into his phone.

  “We’ve got him,” the nun replied.

  Bart put the running rental car in gear and quickly caught up to Klotz before he got near the now curious Mexican men. He opened his window halfway and called out to Klotz in his Slezeck voice.

  “Werner, hold up, I need to talk to you,” he said. Klotz turned towards the car, but said nothing. “Werner it’s me, Paul,” Bart continued.

  “What are you doing here?” Klotz suddenly said in surprise as he looked towards the man impersonating Slezeck. The shiny sun and Klotz’s old eyes made him squint, preventing him from recognizing an imposter.

  “Stop, I need to talk to you for a second. It’s important, otherwise I would not have traveled this far to see you,” Bart pressed.

  “Why didn’t you just call me on my cellphone, you idiot,” Werner Klotz chuckled. But Bart now had his attention.

  “I’ve been calling you since early this morning, Werner,” Bart evenly said. “Either you can’t hear it ring, or your phone is broken. You’re the idiot,” Bart shot back. This quickly put Klotz on the defensive. He had missed many calls in the past because of his poor hearing. He quickly reached into his pocket, pulled out the cell phone and glared at his phone screen. It showed he had missed twelve calls. Timmy had salted the call signatures on his phone when Klotz was still up in the air.

  Rather than say something like I’m sorry, Werner just got mad. “So, what is so damn important that you came all the way to Chicago to tell me, anyway?”

  “It’s about the target for the Mexicans, Werner,” Bart said as he pointed to the group of Mexicans milling around like he often saw at his local plant nursery parking lot.

  “What about him?”

  “He has left Chicago and is headed for Las Vegas, his whole team too. You need to send these guys to Las Vegas.”

  “But?” Klotz started.

  Bart slipped a piece of paper out the window. Klotz grabbed it in shaky hands and read it carefully. The Mexicans were beginning to get suspicious. Twelve dark menacing eyes were now watching them. “It’s his address in Las Vegas,” Bart sa
id.

  “I’ll have to get them tickets,” Klotz mumbled. “This will take some time to arrange, Paul,” he croaked.

  “I don’t care. Make it happen, Werner,” Bart ordered him. “When you are done, I want you to immediately head back to your office in Washington. I might have more work for you today.”

  “More work?” Klotz protested. “Haven’t I done enough for the Effort already?” Bart could see that Klotz was tired and frazzled.

  “Your plan for the gangbangers in San Diego blew up,” Bart told him.

  “But I bought the guns myself,” Klotz protested. “I personal flew out there and met with the head guy two weeks ago when the guns arrived. I moved money to his account, five million to be exact. What happened?”

  “Somehow, another drug gang found out about the guns and a major war started. The gang members are all dead. The disaster never happened. I need another disaster if we want the President to sign the executive order.” Bart lied to Klotz.

  “Damn,” Klotz swore. “All that work for nothing,” he roared as he threw up his arms in disgust.

  “That’s not all, Werner. The Mexican authorities captured the man that set off the explosives remotely in Laredo.”

  “What?” Klotz yelled. “I told him to run as soon as he hit the button. He and his brother cost me a bundle.” Bart now had all the evidence he needed on Klotz.

  “Well, make this one work or else you’ll need to start watching your back,” Bart threatened. He then rolled up the window. Klotz stood in disbelief for a few seconds and then proceeded to the group of Mexicans. Bart slowly rolled past the now angry looking predators in his rental car, just as Klotz opened his briefcase and scattered the pictures of Banyon and his team across the hood of their rental car.