Chapter 51

  Al Ali read and listened to the latest batch of e-mails and voice recordings that he had received from his moles inside the NSA and Homeland Security. After an hour, he found several interesting things, although none had great significance. That is until he read the last e-mail. He sat up straighter as he read it for a second time. Nothing in the e-mail was threatening on the surface, yet something told him that it went much more profound. He then reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the file he had on the woman, a file he had compiled over the years. He knew that she had been stationed at Xuan Loc. He just had to confirm the dates. He found what he was looking for almost immediately. The dates matched the timeframe in the e-mail. Without even asking her, he knew she was involved. It was just who she was, for he had proof of that.

  Al Ali had spent too much time and resources to place her where she was today for someone to snatch that away from him. Unlike Ali, who had something that he could use against her as blackmail, he suspected that the man who was looking for answers in an encrypted document had a much different intent. Ali wished he could take out his cell phone and talk with her, but he knew that wasn’t possible. It pained him to go through channels, yet that was something that he had to do. If what he suspected was true, the document mentioned in the e-mail would have to be recovered, and many people would need to be eliminated.

  Shawn woke up with a slight hangover and swore off alcohol again for, well, he lost count of how many times. He looked over to the other side of the bed. It was empty. He sat up and was about to hit the intercom requesting a cup of coffee when Kim walked through the bedroom door with a cup of steaming black coffee in her hand.

  "You look like shit!" Kim smirked.

  "Thanks, I feel like shit. Was I a bad boy last night?" Shawn said while holding a hand over his forehead.

  "No, you were quite good for an old man," Kim replied smartly.

  Shawn grinned and said, "I feel like an old man today. Is that coffee for me?"

  "Yes, and I brought you something that I'm sure will make your head feel better."

  "You're an angel, you know that, Kim." He took the hot coffee and downed the two tablets.

  "Yes, I know; what did you do when I wasn't here?"

  Shawn had no plans on going there.

  "Tim called twice for you this morning."

  "Did you talk with him?"

  "The second time I did. He said he thinks he found one of the men you were looking for. He wants you to call him."

  "Did he say which one?"

  "No, just that he wants you to call him."

  "Do you have my cell phone?"

  "No, but I have mine," Kim handed him her new smartphone.

  "When did you get this one?" Shawn said, looking at the brand-new iPhone.

  "Recently, my old one is in a lot of small pieces."

  "How did that happen?" Shawn asked skeptically.

  Kim smiled and said, "It came in contact with a wall while it was traveling at a very high rate of speed."

  Shawn raised his eyebrows and decided he wasn't going there either.

  "Shit, I can't remember his number; it's on my phone. I'll call him after I get out of the shower and have more coffee and breakfast."

  After his shower, Shawn entered the kitchen. He looked and felt much better. He placed his coffee cup on the grid of the Cuisinart coffee maker, pressed the dispensing bar, and filled his cup almost to the rim. Kasem had his breakfast already prepared and waiting for him with a warmer placed over it and a copy of the Phuket Gazette next to it.

  Shawn looked around and asked, “Where’s Kim.”

  “Where do you think? She went to the club three hours late. You know, without her, you’d be in the poor house, and I’d be out of a job. Oh…by the way, you missed your appointment with Chong this morning. He told me to tell you you’re the best customer he has. He can sit around and drink tea and get paid for it without breaking a sweat.”

  “Next time he comes over here, I’m going to kick his ass up to his elbows.”

  “Sure you are. Just keep telling yourself that.” Kasem said smugly.

  After Shawn finished breakfast and read the paper, he picked up his phone and called Tim Choi. Tim identified the caller and answered on the third ring.

  “Shawn, I think David found Colonel Bennett. He’s now a retired General living in Oceanside, California.”

  “Did he positively verify that it was him?” Shawn asked.

  “Not exactly; David tells me the man is very guarded. He wants to meet with him in person before he discusses anything. David also wants to know if he can use your name, which I haven’t given him yet.”

  Shawn didn’t say anything for a moment. He knew Bennett to be a very cautious person.

  “I guess I can’t see any reason…..no, let’s see if we have the right Bennett first.”

  The two spoke for several more minutes, and then Tim had another call, so they cut their conversation short. “Thanks for all your help, Tim, and let me know how the meeting went.”

  “I’ll keep in touch.”

  *****

  It was another day in the mid-sixties in the beautiful Southern California sunshine. Bennett was sitting on his balcony reading a report and waiting for the hot babe to walk by with her cute doggy when he noticed a white van parked down the street, which he had never seen before. Even though he lived in a gated community, he was concerned because the gate security guards were paid minimum wage and only sometimes that alert. He could make out some lettering on the side door, but the angle and distance made it hard to read. He went back inside, grabbed his Nikon binoculars, and headed back out to the balcony. He sat back down and looked down the street. The van was gone.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Then something else caught his eye. A man who appeared to be in his middle twenties was jogging on the walking path across the street and was heading in his direction. He had never seen the man before, and his instincts kicked in. He brought the binoculars up and put them on the man. As soon as he did, the jogger put his face to the ground and dropped down to tie his shoe. Bennett instantly knew that it was not just a coincidence. The man must have been watching him. The next thing he did was raise the hair all over his body. Without looking back up, the jogger pivoted 180 degrees, flipped up the hood on his jogging suit, and started back in the opposite direction. The man was Caucasian with light brown hair and had hard facial features. Despite his jogging suit, Bennett could tell the man was very fit. He watched as he angled across the street and then disappeared when he went around the street corner.

  Eighty-six hundred miles away, another man was watching Tim Choi’s office building with more than just casual interest.

  Bennett was startled when he heard a female voice say in a very perky voice.

  "Hello, General. Are you bird watching, or are you peering at attractive young ladies?"

  Bennett was rarely at a loss for words, but this was one of those times. He looked down from his balcony at the gorgeous widower on the sidewalk below. She was wearing her skimpy bikini with her little white poodle adorned with pretty pink ribbons at her side. She slowly bent down to pet her little mutt. He wondered if she really intended to pet the rug rat or if she was displaying her assets for Bennett to admire.

  "I thought I saw someone I knew on the golf course. Nothing more sinister than that, my dear," was Bennett's lame excuse.

  The woman put on a pouty face and said, "Oh, I see. And was the person someone you knew?"

  "No, actually, he wasn't."

  "Well, it was nice chatting with you, General; maybe you could join me on a walk someday."

  The General was taken aback by her invitation and almost at a loss for words again. Was this lovely woman hitting on him? After the initial shock of her question passed, Bennett finally found his tongue and answered.

  "Yes, I would love to do that, or we could sit on my balcony and have a few beers sometime?"

  "I would like that very much. Although I'm not much of a beer drinker…but I do like wine."

  "Wine it is, then."

  "Great, just give me a call."

  "Aha….I don't believe I have your number." Bennett stuttered.

  "Yes, you do." And the hot babe threw him a tennis ball that she had been carrying in her hand. The throw was perfect, and he caught it chest-high with one hand."

  She smiled and said, "Nice catch, General; call me."

  Then she started to walk down the sidewalk with her little poodle in tow. Bennett stood and watched her as she walked away. Her nice ass seemed to sway just a little more than usual. She looked back to see if he was watching. She wasn't disappointed. She gave him a little wave and turned away again, very satisfied with her performance.

  When she was out of sight, Bennett looked at the tennis ball. It had a yellow ribbon around it with a piece of paper attached. He pulled off the ribbon and read the note. It contained her name and phone number written on pink paper with little red hearts all over it. Then, the scent of an intoxicating perfume drifted into his nose, and at that point, he knew that he was doomed.

  All Bennett could say was, "You old bastard, what have you gotten yourself into."

  Despite his thoughts of himself and Miss Hottie under the same sheets together, Bennett’s focus quickly turned back to the jogger and the white van. He put the note on his kitchen counter and picked up his phone. He opened a cupboard door and found the number he was looking for from a list of numbers on a printed sheet.

  The phone was answered immediately. “Security, Jose speaking.”

  “Jose, this is General Bennett. What can you tell me about a white van that came in today with some lettering on the driver’s door?”

  “Hello, General; the van just left a few minutes ago. They were here to do some work at a townhouse just down your street. Why is there a problem?”

  “What company and what kind of work?”

  “Just a sec, I’ll check the sheet.” After a few seconds, Jose came back.

  “The sheet lists their company as “The Sound Center.” They were here to install some stereo equipment at 5400.”

  “Did this check out with the owner?”

  There was a long pause; “He did have a work order with that address, sir.”

  Bennett knew he didn’t make the call and just let the van through.

  “Was the driver alone, and what did he look like.”

  “The driver was alone, but I couldn’t see in the back. He wasn’t Latino. He was somewhat dark, like he was from one of those countries where we get all of our oil from...or something like that.”

  “Did he have an accent?”

  “General, to me, everyone has an accent, but he did speak good English if that’s what you mean. Is something wrong, sir?”

  “No, I’m sure it’s fine. Do you have a phone number or address for this Sound Center?”

  After another long pause, Jose said, “Sorry, General, I don’t have that information.”

  “Thanks for all your help, Jose. If the van comes in again, please let me know right away.”

  “I will make a note of it, sir.”

  Bennett didn’t have a good feeling about the van or the jogger, so he decided to check out the townhouse at 5400. Something just didn’t feel right about his conversation with David, especially when it led to the White House. He had been in the clandestine service business long enough to know that someone might have been listening to his conversation and reading his e-mail correspondence with David or whoever the hell he was.

  *****

  Bennett didn't know the owners of the Townhouse at 5400. He knocked on the door and it was soon answered by an elderly gentleman who he had seen many times walking on the sidewalk with his wife. The man was about the same age as Bennett and appeared to be in great shape. He was groomed perfectly; not a hair was out of place, and his gray mustache looked like it had just been trimmed. He was dressed in designer clothes and smelled of Old Spice aftershave. The man recognized Bennett immediately as one of his neighbors and said, "Hello… how can I help you, sir?" the man said with genuine enthusiasm in his voice.

  "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you; my name is Paul Bennett. I live just down the street." Bennett pointed in the direction of his Townhouse.

  "Can you tell me if you hired a company to do some work for you today?

  I believe the company's name was "The Sound Center."

  The man looked at Bennett curiously and said, "No, we had no such company doing work for us today or any other day. However, I did see a van with that name on the door across the street just a while ago. Perhaps one of our neighbors had some work done."

  A friendly voice came from somewhere in the house, "Who is it, dear…do you want me to come down."

  The elderly man answered his wife, "No darling, one of our neighbors just has a question, that's all."

  "Well say hello for me, and I'll just keep painting then."

  "I will do that, sugar."

  He turned to Bennett and said, "She keeps busy painting and selling her art. She gives all the proceeds to charity. I married a saint, and her art is quite good. By the way, my name is Charles Whitmore, and the not yet canonized saint upstairs is Claire. We've been married for fifty years." Charles stuck out his hand, and Bennett did likewise.

  "Charles, did you see anyone get out of the van?

  "Come to think of it, I didn't. Although I did see the van leave, I saw a young man in a jogging suit standing alongside the curb when it pulled away from the curb. Then he started to walk in the direction of your place. Why is something wrong? Do you think they were up to no good?" Charles said with a bit of concern in his voice.

  "No, I don't think so. Someone probably got their address mixed up. Thanks for all your help, Mr. Whitmore; "I appreciate it very much."

  "No problem, I was happy to help. Stop by any time. I'm sure the little woman would love to meet you and show you some of her work."

  The two men shook hands again, and Bennett said he would like to meet Claire sometime and promised to visit again soon. Outside, Bennett didn't like what he had just heard and decided to make a call on a secure line.

  As he walked back to his townhouse, a pair of dark eyes were watching his every move with great interest from the golf course across the street.