Perfect killer

CHAPTER 87

With an earsplitting whine, the jet leapt from the short runway and pressed me back into my seat. Beyond my window, the earth fell away and the green patchwork of trees and crops shrank to model-railroad scales. I followed this and said a prayer of thanksgiving for outrunning the hellhound again.

The man in the red polo shirt and khaki pants whom Barner had introduced as Brigadier General Jack Kilgore stood up and faced us a the engines throttled back and leveled us off above a scattering of cumulus.

"Sorry about the slingshot takeoff," Kilgore said. He had a John Wayne voice straight from Flying Leathernecks. "We needed an aircraft with enough range to fly here nonstop, and they tend to be bigger than what that small airfield usually accommodates." He rested his arms on the seat backs in front of him for balance.

"As my friend Buddy Barner told you, I'm Jack Kilgore and I command Task

Force 86M."

"I've heard of you," I said.

Kilgore smiled. And I've heard of you too, compadre."

Jasmine gave me an intense look.

"Sorry for interrupting."

"Not an issue." He cleared his throat. "You are probably wondering how in hell you ended up here."

We all nodded.

"But, before I start, would anybody like something to eat?" We all nodded eagerly. "Thought so," he said as he made his way to a storage locker aft of the cockpit, pulled out a stack of white cardboard boxes, and passed them around." I am proud to say our snacks do beat Southwest's… but that's not saying much."

I couldn't suppress my smile as I recalled the tiny bags of kibble I had eaten on my trip from L.A. Kilgore took a lunch box, set it on the seat, and took a sip from a plastic container of Odwalla juice before beginning.

"This whole situation started a few days ago when I got a Mayday call from the first commanding officer of 86M. I served with him and under him."

He took another sip of the juice as he let this sink in. I plowed into my own lunch.

"You've undoubtedly read about my friend Lieutenant General Dan Gabriel."

"Whoa!" Tyrone said. "Braxton's secretary of defense?"

"One and the same," Kilgore said, "Over a giant pile of steam-table egg foo yung, he told me a tale about a closetful of snakes in General Braxton's head."

"I think we know a little about that," I said, nodding to the microfilm bag.

"Affirmative," Kilgore said. "But hold on for a moment and let me tell you Dan's story, then you can fill me in on yours. Together, we might get a better picture of the elephant."

We polished off our lunches as Kilgore related his meeting with Gabriel, their subsequent conversations, Gabriel's last phone conversation regarding Frank Harper, and the significance of the last GPS location of Gabriel's phone before it was turned off.

Kilgore polished off his second bottle of juice and nodded at me. "Your turn."

With help from Tyrone and Jasmine and not a word at all from Rex, I told Kilgore about my mother's funeral and finished with the raid on the VA hospital and the close call with the high-voltage electrical wires.

"Incredible." Kilgore shook his head. He looked at Tyrone. "I hate to tell you this, but you didn't kill David Brown."

"But how-"

Kilgore smiled. "The arrogant, chain-smoking bastard had a coronary. The Marlboro Man killed him." He paused. "I only hope that stinking hemorrhoid was conscious until he hit the ground." He looked around for agreement and found it unanimous.

"Good," Kilgore said. "This is the situation. First we stop the deployment of this Xantaeus, then we rescue Dan Gabriel." He paused. "Not necessarily in that order, because I think Dan knows how to deal with the General and the patch.

"A couple of our former guys work Braxton's security detail." Kilgore continued. "That's not unusual, given the quality of our personnel. Anyway, one of the guys called me from a pay phone in Napa last night and told me he heard Gabriel and Harper are being held at Castello Da Vinci, the General's Napa Valley estate. Rumor says an accident's being arranged for Dan and the doctor. That's what bothered him and why he called."

The small jet hit an air pocket, first lifting us up, then dropping us into a hole. Kilgore casually fended his tall frame off the ceiling with one hand.

"So," he said when the aircraft had regained its equilibrium, "I think we get Dan first because he's got the stuff in his head which will let us take down Braxton and this Xantaeus thing."

Kilgore raised his eyebrows as he looked from person to person. "What do you mean we, white man," Rex finally spoke up.

"Damn good question… Tonto." Kilgore cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his tone rang dissonant and discomforted.

"This is a rogue operation. If we don't succeed, it's a lifetime in a crappy military prison for me and my second-in-command, Bill Lewis, who'll be meeting us in Napa. Bill and I know it, we accept it, but we cannot-will not — put the personnel under our command at risk.

"And we can't send a request through military channels or even civilian police because it would take too long. Gabriel would be dead by the time we got a response. And Braxton has loyalists up and down both chains of command."

"Are you asking us to go in and rescue your friend?" I asked.

Kilgore shook his head. "Bill and I are committed, but I won't ask you to follow us. That's not why you're here. We came after you because Bill and I are convinced you were framed, and your lives are in danger."

"So we owe you?" Rex asked.

"Wrong, Tonto."

"It's Rex, if you don't mind."

"Whatever," Kilgore said. "Getting the CD from Shanker, rescuing Talmadge, and locating the microfilm outweighs any pathetic effort I've made so far. You don't owe me a thing… Rex."

"Well, its pretty clear without Braxton put away for good, we're marked for the rest of what will probably be very short lives," I said. Jasmine's eyes encouraged me to continue. "For my part, I'd say the only way out of this mess we're in leads right through Castello Da Vinci."

"We could go to the press," Tyrone offered, "but even with everything we have, who'll believe us? Braxton's hugely popular."

"Even if they believed us, would they believe in time?" Jasmine added. "I'm with Brad." She gave me a look that connected to my soul.

"Jasmine's right," Kilgore agreed. He remained silent long enough for reality to sink in.

"Right," Rex said reluctantly, and looked at me. "I'm in, but only because I promised ya'mama I'd take good care of you."

Given my background, his comments drew laughter from everybody but him. Anita looked at him with a combination of fear and pride. She nodded at him.

"I appreciate your sentiment," Kilgore said "But I want you to think about it for the rest of the flight. This has to be a clear and unequivocal decision. We have very limited resources and severe consequences for failure. I'll describe the situation; if you change your mind, I'll understand. Genuine decisions always keep consequences clearly and constantly in mind."