Running Dark

31

BANNER’S PHONE BEEPED ON HIS DESK, INDICATING THAT AN INTERNAL call from Alicia was coming through. He hit the speaker button.

“What’s up?” he said.

“Two men here to see you.” Alicia’s voice sounded strained.

Banner picked up the phone. “Are you on speaker?”

“No, I understand that the defense secretary is more important. I’ll let them know you will only be a few minutes.”

They must have been standing directly in front of her, forcing her to talk in riddles. She was giving him a chance to leave through the back door in his office that fed directly into the stairwell. Banner appreciated her quick thinking, but he wouldn’t even consider leaving.

“Do they look strange?” he asked.

“Yes. But that computer hasn’t been quite right in a long time.” Her cryptic words, coupled with the strain in her voice, told Banner that something bothered her about the visitors.

“Got it. Send them in. Just give me a chance to activate the camera.” Banner reached under his desk and hit a small button on the console’s interior portion. A short click confirmed that the camera hidden in a vase on the credenza behind him was on and recording. The feed went straight to Alicia’s and Stromeyer’s desktop computers, with an additional stop at another location where it was downloaded and stored.

The door swung open, and Alicia walked in trailing two men behind her. One was dressed in a trench coat, the front unbuttoned. The second was the rough-looking passenger in the Crown Vic that had tailed him from Stromeyer’s house. Banner felt his fingertips tingle with a little fizz of adrenaline-generated electricity. He stood but made no move to shake their hands.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you?”

The rough-looking character smirked. The other man stepped aside for him. So Rough-Looking was the leader, Banner thought.

“We’re here to talk about your security operations.”

Banner waved them to the chairs positioned opposite his desk. “Please sit down.”

The leader shook his head. “This isn’t a social call. We’re going to give you the facts of life. First”—the man held up his index finger—“we know you’re running an operation in the Gulf of Aden. An illegal operation. You’re arming your security guys in violation of international law. Second”—another finger went up—“you’re putting hundreds of lives at risk by placing that guy on a civilian cruise ship.”

Banner raised an eyebrow. He’d bet the rough-looking character wouldn’t know international law if it came up and bit him on the ass. “What’s your name?”

“Agents Tarrant and Church.”

Banner raised an eyebrow. “Agents? Of what?”

“None of your business.”

The other guy snickered.

Banner had had enough. “Listen, Agent Tarrant. I have a lot on my plate today, and a visit by two men making vague threats is not on my to-do list. Tell whoever sent you that I’m operating within international law, I’m not impressed with either of you, and get the hell out of here.” Banner moved toward his office door. Church stepped into his path. Banner stood his ground, which resulted in his getting a potent whiff of stale cigarettes and bad patchouli cologne that wafted off the second loser.

“We know you’re doing your vice president. I’d hate to see her get hurt.” Tarrant gave Banner a sardonic grin.

Banner rarely lost his temper—a source of pride, because he thought losing one’s temper was the mark of an amateur. He looked at the sniggering Tarrant and wondered just who was behind the intimidation, because it was clear neither Tarrant nor Church was the brains of any operation. He wondered if they had any idea how difficult it would be to take out Stromeyer. In a straight fight, he’d bet on her every time. Before he could say a word, the office door opened and Stromeyer strode in holding a cup of coffee and a gun.

“Edward, would you like some coffee?” she asked.

Banner raised an eyebrow but remained quiet. Stromeyer never called him by his first name—no one did. It was their personal code that meant be prepared. She was going to either shoot the gun or throw the hot coffee—or both. He tensed. He watched her turn toward Tarrant, who took a look at the gun and shoved his own hand into his jacket.

She threw the coffee. It flew at Tarrant in a perfect arc, her body flying with it. He dodged to the side, whether in an attempt to avoid the coffee, Stromeyer, or both, Banner couldn’t tell. Stromeyer stumbled two steps forward before catching herself. She still held the gun, but now she stood over Tarrant, who had fallen onto the floor. Two more drops of coffee fell on his sleeve from the cup.

“Don’t move, Mr. Tarrant. If it’s a gun you’re reaching for, it had better be licensed, because you’re on Candid Camera.” Her voice was calm, collected. Behind her, Church took a step closer.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Mr. Church. The camera feeds directly to a security station that will notify the D.C. police,” Banner said.

Church stepped back.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, aiming a gun at a federal officer.” Tarrant’s voice was harsh, but he’d pulled his hand out of his coat and stayed put.

Stromeyer looked at the gun in her hand, and an expression of surprise came over her face. “Oh, I am sorry. I forgot I was even holding it. It’s been misfiring, and I was going to have it checked out after I delivered the coffee to Banner. But of course then I slipped.” She bestowed a solicitous smile on Tarrant. “It didn’t burn you, did it? And what agency did you say you work for?” Tarrant remained quiet. He got up, brushing coffee off the sleeve of his trench coat, only managing to smear it instead.

Banner walked to the door and held it open.

“This meeting is over. It’s been informative. Next time you two agents decide to come here spouting threats, you’d better have a warrant.”

Tarrant laughed an ugly laugh. “I don’t need a warrant to beat your ass.”

Banner pointed at the door. “Get out.”

Tarrant walked over to Banner. When he came even, he leaned in close. “Shut your operation in the Gulf. It’s illegal, and after the Colombian matter no one’s gonna believe you when you say it ain’t. Darkview’s finished. Better find yourself a new job quick.” He sauntered out the door. Church followed, his face suffused with red from suppressed anger. He managed to bump Banner’s shoulder as he passed. Banner wanted to brush himself off to rid himself of any part of the man’s touch. Instead he stood still and watched them both leave.