Veil of Civility

Chapter Sixty-Four

"Please don't kill me," the man said, as Declan motioned for him to exit the Land Rover. Beads of sweat rolled down his narrow face and his hands shook as he held them up, palms open. "I haven't done anything to you."

Declan could tell by the way Lane Simard's eyes were locked on him as he pushed open the door that the man recognized him. He lowered the pistol as Simard exited the vehicle and it became evident that he was unarmed.

"I'm not going to kill you," Declan said, "but that's more than I can say for those commandos that were chasing you."

He quickly patted Simard down for any weapons he might have hidden and then pushed the man forward along the gravel driveway towards the farmhouse, staying several feet behind him in case the veteran CIA man decided to try an attack. While the man's fear seemed to be genuine, Declan was sure that the agency training in deception was top notch.

"I need to get to London," Simard said, turning partially around as he pleaded. "My family was supposed to be here by now and they haven't shown up. I need to know they're alright."

Declan didn't respond. He wanted to but he didn't know exactly what to say. He knew all about concern for his family and Simard's role in threatening them would determine whether or not he had any sympathy for the man's plight. He waved Simard on and they got to the front of the house as Allardyce and Gordon were helping Shane around towards the front door.

"Lord Allardyce?" Simard said, as he took note of the three men.

"Mr. Simard," Allardyce said, with a grimace.

Simard stopped walking and turned, looking between Declan and Allardyce. "What's going on here?"

"We'll be the ones asking the questions, Mr. Simard," Allardyce said. "Now get inside."

"I'm not going anywhere until someone—"

Declan grabbed the CIA man by the shoulders and shoved him through the front door. As the man recoiled and attempted to throw a right-handed hook, Declan effortlessly blocked the punch and drove his fist into the man's stomach. "That's for helping to set me up," he said, as Simard collapsed to the floor and struggled to draw breath. "Your answers to my questions will determine just how much more pain I inflict on you."

"Setting you up?" coughed Simard. "You murdered dozens!"

Declan jerked him upwards by the collar and shoved him through the kitchen and into the farmhouse's living area where he pushed him into an armchair. "We both know I've never murdered anyone. Now I suggest you start talking or what those goons lying dead out the back had planned for you is going to look like a walk in the park!"

"Steady, now," Allardyce said, as he and Gordon helped Shane onto a sofa. "He may not have had anything to do with setting you up. Requests made to the Committee follow a strict procedure, which he adhered to. I'm not sure how things work on the other side of the Atlantic, but I'm sure Mr. Simard will tell us all about it."

"I'm not telling anyone anything until I know my family's safe! I have a wife and two boys en route from London!"

"And my wife and I have been on the run from assassins and the police agencies on two continents for a week!" Declan said. "So far you're not tripping my sympathy meter."

"'Please, everyone, calm down," Allardyce said, as he stepped between Declan and Simard, his eyes moving between both men. "Now, Mr. Simard, we have as much interest in your family's safety as you do. We haven't done anything to harm them and we never would. Why don't you take a deep breath and then tell us what's happened here tonight versus what was supposed to happen."

Simard's eyes bored into Declan for a moment. "I'm here for a vacation with my family. I arrived early, as I always do, for security reasons and all. My family was supposed to arrive after my boys were done with their weekend football games. They've never shown up."

"And who were the men chasing you?" Allardyce asked.

"I don't know. I saw a pair of headlights coming down the drive, assumed it was my family, and the next thing I know the agent that was positioned outside came running through the door followed by those men, who then shot him. Another agent and I ran upstairs but they followed too quickly for us to get away. They killed him and moved me to the back room there," Simard said, nodding his head towards the dining room. "They said they'd called in London for me and had been told I wasn't home. They were about to kill me when another vehicle came to a stop outside. They were distracted so I took the opportunity to run."

"That would have been us arriving," Allardyce said, looking at Declan. "Sounds like we arrived in the nick of time. What happened then?"

"I ran out the back door and they chased me. I lost them when I doubled back around the hedge surrounding the horse barn. That's when I tried to leave and this damn terrorist caught me."

"He's not a terrorist, at least not anymore," Allardyce said. "From the sound of it, you two have a lot in common. Assassins have come several times for him in the last few days, too. Luckily his experiences in life have helped him stay alive. Now you're telling me that you have no idea who those men were or who could have sent them after you? They simply showed up here, in a house that you don't own and where no one should have known to look for you, to kill you?"

Simard stayed silent for a moment, his eyes darting around the floor as he apparently thought over the entire situation. "Kemiss," he finally said, "that son of a bitch."

"Who's Kemiss?" Declan asked.

Simard looked up. "Senator David Kemiss, a member of the Senate Intelligence Committee in the United States."

"Jesus," Shane said from the sofa, where Gordon was helping him keep pressure on the gunshot wound near the top of his knee, "a bloody politician?"

"He called me earlier this afternoon and said he had sent a gift to my London residence to thank me for helping him get information on you. He asked to forward it here and a few hours later those men showed up. That son of a bitch, he tried to have me killed."

"So he sent those men to kill you because you knew who he was, because he'd asked you directly to get information from Her Majesty's government?" Allardyce asked. “Information that he then released to the press."

Simard nodded. "Yes. I met with him at his request earlier this week while I was in Washington for some meetings. In my position you don't say no to someone who sits on the Intelligence Committee without a damn good reason. He said he'd been asked to help by someone in the Richmond Field Office of the FBI."

"Castellano worked in the Richmond Field Office," Declan said. "He's the lead investigator that led me into the ambush by Baktayev's men while he was supposedly transporting me to jail."

"The same one they accused you of killing?" Allardyce asked.

Declan nodded. "He was shot during the initial ambush. I tried to save him, but I couldn't. He died behind a dumpster where we were both ducking for cover."

"Why would a sitting politician in the United States want to help a Russian terrorist commit an atrocity against his own country?" Allardyce asked, though it was apparent from the look on his face that the question wasn't directed at anyone in particular.

"I think we need to ask him," Declan said.

"Please," Simard said loudly. "I need to find out if my family has been harmed!"

"Get the man a phone," Allardyce said. "He's earned it."