Kathy arrived at the garage apartment shortly after Jack returned with armloads of clothing from a shopping trip to Nordstrom’s in Tysons Corner Mall. She also had a load of groceries. He liked the way Kathy moved, self-assured and confident. Her casual dress hinted at a great figure. Sunlight from the east windows accented the highlights in her blond shoulder-length hair. She had to be around his age. He liked her direct gaze. While Kathy was getting settled in one of the three bedrooms, he heard another knock on the door. Jack opened the door, and Anita Marino walked in carrying two blue canvas suitcases.

Jack thought Kathy had not accurately described her. She was more than pretty with a fantastic body, moving so gracefully it seemed she was floating. Because of her warrior background, Jack half-expected Anita to arrive wearing field boots and khakis. Instead she looked as if she were going to a tea party. For all her military skills she was still quite the lady. Everything about Anita said here is a woman of class and taste. Kathy introduced her to Jack and showed her into the third bedroom. Anita came out and said, “Hey, this place will do! Not exactly what I’d expected for an apartment over a garage. Kathy told me about your father and the fire last night. I’m very sorry. We’ll get whoever killed your father.”

“Thank you. My dad was a warrior. I’m sorry he died before we could get Yuri and his whole damn nest of snakes.”

Before Anita could respond, Jack noticed CNN was covering the fire. McLean was not used to terrorist attacks on its homes. Pictures of Shadow in his recovery crate were shown along with a story about the Bouvier breed and how Shadow had almost died trying to protect his family. Pictures of the burned house were shown and a few details about Peter Brandon, mentioning he was survived by one son, John Daniel Brandon, who was not available for an interview.

Jack swore and bristled at the pictures of Shadow in the hospital and said, “I wonder if these people are crazy enough to try to kill Shadow in the hospital.”

Kathy said, “Let’s hire a fulltime vet or assistant and move Shadow where no one can find him and we can protect him. From what little we know about Yuri and his network, I feel we have to err on the conservative side. This guy is a bad one, and it is now time for some action.”

Kathy noticed Jack had smiled at her and thought, God, that guy has a wonderful smile. Could all those bright white teeth be real? His smile makes my knees weak. Watch yourself, girl.

Anita asked, “Jack, what do you think?”

“I agree with Kathy. This guy Yuri is a professional involved in terrorism. His guys have just killed my father, my good friends, the Nguyens, and shot my dog. I don’t need any more evidence. I want to get this guy and all his people. A time comes in an investigation when it’s clear you have to make something happen. This is the time to get started.

“Here is my plan. It’s open for discussion, so don’t hold back. We need the best thinking we can do. We need to get Yuri on our terms. Kathy, I want you to write a note to Yuri he can’t ignore. We need to lure him to our killing ground. We will shorten the time frame, so Yuri has very little time to react. I want you to deliver the note the day after tomorrow.

“Anita, do you know a place in our general area we can use as a killing ground? It has to be a place that won’t spook Yuri. I think I’ll meet him out in the open with you covering me from a nearby shooting position.”

“Yes. I know of a couple of places. Let me get a map out. I’ll show you as soon as we are done here.”

“We need to get some weapons. Frank gave me the location of a storage lot and a key to one of the units. I’m planning on picking up a couple of silenced sniper rifles, three handguns, and some short-range radio gear. If you need anything else, speak now.”

Both Kathy and Anita told him that was all they needed for now. Jack knew they would have to move all the gear Frank left for them to another place soon, but a few days wouldn’t make a difference.

The place Anita picked was a natural. Jack looked at Anita’s map, agreed it was a good place to start and called for Kathy to join them for a road trip. He decided to use his Cherokee because with its shabby condition and Pennsylvania license plates it was their most expendable car. After Yuri was taken care of, the Cherokee could disappear. Two drive-bys with some images from Kathy’s digital camera and Jack felt they were ready to add details to their plan.

Back at the apartment they sketched out a basic plan. Object to keep it simple. To help Yuri feel at ease, Jack decided to hold the meeting on the lower level of the parking lot. There should not be much activity in the parking lot at 4:00 p.m. The actual meeting site would not be in view of passing motorists focused on the sharp curve at the bottom of the driveway. Jack believed Yuri would park across the road where there is additional parking for people using the recreational park along the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Anita said if Jack could drop Kathy and her along the road at a blind curve, they would make their way to a shooting position overlooking the parking lot and be in position at least 45 minutes before Yuri’s arrival.

Jack said, “If both of you are satisfied we have the basics of a plan, I’m going to see Shadow. Please put some meat on the bones of our basic plan. I’ll be back in an hour or so with lunch. Hope you both like Chinese.”

Jack asked the receptionist at the animal hospital if any of Shadow’s doctors were present. The pretty young woman smiled and told him Shadow’s surgeon was just getting ready to leave for the day, but the report on Shadow is he is doing better than expected. If Jack hurried he could catch Dr. Green on the top floor where Shadow was in a private room. He was, after all, a celebrity.

Jack met Dr. Green on the staircase where the doctor told him Shadow is a good patient. There was no infection and all Shadow’s vital signs were good. He was still drugged and sleeping most of the time. Dr. Green took Jack back to see Shadow. He was lying in a large padded crate with the IV and drain tube still in place. Shadow saw Jack and raised his massive head and wagged his docked tail. Jack rubbed his head and talked to him. Jack thanked the doctor for taking such good care of Shadow and then asked when he could move Shadow.

The doctor said, “He could be moved in three or four days if he continues to improve.”

“No, I meant could he be moved to another hospital today?”

“Yes, but why would you do that?”

“Because you put Shadow’s picture and location on TV. The people who killed my father and his Vietnamese friends, shot Shadow and burned the house, do they seem to you to be rational people? Because if they don’t, broadcasting his location after he killed one of them was not the wisest thing to do.”

Dr. Green, looking a little flustered said, “We never thought of that. Do you really believe they could come here looking for Shadow?”

“If I thought the chances were very remote, I wouldn’t be asking about moving him tomorrow. Now, can you recommend another hospital and can you keep his whereabouts to yourself?”

“Yes, Mr. Brandon, I can do that, but you have to realize Shadow is a celebrity, and I don’t think moving him elsewhere is the answer. We have been inundated with requests to see him or provide information about him.”

“Okay, another approach. Can you move him into a more secure place in your hospital and put out the word Shadow is no longer here?”

“We can do that. I’ll see to moving him now and tell all the attendants to tell anyone, no matter their story or reason, Shadow is no longer here. Will that do?”

“Thank you, Dr. Green. I’m sure you know I’ll pay any extra costs involved. Now I have to go. You can reach me on my cell in an emergency. Call me at any time if there is any change for the worse in Shadow. I’ll be here again tomorrow.”

Four days later Norma was strolling with Stanley along the Marina in Biscayne Bay. Her plan was to have Stanley, under the guise of looking for a boat to buy and moor in the marina, sketch the layout of the slips and the boats tied up in them. Norma was confident with her counterfeit media credentials she could find out about the secretary’s planned deep sea fishing excursion. Once she knew the name of the boat and its mooring, slipping a little four-ounce package of semtex aboard would be all she needed for mission accomplished.

That night in scanning all the local papers and with the local TV station on constantly, she learned the Secretary of Commerce was ending his official talks with Florida and Central American business people on Friday and was going to indulge in his hobby of salt water fishing. She had one more day to put her little package in the right place. The next morning she dragged Stanley out of their hotel room for breakfast in a place overlooking the marina. After breakfast she told Stanley to wait for her on the terrace. Norma dressed in her official business suit with a red wig and glasses, walked to the marina and went in to find the manager. A young girl in cutoffs and a tee pointed to a man out on the dock watching boat traffic.

Norma approached him, gave him her media card and said she was assigned to cover the secretary’s fishing trip and could he help her. She understood the secretary’s staff assistant had made the arrangements for a two-day trip departing here early tomorrow morning. The manager, looking like he had a hangover, said he was busy but she could come back tomorrow at 6:00 a.m. and watch the departure. Norma, who could pass for someone fifteen years younger, said she was a print reporter and not a video jockey. She needed some background and was willing to pay for some help and, with that, passed the man she now knew as Joe another business card with a fifty dollar bill.

Joe took the money and said, “There’s not much to say. The VIP guy is going out on Miss Money in slip 32. Captain Billy will find ’em some good fishing holes in the Gulf Stream ’bout 10 miles out. There’s some good marlin fishing and maybe grouper out there. They’ve ordered lunch for five.”

Norma thanked him and asked if she could go on board the Miss Money. Joe told her to go ahead, just take her heels off before going on board. He didn’t think anyone was on board yet. Norma found slip 32 without any trouble. She slipped off her heels and quietly went on board the 40-foot cabin cruiser, featuring two game fishing chairs on the aft deck. She called quietly to see if anyone was on board. After listening for several seconds, she went below deck and made her way forward to a position under the anchored fishing chairs. There Norma concealed her semtex package behind the overhead ventilator vent. After double checking everything, she set the timing device for twenty-four hours, giving the fishing boat time to get at least a few miles offshore.

Twenty minutes later she joined Stanley on the veranda and told him what she had done. Stanley was astounded that placing the bomb had been so easy. He was planning a late night journey out to the fishing boat, if Norma had been able to identify the boat and slip. This was so easy they should go celebrate, even if it was only 10:30 a.m. Norma told him first they had to change hotels away from Biscayne Bay. There was no way Joe, the marina manager, would be able to give the police a description of her, but it was just safer to move out of the immediate area. They would hang around until some news program told them about the death of the Secretary of Commerce in a boating accident.

The next day just before noon the local TV station broadcast a breaking news event that Secretary Waterford was missing after a boating accident ten miles offshore. An explosion aboard the boat, Miss Money, was seen by two other fishing boats. Witnesses reported the boat sank quickly and no survivors were found. Two as yet unidentified bodies were recovered. The Coast Guard was investigating the accident. Norma decided they should stay a few more days before heading back to Yulee in northern Florida. She hoped her Russian controller would be happy and would pass on a bonus. He was really very generous with his payments for jobs well done.

As soon as he returned from meeting Crystal in Florida, Yuri called Jason for a face-to-face meeting in Annapolis. Jason was instructed to be outside Starbucks at 1:30 in the afternoon. Yuri planned to pick him up in a rental car and conduct their meeting while driving around in the car. This method gave Yuri control of all aspects of the meeting. At precisely 1:29 Yuri pulled over to the curb very near where Jason was standing. A cold wind was coming off the bay, and Jason was bundled up in a faded red plaid woolen mackinaw, black watch cap and wearing laced-up worn Herman Survivor boots. Jason looked up at the car, recognized the man he knew as his control in his customary black fedora and climbed into the Ford Taurus.

No names were used or needed. Jason had been taking orders for two decades, and recognized and respected his control as a higher ranking fellow professional who could do action jobs if needed. He had always taken care of Jason and took great care to ensure the plans allowed for the operative to escape. For the last two decades under his control’s guidance, Jason had been developing his own network. Since then he had recruited and trained three men and one woman to follow his orders. One of these was his son. The others were relatives of his common law wife. He trusted them to carry out his orders. Up until now none of them had ever killed, but he was going to have them help with the next mission, whatever it was. He would plan, pick the shooting positions, and lay out the escape route for them.

All they would have to do is the actual shooting. Yuri passed $10,000 bonus money to Jason and said, “I have a difficult mission for you. Our terror program against this country is picking up. We have been instructed by the Center to spread fear by attacking unprotected local government officials. Pick three mayors for the first mission.

“If the authorities believe it is the same organization or people doing the killing, so much the better. The media will pick up the story and give it extensive publicity. The timing is a little flexible but we would like the mission completed in 30 days. Try to leave no more than five days between kills. Pick targets well away from your base, otherwise you have freedom to conduct your own operation. Just make sure you have a very reliable escape route and leave no evidence of any kind behind. Use any member of your network you think is ready, but absolutely no failures.

“I want you personally to guard the escape route if any of your network acts as the shooter. No prisoners. Anyone close to being arrested must be liquidated. As usual no one carries any identification. Jason, you know all this. I am just being extra careful. There will be a sizable bonus for success. You can divide it any way you want among the team. Any questions or resources you need from me?”

Jason responded in his usual harsh voice, “I understand. It is clear.”

“Good, then. I will see you on the 15th of next month.”

Yuri handed Jason a book of paper matches. Jason took the matchbook to identify the next meeting site, waved goodbye and got out of the car. He took a taxi to within three blocks of his parked car, and in an hour he was back in his marina. Jason thought this was the most dangerous assignment he had ever been given. It was clear he had to go over his own escape plan, in case he had to get away from everybody, including his control. With a few more bonuses he would have plenty of money to start over. He would make plans to sell the marina. You could never be too careful or too suspicious. In this business you had to take care of yourself.

Yuri drove his rental car to Dulles Airport, turned the car in and boarded a flight to San Francisco. He had another contact to make tomorrow with Sidney Oliver, his cell leader in San Francisco. One of the original KGB illegals, Sidney had been living under cover for the last three decades. Yuri had given him very little to do in the last year.

Sidney loved Chinese food. Chinatown in San Francisco had a number of places he frequented. Today, with his control paying the bill, he selected the most expensive. When his control called from the airport, Sidney told him to go to the Golden Palace in Chinatown. He would be waiting for him in one of the small private dining rooms.

Driving back to his office from Chinatown after the meeting, Sidney Oliver thought killing three mayors in less than a month was pushing too hard. Thank God, he had talked the man into doing the mayor of San Francisco first and delaying on the others until they met again. He disliked his control. The man had no sense of humor or appreciation for culture. He treated Sidney like a marginal employee.

It was dangerous work. He was not an action hero and was always frightened. But the money was very good and Sidney needed it. Keeping a young wife happy was draining his reserves. He would have to play sick to get the time off from his accounting firm to plan and execute the kill. He only had two other people in his cell, and he would have to do the wet work himself. No one else had the experience. Training without experience wasn’t good enough. To be truthful he wasn’t much of a sniper. He would have to get close, somewhere inside 70 meters, but a couple of hours at the rifle range would sharpen his skill and confidence.

Then, too, Carol Richland, the mayor, was an easy target. She was always out of the office, putting in appearances at a variety of community events. The local paper always published her schedule. She loved to have crowds on hand for her photo ops. He would need a few days to case her next event and he would be ready. The modified .270 Remington with the hunting scope couldn’t be traced to him. He would wear gloves and make sure it was well wiped, including the ammo, before he set up to shoot. Leaving it behind seemed to him to be the best tactic. No doubt he would shoot from inside a building or a roof top. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard after all.

Not surprisingly, his control knew Sidney’s weakness. He didn’t have the same confidence in Sidney he had in Jason, but he had no choice but to use this part of his aging network to extract the maximum amount of money from the al-Qaeda bankers. They should be impressed with the killing of mayors in Virginia and San Francisco, if his frightened cell leader could manage it. Within two months, he would receive one million dollars from al-Qaeda. He was sure Kazar, the middle man in New Delhi, was undoubtedly skimming a sizeable piece of each payment. He would have to deal with the bastard later. Anyway it was now out of his hands. Yuri turned in his rental car and headed for the United terminal for his flight back to Dulles.

Yuri, or William Armstead, as he was known at his residence on MacArthur Blvd., was still shaking from the action and close call at Kalin’s aka Brandon’s. He had lost three good men from his Charleston cell. They couldn’t be replaced. All of them had trained in the Soviet Union and infiltrated into the U.S. decades ago. That damn dog. He didn’t even know there was a dog in the house let alone a monster bear-like animal. There were more things he didn’t figure in his plan. The Asian servants fought like trained soldiers. He should have known Kalin wouldn’t be easy. Too bad Kalin wasn’t home 25 years ago when his team had killed Kalin’s wife and baby. Well, it was now a closed chapter. He had to get on with his plan.

His network was aging fast. Most of them had been living illegally in the United States for three decades and still thought he was an active duty Russian Intelligence Officer. Before he was forced out of the KGB, all of them had worked for him. In all the chaos following the breakup of the Soviet Empire, he had the perfect opportunity to relocate his former agents. The new Russian Intelligence Service would never find them without him.

A week ago he had given new missions to three of his cells. Yuri’s network was well trained. Professionals, they knew their leader was insistent upon attention to detail and adherence to schedules. The woman who runs the cell in Yulee, Florida is an expert in the use of explosives. Whenever she met Yuri, which was no more than an annual event and sometimes less frequently, she lobbied for a chance to use her skills. This time the woman, code named Crystal, was pleased. He had given her a chance to show off her skill in the innovative use of explosives. She still believed if she excelled maybe someone at the Center in Moscow would notice her. But long ago she knew she was never going back.

Crystal had grown used to the soft life in Florida and had no desire to go back to the bitter cold winters of Leningrad. She would never call her home city St. Petersburg. How bourgeois was that? In her late twenties Crystal had been a very attractive woman. She was now a senior citizen and the mirror was still kind to her. She had made enough money from her shop to afford decent medical and dental care and the frequent use of local spas. She thought, all in all, she was still a looker and attractive to older men. No! Whatever happened she was not going back to Russia.

After Yuri left for the airport, she called her live-in lover, the only person she had ever recruited for her cell, to tell him she would be home in an hour with some exciting news. Hell, this had been less than a part-time job for the last twenty years. She worked harder at her little antique shop than at her spy job. In Yulee she was known as Norma Carlson. Norma had a reputation for her fair prices and willingness to search for a have-to-have piece for a regular client. Norma hated to cook, and her lover Stanley Jones certainly was no connoisseur. As long as it was fried, he could care less. But tonight they would eat at her favorite restaurant in Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island, just across the bridge from Yulee.

She needed Stanley’s help for this assignment, and they could make it a vacation. She would close up the shop the day after tomorrow and drive down to Miami. It had been at least five years since she had been there. Norma had learned after the stress of the first five years of living in the United States as an undercover KGB agent, you had to take romance and perks at every opportunity, and even at her age she still enjoyed a romantic interlude with Stanley. She might be the KGB trained agent, but it was Stanley who understood killing. The highlight of his life was his time in the Vietnam War.

After they left Lieutenant Gallagar, Kathy said, “I’m taking you to my apartment. You can bunk in the guest bedroom. I just got a new boss, and I don’t want to lose him the first day.”

“What, you don’t think I’ll be okay by myself?”

“That’s right! First, no one who just lost his father should be alone. I know enough about you to know you have no friends in this area. Second, at least some of the gunmen got away. They could come back, and I bet you don’t even have a weapon. You see, I also know more about this Yuri character than you do.”

“You’re right. I don’t have a weapon and all my friends are back in Pittsburgh. But what do you mean, you know about Yuri?”

“When your father told Frank about seeing Yuri at the Seasons Hotel and following him to his house, Frank assigned me to keep a very discreet eye on Yuri. I followed him on two occasions from a very safe distance and also spent some hours watching his house from a room I rented with an angled view of his driveway and front door. From watching him, I know this guy is a pro. The odds are good he saw your father following him or watching his house. What we just saw was the result of that. No question that Yuri and his people killed your father. I’ll bet Yuri set the fire and escaped. He is a survivor.”

“My father’s house has a detached garage with a large apartment over the four bays. Tomorrow we can set up shop in the apartment over the detached garage.”

“Okay, that sounds like a plan.”

Kathy lived in a small house in Vienna, a short distance west of McLean and not as pricey a neighborhood. She pulled her Mustang into her driveway, opened the garage door with a remote and drove inside. Ten minutes later she had a fire going and asked Jack to make a couple of drinks, a scotch on the rocks for her. Jack splashed some Dewars over three ice cubes, poured a neat scotch for himself, and sat in one of the stuffed chairs near the fireplace.

Jack said, “I’m having trouble keeping myself from going right now and taking Yuri out. My father was the most important person in my life. I’m going to miss him terribly and to think the scumbag killed him and our good friend, the Nguyens, is just too much for me.”

“That’s the main reason I wanted you to come here with me. I remember how I felt when my brother was killed. It’s not a good time to be alone. Yuri is very smart, and it will take a good plan to get him. Remember you are no longer a cop. We need to take Yuri and get away, leaving no evidence behind.”

“Frank gave me another name besides yours.”

“Yes, he told me he had also recommended Anita.”

“Since you know her, let me ask you if I should bring her into this group now.”

“Anita is very good. She is no stranger to violence. Probably one of the best shooters in CTC. I like her a lot. We have been friends for the past five years. She has far more experience with weapons than I have. She is about ten years older than I am. I would have to really push to keep her in sight on a distance run. If she had a politically correct bone in her body, she could be running CTC. Yes, call her and get her involved as soon as you can. My suggestion is we all move into your garage apartment. Safety in numbers and we are facing a number of long days and nights before Yuri and his network are finished. Living in the same place gives us a good place to plan and saves time in travelling around. It also keeps us off the phones.”

“Do it! Call her and tell her what I told you. Same salary. Tell her to bring enough stuff for a week. Will she accept?”

“Anita loves to live on the edge. She’d come right now if I called her. But better tomorrow. You will need to do some early shopping. I guess all your stuff burned.”

“It did. Tomorrow up early, get breakfast at the Deli, drop me at the apartment. Get Anita as soon as you can. I said goodbye to my father days ago. He was slipping fast. I think he preferred to die like a warrior rather than the insidious creeping weakness of congestive heart failure.”

Jack ran into a police roadblock on the narrow lane leading to the Brandon house. Up ahead he could see fire trucks and flashing lights. Firemen were still directing their hoses on the smoking rubble. Jack pulled the Jeep over and parked. Kathy pulled in behind him. She got out and thought this cannot be a damned accident. Local police were manning the block. Jack, with Kathy beside him, showed the badge he still had and told the sergeant he lived here.

The sergeant said, “It’s a mess in there, and the crime scene guys have the area cordoned off, but I’m going to let you through. Just stay clear of the house.”

Jack and Kathy ran toward the house.

The devastation was incredible. Only the detached four bay garage with the guest apartment had survived, untouched by the fire. Firemen were beginning to gather up their hoses. A cold winter drizzle was falling. A lingering smell of burned plastic, rugs and upholstery hung in the air. The house had collapsed. Only the south wall was still standing. From an angle they could see portions of the cars in the house garage crushed and smoldering in the debris. Jack showed his badge again and said this was his father’s house. The lieutenant said, “Sorry, everyone in the house is dead from gunshots.”

“Gunshots! Are you sure?”

“No question.”

“The firemen got the bodies out before the fire got to most of them. I’m sorry we had to meet at your father’s murder scene. We found six bodies, one outside and five inside. We believe the house was torched by the attackers. The bodies are all in the morgue. You don’t want to see them yet. Two of the bodies found inside and the one outside have not been identified. The only living thing here when we arrived was a big black dog that had apparently taken on one of the attackers and killed him but was shot in return. The dog is now in the McLean Animal Hospital.”

Jack told him that was his dog Shadow. The police lieutenant asked Jack to please stop in at the station and give them a statement and answer some questions after they had taken care of the dog. Jack said fine and left with Kathy in her car for the animal hospital.

The door was locked, but when they knocked and Jack told them who he was, the attendant opened the door and let them in. The attendant told him Shadow’s surgery was over. The doctor should be out of the surgery suite almost any minute, and Jack could go see him. He then called Lee Jensen who picked up on the first ring. Jack told him where he was and what had happened but told Lee not to come over. He would check in with him in the morning when he knew more. Lee said he would make time for Jack whenever he called and could come over. There were papers he had to sign. Jack thanked him and hung up.

Jack had no sooner put his cell in his pocket when the surgeon came out. The doctor said, “Mr. Brandon, that is some dog. He was shot by a large caliber weapon through his right shoulder. The angle of entry missed his heart and lungs and exited on the same side just under his right leg. No significant bone damage. There is extensive muscle damage which he should recover from. He lost a lot of blood, but his chances are good. I don’t know what the police told you, but they found your dog on top of one of the assailants, who was apparently trying to enter the house from the back. The man had a semi-automatic weapon still clutched in his hand. According to the officer who brought your dog to us, it looked as if the Bouvier had surprised him and in the fight tore out the attacker’s throat, but not before he was able to shoot your dog. According to the police several expended casings were on the ground. Now you can see your dog. He’s just waking up. Unless an infection occurs and I don’t think it will, Shadow can go home in three or four days.”

Jack gripped the doctor’s shoulder and made sure he knew Shadow should get the best treatment possible. Cost was not a problem. Jack asked Kathy to come with him into the surgery recovery area. Shadow watched Jack approach and licked his hand when Jack held his head. Tears ran down Jack’s face, and he was so choked up he could barely talk to Shadow. When he looked up at Kathy, he saw she was also crying. Shadow was restrained with an IV in his front leg and a drain tube in his chest. Kathy said she could stand people getting hurt, but not animals.

Jack and Kathy sat with Shadow until the big dog dropped off to sleep. Promising to come back in the morning, they eased quietly out of the room. Both he and Kathy got into her car and headed for the McLean Police Station.

Lieutenant Gallagar was waiting for them. He told them this wouldn’t take long. His first question was about Peter Brandon’s business interests. Jack said his father was always searching for good investments and did a bit of quiet philanthropy. Then the lieutenant, apologizing to Jack said, “I have to ask you where you were tonight?”

“We were both having dinner at the Ritz.” When Kathy confirmed Jack’s statement, the lieutenant said, “Okay, but I have another problem. At least four armed men attack a house with a very sick old man, an elderly Vietnamese couple and a dog, and three of them get killed. You gotta admit that, given surprise was on the side of the attackers and the attackers lost three men, is a bit unusual. Can you explain?”

Jack said, “Well, my father believed people should be able to protect their homes, and he had a gun collection and knew how to use them. As a boy he taught me to shoot both handguns and rifles. His servants, veterans of the Vietnam War, were skilled with small arms. The dog’s my Bouvier des Flandres, named Shadow. He’s a trained and very powerful watch dog. I’m guessing he gave the alarm that got my father and the Nguyens ready. Given those factors, it’s not so strange the people inside an attacked building should have some success.”

“Hmm. I think you’ve explained my problem. You both can go now. Where will you be staying?”

Jack answered, “I’ll be staying in the apartment over the garage at my father’s house. Before we go, I have to ask a few questions. What can you tell us about the attackers? And when will we be permitted to look through the fire site? I assume it is still a crime scene. You can call Captain Shorer at this number. I’m sure he’ll vouch for me. Please give me as much detail as you can about my father’s murder.”

The lieutenant smiled at Jack, got up and shook his hand and said, “I’ve a high regard for the Pittsburgh police in general and Captain Shorer in particular. I’ll extend you every courtesy I can. You can use the garage, and our investigation at the site should be completed within a few days.”

Lieutenant Gallagar thought for another moment, then told them what he was going to say was not for publication and was off the record. “We don’t think it was a robbery. The violence, the size of the attacking force, the firepower they carried and the burning of the house just don’t add up to a robbery unless, of course, something of incredible value was in the house that the surviving attacker or attackers found and took with them. I believe you would’ve told me if that was the case. Secondly, these guys were all rather long in the tooth. I haven’t heard officially yet, but to me it doesn’t look like any of the dead attackers was under sixty years old. They all looked to be in good shape, though. As to ethnic backgrounds, they did not appear to be Arabs. They looked like Caucasians.”

In answer to Jack’s question, Lieutenant Gallagar told them the weapons were all nines and the two submachine guns they found were Uzis. The one handgun found with an attacker was a CZ-85 of Czech manufacture. The third dead attacker looked to have been killed by a shotgun. Le Dinh and his wife were found with empty shotguns. Other than the weapons the dead men carried, they had nothing else on them. No one knows yet how many there were or how they got there. Not one of the people contacted by the police noticed anyone leaving the scene. They had all heard the gunfire, and several had called 911.

It would be some days before forensics finished the ballistic report. They were now attempting to trace the weapons found at the scene. Fingerprint analysis would take some time. Some of the burns on the hands were extensive. Gallagar told Jack he could look through the wreckage the day after tomorrow or the next day. He would be in touch. Jack asked when he could take his father’s body and make funeral arrangements. Gallagar made a phone call and, when he hung up, said the day after tomorrow.

Jack spotted Kathy in the lobby. He thought too bad this is serious business. She is drop dead gorgeous. Jack walked up on her blind side and said, “UNC never had a decent football team.”

Kathy replied, “I saw you coming, and lucky for you UNC never played your school. Pitt hasn’t exactly been going to many big bowls.”

“Touché. On that, let’s go have dinner.”

Kathy saw Jack’s momentary surprise when she mentioned Pitt. She did not have a file on Jack but Google did. She guessed he had never googled himself.

When Kathy stood, Jack was surprised to see she was only three or four inches under his six one. She looked and moved like a natural athlete. She was stunning in her simple black dress. A pearl necklace and pearl ear rings were her only jewelry. Once seated at a corner table in The Steak House with reasonable privacy, Jack asked her if she had heard from Frank. Kathy told him Frank had told her to be candid and she was in the company of good people.

When Jack asked her why she was willing to leave the CIA with such a good career going, Kathy said, “My main reason is I need more money to keep my mother in a very expensive nursing home for Alzheimer patients.”

“If I may ask, what are your other reasons?”

“Sure. My brother died in the Twin Towers terrorist attack. I hate terrorists and want to help destroy them. My brother was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He never hurt anyone.”

“Aren’t you helping destroy them working for Frank?”

“Frank has too many restrictions on his activities to be effective. Congressional oversight, political sensitivities, the left wing influence of the media and academia, and the culture of law and order justice pushed by the trial lawyers are serious hurdles. Then the trial lawyers control the legislature and handicap the kinds of operations needed to beat radical Islam. It wasn’t so bad in the field, but working here at Headquarters is not for me.”

“Kathy, may I call you Kathy?”

“Sure.”

“Shall we take a look at the menu.”

Kathy saw Jack looking at the wine list and said, “Any red wine is good for me.”

“What are you going to select for your entrée?”

Kathy put down her menu and said, “Why don’t you order for me?”

“Okay, but no second guessing.”

Kathy thought, Good. Maybe I can learn something else about this man. He certainly passes the looks and manners test. But why am I receiving signals this very rich, handsome man is enjoying my company? He should be married and off the market. Any woman would kill to have those green eyes. He is very good-looking but not in the least the cute type. His clothes are in good taste but not expensive. Yet here we are dining in the Ritz and he drives an old Cherokee. What is going on here?

Just then their waiter appeared to take dinner orders. Kathy snapped out of her musings and paid full attention to her prospective employer’s order.

Jack put the menu down and said, “The lady and I will start with the French onion soup, followed by organic field greens salad, braised beef short ribs with asparagus and baked potato. Bring a bottle of Chilean cabernet for us before dinner.”

“Sounds good. How did you know I wasn’t a vegetarian?”

“I never met a vegetarian that didn’t announce that when sitting down at the table.”

As soon as the wine was poured, Jack said, “Unfortunately, we have to turn to business for a bit. I know you are more than competent. Frank gave you top marks. So all I need to know is if you are willing to work for me. The pay will start at $500,000 per year plus expenses.”

“Wow! I can be bought, but please tell me something about yourself before I commit myself.”

“Why don’t you ask questions instead of me rambling on?”

“Okay. Tell me about your work experience.”

Jack went over his experience in the Marine Corps, his education and his work on homicide cases with the Pittsburgh police. By the time he finished, dinner was over. They both passed on dessert but ordered coffee.

Kathy said, “Okay, I’m your new employee. Who do I work for and what can I tell other people?”

“My lawyer is working up what you would call a ‘cover company’ to pay us and our expenses. I don’t have the name yet, but it will be a new start-up consultant company with a local address and decent office space. Benefits will be channeled through our cover company. I want you to start immediately. I’ll need help getting everything set up and having an expert to advise me has to be a good thing.”

“Call Frank and I’ll start tomorrow. Where should I report?”

“Follow me in your car and I’ll show you. I’ll wait for you in front of the hotel. We can use a guest apartment for a while. And if my father is still up, I want you to meet him.”

Jack saw Kathy pull in behind him, and he set off for the ten-minute drive.

Two hours after Jack departed for his interview with Kathy Grayson at the Ritz, Peter Brandon was resting comfortably in his library and wondering if Jack would want to hire the woman Frank had so highly recommended. A quiet winter rain began with the onset of darkness. The fireplace threw a pleasant warm glow. He loved to sit by a fire. He knew his time was short, but he was pleased with the way his son was responding to his past. Jack seemed to have a natural feeling for this kind of work. Yes, he had done right to give Jack this opportunity.

Musing over Jack’s possible reaction to Miss Grayson, he heard Shadow barking and remembered he was outside. As he moved toward the back door, he heard Shadow’s barking change to a roaring growl followed by several gunshots. Peter yelled an alarm to Le Dinh and stepped quickly back into the library and took his Browning 9mm and an extra magazine out of his chair side table. He chambered a round and went to find Le Dinh. He heard breaking glass followed by several shotgun blasts and automatic weapons firing. He was moving down the hall to the living room, when he saw two dark figures coming toward him. Peter fired and kept firing. The first figure was hit and dropped. He shifted his fire to the second figure who had taken cover behind a seventeenth century American chest of drawers on the left side of the hallway. Peter emptied his thirteen round magazine and was reaching for another one when submachine gun fire from the hallway entrance struck him in the legs and chest. He felt himself falling. His last thought was he had cheated the doctors. He would die his way.

Since Shadow’s alarm at the back door, only thirty seconds had passed. The last assailant and the only person alive in the house took time to spread an accelerant and start a fire before he went out the back door and through the wooded park to his car. Peter had killed one of the attackers, Shadow another at the back door. Le Dinh’s shotgun had cut down a third at the front door before he and his wife died under a hail of bullets. Le Dinh was not unaccustomed to violence. He had been a decorated leader of one of the CIA’s Provincial Reconnaissance Units in Vietnam. Le Dinh and his wife were more than just servants who cooked and cleaned for Peter Brandon. Three of the armed attackers with surprise on their side had died in the attack. Before the remaining attacker reached his waiting car, sirens from the police and fire departments were entering the area.

 

The Brandons arrived back at their home in time for Jack to take Shadow for a walk before the lawyer, Lee Jensen, arrived with a carry-out dinner. Jack was anxious to get started with a life far different than he had ever dreamed. Picking a spot in the fading sun, Jack let Shadow off his leash and sat down to think over the earlier meeting with Frank. He was committed now. He had to trust Frank Batcher, and he had to trust Frank’s people almost the same way Shadow trusted him. The big black Bouvier always stayed close enough to keep Jack in sight. He often wondered who was taking care of whom as he walked back to the house.

When he returned, Jack found his father was taking a much needed rest. Settling down in the library with a cup of black tea, Jack opened the package Frank had given him. Each dossier had a picture attached of a very attractive woman. Kathy Grayson was younger with long blonde hair. The other, Anita Marino, was older than Kathy and as dark as she was fair. Opening Anita’s file, Jack started reading. After graduating from the University of Pittsburgh, Anita served ten years with the Army in the Rangers and later in the Special Forces. She had seen combat in Iraq with the Special Forces and served with distinction. She was promoted to the rank of major before deciding to leave Special Forces for the CIA. Her specialties were demolitions and small unit tactics. At the end of the brief write-up was a handwritten note saying both women would be forthright in talking about their backgrounds during his interviews. Jack guessed Frank believed written records should be kept to a minimum and the best way to keep a secret is not to put it in the records.

Kathy Grayson joined the CIA right after she graduated from the University of North Carolina (UNC). During her eight years with the Agency, she served two tours in the Arab world and one tour in Moscow. Her Arabic was quite good, Russian less so. Of the two, Anita was the better language student, speaking several languages with near-native pronunciation. At UNC Kathy majored in Middle Eastern and South Asian studies. She had completed more than half of the class work for a Master of Arts degree. Jack decided he would try to see them both tomorrow. Now he was going to work out in the house gym. On the bottom floor of the house, his father had installed a rather complete workout area in a 20’x20’ room with a padded floor for martial arts practice.

After a hard work out with weights and a shower, Jack was just checking on his father who was sleeping soundly when Shadow’s loud barking alerted him to a car coming up the driveway. Jack opened the door as Lee stepped up on the porch. Shadow bounded out the door to confront this invasion of his turf. Jack told Shadow it was okay. Jack could see Lee had held his composure but just. An unexpected confrontation with a 100-pound black bear-like dog had caused Lee’s jaw to clench a bit.

Following a dinner carried in from the Café Italia and a bottle of decent Chianti, Lee opened his briefcase and, with the use of charts and graphs, began to explain the financial mechanism controlling the Brandon assets and real estate. All were controlled by two separate holding companies through a cascading tier of corporate sub-owners. Lee told Jack, while the ownership could be tracked back to the Brandons, it would take a team of experts at least a year to unravel the network he and Jack’s father had set up. Lee’s firm handled all the legal requirements and managed the tax returns each year.

After Lee finished his presentation, Jack told Lee he intended to hire a few employees, and he wanted to pay them and required expenses through a holding company. The company should be difficult to trace back to the Brandons and fit the activities of a group of consultants. A location in Northern Virginia would be preferable. He would also need an office complex for six people, very low key with no nosy neighbors and no competitive consultant businesses or lawyers’ offices in the same building. He wanted to see the building before Lee took care of the lease arrangements. Lee told Jack he could handle that requirement. But it would be at least a week before he would be ready to show Jack a possible location.

The next morning Jack called both Grayson and Marino on the numbers Frank provided. In both cases he had to leave a message to call his number. His father found him on the sun porch enjoying a cup of strong black coffee. Jack told his father he had left a message for the two people Frank had suggested he interview. Peter sat across the coffee table from Jack and said, “If you are going to talk to people in the spy business, you’d better learn some of the jargon.”

The next four hours were taken up with exposing Jack to the vocabulary of clandestine operations. His father covered alias documentation, surveillance principles, and general tradecraft and communications options. Jack knew many of the principles from his police training and on-the-street experience, but nuances appeared when it came to espionage and terrorism. By the end of the afternoon, Jack had learned a new lexicon of dead drops, brush contacts, safe houses, secret writing, clandestine signaling, double agents, the uses and limitations of disguises, surveillance and counter-surveillance.

The phone rang just as his father was going to take a short rest before dinner. Kathy Grayson was returning his call. Jack asked her if she had a few hours to spend with him.

Kathy said, “Sure, especially if you feed me.”

Jack laughed and said, “You’re on. Meet me in the lobby of the Ritz in an hour.”

“Okay. How will I know you?”

“Easy. I’ll be the only man in the Ritz lobby who knows your birth date and grade point average at UNC.”

“No fair. I don’t know anything about you.”

“Yeah. I know. See you in an hour.” Before she could answer, Jack hung up.

Kathy put the phone down and wondered how interesting this was going to be. He was pushing her wardrobe by taking her to the Ritz. Basic black might have to do.