ReWire a Thriller by John Cameron Chapter 46

Chapter 46

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The congressman said, “I know you have no evidence of any wrongdoing, son.  That’s why I am making this call.  You know I have been able to help you in the past.  I am saying you need to start looking at this fellow and you will find evidence.  The Patriot Act gives you the right to do pretty darn much whatever you please.  You wouldn’t want it to come out later, for instance when you are thinking about running for office, with my support of course, that you had a tip from a reliable source saying insider trading was going on, and you didn’t follow up.  Especially when the money they are making could be used to pay for who-knows-what kind of activities, such as terrorist acts.”

Assistant director Alexander Reed of the FBI sat up in his chair.  This congressman often had information he couldn’t possibly have.  The assistant director hated dealing with the congressman.  Even the congressman’s southern drawl seemed to ooze a sleazy aroma.

Where did the congressman get his information?  The assistant director of the FBI smiled as he thought that particular piece of information might be worth the effort of a follow-up.  The current FBI director was not happy with congressman who used their access to top-secret data to grind personal axes.  The assistant director knew this particular congressman had reminded the Director once too often where his support came from.  While he was investigating this tip, the assistant director would investigate a possible leak.

The assistant director of the FBI absently reached down to scratch his right leg.  He smiled, looking a little embarrassed despite being in his office on his own. He leaned back in his chair and grabbed his umbrella out of the canister behind his desk and rapped on his artificial right leg.  The doctors called it phantom nerve action.  At least he didn’t have the phantom pain that used to wake him every night.  An occasional itch in a leg that wasn’t there surely wasn’t nearly as bad a thing as pain from a non-existent limb.

Alex remembered when he was a kid.  He read a lot of science fiction. They would stick a blown up veteran in some kind of tub and re-grow limbs as easy as some people grew hair.  Wasn’t likely to happen in his lifetime.  His hand reached out, almost on its own volition, to play with the silver buckle.  He’d finished the Western States on his running leg in twenty-three hours forty-one minutes and seventeen seconds.  He’d come back from the dead, according to the doctors.

Reed had been a reservist when it had happened.  It had taken a lot of talking to get his old job back at the FBI, but he had.  He would be god-damned if he’d let some congressman who had never served, but made his tough reputation sending Reed’s brothers into harm’s way, screw with another wounded vet.

The assistant director of the FBI leaned back in his chair, folded his arms behind his head, closed his eyes for a few moments and thought.  Then he called his admin on his land line and said:

“Deidre, I’m going to step out for a little fresh air.  I should be back in a few minutes.” He reached into a his messenger bag to make sure the burner phone had enough of a charge to make a call, put it into his jacket pocket and took the stairs down to walk out into the square.  He wandered to the local coffee house, picked up an Americano and a blueberry scone.  He sat on the park bench that looked into the big open area and was conveniently shielded by Holly Oaks.  He punched a memorized number into his mobile.  “Robert E. Lee White and associates, this is Jane.  How may I help you?”

One of the seven assistant directors of the FBI said, “Hello Jane.  I would like to speak to Robert E. Lee White.”

Jane said, “May I let him know who is calling, please?”

“Just let Bob know it’s a concerned citizen.”

There was a short pause and then Jane said, “It might be few minutes.”

It was more than a few minutes when Robert E. Lee White came on and said, “This is Bob White.”

“ Mr. White this is John Doe.”

“Would you say that again, please?”

“Mr. White, this is John Doe, concerned citizen.”

“Hello, John, it’s been a long time since I have heard your voice. I have heard that you are doing well. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.  I’ve just been given some information or rather told that information exists if we simply dig deep enough.  And, it concerns someone who is quite close to you, someone whose sister is very close to him.”

“I see.  What is it that you would like me to do?”

“I’d like you to help me make sure that a hero and patriot is not put in a bad spot by someone who pretends to be a patriot and is certainly not a hero.”

“I would be more than happy to do this.  I have some information on this that might help you understand the picture more thoroughly.  Before we meet, I don’t suppose it’s worth me asking you to give up the dark side and come and earn an honest day’s wages, is it?”

The assistant director of the FBI laughed and said, “Not quite yet.  Some of us still have to mind the store, you know.  Do you want to meet for coffee to discuss this, or…?”

“I think coffee would be great. Should we say Caffeine Nation in the financial district at 10:15 tomorrow?”

“That would be great.”

“Airborne.”

“Ranger!”

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