The Protector: A Detective Oliver Rousseau Novel

The C.I.A. in Langley, Virginia is situated on two-hundred and fifty acres of land and is the most secure compound in the world. It is heavily guarded twenty-four hours a day and only those people with official business are permitted on the grounds. As Oliver waited in a line of cars approaching the security gate, he looked at the building ahead through the windshield of his rental car. The outer shell surrounding the building gave it an alien-like appearance but he knew it had been constructed to keep voices and computer emissions from being captured by detection equipment. It has always been a target for anyone intent on committing crimes against Americans.

At the guard's gate, Oliver handed over his identification and cell phone as requested, and then waited while his credentials were verified. At the main entrance, he went through yet another security checkpoint, and body scan, and was told to wait for his party. The lobby was impressive to say the least; a massive area with many columns throughout and a stone floor of alternating large dark and light gray marble-looking tiles that seemed to go on endlessly. In the center of the floor, perfectly sculpted into the stone was a large inlayed circle with the C.I.A.'s insignia.

Oliver watched as the elevators opened and a dozen people exited. Somewhat surprised although he wasn't sure why, one face stood out among the others. The man was older now, his once-black hair sprinkled with gray and a few added lines that hadn't been there twenty years ago but it was definitely the same man who had trained him when he had joined Quest. At six-four, Commander Hightower still had a slender build and appeared just as fit as he had nearly two decades ago.

Oliver held out his hand as he approached.

Oliver, it's good to see you again, the commander said shaking his hand.

Oliver nodded. Commander.

What he couldn't figure out was what a high-ranking officer was doing working in a civilian intelligence agency? During his training, Oliver had always assumed Commander was his rank and it fit with his imposing physique. Maybe he wasn't actually military personnel. Now, he was intrigued more than ever to know why he had been summoned to Langley.

He chuckled. I haven't been called Commander in almost twenty years. It's John Hightower now.

Inside the elevator, he held out his hand. Oliver reached inside his coat pocket and handed over his airline ticket in the name of Robert Segal. He knew all electronic trails of Segal would be erased and no one would know Oliver had used that name when he flew into D.C. this morning on a commercial airliner and rented a car.

When they got off the elevator, Oliver followed Hightower to the double-glass doors marked Global Response Center. Hightower looked through the retinal scanner and then held his hand up to the print identifier, triggering the automatic doors to open. When they reached his private office, he closed the door and motioned for Oliver to take a seat.

As soon as he was seated Oliver asked, Why all the secrecy? What is it that couldn't have been said on our secure phone?

Hightower walked over to the coffee pot. Above him on the wall was a plaque that read: We are the nation's first line of defense. We accomplish what others cannot accomplish and go where others cannot go.

A sensitive matter has come to my attention that is extremely important to national security and not something to be discussed on the phone. He poured each of them a cup of coffee and handed one to Oliver. Let me start by telling you a story. Over a hundred years ago, a revolution began to take control of a waterway in Panama at the Port of Colon. This waterway or canal provided a route between the Atlantic and the Pacific and was of vital importance to the U.S. At the time, President Teddy Roosevelt and France tried to work with the Columbians to finance and build the Panama Canal, but the Columbians rejected the idea and Panama was an independent nation. So what's a country to do? Well, President Roosevelt was an enterprising man and he sent in U.S. troops to protect our interest, drafted a treaty providing that a strip of the waterway become American territory, and the canal was built.

Oliver wondered what this history lesson had to do with him.

Hightower took a sip of coffee. Fast forward to 1983. Through a succession of Panamanian commanders and dictators, General Manuel Noriega took military control of Panama. At one time Noriega was on friendly terms with George H.W. Bush. We trained Noriega, and by we, I mean The Agency. He was trained in U.S. Intelligence and Counterintelligence and he was our eyes and ears in Panama, a paid informant if you will; a real up-and-comer and we wanted him to take a stance against Communism. But through greed for wealth and more power, Noriega got involved in drug smuggling and money laundering with the drug cartels and through intimidation and torture, he alienated his own people. Since we had a strong military presence and U.S. citizens living there, a new president by the name of Ronald Reagan took action and imposed sanctions to get Noriega to establish a civilian government.

His cell phone buzzed and he read the message. Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah. It seems there was no reasoning with Noriega. In January 1989, President George H.W. Bush took office and implemented Operation Just Cause – the capture of his old friend Manuel Noriega. He sent in his best general and invaded Panama with a show of force. Our troops forced the Panamanian soldiers to surrender, and we took out any means Noriega had of escaping the country. Now you probably know some of this story. After months of evading captivity, we finally found Noriega hiding out in the embassy where he eventually surrendered to our troops.

But Noriega served his time here, and then in France if I recall, Oliver interjected. So where is he now?

Hightower raised an eyebrow. "In prison, in Panama, for crimes against the Panamanian people. I believe it's for murder and corruption. But we not only got Noriega but his right-hand man, Colonel Mateo Soto. Back in 1989, when Operation Just Cause started we sent in our Navy Seals late at night to remove Noriega from power. We were under the impression that all flights coming into Panama that night had already landed but there was one flight that had been delayed and didn't arrive until our men were on the ground at the airport. While the good guys were commandeering Torrijos International Airport, people were disembarking from that flight from San Francisco. Our Seals had been thoroughly briefed on Noriega's army and one of them recognized two of the passengers as Tamara and Isabella Soto, Noriega's top colonel's wife and daughter. We grabbed them and brought them back to Washington. In exchange for their testifying against Noriega and Colonel Soto, we offered them immunity and a new life. Believe me when I say they weren't innocent but their crimes were not of interest to us.

I can understand Mrs. Soto testifying against Noriega, but the colonel? A wife testifying against her husband? How did we get around that?

They weren't U.S. citizens so our laws didn't apply to them and I'm sure there was a fair amount of intimidation. In exchange for their testimony, and the fact they spoke excellent English, they were given new identities and trained as teachers. Twenty-four years have passed without incident. These women have lived their lives and as far as I know, they haven't looked back. That being said, we do have an obligation to keep them safe.

So what does all this have to do with me?

Yesterday, we intercepted an email that we believe puts these women in imminent danger. The email was sent from an address belonging to the U.S. Deputy Marshal assigned to protect them. We contacted the Marshals Service and they found the deputy's body in his apartment. I don't have to tell you that criminal networks have evolved to become more complex and volatile. It's not just about finding a small cell or a group of terrorist anymore. One individual with the right intelligence and financial backing can do a lot of damage.

Hightower reached into his desk drawer and took out a single sheet of paper and handed it to him.

He read the one line: C25TKAMP245. An anagram? Do we know who sent the email?

Hightower sighed and shook his head. This is where your training from Quest will be utilized. You'll be looking for a needle in a haystack. It's what you've been trained to do.

Oliver looked at the paper in his hand again. So what does C25TKAMP245 mean?

It didn't take a genius to figure it out. All we had to do was search the internet. It took us directly to To Kill A Mockingbird. We checked Chapter 25, Page 245 and it states: one down, two to go in a sentence.

Twenty-four years is a long time. What's changed that would put the Soto women in danger now?

Colonel Soto's sentencing was more lenient than Noriega's because he was basically a soldier following orders. He was released from prison in Panama three weeks ago and if anyone has a vendetta against these two women it would be him.

Oliver laid the paper on his desk. Hightower picked it up, swiveled his chair around and stuck it in the shredder.

He'd have to take time off work but that shouldn't be a problem since he wasn't working any high-profile cases, and his team could handle what they had going on now Oliver thought.

So where's the haystack?

Hightower smirked. New Orleans.

CHAPTER 1

A man carrying a canvas bag entered Sacred Heart Hospital and looked around the lobby for the nearest restroom. He noticed there were only a handful of people seated in chairs either talking on their cell phones or reading magazines. No one looked in his direction. Scanning the lobby, he saw the restroom sign hanging from the ceiling and moved in that direction. Entering the restroom, he locked the door behind him and sat the small bag on the floor. He removed his shirt, hanging it over the toilet stall and then unzipped the bag, pulling out a white shirt with a clergy collar. Putting it on and buttoning it up, he reached into the bag to remove two blue shoe covers, similar to the ones worn by doctors in surgery, and stuffed them into his pants pocket. Next, he pulled out a black cassock, shook out the wrinkles as best he could and slipped into the robe and secured it closed. He turned toward the mirror over the sink and adjusted the robe. Satisfied he wouldn't draw undue attention in a Catholic hospital he folded his shirt and laid it in the bag and zipped it back up. Next to the sink was a trash container with a swing-style closure. Pulling off the top, he removed the plastic liner from inside and stuffed his canvas bag in the bottom, put the liner back in and placed the lid over it.

Leaving the hospital by the back door, he casually strolled across the covered walkway between St. Catherine's School and Sacred Heart Hospital, admiring the spring flowers and statues. He pulled open the door to the school and stood there a minute allowing his eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lighting. The long corridor was deserted. He glanced in every classroom door as he passed by. At a fork in the corridor, he heard talking and went in that direction. At an open door, he briefly glanced inside noticing four nuns sorting papers in what looked to be the central office. They didn't look up from their work and he retraced his steps to the main hall. Further down, he came to a shorter hall leading off the main corridor where a door was propped opened and he could hear humming coming from within. He listened for a minute thinking that the song reminded him of home. He smiled. At the threshold of the doorway, he listened a moment longer and then entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

CHAPTER 2

Marin stood in front of her vanity applying lip gloss, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She was going to pick up Megan and they were going to the girls' school to help with the annual school carnival. Even though Olivia, Sam and Alex were a little old for the carnival, they still attended every year because it was a huge fundraiser, and every year Marin volunteered with the festivities.

A familiar chill invaded the bathroom, sending a shiver through her body. Straightening, she slowly lowered her lip gloss to the counter. In the mirror's reflection, a shadow appeared behind her and she stiffened, staying motionless as the shadow took the form of a woman in a light blue flowing gown. The woman waved her arm in slow motion indicating that Marin should follow her. Breaking eye contact with the reflection, Marin slowly turned and faced the apparition, watching as her body floated in mid-air all the while waving her arm for Marin to follow. In her mind, Marin moved closer to the woman but when she was within arm's reach, the woman floated further and further away. Following her, Marin watched as the woman continued on, always out of arm's reach until she came to rest. Suddenly, Marin was looking down at her and realized what the woman wanted her to see. She was lying on train tracks! Marin gasped, and looked to her left and saw someone running away just as a train came barreling down the tracks. Screaming, she came out of the vision just before the train ran over the woman. She gasped for air, nervously glancing around her bathroom. She moved over to the claw-foot tub and sat down on the edge, her heart pounding as she took deep breaths. She tried to recall the woman's face but hadn't seen it clearly, and had no idea who she was or why she had shown Marin the end of her life. Trying to shake off the feeling of despair, Marin walked back over to the sink and with shaking hands, splashed cold water on her pale face. So much for makeup she thought staring in the mirror. When a measure of calm returned, she tried pushing the image from her mind but it was too horrible. Just thinking about the woman getting run over by a train was seared into her brain. Jesus, God, what a horrible ending. If the woman wanted her help, Marin needed more clarification before she could do anything, if there was anything to do.

Downstairs in the kitchen she unplugged her cell phone from the charger on the counter and put it in her purse. Apprehensive, she looked around for the apparition to reappear and was relieved when it did not. Leaving by the backdoor, she set the alarm and went out to the garage and got in her car. The air was still, not a bit of wind, and it hadn't rained in weeks. The landscaped looked dry and in need of watering around the pool, and even though the sprinklers swished around the yard every night, it wasn't enough. Backing out of the driveway, she made a mental note to adjust the sprinkler settings.

She drove the fifty yards or so to Megan's driveway and honked. After waiting a few minutes for Megan to come out, she glanced at her watch thinking maybe she was on the phone. Her sister was taking the day off from work to help her today. Marin went to the front door and unlocked it with her spare key. Shutting the door behind her, she reset the alarm.

Megan? She called out from the entryway. Let's go.

When she didn't get an answer to her shout-out, Marin walked through the house. Not finding her, she went to the stairs, listening for sounds that her sister was in the house while wishing she had brought her cell phone from the car. Where would she have gone? With Marc having escaped and on the run, they were all a little uneasy that he would come back to Carrington Estates even though Oliver had assured them he wouldn't be that stupid. At the top of the stairs, she entered her sister's bedroom. All traces of Marc had been removed from the room. She and Megan had packed his belongings and donated them to Catholic charities after his arrest last year.

Walking through the bedroom, she found her sister in the bathroom in front of the sink with a toothbrush in her hand, frozen midway to her mouth. Immediately, Marin recognized her sister was in a hypnotic state. She stood in the doorway, staring at Megan's reflection in the large mirror above the counter, knowing she didn't see her. Her eyes were glazed over… and she had a faraway look on her face as if she was lost in thought. Marin sucked in her breath sharply as Megan's eyes clouded over, changing from emerald green to an opaque gray.

Megan gulped in air, taking deep breaths, turning to her sister's stunned expression. Oh, no! Megan whispered. The onslaught of cold air seeped into her bones causing her to shiver, or maybe it was fear.

Marin noticed her sister's eyes were glassy… but green again and her face was chalky white.

What is it? What did you see? Marin's heart was racing. She'd never seen her sister's eyes change color.

Megan rubbed her hands over her arms. Oh God, something horrible has happened.

To who?

I don't know, Megan whispered.

Did you see a woman on train tracks getting run over by a train? Usually, the visions started with her and then Megan picked up on them. Their visions worked like mental telepathy and they tended to feed off each other and it had little to do with the fact they were identical twins. Their mother and grandmother were both psychics.

No. I didn't see anything like that. I saw a lot of blood.

Megan quickly finished brushing her teeth and then rinsed her mouth with mouth wash.

And you don't think a woman getting run over by a train wouldn't yield a lot of blood?

Megan glanced at her sister in the mirror as she reached for a towel to wipe her mouth. Not unless it's near the school. Come on! We need to go.

Marin followed her sister down the stairs and out to the car. The school? She didn't know of any trains near the school. Maybe her sister was seeing something else.

Does it have anything to do with the girls? Marin asked getting into the car.

I don't think so but I heard something that sounded very much like a prayer being recited, like the kind we used to say in school.

In the car, Marin noticed Megan's hands were shaking. She reached over and squeezed her hand. It was cold.

Can't you go any faster?

Not unless I want to get a ticket. Marin glanced at her sister as she pulled up to a red light and stopped. Her emerald green eyes above her slender nose were overly shiny, as if she were on the brink of tears and her face had lost all color.

Tell me, Marin said.

Someone's trying to show me something. What about the woman on the train tracks? When did that start?

This morning but there's not much to tell really. A woman showed me she was tied down to train tracks and then I saw someone running away just as the train came. It's obviously a murder but… I don't know where these tracks are and I don't know of any by the school. Do you think they could be related?

I'm sure they are but I haven't a clue how. I hate it when you see bits and pieces. It's like walking in the dark with a candle for light but the flame only gives you a glimpse of what's around you. Megan said anxiously. I knew I should have gone to work today. I don't know why I let you talk me into volunteering at the school. Part of her had a burning desire to get to the school quickly but another part wanted to go back home.

Well I'm glad you didn't. I need all the help I can get. She tried to get her mind off their visions. Maybe taking a step back from it would help clarify what they'd seen. Do you remember Sister Laurel?

Yes, Megan replied, glancing at her sister. I remember she was mean. She slapped my butt with a ruler for having the hiccups.

Marin smiled at the memory. Well, you'll be glad to know she retired. She went to the monastery on Lake Maurepas.

Are you still volunteering with the psychos up there?

Twice a week, I read to the patients at the sanitarium. I like doing it and they're not psychos.

If you say so. I'm glad they put Sister Laurel out to pasture. My girls don't like her any more than I did. In my opinion, the older nuns shouldn't be allowed to teach.

Well we're meeting Sister Cecilia Clare today. She's taking over the carnival this year for Sister Laurel and she's really very sweet.

Blood! So much blood! Megan cringed. "Thanks for changing the subject but you need to go faster."

CHAPTER 3

Marin turned the corner at Sacred Heart Hospital and pulled her BMW into the St. Catherine's School parking lot, next to the hospital, the same as she did every morning when she drove the girls to school and picked them up in the afternoon. Entering the building, they picked up their pace, looking in doors. The main hallway was where Olivia and Sam's classrooms were located but they had to go to another section of the school to check on Alex. Everything appeared normal in all the classrooms they passed.

I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, Megan said slowing her pace. Her hands were shaking again and she was cold. I was so sure the blood I saw was here.

But you also said it didn't involve the girls, which is good. We're just checking that's all.

They went to the front office where Sister Abigail was in charge, and where parents were to check in.

Hi Sister, Marin greeted the nun, mustering a smile she didn't feel. "Megan and I