Free The Cabal by David Hagberg

something called Littoral Associates, Ltd., which had been suggested by Sandberger two years ago.
    The FC: Pentagon file contained similar lists of payments to several important generals in various accounts, mostly in Switzerland.
    The FC: Atlanta file contained a detailed account of a highly complex and still ongoing program of gerrymandering that to this point hadresulted in swinging seven of Georgia’s districts from solid Democrat to Republican. The manipulations had not helped in the last presidential election, but there was little doubt in Remington’s mind that given time the political climate in the state would change. It was about the long term, something Remington and Sandberger had not discussed in any detail. Admin’s job, vis-à-vis the Friday Club, was to provide security. Keep the media at bay. Keep the walls unbreached.
    Keep a lid on investigators like Givens and his friend Van Buren.
    But this now, this information in the reporter’s computer went beyond the pale. Givens had gotten far too close.
    Remington telephoned Sandberger’s sat phone, which was answered on the second ring.
    “Yes.”
    “It’s Gordon, we need to talk.”
    “Trouble?” Sandberger asked without hesitation.
    “It has the potential.”
    “I’ll be at the Steigenberger, first thing in the morning.”
    “See you then,” Remington said, and he phoned his night office number to arrange for his travel to Frankfurt in such a way that he would not miss Senator Worley’s reception or the do at the Chinese embassy.

TWELVE

    It was ten in the evening when McGarvey’s cell phone vibrated silently in his pocket. Katy had been transferred to one of the rooms in the visiting VIP building and he’d been sitting next to her bed for the past three hours watching her troubled sleep. He wanted to reach out to her with more than just a touch; he wanted to let her inside his soulso that she could see exactly who he was. No artifice, no hiding of any truth no matter how ugly, just his real self with all the complexities and contradictions of a man who had lived the life he had.
    He went out into the corridor and answered the call, the ID was blank but he knew that it was Otto. “What do you have for me?”
    “How’re Mrs. M and Elizabeth?”
    “Both sleeping.”
    “How about you?” Otto asked, an edginess to his voice. He was worried, just as everyone was, which way McGarvey was going to jump. Because Mac was going to jump and everybody knew it.
    “Impatient,” McGarvey said. He was being short with his friend, but he couldn’t wait around down here much longer. He was on the verge of exploding, and yet he knew that he had to hang on; when the shit started to happen it would have to be done right. He wasn’t going to lose his life because he had blinders on and was rushing things.
    “Sandberger’s in Baghdad, but his pilot filed a flight plan for Frankfurt. Apparently it’s a layover, because no flight plan has been filed beyond that.”
    “Any idea where he’ll be staying? Or for how long?”
    “He’s been to Frankfurt four times in the past two years. Twice he’s disappeared into the city, apparently staying someplace other than a hotel, and the other two times he’s stayed at the Steigenberger Airport Hotel, each time for one night only.”
    “Bodyguards?”
    “He almost always travels with muscle, and over the past eighteen months or so it’s been the same two. Carl Alphonse, who was a New York City SWAT team commander until he retired to go to work for Admin, and Brody Hanson, who was kicked out of Delta Forces for reason or reasons unknown, except that he was discharged an E-7 under other than honorable conditions. Both men had the highest grades for marksmanship, hand-to-hand, infiltration, and exfiltration—about what you’d expect from guys like these.”
    “Any idea why he’s flying out to Germany all of a sudden?” McGarvey asked. “Meeting someone?”
    “My guess would be Remington, but I’m not