The Last Protector(Clayton White #1)(48)

“Why Veronica? What does she have to do with all of this?” he asked.

“Nothing, except that she’s my only daughter,” Hammond replied.

“Then what have you done to him to warrant his wrath?”

“Because I was Maxwell’s commanding officer, Oxley came to me for help when your dad recommended that charges be brought against him. I refused to even listen to him.”

White took a moment to digest what Hammond had said. Then he changed the subject. “Did you send the three CID agents to Palo Alto?”

“A friend of mine did, as a favor.”

“General Girdner?”

“Yes,” Hammond replied. “After the attack at the Ritz, I thought it would be prudent to send someone to secure the SkyCU office since it’s one of the places Veronica visits often. Clearly I was right to think so, since the CID team was ambushed.”

“Someone must have been waiting inside,” White said. “They were all shot in the head, but one of them had also been shot twice in the chest. All of it before they could even draw their own firearms.”

“Oxley is resourceful, and dangerous.” Hammond said. “He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”

“Veronica.”

“Yes,” Hammond conceded. “Veronica.”

“So what do you want me to do, sir?”

“Oxley currently lives in South Africa,” Hammond explained. “Among other business interests, he owns and operates Oxley International Shipping Lines. Does Le Groupe Avanti ring a bell?”

“The French shipping company?” White asked.

Hammond nodded.

“I’ve seen their blue container ships in ports around the world,” White said. “They’re hard to miss.”

“Well, listen to this,” Hammond said. “I’ve learned that Le Groupe Avanti is seriously considering buying Oxley International Shipping Lines for a considerable sum. I’m talking about a ten-figure deal here.”

White considered this. “You think he’ll use the money to finance terrorism?”

Hammond placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Either that or another operation on US soil, like the Ritz-Carlton one.”

“Am I heading to South Africa?” White asked.

“I want you there ASAP. I need you to do a reconnaissance and to establish a pattern of life on Roy Oxley. Once you’ve done that, you’ll have the opportunity to participate in the takedown.”

“A takedown?” White asked, raising an eyebrow.

“His assassination.”

White didn’t even flinch. He was glad Hammond had asked him to do that. In White’s book, this wasn’t murder. This was a legitimate operation against a clear and present danger to the United States.

“Is that why you won’t push for my reinstatement with the Secret Service, sir?” White asked.

“It is.”

“Okay, then,” White simply said.

Hammond nodded. “I’ll be your only contact,” he said. “You won’t be talking about this to anyone else. For the first phase of the operation, you’ll be operating with limited support. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hammond opened his briefcase, from which he pulled out a cell phone.

“I want you to take this,” he said, pushing it toward White. “It’s the best the NSA had readily available. It’s totally secured. There are two numbers already programmed.”

“Yours and who else’s?” asked White.

“Someone I trust, and who’ll be able to provide you with some guidance once you’re in South Africa.”

White inspected the device from every angle. It was black and looked like a regular cell phone, but it was much heavier. “Who else knows about this?” he asked.

“For now, no one.”

“What if my supervisor tries to—”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” Hammond said. “As of zero six hundred this morning, you’re the new special envoy to the vice president-elect. Congratulations.”

“So, does that mean I’m officially done with the Secret Service?”

“For now, but my office pays better anyway,” Hammond said, looking at his watch. “You’ll receive what’s equivalent to a deputy director salary.”

White remained silent, stunned at how quickly his situation had changed in the last twelve hours. White ran his fingers through his hair, contemplating the situation he found himself in. He had promised Veronica he’d find whoever was responsible for yesterday’s attack. This was his chance. Working directly for Hammond gave him the flexibility required to execute the mission. And there was that significant bump in pay too. He did have a wedding to pay for.

“What’s the next step?” White asked.

Hammond beamed and tapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Clay,” he said. “Here’s what I suggest we do.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


San Francisco, California

One hour later, White was still stunned by his conversation with Alexander Hammond. He had to give it to Hammond, though; the man had played his cards well. By forcing White to sign a nondisclosure agreement prior to their conversation, his future father-in-law had placed him in an unsustainable situation. The fact that he couldn’t discuss with Veronica what he’d learned from their meeting made him sick to his stomach. Hiding things from one’s fiancée wasn’t the best way to keep a strong and healthy relationship. White understood that in the interest of national security some things had to be off limits to civilians—that was simply common sense. But what made him uneasy about the troubling intelligence Hammond had revealed to him was that it directly involved Veronica.