The Toymaker by Chuck Barrett Read Free Book Online

the cart and motioned to take Jake’s bag. “Director Bentley, Mr. Pendleton, Welcome to Wrangler’s Steakhouse. If you’ll hop in, I’ll take you to your table.”
    Cowboy tucked Jake’s bag away in a covered trunk on the rear of the cart. The cart’s seats were made of plush leather with studs securing it around the thick padding. Tassels hung from the outside of each seat and whipped in the wind as the cart pulled away from the hangar.
    Jake ran his hand across the leather. “Is everything here this nice?”
    Bentley kept looking forward, “E. W. doesn’t do anything half-ass.”
    The cart pulled under a thatch portico attached to the large adobe style building. Jake counted five parking lots, two of which were full. He glanced at his watch, “A lot of people for lunch, I hope we have a reservation.”
     “This is nothing," Cowboy said. "Wait til suppertime. It’s Friday night, all seven lots will be full and there’ll be a good two-hour wait for a table. Happens every weekend. Holidays are worse.”
    “Seven parking lots? I only counted five.”
    Cowboy pointed to a hill behind the restaurant. “Two larger ones beyond that ridge.”
    Jake turned to Bentley, “Will I be staying here tonight?”
    “No.”
    “Mr. Pendleton, I’ll deliver your bag to you this afternoon.” Cowboy pointed toward the glass entryway. “Right this way gentlemen.”
    Cowboy took them to a table in an empty part of the restaurant, “Your waiter will be right with you.”
    Jake’s curiosity grew until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Sir, what’s going on?”
    Bentley placed his portfolio on the edge of the table. “You promised me you’d control yourself in Australia…yet you didn’t.”
    Jake inhaled to speak but Bentley’s finger was in the air signaling him to remain quiet.
    “I realize you thought you were saving the woman. She was undercover, sent to infiltrate Yasir’s camp. She’s a South Korean posing as a North Korean arms dealer. It took her nearly six months to gain Yasir’s trust. She was supposed to arrange a weapons transfer for Khan. Her intel indicated that Yasir’s camp was one of three cells planning attacks around the world. She claims she tried to stop you, our link to Khan is dead and we don’t know what other cities are targeted. Now we might not be able to stop the attack or attacks.”
    “Sir, it all happened so fast. By the time I realized what she was saying, Yasir was already dead. I thought she would be more useful to us than Yasir. I had no idea a plant was in the camp.”
    “That’s why you follow orders. You don’t have the bigger picture.” Bentley paused. “Are you familiar with Senator Richard Boden, Committee Chairman for Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs?”
    “The old man with Donald Trump hair who's always chewing gum?” Jake nodded. “Yes sir, I know who he is.”
    “He wants me to hand you over to him. He has so much as ordered me to do so. He wants to make an example of you. Drag you through the coals publicly and then lock you away. I won’t let that happen. Not to any of my operatives. I take orders from the President, not Boden. So I’m putting you someplace where you can lay low. Let this whole thing blow over, and sooner or later it will blow over.”
    Bentley unrolled his cloth napkin, placed it in his lap, and rearranged his silverware on the table. “Things have changed, Jake. Times have changed. The Clandestine Service is not what it once was. Society has trouble accepting what we do. Congress is slowly neutering the CIA. Everyday we lose power and prestige. The People want things done, want to feel safe and secure, but they don’t want to know the truth. Do you understand what I’m saying, Jake?”
    “I think so, sir. The good ol' days are gone and the wheels of bureaucracy are grinding the company train to a halt.”
    “Crude…but accurate. In many ways, we’ve already ground to a halt. More and more covert operations are being