Will had just finished listening to the phone call that Reed Logan had on a line that was scrambled by NSA technology. In seconds, Slim had identified the man on the other end of the call. Will wanted to be shocked, but, since he was introduced to Slim, less and less fell into that category.
Slim carefully monitored all of Logan’s digital records and those of the man he had called. It wasn’t long before a clear picture developed and the identity of Jacques Beaumont, a.k.a. Black Jack, was revealed.
Will decided that it was time to pay a brief visit to Black Jack to establish some ground rules. He put the RV in stealth mirror mode and engaged the super flight application. In a very short time the RV was hovering outside of a luxurious penthouse in Monaco, one of many residences that Black Jack maintained. His silver Rolls Royce was parked at the valet stand below, which could be seen from his balcony.
Black Jack was entertaining a young woman. He was seducing her with wine and cocaine. He’d bed her when he was ready. Whatever he desired was always at his beck and call. Black Jack was a man that was always in control.
His landline rang, but he ignored it. He was too busy. Then, his special cell phone rang that was only accessed by his chief of operations.
“Excuse me my darling, I’ll dispatch this intrusion.”
He picked it up and answered it. “Yes. This better be good.”
“I’ve heard that you are looking for me,” the mechanical sounding voice said.
Jack was caught off guard. “And who may I ask is calling?”
“A man with a message for you.”
“What shall I call you?” Jack asked.
“You can call me Game Changer.”
“Cute. I don’t play games,” Jack said through gritted teeth.
“Neither do I. Go to your balcony and look down at your message.”
Jack walked to edge of the balcony and looked down. He could see his elegant car safely parked and waiting for him. “Do you plan to damage my car,” Jack said with disgust.
“Yes.”
Just then, the Rolls Royce turned into a pile of dust. Jack felt tightness in his chest. “What do you want?” he asked a little too fast.
“If you continue to irritate me, or if I find that you were responsible for the death of Dr. Grace, I will make sure that you are in the car the next time. I hope I’ve made myself clear.”
“Extremely,” Jack said as the call terminated. His hands were shaking.
Cal Dixon was wrapping things up at his desk when his cell chirped. He looked down at a text.
Good Evening,
I have news. Get the president and take him to his private office. Please wait a few minutes until he finishes the baked Alaska. I know it’s his favorite.
Regards,
Game Changer
Dixon had the president notified that a matter of great importance required his attention.
President Jarrett turned the corner and saw Dixon standing at the door to the oval office. They walked through it to his small personal office.
“Game Changer has news,” Dixon said before the president asked him what this was about. “He also wanted to wait until you finished your baked Alaska.”
“Sweet Jesus!” the president responded.
Dixon’s phone rang and he put it on speaker. “Mr. President and Mr. Dixon, thank you for taking the time.”
“What do you have?” President Jarrett asked.
“It appears that Reed Logan, a contractor, is operating under the direction of the Secretary of Homeland Security, Kelsey Osgood. Logan just murdered General Larkin at his direction.”
Jarrett jumped up. “Kelsey Osgood? Good god!”
Dixon didn’t miss a beat. “Why would he do that?”
“That’s a good question, Mr. Dixon. The answer is that Osgood is on the payroll of Jacques Beaumont, who you know as Black Jack.”
The room went silent as Jarrett and Dixon adjusted to the news. Finally, the president spoke. “This is just horrible.”
“You have proof of this?” Dixon asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes,” Will answered. “I’ve sent a file to each of your encrypted accounts that is loaded with irrefutable proof. Also, Black Jack’s financial information is there for you to use as well.”
“Do you know how to find this Black Jack?” the president asked.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I gave him a personal message.”
Dixon smiled, which was a rarity. “Did he embrace your message?”
“Yes … with alacrity.”
Both the president and Dixon enjoyed a short laugh.
The president set his jaw. “Game Changer, we owe you a debt of gratitude, and so does this country, but I can’t tell the world about you, not yet anyway.”
“That’s fine with me Mr. President.”
“And if we need you again?” the president asked.
“Simply put a piece of paper with the letters GC on it in a window pane in the oval office. I’ll see it and contact you.”
“That’s very Batmanesque,” Dixon chuckled.
“Batman is so twentieth century,” Will said.
They all laughed.
“You’ll monitor the window?” Dixon asked.
“Yes.”
“That actually gives me comfort. Now, I need to go and clean house,” the president said.
“I’m at your service, sir. Just reach out, if you need me.”
“Thank you,” the president said, and then he terminated the call.
President Jarrett leaned back in his chair. “Cal, let’s get the file over to Justice. I want Logan and Osgood wrapped up tight before they know what hits them. Also, better get the AG on the phone.”
“Do you want to go after Black Jack?” Dixon asked.
“Let’s get our house in order first. Something tells me … that Game Changer has Black Jack’s full attention, so we can take our time.”
Dixon laughed. “I agree, Mr. President.”