Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

Lars had them killed or did the dirty work himself. Fantroy always wondered just how the old man orchestrated those events and, if he did it himself, had he enjoyed it.
    Fantroy opened his mouth to ask how Lars got inside his house but then remembered who was guarding the back door. It was a British military guard who had been initiated into The Group’s service core. His standing orders of granting access to any Group member at any time allowed members to meet with their political director knowing that their conversations would remain private inside the secure walls of the prime minister’s residence.
    “I received a call from James Trotter late last night,” Lars declared.
    Fantroy crossed the closet and grabbed four different colored ties as he tried to kick start his memory. James Trotter … James Trotter …
    “You mean Jimmy Trotter? Booker Halsey’s … protégé?”
    “Correct,” Lars replied, his heavy Swiss accent echoing across the bedroom and into the closet.
    Fantroy stepped toward the open suitcase on his bed. He rolled each tie in tight circles and then placed them inside the suitcase. He recalled the time when Senator Booker Halsey approached The Group over two decades ago with a new method of selecting their foot soldiers. At the time, Booker was the vice chairman of the U.S. Senate’s Select Committee on Intelligence. He was given a copy of a new testing procedure that both the NSA and the CIA were using for new spy recruits. The tests were basically personality tests with one exception: they focused on the person’s individual frustrations. If they didn’t trust authority figures, if they weren’t satisfied with the status quo, if they had unbridled ambition, if they were easily seduced by women or money—all of these factors would make them excellent spies. They would do anything for the people who gave them what they wanted.
    The Group immediately made those tests the center of the admission procedure for their own spies inside various industries. One of the first guinea pigs for these tests was Jimmy Trotter. He was a failed Texas oilman who was nearly bankrupt when Senator Booker Halsey sat him down for a conversation and to take a few simple tests that would change his life forever.
    “What did he want?” Fantroy asked Lars.
    “He wanted to relay some disturbing information.” Fantroy stopped packing his suitcase and stared at Lars. Lars finally stood up straight, his frame eclipsing the entire doorway. “Booker Halsey is dead.”
    Fantroy felt his knees buckling, but he willed all of his energy into steadying his legs. Thoughts of damage control blurred in Fantroy’s mind. What would this mean for The Group? Most important, how could they sever all ties to Senator Halsey?
    “Who’s being blamed?” Fantroy asked.
    Lars walked toward Fantroy and dug into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to him.
    “I believe you know of the suspect,” Lars replied.
    Fantroy unfurled the paper and stared at the news article that Lars had printed off the Times website.
    U.S. Senator Dead. Fugitive Texas Ranger Suspect.
    Fantroy scanned through the half page of information. The Times had ascertained the same information about Danny Cavanaugh that Stefan Taber had relayed to him. Cavanaugh was a lawman on the run for murder. Make that two murders now.
    “Have you heard anything from your boy Taber?” Fantroy asked.
    Lars shook his head. “Not a word.”
    Fantroy stared at the article, while he reflected on the events The Group had engineered to get to this point. He was the one who had worked Hideo Akimoto’s theory about bankrupting the United States and thus the world, while cornering the global gold market, into a doable plan. Fantroy had initially suggested the lawsuit idea after Dexter Walsh was appointed Fed chairman. After he was Booker Halsey’s guest for an impossibly successful quail hunting trip down at the Mexican monastery, Fantroy was also the one who convinced Nathan Broederlam to take his chamber down there for unmatched privacy to try and convince the other chamber members of the lawsuit’s viability. Now Halsey was dead. Sydney Dumas was still on the loose, and no one had a clue what she knew. Plus, none of the other Group members knew who planted the nuclear bombs in Washington, D.C., at least none who were willing to confess at the Westbury Hotel meeting.
    “Do you think Taber’s a lost cause?” Fantroy asked.
    “Taber’s a