The Export J.K. Kelly (best way to read e books .TXT) 📖

on the light sport coat the aide had brought. Matt grabbed his two bags and walked straight to Dale, stopping a foot from her. He wanted to kiss her goodbye, but the look on her face, despite the love in her eyes, reminded him of her boundaries.

“We keep getting drawn to one another,” she said softly, “sent toward each other, Matt, but you need to remember. As long as we’re both doing this work, carrying guns and chasing bad guys, we can’t be together.”

He continued to look into her eyes, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek good-bye. Moments later, the door to her condo closed behind him, and he was on his way.

One of the security agents tossed Matt a set of keys and pointed to a dark-blue Chevy Malibu parked in the garage. Tossing the bags in the backseat, Matt jumped in, buckled up, and drove out into the early morning. He headed north toward NSA headquarters in Fort Meade, Maryland, by way of the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. Instead of continuing straight north, he exited at Route 50 and headed east toward Annapolis. That was familiar territory to him – he knew the ways in and out of town and wanted to schedule two appointments before he put his exit plan into play.

First, he called DNI in McLean and and spoke with Coleman’s second-in-command, Freddie Morrison. After they talked through what had happened, Morrison cut to the chase.

“You didn’t call just to hear how sorry I am about Helene,” he stated. “What can I help you with, Matt?

“Can you meet me in Annapolis, at the Irish pub on Maryland Avenue, just off the circle, at noon?” he asked. “It’s important.”

“I’ve got meetings all day at the NSA,” he stated, “Can’t you come here?”

Matt understood but pushed for the pub meet. “It’s best, considering what I have seen recently. We need to meet away from any offices,” he added. “Cloak-and-dagger stuff, if you catch my drift.”

Morrison didn’t respond right away. Perhaps he was checking his schedule or assembling a team to go with him, in case something was amiss.

“Make it 12:30, and I’ll see you there.”

Matt smiled. A few years back, when Matt became a pawn in a power play between the intelligence agencies, a few senators on the intelligence committee, and the White House, it was Morrison who had sided with Coleman. He had been the one who suggested the export-only status for Matt that settled the matter, at least for the time being and the current administration.

“Thanks, Freddie, see you there.”

Matt smiled again as he continued the drive. Despite the bright sunlight blinding other drivers, he enjoyed its warmth and took the time to appreciate being able to see it again. After all, just hours before, someone had tried to kill him.

He drove into town and found a parking spot, which surprised him because vacationers, summer tourists, and families visiting the cadets at the Naval Academy usually scooped up every spot, all season long.

He took a few minutes to search for something in his phone and then set out to conduct some personal business. He kept the jacket on and the gun in place. He’d watched the rearview mirror along the way, looking for a tail, but told himself to tamp down the paranoia. After all, if any agency was involved, with all the electronics in the phones, the cars, the drones, and the CCTV cameras, anyone with the right clearance could be on him anywhere he went. And, if the two from last night were just hired thugs, they were probably – hopefully – already on their way back to Britain. They’d meet again, though. Matt would make sure of that.

He walked into a small office located on East Street and introduced himself to the receptionist. “I don’t have an appointment, but I need to see a lawyer as quickly as possible,” he told the girl.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Cleary doesn’t have an opening today. Perhaps you can schedule something for tomorrow.” She checked her computer. “Yes, he’s available at ten and then again at three. Which works better for you?” she asked.

“Neither,” Matt said abruptly. He had to get this task taken care of, and it had to happen now.

“Tell Mr. Cleary, or any other lawyer you have here this morning, that I will pay $5,000, cash, for one hour of their time – if it can happen now.”

“Alrighty then,” she responded with an awkward smile. “Give me just a minute.”

Matt looked around at the waiting room. There were plenty of chairs, but no one else waiting. This won’t take long, he thought. Let’s see if five grand is still five grand.

When the receptionist returned with a broad smile, he had his answer and returned it with one of his own.

“Let me show you back.” She led him down a short hall and into Cleary’s office. “He’ll be right with you. Please make yourself comfortable. If I can get you anything…”

“Coffee, light and sweet, please.” Matt waited for no more than two minutes before the coffee, in Cleary’s hand, arrived. They shook hands, and then the attorney walked around his desk and sat down in a red, high-back leather chair. The smell of fresh coffee made Matt relax, but he noticed something else that he found troublesome.

“You like cigars, wonderful!” Matt said sarcastically. Matt didn’t mind pipes or cigars. He just hated cheap tobacco. For a man who could afford an office in downtown Annapolis, he was surprised at the stench. Cleary laughed and apologized.

“Not to everyone’s liking, I know. We can move into a conference room where I don’t allow myself a puff, if you wish.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s okay, this won’t take long.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew an envelope, and leaned forward to hand it to Cleary. A quick stop on the way had allowed Matt to withdraw $20,000 dollars, in hundreds, for pocket money.

“Should that gun worry me?” Cleary asked, noticing the butt of the Glock sticking out of Matt’s