Daylight

by David Baldacci

  Puller said, “And with the underage sex, like what happened with Jewel Blake, that would not only kill someone’s reputation, it’s also a felony.”

  “I just want to know how Nora Franklin fits into this. And Adam Gorman.”

  “I spoke briefly with Bobby about Gorman. He mentioned something in his background had set off warning bells, he just didn’t tell me what.”

  “Look, are you sure you’re feeling well enough to deal with this?”

  “I’ll be thinking about it whether I’m doing it with you or not.”

  “Then I’ll be at the hospital in about twenty minutes.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” replied Puller.

  When Pine hurried into Puller’s hospital room, he was sitting up in bed and looking at his phone.

  “First, how are you feeling? Really? And don’t bullshit me,” added Pine as she sat down next to the bed.

  “I can’t jump tall buildings in a single bound right now, but I don’t have to.” He held up his phone. “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “Read it.”

  Pine read down the screens for about a minute and then looked up.

  “Nora Franklin’s opponent in her last election dropped out at the last minute even though he was ahead in the polls. She ran unopposed and won reelection. There was no explanation given by her opponent except to say it was a personal decision.”

  Puller nodded. “I think we might have drilled down to what that personal decision might have been.”

  “You think he was a visitor to the penthouse?”

  “I wouldn’t bet against it. And I’m wondering what she’s done to repay ‘them’ for winning the election for her?”

  “And how many other Nora Franklins are out there?”

  Puller said, “And I doubt it’s just politicians. You can have judges, bureaucrats, cops, military, CEOs, folks in the media, and a slew of other targets.”

  “And maybe that explains why a four-star got reassigned and you got shoved off the case and the local police cut us off and every other infuriating thing that’s happened.”

  “It would explain a lot,” agreed Puller.

  “Axilrod said something to Tony that made me pause. She used the term ‘blowback.’ He called her out on that, in a joking way, saying she sounded like a spy.”

  “Spies, huh? Any word on your APB?” asked Puller anxiously.

  “No.”

  “Then I might have to call in some reinforcements.”

  “From where?”

  “You can leave that to me.”

  “No, I want to be part of the hunt. At the very least I want to get to Lindsey Axilrod.”

  “Okay. But I need to make some calls.”

  “While you do that, I need to make a call, too.”

  “Who to?”

  “To a man who said if I needed a favor, to give him a ring. Well, I think it’s time I called in that favor.”

  CHAPTER

  62

  THERE WERE EXHALATIONS OF BREATH mingled with the dripping of water coming from somewhere. There was consistency in the sounds, but no comfort.

  Robert Puller looked down at his feet and winced a bit as the movement made the injuries in his shoulder and arm throb even more. They had interrogated him efficiently if not effectively. He was sure they would try again, with even harsher techniques. He was not looking forward to that. The car had driven them to a van in an underground garage somewhere on the outskirts of the city; the van had tinted windows. They had been restrained, and bags had been placed over their heads. They had driven around for about an hour. Then they had been taken from the van and hustled into somewhere; he didn’t know where. The bags had not been taken off until they were inside. Blum had been taken somewhere else. A classic “divide and crush the confidence” technique.

  Punching him in the face, cranking his arm behind his shoulder until nearly the breaking point, and breaking two of his fingers, they had questioned him for about an hour. He had no idea who the questioners were; Gorman was not among them.

  He had thrown up during the course of the interrogation and had noted with some amount of satisfaction that he had sent his inquisitors jumping and diving out of the way from his projectile vomiting. That had been worth the two punches in the face he had gotten as punishment.

  He had been called every filthy name in the book and been threatened in every way imaginable. That had been simple to endure. He merely did math calculations in his head while they were verbally pummeling him. That had been harder to do when the punches started flying, but he had done the best he could.

  Puller had received SERE training during his time in uniform. That stood for “survival, evasion, resistance, and escape.” Well, he had failed miserably in evading, resistance had gotten the crap kicked out of him, and he saw no way of escape.

  So focus on survival.

  Now he sat staring at a grimy floor and hoping that someone would come to help him.

  He had endured years in prison for a crime of which he was innocent. But this was different. Those guarding him then were never going to kill him.

  These men clearly were.

  He had mentioned Nora Franklin’s name once, after a question about what he was doing at the hotel with Blum.

  “I hope Nora was worth what’s going to happen to you assholes,” he had said. This had gotten him a smack in the jaw by a man about the size of a small car that had knocked him out of his chair.

  Now he sat slumped over, waiting for them to come back.

  “Do you want to die? Because we will kill you.”

  The man towered over Carol Blum, who sat at a small table. Her shoes and jacket had been taken from her, and she was shivering, because the room was icy cold. The three men in here were all wearing overcoats.

  Blum was scared, more scared than she’d ever been. She had the unshakable feeling that her life was about to end.

  Blum looked up at him and said quietly, her voice trembling, “You’re going to kill me anyway, so what does it matter?”

  The men held up her FBI credentials.

  “You are in admin. A secretary,” he added derisively.

  “I prefer the term ‘support personnel.’ ”

  That earned her a backhanded slap across the face that would have knocked her out of her chair if a second man had not held her in place. She choked back blood and tears. She was shaking uncontrollably and moaning in pain.

  “Okay, have it your way, support personnel,” said the man. “How did you learn about Ms. Franklin and Mr. Gorman?”

  Through the one eye she could see out of, Blum stared at him. And then anger swelled up inside her. If she was going to die, she was not going out meekly. She felt her spine stiffen and her composure return. “The Bureau knows everything. All of you are in imminent danger of arrest.”

  “You are lying.” He raised his hand to strike her again.

  “Hitting a woman nearly twice your age won’t take away the truth of what I just said. And if a lowly ‘support personnel’ knows as much as I do, what do you think the actual agents know?”

  One man said, “Agents? How about one agent. Atlee Pine.”

  Blum was ready for that one. “And Army CID?”

  “John Puller is no longer on the case.”

  “Do you really think he’s the only agent CID has?”

  “That has been taken care of. And if the Bureau was all over it, why have a secretary conducting surveillance?”

  “Absolutely right. If I’m just a secretary.”

  “You are too old to be anything else.”

  “Absolutely right again. I’m just a secretary, nothing more. And I am with the FBI, no one else.”

  The man started to say something and then he stopped and stared warily at her. “What does that mean? ‘No one else’?”

  Now Blum allowed herself to look confused and uncertain. “N-nothing. I . . . I just meant what I said.”

  The man looked at his colleagu
es and started speaking in a language Blum didn’t understand. But what she could see were their clear expressions of concern.

  One of the men nodded and looked at Blum. “Who do you work for?”

  “I told you. The FBI.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I work for no other agency.” Blum feigned alarm when she said the last word.

  The man looked at her triumphantly. “No other agency? Bullshit.” He leaned down so they were eye to eye. “Tell me who you’re really working for. Don’t lie to me.”

  Blum looked back at him stubbornly but said nothing else.

  “All right. We will be back to talk to you. And then you will provide the answers we require about you and the man in uniform. Or you will die. Do you understand?”

  Blum pursed her lips and looked down.

  The men filed out and locked the door behind them.

  It was only then that Blum looked up. Her subterfuge had bought them a little time, but that was all. She felt her spine grow soft once more as nearly all hope bled out of her.

  Please, Agent Pine, please find us before it’s too late.

  CHAPTER

  63

  PINE WAS SITTING IN HER RENTAL CAR. She had been speaking into the phone uninterrupted for nearly twenty minutes. Now she let out a long breath and waited. And waited . . .

  Finally, Clint Dobbs, the head of the FBI branch in Arizona said, “Holy shit, Pine. You sure don’t do anything by half measures.”

  “No, sir. Just doesn’t seem to be my fate in life.”

  “Just so I get this straight, you’re actually saying there is a blackmail operation that may reach into the highest levels of this government and then spreads out like a spider’s web to God knows where? And the people being blackmailed are presumably doing things to help the blackmailers, using their positions of authority?”

  “I don’t think the facts can be explained any other way. And now Carol is missing along with John Puller’s brother.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “You said you witnessed Gorman as the shooter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll need an affidavit to that effect. That’ll help me get the ball rolling.”

  “I’ll get it to you ASAP.”

  “Nora Franklin? I’ve testified before committees she’s on. I’ve socialized with her. I can’t believe she would be involved in something like this.”

  “I’m sure, sir. But the fact is she’s up to her eyeballs in this.”

  “But you have no proof of that.”

  “They got a four-star general yanked off this assignment at the Pentagon. Puller was stonewalled at every turn on a murder investigation involving a federal agent. He was nearly killed, and the grandson of Peter Driscoll was killed. And I’ve heard nothing in the news about it. And an agent friend of mine thinks NYPD is sitting on releasing Jeff Sands’s ID as a favor to Driscoll.”

  “Are you suggesting that Senator Driscoll is involved in this, too?”

  Pine said, “I don’t know. I have no proof that he is, but if not, it’s a big coincidence his grandson is involved.”

  “And this fancy apartment in New York?”

  “Sir, I can think of no other reason to have camera equipment in bedrooms where sexual activity of a possibly criminal or professionally embarrassing nature is taking place. And Franklin’s last political opponent quit the race weeks before the election for unspecified personal reasons, even though he was leading in the polls. Who does that, sir?”

  “So you think he was blackmailed into getting out?” said Dobbs.

  “I can’t think of any other reason he would quit the race like that, just citing personal reasons.”

  “But you’d think the guy would have fought back if they tried to expose him.”

  “And what if they threatened his family?”

  “So now we’re getting into old mob techniques.”

  “Those techniques never go away because, unfortunately, they still work.”

  Dobbs said, “How many ‘leaders’ do you think they’ve compromised?”

  “I’m not sure. Vincenzo said one night he saw people being taken into and out of the place for hours. He knew they were visiting that apartment because he knew the limo driver.”

  “Preying on the weaknesses of people,” said Dobbs in a disgusted tone.

  “I have no sympathy for people having sex with underage children,” said Pine, thinking of Jewel Blake. “They deserve to have the book thrown at them. But for the others, affairs, drug use, all used for blackmail? That’s different. That’s screwing with people, destroying their lives. If they are using their influence to help, it’s under duress. I think that must be quite a guilty burden to bear, knowing that you’re selling out your own country to save yourself.”

  “I know we need to do something ASAP, Pine, but I also have to think about this. Find a strategy moving forward. We have to tread cautiously.”

  “I would be careful who you communicate with, sir. Otherwise, you might find yourself transferred to head up an RA so far in the wilderness they use tin cans strung with wire to talk.”

  “That thought had occurred to me. So, no leads on Carol?”

  “Not yet. But someone is working on it, and I will move heaven and earth to get her back safe and sound.”

  “I know you will. Hang in there, Pine. I’ll get back to you.”

  He clicked off, and for some reason Pine’s hopes immediately plummeted.

  I really can’t count on anybody to help me because who the hell knows how far this goes?

  She looked out the window at the darkened street, and her imagination raced to all sorts of terrible fates for Carol Blum and Robert Puller. She never should have brought Blum with her.

  And if I hadn’t screwed up Puller’s arrest of Tony Vincenzo, Robert Puller wouldn’t be involved in this, either.

  She was convinced that wherever Blum was, so was Robert Puller.

  Pine drove directly to the FBI’s New York Field Office, filled out an affidavit, had it notarized, then scanned it to Dobbs in Arizona. She noticed that several agents passed by and looked at her intently.

  Is something going on here I’m not aware of?

  For a panicked second she had the most horrible thought imaginable: The Bureau had also been compromised and she had been sent here by a devious Dobbs just so she could be arrested on some trumped-up charge.

  As she was pondering whether to make a run for it, a man in his fifties, tall and imposing, and dressed in a dark suit with a blue tie over a stiff white shirt, came up to her.

  “Agent Pine?”

  “Yes?” Something about the man seemed familiar. She tensed.

  “I’m Warren Graham. I’m the SAC here.”

  That’s why Pine thought she knew the man. Graham was the special agent in charge of the Bureau’s New York Field Office; it and the Field Office in DC were the top two outposts in the Bureau’s universe. He was higher in the pecking order than Clint Dobbs, by a lot.

  “I’d like to talk to you. In private.”

  Pine was led to a small conference room, and Graham shut the door.

  Pine’s heart was banging so hard, she thought she saw her shirt move.

  Graham perched on the edge of the table and said, “Clint Dobbs and I were bunkmates at Quantico. We’ve remained close friends over the years. He phoned me after you talked to him.”

  Pine put a hand against the wall to steady herself because she had no idea what was coming.

  “We’ve been looking at some of the same things you have, Pine. In fact, I’ll let you in on something. There are three other luxury apartments operating in the same manner in addition to the one that you learned of and informed Clint about.”

  “So you know what they’re doing?”

  “We believe so, yes. The Russians call it kompromat. The Saudis have another term for it, as do the Chinese.”

  “Are they
all involved in this, sir?”

  “Actually, we don’t think it’s foreign states behind this, Pine. We think it’s a private group that is doing this for the oldest reason in the book: money.”

  “Did you know about Gorman and Franklin?”

  “No, our attention had not turned to them as yet. We’re getting search warrants and surveillance authorizations as we speak.” He paused and looked chagrined. “I know Nora. I, uh, I have to say I’m surprised. I never would have suspected.”

  “I guess that’s sort of the point, sir.”

  “You are exactly right about that, Pine. And it’s another example of how in this game you are never too old to learn something new.” His brow creased. “I understand that there are two possible hostages?”

  “My assistant, Carol Blum, and Lieutenant Colonel Robert Puller with the Air Force.”

  “Gorman has them?”

  “That’s what we believe.”

  “We’ve done a quick and dirty on Gorman. Since he’s head of Nora’s security detail, he doesn’t have the level of disclosures and vetting that ordinarily takes place for staffers.”

  “Which is why they set it up that way, I’m sure.”

  “Precisely. Am I to understand that the military is also on top of the search for Colonel Puller?”

  “Yes, I believe they are. At least they’re working on it.”

  She prayed that Puller had made progress on that from his hospital bed.

  “Good. Well, Pine, you’ve done enough for now. You look dead on your feet. Go get some rest. You’ll be no good to us if you’re exhausted. It’s going to be a very busy next few days.” He paused. “And God help us if this thing turns out to be as deep as I think it is.” He took out his business card and handed it to her. “My personal cell is on there.”

  Pine left and went back to her car. She wanted to do something, anything, but there was nothing else to do right now.

  She drove back to Lineberry’s condo and dropped into bed fully clothed. She pulled out the photo of her sister and stared at it for the longest time before she fell into a tortured sleep.