by Keith Yocum
“Mmm, you know that’s a good question. She does walk funny. I don’t know if it’s a limp. Seems to have difficulty navigating tight places. Almost thought she had a bad knee. Why do you ask?”
“Well, if it’s the woman who survived the car bomb at one of our safe houses in Beirut, then you should be a little more respectful. That woman lost a foot in the blast and was buried under a ton of rubble for something like two days. Or that’s what we heard. Everyone else was killed in the blast, including the station chief and two Mossad guys.”
“That couldn’t have been Louise,” Dennis said.
“Well, maybe not. But if you ever meet the woman who survived that blast, tell her a Langley old-timer salutes her.”
✦
He often felt depressed when he was in a shopping mall, but strangely, he also longed to be there at other times. A shopping mall — especially the larger ones in the Washington, D.C. area — was an artificial city where masses of people congregated for the purpose of commerce. They offered the illusion of connecting with people, but they were in fact excellent venues to be alone without feeling alone.
Dennis sometimes ate dinner at the Cheesecake Factory in the Tysons Galleria in McLean, Virginia. The shuffling shoes of shoppers, the crying children and piped-in music muted his loneliness.
The last French fry had been consumed and a burger rested uneasily in his stomach when he raised his right hand and mock scribbled in the air for Sally, his favorite bartender. She nodded on her way by, and Dennis put his napkin on the bar.
A man sat down on the open stool to his left. “Hello there, Mr. Cunningham.”
“Oh, hello,” Dennis said as his expression quickly faded from inquisitiveness to alarm.
“You don’t mind if I call you Dennis, do you?”
“No, that’s fine, Representative Barkley. Dennis is fine.”
“Well, please call me Dan, if you don’t mind, Dennis.”
“Sure, Dan. Is this an accidental meeting,” Dennis said, scanning the crowd milling behind the bar, “or something more planned?”
“Oh, I think it’s planned. My driver is waiting outside, but you were not hard to find. My chief of staff is behind us somewhere, probably shopping for his wife. I guess you like the hamburgers here at the Cheesecake Factory.”
“Yes, I do. Thanks for asking.” Sally dropped the bill off as she whisked by.
“So how’s the investigation going?”
“What investigation?”
“Come now, Dennis. You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Sorry, but we’re not allowed to chat about work. I think you know that, sir.”
“Please call me Dan.”
“Okay, Dan, we can’t talk about our work.”
“Well, there’s one project you’re working on that I’m very interested in. You don’t have to say a thing. Just listen. This project is very, very important to me. And I’m thrilled you’re working on it.”
Dennis reached into his back pocket for his wallet, pulled out a credit card, slapped it on top of the bill and pushed it forward.
“If at any time you think there’s something going on that I should know about — something that’s not quite right in the community, feel free to let me know. Please don’t be alarmed that I’m reaching out to you like this. Your work on the Australia case showed that you have little patience for bad behavior, even if it’s on our side. I like that. We elected officials govern from a profound lack of insight into your organization. This London thing is troubling. Something is not quite right. If you find yourself with information that is troubling and would like another set of ears, please reach out to me through my chief of staff.”
Sally returned and slid the credit card and receipt to him. “See ya, Dennis,” she said. “Can I get you something?” she said to Barkley.
“No, thank you.”
“Bye, Sally,” Dennis said, signing the bill and pocketing the duplicate.
“One more thing,” Barkley said. “I can be very influential. You’d be surprised how I can throw my weight around. For instance, I could get you posted to Canberra, if that’s what you wanted.”
Up to this point Dennis had avoided eye contact with Barkley and showed his discomfort by staring at the row of bottles behind the bar. At the reference to Australia, he turned abruptly to face the congressman, but Barkley had already stood and disappeared into the horde of busy, happy shoppers.
CHAPTER 4
Shit, Dennis said to himself. Shit, shit, shit. I can’t believe it. What an idiot.
He picked up his desk phone and dialed.
“Are you free right now? Good, I just need to stop by.”
He poked his head into the doorway, and Louise waved him in.
Dennis sat and said quickly, “We have not come up with anything new on the Arnold case. This guy from NSA is pretty good, and he thinks the theory of a rogue unit from the Middle East is as good a theory as any. We would like to interview two people in the UK, though.”
“Who?” Louise said.
“The chief of station in London and Arnold’s contact at Menwith Hill in Yorkshire. Maybe after that we might be able to close this up.”
“Well, that would be a welcome bit of news, given the rocky start to this investigation,” she said. “I’ll give Bill an update that he can pass along to Barkley’s staff.”
Dennis chose not to divulge his meeting the Barkley. He knew enough to leave this one alone. To bring it up with Louise would complicate his assignment immeasurably.
“Oh, and another thing,” he said. “I didn’t know you were the one who survived that car bomb in Lebanon.”
She stared at him.
“I just wanted to say that you were pretty courageous. And I feel kind of stupid for giving you a rough time.”
She stared at him long enough for Dennis to squirm.
“What if I told you that I’m not that woman,” she said. “I have a twin who works in operations, Dennis. It was her that got injured.”
He started to speak, then stopped, then started again. “I guess that I’m doubly stupid, then. Maybe I should just go right now. Anyway, that’s the latest update on the London thing.”
Dennis rushed out the door and was several steps down the hallway when he heard her calling him. He pushed his head back into the doorway.
“I don’t have a twin.”
“Oh,” he said.
They continued to look at each other as Dennis felt his palms moisten with sweat.
“I suppose it was mean of me to say that I had a twin,” she said. “But I felt like I had to get you back for being such an asshole.”
“Well, I’d say you accomplished your goal pretty well,” he said carefully. “I felt like a jerk when I first mentioned it then felt like a major jerk when you said you had a twin. Now I’m feeling completely jerkified, if that’s even a word. But I can promise you one thing, Louise.”“And what would that be?”
“I will never underestimate your toughness again. Nor will I misjudge your ability to seek vengeance.”
“Well, we will get along just fine then,” she said.
“Can I leave now?”
“Please do,” she said.
✦
“It’s just that you look like you need a break,” he said. “We all need breaks now and then. We are fully staffed, and this seems like a good time to go on holiday.”
Judy looked at her boss, Calvin Miller, and sighed. It was no use accusing him of patronizing one of the few female investigators in the AFP’s Perth office. In fact, she was indeed drained and exhausted.
“Really, Calvin, I’m fine,” she said. “I don’t need a holiday; I need to stop snarling dogs from ripping me to shreds.”
“A holiday would be brilliant,” he said, ignoring her response.
She sta
red out the window behind Calvin and could see the top of the ornate brick façade of the West Australian Art Institute across the street.
“I suppose a brief holiday might be nice,” she said.
“Oh, I nearly forgot. Interpol had a possible hit on a sighting for Voorster,” he said.
She stiffened. “Where?”
“Well, it was a fake passport, but the face-recognition software picked it out as a possible match. The individual landed in Ireland about two months ago on a flight from Rome. It was a very poor match, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“Still can’t believe we didn’t get him the first time around,” she said.
“We tried, Judy. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I know he threatened you and your family. But he’s been on the run ever since, if he’s even alive. You broke up a very large drug ring and should be proud of that. We certainly are.”
“Yes, but he is a very dangerous man, Calvin. He threatened to get back at me and my son. He’s a cruel, dark man.”
“I’m sorry I brought it up. I wanted to reassure you, not distress you. Please, just forget it and think about a holiday.”
She nodded.
“Brilliant,” Calvin said, standing. “I’m sure Clive can cover for you while you’re away.”
Judy lumbered back to her small office and fell into her chair. She was exhausted. And lonely. And maybe depressed. Her friend Cilla was right: she missed her Yank but needed to get over him so she could find someone new. An Aussie in Western Australia would be a good start. An American in Washington, D.C., had been a bad idea from the start, but what was a woman to do when she fell in love? She missed Dennis and wanted him dearly, but she was now aware that their halting and awkward phone conversations were a sign. Translation: the relationship was over. They should just finish it and say goodbye. The world was full of possibilities, but only if you looked for them. Wallowing in self-pity was unhealthy; even she knew that.
✦
He bolted forward in his chair as if there was an electrical charge in his seat.
“Come again?” Dennis said.
“I think it’s time for us to stop meeting,” Dr. Forrester said.
“Are you firing me? Can you do that? Therapists can’t fire patients, can they?”
She smiled. “Dennis, relax. I’d like you to consider that we don’t need to meet any longer, that’s all. You’ve made incredible progress over the two-plus years we’ve been meeting. There’s a time when therapy is no longer required, when the patient is self-sufficient and there’s nothing more to be gained by meeting. You should feel good about this, not discouraged or alarmed.”
Dennis sat back in his chair and winced. “Are you serious?”
“It’s something I’d like you to start thinking about. I’m not talking about today being our last meeting; I’d like you to be thinking about it, that’s all.”
“So you think I’m healed? Is that it?”
“We don’t talk like that,” she said. “Healing is a process; it’s not an end state. You’re more than ready to deal with life’s challenges without coming here to talk about them. We don’t need to revisit your painful childhood, your wife’s passing and even your recuperation from the shooting. You’re well enough to handle things on your own. And you should feel good about that.”
“You’re firing me,” he said.
“Dennis.” She smiled. “Please. That’s not true.”
“That’s what it feels like. And how am I supposed to deal with Judy now? You’re the only person I can talk to about her.”
“Ah, well, that’s a perfect example of why we don’t need to meet any longer. You know how to manage the situation with her. You’re both adults. People figure out how to move forward. It’s in the nature of things.”
“I’m feeling abandoned,” Dennis said. “You always encourage me to express myself and not bottle it in. So here I go: I feel like you’re tossing me out.”
“Like I said, Dennis, we should start talking about it. We don’t have to rush.”
✦
The flight was smooth from the start, and Dennis was thrilled, since turbulence unnerved him. In fact, the business class flight to London’s Heathrow Airport would have been glorious except for the fact that he was seated next to Fred.
“So what are we supposed to ask the station chief that hasn’t already been asked of him?” Fred said. “He’s been interviewed a ton of times on this case. What do we do that’s different?”
“Leave that to me,” Dennis said. “We’ll test his mettle. Just stick by me on this one.”
“You’re not going to submit him to one of Cunningham’s famous interrogations, are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, everyone knows about your methods. I’m sure the station chief has already been briefed on what to expect from you. You’re famous for accosting people. Even when they haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I wish people would stop talking about this stuff,” Dennis said. “It sort of takes away the surprise and makes it harder to tease out the good people from the bad when they know what to expect.”
“Are you pouting now?” Fred said. “You look like you’re pouting.”
“I’m not pouting. I just wish people would stop talking about me so I could do my job.”
“You’re pouting.”
“And you’re a pain in the ass. Go read your in-flight magazine or watch a movie.”
Fred laughed and started to push buttons on his personal TV screen. “I have a new bit of information,” he said, adjusting the channels.
“What?”
“I wasn’t going to tell you, because it’s only a slight correlation, but you never know,” Fred said.
Dennis turned to look at him. “Correlation? What are you talking about?”
“About Arnold. Just a theory, but I don’t think you believe in the science of this stuff, so I was reluctant to mention it.”
“Try me,” Dennis said.
The flight attendant stopped and asked if either man needed anything.
“Single malt,” Dennis said.
“Light beer,” Fred said.
After she left with the order, Fred said, “What a great-looking woman. God, what I’d give to have someone like that pay attention to me. I noticed she was all smiles with you and kind of treated me like an eighty-year-old toad. You blue-eyed, rugged guys get all the action.”
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“Look at me,” Fred said. “Women just ignore me. I’m this balding little slob who has zero sex appeal. But I’m used to it, sort of. Resigned to it, more like. I bet you have a hundred girlfriends.”
“No, I don’t,” Dennis said. “Just one. And she probably won’t be my girlfriend for much longer. It’s not as easy as you think to have someone you care about live so far away. And not for a minute do I believe you don’t have a girlfriend.”
“I tried all the online dating sites, and I used a photo from when I was in college. When I was thinner, you know, and had more hair. But when they see me, you can tell, they’re like, ‘Ugh, what a troll.’ So I’ve given up. I just have buddies now.”
Dennis frowned. “Buddies? Are you gay?”
Fred exploded in laughter as the flight attendant returned with the drinks. “It would be better if I was gay,” he said, taking a huge pull of his beer. “I mean I thought about being gay, but I don’t think you can think yourself into being gay. I like women. But they don’t like me. So I have buddies.”
Dennis shook his head. “Fred, it doesn’t surprise me that you’re from NSA, the center of the nerd universe. But you still haven’t told me about your buddies.”
“I have a movie buddy and a classical music buddy. The movie buddy is Cathy; she’s sixty-six years old and is on my brid
ge team. Her husband died years ago. We’re not attracted to each other, because, well, there’s like twenty years separating us. But she likes movies, and I like movies, so we have this relationship based on going to dinner and seeing a movie. No sex, just conversation and a movie. And maybe a drink afterward. Do you have buddies like that?”
“No,” Dennis said, taking a sip of his Macallan. “Never heard of the buddy thing. Kind of find it interesting. And the classical music buddy?”
“Oh, that’s Jennie. She’s really sweet. About fifty-five, I think, though you’d never know it. She retired from the Library of Congress like two hundred years ago or so. Never married. Lives on Wisconsin Avenue. We go to concerts together. Same thing. Dinner, concert, drinks afterwards. Great women. Just no sex, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” Dennis said. “You mean you can’t find a woman your own age to date?”
“Didn’t I just tell you that? I don’t have those blue eyes you’ve got, Mr. Casanova. You have no idea how lucky you are.”
“I don’t like this conversation, so can we go back to something else?” Dennis said. “What about your theory? You mentioned a theory.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, well it goes like this: we can run massive amounts of data to look for patterns and correlations.”
“So?”
“I asked for a run of Arnold’s cell phone tower pings — you know, a tracking of his movements using his phone. This isn’t tracking his conversations, it’s tracking his physical movement using cell phone geolocation. And we ran his geolocation against all of the surveillance data we had in London. And there was an odd match, or a wisp of a match.”
“Come on, Freddie. I don’t speak ‘algorithm.’ Help me out.”
“Yeah, okay. So MI5 and you folks track thousands of suspicious people in the UK. Some are suspected spies, some are friends of suspected spies, and some are friends of friends of suspected spies.”
“Fine, I got it. So what?”
“We track analog follows and digital follows of all of these people.”
