gleefully.
Robie said, “Thanks for nothing.”
He turned and left. He would find out who Gerald Dixon was. But he had to assume that Julie was safe for the moment. Now he had to get going.
He rode back to his apartment and checked out the front and back of his building before going inside. He took the stairwell instead of the elevator. He passed no one. At this hour of the day everyone was at work. He opened the door to his apartment and poked his head inside. It was all as he had left it.
It took him five minutes to make sure the place was empty. He employed little traps—a piece of paper wedged into a door track, a thread that would be broken when a drawer was opened—to alert him if someone had broken into and searched his place. None of them were tripped.
He changed into slacks, sport coat, and white collared shirt and opened a wall safe that was behind a shelving unit holding his TV. His cred pack was in there. He hadn’t used it in a long time. He slipped it inside his suit jacket and set off.
The meeting was in a public place at Robie’s insistence.
The Hay-Adams Hotel was located across the street from Lafayette Park, which in turn was across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House. The most protected ground on earth. Robie figured even his agency would have a hard time killing him here and getting away with it.
The Jefferson Room, an expansive eating area a short stack of steps up from the hotel lobby, was the actual site of the meeting. Robie got there early to see who might have arrived ahead of him.
Then he waited. One minute before the allotted time a man in his sixties walked in. Modestly priced suit, red tie, polished off-the-rack shoes, the bearing and gravitas of a lifelong public servant who had accumulated far more power than wealth. Two tall young men were with him.
Muscle. Chest bumps revealed the weapons. Earwigs and wires revealed the communications.
They followed him into the Jefferson Room but did not sit with him. They took up positions on the perimeter, their gazes sweeping for threats. They did not let the man sit in the line of any window.
One of the men took out a slender device and set it on the piano that was parked in one corner of the restaurant. He turned it on. It emitted a humming sound.
White noise with a scrambler, Robie knew because he had employed one in his work. If there are electronic surveillance devices in here, the recording will come out undecipherable.
It was only then that Robie stepped out. He allowed himself to be seen, but did not approach until the older man saw him and nodded, which confirmed to his guards that Robie was the one he was meeting with.
The room was empty even though it was lunchtime. Robie knew this was not a coincidence. The wait staff was not in evidence. The restaurant had in effect been shut down. Robie would have to eat lunch afterwards if he was hungry. He doubted food was part of the agenda.
Robie sat catty-corner to the man, his back also to a wall.
“Glad you could make it,” said the man.
“You have a name?”
“Blue Man will do.”
“Creds, Blue, just for confirmation.”
The man reached into his pocket and let Robie see the badge, the picture, and the position stated on the ID card but not the name.
This fellow was high up in the agency. Far higher than Robie expected.
“Okay, let’s talk. Jane Wind? You said she was one of ours. I checked her ID. She’s DCIS. Defense Criminal Investigative Service.”
“Did you also see her passport?”
“Middle East trips, Germany. But DCIS has offices in all those places.”
“That’s why it made perfect cover.”
“So was she a lawyer?”
“Yes. But she was more than that.”
“What exactly did she do for you?”
“You know you’re not read in.”
“Then why ask me here?”
“I said you weren’t read in. I’m officially reading you in now.”
“Okay.”
“But first, I need to know exactly what happened last night.”
Robie told him. He figured at this point keeping anything back was a stupid idea. However, he said nothing about Julie or the bus disintegrating. In his mind that was a separate matter entirely.
Blue Man sat back and took all this information in. He didn’t break the silence and neither did Robie. He figured Blue Man had more to tell him than Robie had left to convey.
“Agent Wind worked in the field for years. She was a good agent, as I said. After she had her children she was reassigned to the IG’s Office at DOD, but she still worked closely with DCIS in all of its investigation sectors. And of course she continued to work for us.”
“How did that get her assigned to a hit list she wasn’t supposed to be on?” asked Robie. “And how can something like this happen anyway? I know we’re clandestine, but we’re also part of an organization with checks and balances.”
“Rogue traders lose billions of dollars of institutional money all the time. And those organizations are bigger and better funded than we are. And still it happens. If one person, or more likely a small group of people, are determined enough, they can accomplish the impossible.”
“I saw her go into the building that night. She had no kids with her.”
“Apparently they were with a sitter she’s used before that lives in the building. This sitter took them to the apartment when Agent Wind returned home.”
“Okay. What did Wind stumble on that got her killed?”
Blue Man looked curious. “How do you know she stumbled onto anything?”
“She lived in a crappy apartment with two little kids. There were legal docs on her table in the living room. You can’t bring home classified stuff and leave it lying around. So her work wasn’t classified. According to her passport her last trip out of the States was two years ago. She wasn’t a field agent, at least not any longer, according to you. Her youngest child wasn’t even a year old. She probably was pulled from the field because of that. But she was back working on something, probably considered routine. She found something. That’s why she was targeted. I doubt it was directly related to her work.”
Blue Man took this in, his head nodding approvingly. “You analyze well, Robie. I’m impressed.”
“And I’m full of questions. Do you know what she had stumbled onto?”
“No. We don’t. But like you we don’t think it was tied to her official duties.”
“Why do you want me to act as the liaison with the Bureau? That’s a big risk, particularly if they find out what I’ve been doing the last dozen years.”
“Which they won’t.”
“Like you said, one person or a group, if determined enough, can accomplish the impossible.”
“Give me your theory.”
“Someone found out what she had discovered and they ratted her. We have a mole on our side, as evidenced by the actions of my handler and others, and the hit was carried out. They weren’t sure I would pull the trigger so they had a backup. He had no compunction about blowing the kid and his mother away. And you said my handler had been reassigned. That was a lie. I don’t need lies from you.”
“How do you figure it was a lie?”
“He ordered me to kill Wind. You said that wasn’t authorized. So the guy’s a traitor. You don’t reassign traitors. If you had him in custody you wouldn’t need me telling you what happened and theorizing why. That means the handler has disappeared. Along with whoever else he was working with. How many are we talking?”
Blue Man sighed. “We think at least three other people in the chain, but there might be more.”
Robie just stared at him.
Blue Man looked down, fiddled with a silver-plated spoon on the immaculate white linen tablecloth. “It’s not good, certainly.”
“Understatement of the year. What exactly do you want me to do?”
“We have to keep tabs on the investigation without seeming to. So officially
you will be a special agent with DCIS, but you will actually be reporting to me. We’ll provide you with all the cover and creds you need. They’re being placed at your apartment as we speak.”
Robie’s face darkened. “You say you’ve got at least four traitors. What if you actually have more? And what if one of them is at my apartment right now?”
“These agents were pulled from an entirely separate division. They’ve had no contact with your handler. Their loyalty is above question.”
“Right. Forgive me if I think that’s bullshit.”
“At some point you have to trust, Robie.”
“No I don’t. And everyone is okay with me joining the hunt?”
“DCIS is on board. Would you like to talk to the national security advisor? Or the deputy director of CIA?”
“Right now it wouldn’t matter to me what they said. But why me?”
“Because you didn’t pull the trigger, ironically enough. We trust you to do the right thing, Robie. There aren’t many I can say that about right now.”
Robie had thought of another possible reason why they wanted him involved.
I was there. Which means I’ll make the perfect fall guy if this goes to hell.
But he said, “Alright.”
His reasoning was straightforward. He would prefer to work the case himself and bring some sort of resolution and sense of justice to it, rather than wait for someone else to do it, and maybe screw it and him beyond repair.
If I go down, I go down by my own hand.
Blue Man rose and put out his hand. “Thank you. And good luck.”
Robie didn’t shake his hand. “It’s almost never about luck. We both know that.” He turned and walked out of the Hay-Adams, back into a world that seemed a little more unfamiliar and daunting than when he had walked in.
CHAPTER
25
EVERYTHING WAS WAITING for Robie when he got back to his apartment. That was not entirely comforting.
None of my traps were tripped.
He looked over the file, the creds, and his background information.
He had to come up to speed on this case as fast as possible. But fast-tracking something like this meant that mistakes could be made.
And probably will be.
Then it became a case of how fast his support from Blue Man would fade away.
Faster than the party and financial support of a candidate with plummeting poll numbers.
It was just how the town worked.
The name Will Robie stared back at him from the creds. Ironically, his real name was the safest one to use for this sort of assignment.
Robie picked up the badge and ID card pack and put it in his jacket. Also waiting for him was a fresh Glock G20 and a shoulder holster. He was glad to rid himself of the .38 throwaway. He strapped it on and buttoned his jacket.
As he headed out, Robie looked down the hall and watched as she unlocked her door. Annie Lambert turned to him. She was in a black business suit and sneakers with white ankle socks.
“Hello, Will,” she said.
“Don’t usually see you here in the middle of the day,” he said.
“I forgot something. Lunchtime was the first chance I’ve had to come and get it. What are you all dressed up for?”
“Just a meeting. How did your chill session go?”
“What? Oh, it went fine.”
The inquiries into Lambert triggered by her contact with Robie had turned up nothing. Not surprising. To work at the White House one had to be squeaky clean.
He said, “Sorry I left so abruptly. I was just tired.”
“No problem. I was too, actually.” She hesitated and said in a subdued voice, “But maybe we can have that drink sometime.”
“Yeah, maybe we can,” said Robie, who was thinking of all that lay ahead of him.
“Okay,” she said uncertainly.
He started to walk off and then stopped, realizing that he’d once more been abrupt with her. He turned to her. “I appreciate the offer, Annie. I really do. And I want to have a drink with you.”
She brightened. “That’d be great.”
“And let’s do it soon,” he said. “Real soon.”
“Why? Are you going somewhere?” she asked.
“No. But I’ve wanted to start getting out more. And I’d like to do that with you.”
Her smile widened. “Okay, Will. You know where I live.”
He walked off and wondered why he was suddenly so taken with the young woman. She was lovely and obviously smart and maybe she was smitten with him. But in the past that had not mattered to Robie. He turned and looked back at her apartment. She had gone inside, but he had the image of her standing there in the tennis shoes and the business suit. He smiled.
Robie drove his Audi to the crime scene. With his creds he was able to park within the security perimeter. On the way he had looked at his tracking device as he passed the hotel where Julie was staying. She was still there.
He walked to the apartment building’s entrance feeling enormously uncomfortable. He was going to help investigate a murder at which he was an eyewitness.
There was a pack of cops and suits huddled in the lobby of the building. Robie made his way to them, thinking he would check in and introduce himself to the people running the case. The huddle started breaking up as he approached. Out from its middle stepped the same female FBI special agent he had seen at the bus bombing.
She came forward, looking at him inquisitively.
He pulled his cred pack, flashed first the badge and then ID card.
She reciprocated with her cred pack. It said she was FBI special agent Nicole Vance.
“Agent Robie, welcome to the show. I’ve got some questions for you,” she said.
“I look forward to working on this case with you, Agent Vance.”
She said, “I got a call from my supervisor about you. We’re to associate you with the case, but purely for background information on the deceased and any other information that will help us solve the case. But the FBI has the lead, meaning I have the lead.”
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” Robie said smoothly.
Vance seemed to study him more closely. “Okay,” she said cautiously. “Just so long as we understand the ground rules.”
“What would you like my help on?”
“Any background you can give us on the victim.”
Robie pulled a flash drive from his jacket pocket. “Her official background file is contained on here.”
She took the drive and handed it to one of her associates. “Get it read and summarized ASAP.”
She turned back to Robie. “We were just about to go over the crime scene again. Care to join us?”
“I’d appreciate that. My superiors want to know I’m earning my pay.”
This comment earned him a smile. “I guess fed agencies all operate similarly,” she said.
“I guess they do.”
As they headed to the elevator Vance said, “Did you hear about the bus explosion?”
“I saw it on the news,” said Robie. “I understand FBI is investigating that too.”
“More specifically, I am.”
“A lot on your plate,” he commented.
“Might be a good reason to merge the investigations.”
“Why is that?”
“We found a gun at the scene of the bus explosion.”
Robie kept his gaze straight ahead even as his heartbeat quickened.
“Gun?” he said.
The Innocent Page 11
