Текст книги "The Hit"

Автор книги: David Baldacci

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

When they were back at the party, Kent glanced sideways at Decker as the ten-year-old birthday boy blew out his candles.

Decker was another weak link.

Kent should have known better than to enlist a congressman, but Decker had his value—his chairmanship of a committee that was of particular use to Kent. Now that value had been utilized and Decker’s importance had declined correspondingly.

And there was one other person on board.

He was not a weak link.

Kent, in fact, had to take precautions against this person arriving at the decision that he himself was a liability.

That was his bigger problem. If he was deemed to be a weak link by this partner, then his life was in grave danger. More danger, in fact, than having Reel on his trail.

Kent left the house with his youngster in tow. He watched Decker get into a Town Car with his son. The driver looked capable and was no doubt armed.

But there was only one of him.

Right before Decker climbed into the car he stopped and looked back at Kent.

The judge smiled and waved.

Decker waved back and then got into the car.

Kent climbed into his Jag. He had no guards with him. But he had his son. And from what he knew of Jessica Reel, she wouldn’t kill him in front of his boy. That moral compass of hers was his best protection.

Now if he could think of a way to glue his child to him, he’d be fine.

Absent that, he had to find Reel and kill her as quickly as possible.

And he thought he had a way to do just that.

And that plan involved a man named Will Robie.

CHAPTER

46

ROBIE PARKED ACROSS FROM THE school and waited.

He had returned to the D.C. area, put his truck back in the barn at his isolated old farmhouse, and taken a cab to retrieve his car from the mall.

He hadn’t heard from Evan Tucker since he had left the IHOP.

He hadn’t heard from anyone since he’d left the IHOP.

He didn’t take that as a good sign.

But he hadn’t been arrested. He took that as a plus.

He stiffened when Julie came out of the school building and walked to the bus stop. He sat lower in his car and watched her.

She was dressed in her typical kneeless jeans and floppy hoodie and dirty sneakers and carried the same overstuffed backpack. She tucked her long hair behind her ears and stared around.

She wasn’t listening to her music on her phone.

She wasn’t texting.

She was being observant.

Good, thought Robie. You have to be, Julie.

The bus came and she got on. When it pulled off Robie follwed. He followed all the way until the bus stopped and Julie got off. Then he watched her make it safely into her home. When she walked inside and the door clicked behind her Robie drove away.

He knew he couldn’t do this every day. But right now he just wanted to keep Julie safe. He just wanted to be accomplishing something positive.

He stared down at his phone and decided to just do it. He hit his speed dial.

Two rings later she answered.

“Unbelievable,” said Nicole Vance. “Did you misdial?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “You have time to meet?”

“Why?”

“Just to talk.”

“You never want to just talk, Robie.”

“Today I do. If you don’t have time, no worries.”

“I can make seven o’clock, not before.”

They made arrangements to meet and Robie clicked off.

He had time to do something and he decided to take full advantage of it. He made another phone call and arranged to meet with the man.

He really didn’t know what to expect, but he felt it was the path of least resistance. And to the extent that he trusted anyone, he trusted this person.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting across from Blue Man.

“I understand that several days ago you waylaid the director while he was being driven to work,” Blue Man said.

“Is that the scuttlebutt here?”

“Is it true?”

“I needed some answers.”

“Did you get them?”

“No, that’s why I’m here.”

“This is all above my pay grade, Robie.”

“That’s not an excuse I can accept.”

Blue Man fiddled with his tie and wouldn’t make eye contact.

Robie said, “Are we being recorded here?”

“Probably.”

“Then we need to go somewhere else.”

“Another IHOP? I heard about that. It’s now the stuff of agency lore, in fact,” said Blue Man, and he wasn’t smiling.

“Let’s make it a Starbucks.”

Twenty minutes later they walked into the Starbucks, ordered, got their coffees from the barista, and sat down at a table outside that was well away from all the other coffee drinkers. The wind was picking up, but for once it wasn’t raining and the sky didn’t look overly threatening.

They sipped their coffees and Blue Man huddled in his trench coat. To Robie he looked like a banker out for a cup of expensive perked coffee beans. He didn’t seem like a man who made life-and-death decisions. Who dealt with issues of national security as readily as other people made choices for lunch.

Look who’s talking, Robie. You may not decide who lives or dies. But you actually pull the trigger.

Robie and Blue Man spent a silent minute looking around at people getting into and out of cars. Going into shops. Coming out with bags. Holding their kids’ hands.

Blue Man caught Robie’s eye.

“Ever miss it?”

“What?” asked Robie.

“Being part of the normal world.”

“Not sure I ever was.”

“I was an English lit major at Princeton. I wanted to be the William Styron or Philip Roth of my generation.”

“So what happened?”

“I went to a government recruitment session with a friend of mine who was interested in going to work for the FBI. There were some men there at a table with no sign on it. I stopped by to see who they were. Fast-forward well over thirty years and here I am.”

“Sorry you didn’t end up writing the great American novel?”

“Well, there’s some consolation. My world is full of fiction.”

“Lies, you mean.”

“A difference of no real distinction,” said Blue Man. He glanced at Robie’s arm and leg. “Have you been back in to get those looked at?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it. The last thing we need is you dying from an infection. Do it today. I’ll set it up. Same place as last time.”

“Okay. Any word on DiCarlo?”

Blue Man frowned. “I understand she has been taken under DHS’s jurisdiction.”

“That I know. Can you explain to me how that is possible? Because even Tucker wasn’t aware of that until I told him.”

“I’m not sure I can. Because I’m not sure I understand it either, Robie.”

“Is she alive?”

“I would think it inconceivable that DiCarlo would have died and we would not be informed.”

“What is DHS’s role in all this?”

“They protect the homeland. We, on the other hand, have no authority to operate in this country.”

“And that, as you well know, is a long-standing piece of fiction.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe it’s not anymore.”

Robie could see that Blue Man was serious. “That bad?”

“Apparently.”

“And the reason?”

“What did DiCarlo tell you that night? Why did she want to meet in the first place?”

“She only had two guards with her. What does that tell you?”

“She felt compromised inside her own agency?”

“Something like that.”

“What else?”

Robie drank some of his coffee. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not unless there’s more.”

“Maybe I’m feeling compromised too.”

Blue Man looked away, his features unreadable. “I guess I can understand that.”

“Different dynamic, like you said.”

“The problem is if none of us trust each other the other side has already won.”

“That would be true, if we were sure who was on the other side.”

“Jessica Reel?” asked Blue Man.

“What about her?”

“Whose side is she on?”

“I’ll tell you what I told Gus Whitcomb. I think it was Reel who saved my ass and DiCarlo’s life.”

“I thought you were going to say that.”

Robie was surprised by this comment and his features showed it. “Why?”

“Because I think Jessica Reel might be on our side.”

“And yet she’s killed two of our people.”

“Follow that out logically, Robie.”

“So you’re saying that Jacobs and Gelder were not on our side.” Reel hadcalled them traitors, and Robie was surprised to see that Blue Man was entertaining this possibility. He was usually an agency man through and through.

“That’s right. If Reel is actually on our side.”

“And you’re saying that’s true?”

“I’m saying it’s possible.”

“Then the number two at the agency is a traitor?”

“Possibly. But then a traitor can have many different definitions. And agendas.”

“Who else thinks this?”

“I haven’t talked to anyone other than you about it. If you hadn’t suggested leaving the office I was going to. These are not statements I make lightly, Robie. I hope you know that. This is probably not a lone turncoat who does it for money like Aldrich Ames or Robert Hanssen. This might be systemic, and I don’t think the motivation is simply money.”

“So if they are traitors, who were they working for? And what were they working on? And how did Reel find out?”

“All good questions, and I have no answers for you.”

“And DHS’s involvement?”

“Others must suspect there’s a problem. They might have taken DiCarlo for safekeeping.”

“And Evan Tucker?”

“He must be a very worried man about now. Did you tell him about Reel being at DiCarlo’s?”

Robie nodded.

Blue Man took a long drink of coffee. “Then he’s probably more worried than I thought.”

“You heard about Roy West?”

Blue Man nodded. “Apparently he went way off the grid and into the world of paranoid lunacy.”

“He was an analyst. What exactly did he analyze?”

“Why do you want to know? You don’t think it has anything to do with—”

“I can’t afford to discount anything right now.”

“He was nothing special. Had a rep for writing nonsense scenario papers. Probably why he was let go. I don’t see how he plays into this.”

Robie wanted to tell him exactly how West and Reel played into this, but he didn’t. “Tucker wanted me to keep going after Reel.”

“And what did you say to that?”

“I said no.”

“No one will ever have to tell you to grow a pair, Robie.”

“The question is, what do I do now?”

“You did not hear this from me,” replied Blue Man.

“Okay.”

“If I were Will Robie, I would think about going off the grid.”

“And do what?”

“Find Jessica Reel. And if you do, you might just find all the answers.”

I did find her, Robie thought. And I let her go.

Blue Man finished his coffee and rose. “And then you can do something else, Robie.”

Robie looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You can thank Reel for saving your life.”

After Blue Man walked off, Robie muttered, “Too late. I already returned the favor.”

CHAPTER

47

ROBIE SAT ON THE EXAM TABLE, his shirt and pants off while Dr. Meenan checked his burns.

“They look better. But it’s good you came in. There was some drainage and infection. I’m going to clean the areas and put in some sutures to stabilize the affected areas and just to make sure we don’t have any problems. And I’ll give you another shot and more meds.”

“Okay.”

She removed some of the dead skin, cleaned the areas thoroughly, and then sutured some portions where the skin had pulled apart. Once finished with that, she brought over a syringe, rubbed alcohol on his left arm, stuck him, and then placed a Band-Aid over it. “So you did come back in one piece.”

“I did, yes.”

“I’m glad.”

Robie glanced at her. “Why?”

“We lose enough good people. You can put your clothes back on.”

Robie slipped his pants back on.

She said, “I’ll have the meds bagged up. They’ll be available for you out front in about five minutes.”

“Thanks.”

Robie buttoned up his shirt as Meenan made some notes in her file. Without looking up she said, “Did you hear about that crazy stuff in Arkansas? Did you know the guy used to work here?”

“Roy West?”

“Yeah. I actually knew him. Well, I examined him once.”

“What for?”

“Sorry, patient confidentiality. It even applies here. It wasn’t for anything serious. But I can tell you he was a strange guy.”

“Lot of strange guys here.”

“No, I mean really strange.” She paused and finished writing, closed the file, and put it away in a rack on the desk.

“Can I tell you something in confidence?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“I mean, really?”

“I mean really, sure.”

She smiled at this, but then her smile faded to a frown. “He was creepy. And he seemed like a holier-than-thou type. Like he had this big secret he was just bursting to tell me.”

“Probably lots of people here like that.”

“Maybe. But he stuck out.”

“Well, in the end it didn’t help him.”

“Killed in a militia war, I heard on the news.”

“So they say.”

“You know different?” she asked sharply.

“No and I’ve got my hands full with my own stuff.” He laced up his shoes and slipped off the table. “I appreciate you patching me up.”

“It’s what they pay me for.”

“So this West guy was kind of a psycho. Heard he got canned from here.”

“I’m not surprised. I can’t believe he passed the psychological vetting. He just seemed too unstable.”

“What else do you remember about him? He ever mention anyone to you?”

“Anyone like who?”

“Just anyone.”

She smiled slyly. “I thought you said you had your hands full.”

“I’m naturally curious.”

“Well, he did mention that he had friends in high places. Very high places, he said. I thought he was just blustering. He was pretty low-level at the agency.” She blushed.

“What?” asked Robie.

“Well, I thought he was saying all that to impress me.”

“You mean he was hitting on you?”

“Yeah, I think he was.” She slapped him playfully on the arm. “And don’t sound so surprised.”

“You think he was serious?”

“I’ve thought about that. If I had to guess, I think he did have someone higher up who had his back.”

“Not that high up. He got canned.”

“You’re right. Anyway, I’ll just leave it that he was trying to hit on me.” She slipped a business card from her pocket. “Just in case you lost my other card, here’s another one with all my contact info, including my personal cell. If you have any problems with the injuries please don’t hesitate to call.”

As Robie took the card, her fingers grazed across his. She didn’t meet his eye but her cheeks were slightly red.

Robie had a strong feeling that she was hitting on him.

CHAPTER

48

NICOLE VANCE WAS WAITING FOR him this time. And she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The woman was all business tonight.

Robie sat down.

“I already ordered you a drink,” she said.

He eyed her glass. “Gin?”

“Ginger ale. I’m still technically on duty.”

“Long day.”

“Long life. At least I hope.” She eyed his right arm. “You’re carrying that a little stiffly. What gives?”

The burns were healing, but slowly. And the arm wasstiff, the new sutures Meenan had put in making it even stiffer. He wondered how fast he could draw his weapon. Maybe not fast enough. Yet he had done okay out in the hinterlands of Arkansas. Adrenaline made pain manageable. It was only later that everything hurt.

“Old age.”

She smirked. “Nice try.”

“Why are you still on duty?” asked Robie.

She sipped her ginger ale; her gaze held a faraway look. “When an investigation is going nowhere I tend to work overtime. Whole world’s going to hell, Robie.”

“What’s new?”

“You heard about this stuff in Arkansas. With Roy West?”

“Saw the news,” he replied.

“He was with your agency.”

“Never knew him.”

“He didn’t last long, apparently. Then he went off half-cocked and turned into some antigovernment freak. Don’t you vet your people better?”

“Not my job,” said Robie.

His drink came and he tasted it.

“Just how you like it?” asked Vance.

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Good, we can drink to the world going to hell.”

“So what part of the world exactly is going to hell?”

“Pick any spot you want. No leads on Jacobs. Nothing on Gelder. The shit in Arkansas. And the ATF is going nuts too.”

“About what?”

“An explosion at a remote place on the Eastern Shore. Very sophisticated device used. And someone had even put accelerant in a pond on the property. There wasn’t much left in the way of evidence. I’m not on that case. We dohave other FBI agents. The Bureau got called out on the Arkansas case too. This militia crap is getting really scary. There used to be just dozens of these groups. Now there are thousands of them. Maybe more.”

“So how did this Roy West guy die?”

“Don’t really know. Like I said, I’m not working it. And to top it off there was a shooting over near the federal court in Alexandria.”

“I didn’t hear about that,” replied Robie.

“Several cars involved. No one got a license plate, of course. Some gal in a sedan driving like Jeff Gordon. Shots fired from the vehicles. And the kicker is a federal judge just happened to be strolling down the street at the same time.”

“You think he was the target?”

“Don’t know. I sort of doubt it. It was in the report because he’s a judge. We have to cover that angle.”

“Which judge?”

“Samuel Kent.”

“Maybe it was just a street gang thing.”

“That part of Alexandria is very upscale. No gang activity there.”

“So no sign of the ‘gal’?”

“Nope. Nifty piece of driving by all accounts, and then she was gone.”

“And the shooters?”

“Gone too. Amazing how that can happen on a crowded street, but it did.” She finished her ginger ale. “You asked to meet and I’ve done all the talking. Now I’m shutting up and putting on my listening ears.”

Robie nodded, trying to assimilate all that she had told him and wondering if the “gal” was who he thought she was. It seemed both ridiculously impossible and extremely likely that it was Jessica Reel, particularly after Arkansas.

“It was good to see Julie,” said Robie.

“Really? I didn’t think it went all that well from my point of view.”

“She was upset,” replied Robie.

“And shouldn’t she be?”

“Yes, she should. But we talked on the drive to her house.”

“And?”

“And she was still upset.”

“Your personal skills must’ve been exceptional on that drive.”

“My goal is to keep her safe. You warned me too.”

“I know, Robie. But you don’t have to completely shut her out of your life. You two went through a lot together. Hell, she and I went through a lot together.”

“You and I went through a lot together,” noted Robie.

This comment caught Vance off guard. She sat back, her posture relaxed. “Yeah, we did. You saved my life and risked your life to do it.”

“I was the reason you were in danger in the first place. Which brings me back to my point about Julie. And you. Every time I meet with you I could be putting you back in danger. I don’t take that lightly, Nikki. It would probably have been better if I hadn’t called and asked you to meet tonight.”

“But you can’t protect everybody all the time, Robie. And I’m an FBI agent. I can take care of myself.’

“In normal circumstances, absolutely. I’m not normal.”

She snorted but caught his deeply serious expression and said, “I know what you mean, Will. I get that. I really do.”

“And what chance would Julie have? I’m involved in things right now.” He stopped talking and looked away.

She reached out tentatively and touched his hand, wrapping her long fingers around it and squeezing. “What things?”

He looked back at her as she removed her hand, looking embarrassed at having performed this intimate gesture. “In order to cover my back, I have to look in all directions at the same time,” he said.

She blinked, obviously trying to decipher this. “Meaning you can’t trust anyone?”

“Meaning there are things going on that no one can explain.” He paused. “Did you hear about Janet DiCarlo?”

“A vague story about something at her house.”

“I was there. It wasn’t vague. It was actually pretty straightforward on certain levels.”

“What the hell happened?”

Now Robie gripped her hand, hard. It was not an intimate gesture. “If I tell you, it can go no further. I’m not talking about professional courtesy. I’m talking about you staying alive.”

Vance’s mouth opened slightly and her eyes widened. “Okay, it goes no further.”

Robie took a sip of his drink and set the glass back down. “DiCarlo was attacked. Her guards were killed. She was wounded. I got her out. DHS took her for safekeeping.”

“Why couldn’t her own agency protect—” Vance stopped.

Robie nodded. “Exactly.”

“Are you talking rogue or systemic?”

“It’s not one traitor running around.”

“So systemic?”

“Could be.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m thinking about going off the grid.”

Vance sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about that?”

“You went off the grid for me.”

“I’m FBI, Robie. You going off the grid is a whole other thing.”

“I think it’s the only way I’m going to get to the truth.”

“Or get killed.”

“That could easily happen if I stay where I am.” He slowly raised his right arm. “It’s already nearly happened twice in the last few days.”

She glanced at Robie’s arm and then looked back at him. The strain was etched on her face. And that same level of strain was clear on Robie’s features.

“What can I do?” she asked.

“You’ve done plenty already.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“I may contact you at some point.”

“Robie, isn’t there any other way to handle this? You can come in to the FBI. We can protect you and maybe...” Her voice trailed off.

“I appreciate that. But I think my way is better.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve got some leads to follow up on.”

“Can you even get off the grid with all this crap going on?”

“I can try. That’s all I can do.” He rose. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“Why didyou want to meet? Not just to tell me you’re going off the grid?”

Robie started to say something but then couldn’t get it out.

She rose and stood next to him. Before he could move, Vance had put her arms around him and squeezed so tightly it was as though they had become one body. She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

She said, “You will come back. You will get through this. You’re Will Robie. Hell, you perform the impossible on a regular basis.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Robie turned and left.

Vance walked to the front of the restaurant and watched him head down the street until he disappeared into the darkness.

When she got back to her car she just sat there staring off and wondering if that was the last time she would ever see him.

CHAPTER

49

OFF THE GRID.

Robie was sitting in his apartment thinking about taking this step.

The last time he had gone off the grid it had not been pleasant. In fact, it had nearly cost him his life and the lives of several other people, including Julie and Vance.

Jessica Reel was off the grid right now. She seemed to be employing a complex strategy that had her on both sides of the chessboard at the same time. What advantage she hoped to gain by this was lost on Robie. It only meant that both sides had incentives to find and kill her.

Doubling your opposition made no sense. Yet Reel didn’t strike him as lacking in the brains department. So if she was doing it her strategy had to make sense somehow.

A former agency analyst in Arkansas turned militia nut. He’d written an apocalypse paper. She was there to find out whom he had sent it to.

Then there was a federal judge in Alexandria.

If Reel had been the one in Alexandria too, what the hell was the connection?

A judge, Gelder, Jacobs, and Roy West.

Were they all in on this apocalypse?

If so, exactly what was it?

If West had a copy of it, Robie had no way to get to it. The police would be crawling all over his place, or what was left of it. Reel probably had a copy, but again, he had no way to get it from her.

Robie stared down at the text Reel had sent him previously.

Everything I do has a reason. Just open the lock.

He suddenly groaned and slapped the table with his palm. How could he have been that stupid? Literally staring him right in the damn face.

He went to his safe, opened it, and pulled out the three items that had been left in her locker.

Right, her locker. All I had to do was open it.

Okay, now that the simple part was over, it got complicated really fast.

The gun.

The book.

The photo.

The gun he had already ripped apart and found nothing. It was just a pistol with some specialized parts that pointed him in no specific direction at all.

The book had no notes in it. No marginalia. Nothing to point him to a specific part.

The photo meant nothing to him. And he didn’t know who the man standing next to Reel was.

Everything I do has a reason.

He said in exasperation, “Great, lady, next time don’t make it so damn complicated. It’s adding up to something impossible for mere mortals to figure out.”

Robie locked the items back up and stared out the window.

What Blue Man had told him was only one more disquieting piece of information on top of many others. It seemed like the agency was imploding from the top level on down. How this state of chaos could be happening to the premier intelligence organization on earth was astounding.

The world was a truly dangerous place right now. It was far more dangerous even than during the Cold War. Back then the opponents were clearly delineated and aligned across the world. The stakes were just as clearly understood. The destruction of the world was a possibility. But not really. The theory of mutual assured destruction was a great catalyst for peace. You couldn’t take over the world if there was no world left to take over.

Today’s situation was far more fluid, far subtler, and the sides kept changing with alarming frequency. And Robie didn’t know if the element of mutual assured destruction was enough anymore. Apparently some people didn’t care if there was a world left afterward. That made them dangerous at an unprecedented level.

DiCarlo’s comments came back to him: Missions that never should have been. Missing personnel. Money moved from here to there and then it disappeared. Equipment sent to places it should not have been sent to and it also disappeared. And that’s not all. These things happened in discreet quantities over long periods of time. Taken singly they didn’t seem to be all that remarkable. But when one looks at them together.

To Robie’s mind, missing personnel alone should have been enough of a warning, much less everything else that DiCarlo had described.

How had that can gotten kicked down the road?

Tucker had been director long enough to have taken care of such significant issues. Or at least addressed them.

Unless Tucker was on the other side of the chessboard. But that seemed impossible. It was hard enough to envision Jim Gelder being a traitor. But if Reel was to be believed, he was. Yet both top slots corrupted? How likely was that?

However, what other explanation was there for so many things to go awry and not be addressed by the management?

He took out his wallet. Inside the compartment where he kept his cash was a small sealed baggie. In it were the rose petals.

That was the other clue Reel had left behind.

Someone had taken the roses and who knew what else, but had missed these items. What had Reel meant by this?

If everything she did had a purpose, there had to be some explanation. And it might be significant.

The lady at the florist shop had said the pinkish marks on the rose were sometimes interpreted as blood. Well, there had been a lot of blood spilled over this. Was that the simple meaning that Reel had intended? But if so, how did that help him?

Blue Man had postulated that Reel might be on the side of right in all this. What that actually meant in the spy business Robie wasn’t sure. Right and wrong switched sides all the time. No, perhaps that was unfair. There were core elements of right and wrong.

Terrorists who killed innocent people with hidden bombs were on the side of wrong, without question. In Robie’s mind they were also cowards.

He killed from long distance, but he also risked his life to do it. And he didn’t target innocent people. All those he went after spent their lives bringing pain to others.

Does that make me permanently on the side of right?

He shook his head to clear it of these troubling thoughts. Nice fodder for a philosophy class discussion. But it was bringing him no closer to the truth.

Or to Jessica Reel.

He had told Tucker he was not going to look for her.

In part his answer was truthful.

He wasn’t going to look for her anymore. At least not on behalf of Tucker and the agency. But he was going to find her, and this time he was going to make her tell him what was going on.

Whatever else happened, he was going to get to the truth.

CHAPTER

50

THE MEETING WAS NOT SCHEDULED.

It really didn’t have to be.

Sam Kent sat on one side of the small oval table. Across from him was another man, younger, fitter, shorter, with hands like bricks and a torso like a wall.

His name was Anthony Zim.

He did not go by Tony.

“They picked Robie for obvious reasons,” said Kent.

Zim nodded. “Good choice. He knows what he’s doing.”

“And he’s not off the grid like you.”

“I’m not off the grid, Mr. Kent,” Zim corrected. “I’m offline. There’s a difference, a big one.”

“I realize that,” said Kent quietly. “I was instrumental in putting you there. Where we could maximize your talents.”

Zim said nothing. He placed his palms on the tabletop. Even sitting he kept his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He could move in an instant if he needed to. And over the years he had needed to on many occasions.

“Jessica Reel,” said Kent.

Zim just sat there, waiting.

Kent continued, “She’s out there and she’s growing more troublesome by the minute.”

“She was always good at that.”

“I take it you knew her well?”

“No one knew Reel well. Just like no one knows Robie. They kept it all inside. Just like I do. Goes with the territory.”

“But you worked with her?”

“Yes.”

“And Robie?

“Twice. Both in support roles. Turns out he didn’t need the support.”

“Can you take out either or both of them, if it comes to it?”

“Yes. If the conditions are right.”

“We can try to make sure they are.”

“I need you to do better than try.”

Kent frowned. “I came to you because I understood you were one of the best.”

“You’re asking me to go after two people who may be as good as me. Singly I can probably take them. Together, there are no guarantees.”

“Then we have to make sure they never get together.”

“Robie is tasked to go after her. Maybe he’ll get there and save you the trouble.”

“There have been recent developments with Robie that give me some concern about that happening.”

Zim shifted his weight slightly. “Such as?”

“Reportedly he’s starting to think for himself on this rather than following orders. And it’s more than that.”

“I need to know it all.”

“Reel has been communicating with him. Telling him things.”

“Manipulating him, you mean. She’s good at that.”

“I didn’t think you knew her well?”