Death and Dark Money

by Seeley James

  She turned her face to the warm water and let it slide down her body. She soaped up and rinsed off and shampooed and conditioned and rinsed and stepped out. She toweled off and blow-dried her hair and brushed her teeth and darkened her eyebrows and dragged out a thin line of eyeliner and applied a light lipstick. She pulled out a new Lululemon outfit, donned it, and did a once-over. She put the cap back on her lipstick.

  She looked down at her makeup on the counter—and then it hit her.

  She knew who it was. Jacob told her days ago but neither of them knew what it meant.

  It all came down to lipstick.

  She went back to the gym to tell Tania and Miguel but they were in a deep conversation about something. Since they had been an item at one point, she decided to leave well enough alone for the moment. She picked up her phone to call Jacob, saw she had messages, and decided to listen to them.

  The first was from Captain Cates, who had discovered the information David Gottleib tried to give Jacob in a .50 caliber bullet. Cates explained the contents in great detail. Pia’s next message was from the Major, updating her on Cates, Jacob, and the status of operations.

  The third message stopped her heart.

  “Goddamn it!” She grabbed Tania by the shoulder. “Koven’s holding Dad hostage.”

  Tania and Miguel shook their heads in disbelief.

  “What do we know about his defenses?” Pia asked. “Who are the authorities in that region?”

  “Rip Blackson walked into our Paris office yesterday,” Miguel said. “He’ll have those answers.”

  Pia called Emily Lunger at the Post. “It’s time to release your scoop, and it’s bigger than you can imagine.”

  She explained how the pattern of shots fired in the château, first one, then a second, followed by two more in rapid succession, a three second pause, and two more fit the profile of the remote triggers. The first two shots were Koven killing the Velox men, the two quick shots were the remote triggers, and the final two were execution shots. The patterns of ricochets and blood splatter would prove the Velox guns were fired from the floor, not standing positions.

  She explained the foreign contributions to American political campaigns and referred her to Captain Cates for the Gottleib recordings. She sent photos of the prince’s contract, the corroborating evidence, and her recordings of Koven, Suliman, and Taimur. She shared her cloud drive with Emily and clicked off.

  “Koven can’t be that big a threat,” Tania said.

  “He’s the fall guy,” Pia said. “There’s something bigger driving LOCI and something sparked the murder of Gottleib. That’s where the threat lies.”

  She took a deep breath and called Koven back. The instant he picked up the phone, she ranted. “Say your prayers, Koven. You’ll be in hell in thirty-six hours.”

  Narrow strips of white snow glinted on the edges of Paris’s gray-black slushy streets when her jet broke through the overcast skies.

  Jacob finally answered his phone.

  “They let him go.” Jacob shouted. “Un-fucking-believable. Apparently, if you’re a black-budget contractor, you don’t have to answer for murder and kidnapping. The CIA pulled a get-out-of-jail card and he’s—”

  “Do you think he’s behind LOCI?” Pia asked.

  “No question. He’s wired into every dirty cop on every continent.”

  “Then who funded him?”

  “Good question.”

  “You already know. When you rob tens of millions from the world’s rich and powerful, you need a security team like LOCI, not Sabel Security. Koven thinks he’s building an empire, so it wasn’t him. Who just lost everything?”

  Jacob inhaled. “You’re right. I can’t believe it. All this over a daddy-likes-you-better thing.”

  “A what?”

  “If you had siblings, you’d understand.”

  Pia emailed Bianca while she talked. “We have Blackson.”

  Jacob asked, “Will he know who’s calling the shots on the ground?”

  “Would you trust his answer?”

  “I have a good feeling about him—even if he was a Marine. Why? You don’t trust him?”

  “Why did Blackson come to us now, after Paul Benning’s body was found?”

  “Yeah. He opened up to me about Koven’s dealings, but he never shed light on Suliman or anything else.” Jacob thought for a moment. “I feel you. Tell him I’ll kick his ass if he lies to you. Hey, they’re calling our flight. By the way, Carlos is stoked about you buying him a first-class seat. He’s never ridden up front before.”

  Pia clicked off.

  They made their way to the Sabel Security offices overlooking Esplanade de La Défense, in the business district of Paris. Blackson looked like a man who’d spent the last two days hiding in a business office, sponging his baths and sleeping on a couch—because he had. He sat at a large conference table, leaning on it to keep from falling over.

  Pia put the briefcase on the table, turned her phone off, and sat a couple seats away. “This is a quiet enough place where we can discuss the horrible things your firm has done.”

  “My firm?” Blackson looked up quickly. His mouth hung open, his hands spread wide in protest. “You have to help us. You can put a stop to this madness. I spoke to Brent’s baby-mama a few days ago. It sickened me to make that call.”

  “I hate murder as much as you.” She fixed an angry gaze on him and leaned back. “I’ve discovered evidence of Koven’s heinous crimes. I will be sure he faces justice.” She pulled Prince Taimur’s contract out and slapped it on the table. “But your actions tell me you considered Koven an honest man for years. You served under him in the Marines, you joined his firm, and you made a lot of money. Why should I trust you now?”

  “I’m here. I’m offering my help.”

  “How do I know you’re not offering me up as a sacrifice?”

  “I’m no criminal.”

  “And Koven is.” She tapped her finger on the table and let the awkward silence stretch. “How do I know you’re not here under duress?”

  Speechless, he sat still. The building’s central heat kicked in and warmer air poured over them, taking the edge off the chill. He exhaled and glanced around. He put his hands on the table and slumped.

  “You were my best hope.” Blackson dropped his gaze. “If you don’t trust me, I’ll have to find someone else.”

  Pia watched him.

  He pushed back from the table and gathered his thoughts. “It’s a sad day if I’ve failed to convince the only woman above bribery to save our country. I guess Koven wins. He can influence the election, bend the rules, line his pockets with donations from foreigners.”

  “Don’t pull that passive-aggressive crap on me.” She pushed the contract across the table. “Only a fool would trust you without checking you out first. So tell me, why did you come here now? Why not earlier, when David Gottleib reached out to Jacob?”

  Blackson leafed through the contract. “Until Tom’s death, Koven never confided in me. I wasn’t on his team. Then he didn’t trust me. When he rescheduled the symposium, he had to rely on my help. I was the only one left.”

  He scanned several more pages, then stopped and held his place with a finger.

  “When I figured out what he was doing,” he said, “I was disgusted. I couldn’t hide it any longer. It was the same stuff that pissed off David. I worked with your father and Benning to record Koven incriminating himself, but he discovered the microphone.”

  Blackson’s lips trembled. He buried his face in his hands. “I ran.”

  “What makes you think I’m not out to take over these contracts?”

  Blackson looked up and shook his head. “Jacob wouldn’t work for someone like that.”

  “You think Jacob is honest?”

  Blackson told her the story of Nasiriyah.

  “Some of the guys said he was guided by God,” Blackson said. “I’m not religious. But there was something beyond the human experience in what he did.”r />
  “There’s more to Jacob than most people realize.”

  “Koven promised me a job after the war,” Blackson said. “We changed our stories to make Koven look good. I know for a fact that Jacob is willing to fight and die for people he never met, and that Koven is willing to lie and cheat to get what he wants.”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the news imply that I killed Müller, Suliman, and Taimur. Why would you trust me?”

  “Because you don’t have the motive. I don’t know who’s responsible for those murders, but I know why.”

  Pia gestured for him to go on.

  “Our firm had over $100 million in several funds destined for the Future Crossroads Super PAC. You know about Müller, Suliman, and Taimur. There were sixteen more foreign players trying to lobby Congress. I looked up a few of them. One was a businessman out of Mumbai who died in a boating accident three days ago. Another was a Serb who was shot by cops at a traffic stop last week. Two days ago, someone sent the money to a numbered account in Switzerland and then transferred it to a brand-new company in Luxembourg. In a week, that money will be in Singapore or the Bahamas.”

  Pia sat back. “You think Koven is stealing from his own bribery funds?”

  “Everyone else is dead.” Blackson rubbed his face. “But it doesn’t make any sense. Some of those guys are bad dudes, like the Russian, Yeshenko. They’d kill him and he knows it.”

  “It’s not Koven. There’s another person who had access—”

  A young man from the Paris office rushed in, out of breath, his cheeks red. “Sorry for the interruption, mademoiselle. There has been a fire. Terrible, terrible fire.”

  He showed her a news item on his smartphone and glanced at Blackson.

  Pia read the screen and followed his gaze. Blackson returned their looks with a growing understanding of the implication.

  “You’re not talking about my house.” Blackson stared down the Frenchman.

  “I am most sorry sir.” The Frenchman hesitated. “They said all lives were lost.”

  “My wife? Oh my god. Not my children. My innocent children?”

  “They said everyone, I am sorry…” The young man glanced back at Pia. She excused him with a nod.

  “I should’ve been there.” Blackson stood, pounding a fist to his forehead. “Coming here because I hate Koven so much cost them their lives. I should’ve gone home. I could’ve protected them.”

  Pia rose and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Memories of violent men crashing into her parents’ home flooded her mind. Blackson’s grief was her grief, but she pushed her memories from her head and focused on his loss. She knew what hit him, the emptiness of losing everyone in your life at once. Visions of the lively spirits you knew so well, gone. No goodbyes, no parting words, no miracles.

  Blackson sobbed for a minute then sniffled and flinched as anger wrenched his heart. “That son of a bitch, I’ll kill him.”

  Pia said, “I’ll take care of that part.”

  “Take me with you.” He faced her, anger and grief contorting his face. “I know the castle.”

  In a soft voice, she said, “It won’t bring them back.”

  He turned away and broke down. Tears leaked between the fingers covering his face. His sobs echoed in the room. He staggered to a chair and collapsed in it, his elbows hit the table, his face in his hands.

  Pia stepped behind him. In her experience, there were no words that could soothe the flayed soul.

  In the hall outside the glass wall, the staff of the Paris office commiserated in muted support. Like bystanders at a train wreck, they felt the pain and sorrow yet felt helpless to help. Nothing could be offered beyond sympathy.

  Pia pulled her last tissue from her pocket and offered it to Rip Blackson.

  Blackson blew his nose and took a few deep breaths that he held in a desperate attempt to pull himself together.

  “It’s OK,” Pia said. “Grief is what forms us.”

  “I can’t believe they’re gone. Maybe there was a mistake.”

  She shook her head and handed him her phone, opened to the Post’s coverage of the blaze in McLean.

  He read it and broke down again.

  After a long time, Pia asked, “What can you tell me about the castle?”

  “He thinks he’s unbeatable. He says that no one on Earth can touch him.”

  “He’s wrong.”

  CHAPTER 40

  The last rays of sunlight stabbed between the horizon and the low-hanging clouds, lighting up the underside in a glorious yellow that quickly gave way to orange, then turned blood red before darkening out. Koven stood at the tower window, watching the brief sunset and listening to the Velox men as they joked with each other across the castle walls.

  Someone knocked on his door. He told them to come in.

  Kasey Earl entered. “It appears the Sabel agent, Dhanpal, done escaped somehow.”

  “Somehow?” Koven stayed at the window, his gaze fixed across the river. “As if you weren’t in charge of his captivity? Do you think I’m that stupid? Why not just admit it—Alan Sabel bribed one of your men.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. Alan’s still here. If he done the bribe, he’d be gone and Dhanpal would—”

  “Oh god, you’re an idiot. Men like Sabel don’t run, they let their servants go. It seems like an honorable thing, but in reality, he wants to see if you’ll shoot Dhanpal in the back.”

  “We didn’t shoot him in the back.”

  “Then take ten men, track him down, shoot him in the back.”

  Kasey said nothing.

  Koven turned to face the earless man. “You lost him, go get him back.”

  “Yeah, um, we only got thirty-two men left. And, well, he run off this morning.”

  “You’re just telling me now?” Koven’s face flushed crimson and shook with rage. “What the hell happened to all the men we’ve been feeding these last few days?”

  “Oh, the cops is with LOCI.” Kasey shuffled his feet. “They kinda freaked about the Benning thing.”

  “And they deserted at the last minute?” Koven took a deep breath and tugged his jacket. “Let them run. Damned cowards. I had enough courage to face down a hundred Iraqi Republican Guard in Nasiriyah, I’ve never been afraid of anything.”

  Kasey stood at sloppy attention the way lazy men will. His eyes rolled listless and unfocused.

  Koven said, “You look pale, Kasey. Are you scared of something?”

  “Them three blonde ladies are out there, interviewing everybody, and we’ve been thinking—”

  “You fool! Those reporters are on my side.” Koven stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But you’re not worried about the press. What is it? Out with it.”

  “Word is Pia Sabel’s on her way, gonna rescue her dad.”

  “So?”

  Kasey said nothing.

  “You have plenty of men.” Koven’s volume increased. “You own the high ground, you’re in a stone fortress that’s lasted a thousand years, and you’re afraid of a girl with a few washed-up veterans?”

  “Cooper and Stearne ain’t exactly washed—”

  “Everyone knows what’s coming. These walls will keep them out. Let them try climbing up or throwing a line over. They’ll end up sitting outside waiting until they get hungry and go home with their tails between their legs. If we hadn’t lost half of your people, we could’ve taken the fight to them. Grow some balls. Your CO told me you’re unbeaten.”

  “Uh. Usually. Except for the times we tangled with Sabel—”

  “Get out of here.” Koven turned back to the window. “And put some makeup on that lily-white face of yours before you scare your own troops.”

  Kasey dashed, leaving the door open behind him.

  Another knock made Koven furious. He turned, face flushed, ready to scream at Kasey. Instead, he found a man leaning against the door jamb.

  “Jago Seyton,” Koven said through clenched teeth. “You’ve returned.”

  Jago
patted his thighs and made a small smile.

  “I’m sure you’ve read the news,” Koven said. “Blackson got away but you managed to burn his wife and children alive.”

  Jago shrugged.

  “That’s all you have to say about your spectacular failure?” Koven peered at the man. “Why in god’s name did Tom hire you?”

  “He didn’t.” Jago pushed off the jamb and strode into the center of the room. “Hyde insisted he bring me on. You see, Hyde and I go way back. All the way to the beginning of time.”

  Koven laughed once and turned back to stare at the valley. “This is what I get? Failures and deserters. No one who can do a simple job properly.”

  Jago frowned. “You talking about me?”

  “I’m talking about everyone.” Koven swept his arm over the countryside. “I’m at the pinnacle of my career, Jago. I hold the future of our country in my hands. The power that everyone seeks through their endless intrigues is mine—all mine. I’m the guy they write books about!”

  He strode across the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I should have thousands of followers on Facebook. I should have blog posts dissecting my path to success. I should have people tripping over each other to carry my laptop. Instead, I have you, an incompetent killer, his aging alcoholic mentor, and a platoon of scared Velox men manning the ramparts.”

  “Against what enemy are they defending me?” Koven tossed a tablet at Jago, open to a defamatory website. “Even if bullets stop my problems I still get nothing but allegations from unnamed sources. They write backstabbing innuendos about the evils befalling our august firm. They claim it’s some form of instant karma. Well, damn them all to hell.”

  Jago shrugged, his eyes narrowed to slits. “People like you talk a lot when they’re scared.”

  Another knuckle rapped the door.

  Koven turned to Senator Hyde, who stood in the doorway, his swollen eyes downcast.

  “She didn’t make it.” Hyde’s voice was soft. “They did everything they could.”

  Jago and Hyde stood still.

  Koven crossed to them and stared. “Hell, who even cares? She ran out on me when I needed her strength the most.”