by Noah Boyd
She glanced at each of the sculptures again. “What’s with the no-heads?”
He took another swallow of beer. For the first time that day, she sensed a reluctance to answer a question, an evasion of the blunt answers that seemed to come naturally to him. “I find faces distracting. I’m always trying to figure out what the models were thinking about at the time, even what language they might be thinking in. Probably studying Russian and reading Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky all those years has scarred me for life. Besides, I’ve tried faces. They all wind up looking like they’re from Middle Earth.”
The explanation seemed superficially dismissive, one that he never quite believed himself. Remembering Detroit now, she wondered if there was a natural distance he preferred. Back then everyone assumed it was some sort of extension of his inexplicable modesty. Armed with this new insight, she looked around and could find no television or magazines or personal photos. Apparently not even pictures of faces were allowed. The real question, she supposed, was what had made him like that. “Even though you didn’t say yes right away, I’m surprised getting you to come back to Washington wasn’t more difficult.”
“As you can see, my sculpting business isn’t going that well. And the job I just finished was the only one I had scheduled.”
Again, she detected a slightly hollow ring to his reasons. “You know, if you’re interested in getting your job back permanently, that could be arranged.”
“I’m not looking for permanent right now, just different.”
She smiled and nodded, deciding to lighten the conversation. “I think I can pretty much guarantee that this is going to be different.”
“Give me fifteen minutes. The phone’s over there.”
Kate sipped at her beer absentmindedly as she listened to the shower. She stood over the unfinished sculpture, admiring its virility. The shoulder and upper arm muscles seemed too large to be realistic, but it gave off a kind of primitive indestructibility. Then, closing her hand, she let her fingertips massage her palm, recalling the callused strength of Vail’s handshake. She let the tip of her finger run lightly down the curve of the figure’s spine like a drop of warm water.
SIX
AS THEY WERE BOARDING THE PLANE, KATE THOUGHT SHE MIGHT have a chance to find out more about Vail. That he had recognized her on sight had made her curious, even flattered. As far as she recalled, their eyes had never met in the year and a half they were in Detroit together. Now seemed like a good opportunity to find out why he remembered her.
Vail took the window seat without asking her preference, and by the time she got settled, he was sound asleep. He didn’t wake up until the plane’s tires chirped onto the tarmac at Dulles International. “Why are you looking at me like that, was I snoring?”
She smiled. “No, in fact for the first time today, you were perfect company.”
“Is that how you like your men, unconscious?”
“My men? You make it sound like I collect scalps.”
“Human beings are collectors by nature. Ownership, control. Breaching someone else’s defenses. In one form or another, we all do it. It’s part of the chase.”
“Chase? What are we chasing?”
“That’s what men—excuse me—men and women since Pythagoras have been trying to figure out.”
“Pythagoras?”
“Yes, there were Greek philosophers before Socrates.”
“The guy with the triangle?”
“The square of the hypotenuse. He believed that the soul was immortal. Do you think your soul is immortal?” Vail asked.
“Deputy assistant directors are not allowed to have souls.”
“Or to collect scalps?”
“Actually that’s a requirement.”
He leaned close to her with mock intimacy. “Tell me something, Deputy Assistant Director Bannon, is that all I am to you—advancement?”
“Like you said, bricklayer, we all need something to chase.”
THE DIRECTOR HAD given his secretary instructions to show Kate and Vail into his office as soon as they arrived. When they entered, Lasker was seated at his desk signing a stack of paperwork. Directly behind him stood Don Kaulcrick, taking each of the documents after it was signed and barely looking at them.
Lasker rose and offered Vail his hand. “Steve, thanks for coming, and on such short notice. This is one of our assistant directors, Don Kaulcrick.” Vail shook Lasker’s hand. The director waved Vail into a chair. “Your way of ending a hostage standoff is impressive.”
“You’d think someone who did this job for a while would know better than to go inside a bank on Friday afternoon.”
Lasker laughed. “Let me ask you something that’s been driving all of us around here nuts. After it was over, why did you just walk away?”
“I never really thought about it. But if it drove everyone nuts, especially around here, that’s reward enough.”
Lasker picked up a file that had Vail’s name printed on the cover. “Is that a warning? In case you decide to help us.”
“I would think after reading my personnel file that question would be unnecessary.”
Lasker smiled. “I’m starting to understand why you were fired.”
Vail laughed. “I can’t see how it could have turned out any other way. It was a train wreck just waiting for the Bureau and me to be thrown in each other’s way. No one especially wanted it, but at the same time no one cared enough to prevent it, most of all me. A bureaucracy has to have the ability to self-repair if it’s going to be able to function. I’ve never done well knowing anyone has that kind of authority over me.”
“So when you turned down a pass from OPR if you’d give up the ASAC, you weren’t just being loyal?”
Vail turned to Kate. “I suppose Kent Wilson is an SAC somewhere by now.”
“San Diego.”
“Ah. At least they sent him to someplace with bad weather.” He turned back to the director. “Let’s just say I had other priorities.”
“Like not letting a cop killer go free?”
Vail looked surprised, and Kate felt a small twinge of pleasure at uncovering something about Vail that he apparently hadn’t wanted revealed. “I assumed that this command performance would be for some sort of more immediate problem.”
“Sorry. Around here, constantly checking motives is necessary for survival. In that vein—while I know it’s not necessary to say this to you—I have to ask that what you’re about to hear not leave the room.” Vail nodded. “You’ve heard about the ‘Enemies of the FBI’ murders.”
“As much as I try to avoid the news, it’d be hard not to.”
“Then I’m sure you know that a group calling itself the Rubaco Pentad is claiming credit for the killings. While they appear to be some sort of domestic terrorism group on a crusade, they have actually made large monetary demands to stop the murders.”
“Who were they demanding it from?”
“The FBI.”
“Not lacking confidence, are they? And you’re not letting the public know about it because…”
“One of their demands is that if we do, they’ll kill another prominent person. It’s an ingenious tactic. Since we can’t reveal their motives, it looks like we’re the ones with the hidden agenda, as if it’s just a matter of time before some vast governmental conspiracy is exposed. We’re really handcuffed.”
“I could see how you would be,” Vail said. “Since I’m here, I assume things didn’t go well at the drop.”
“They turned it into a deadly obstacle course. It seemed like they didn’t really want us to deliver the money. The agent making the delivery was shot to death.”
“I assume the entire million wasn’t in the money package?”
“Just a thousand dollars, and they left that at the scene.”
“A warning that they’d be back,” Vail said.
“Yes, it certainly was.”
“Any decent leads come out of it?”
The director said, “Don, you
’ve been handling that.”
Kaulcrick said, “There was some scuba equipment used we’re trying to trace, but it’s almost impossible. And the prison was on a secure naval base, so we’re in the process of finding out who’s had access to it the last couple of months. It’s literally thousands of people, so it could take forever.”
“Sounds like somebody knows how to get you to burn manpower.”
“Are you suggesting it’s a waste of time?” Kaulcrick asked.
“Not at all. You never know what lead is going to be productive. But it sounds like they picked the base because the bigger and more complicated the location, the more time it takes to investigate. It seems that their major weapon is distraction. Leads like that need a lot of manpower but tend to never go anywhere.”
“There’s no question they know how to manipulate the investigation,” Lasker said.
“So what happened at the second drop?” Vail said.
“Who said anything about a second drop?” Kaulcrick asked abruptly, glancing at Kate.
“The second and third murders did,” Vail said. “Don, I’m here because I’m on your side.”
“I have to apologize for everyone, Steve,” Lasker said. “I’ve been so insistent that this not leak out, everyone has become paranoid about it. You’ve given your word and that’s certainly good enough. What I’m about to tell you is even more sensitive.” He then described the second demand letter along with its instruction for Bertok’s role in the delivery of money. He detailed the route and the Bureau’s inability to follow at an effective distance, and finally the disappearance of the agent and the two million dollars.
“So you want me to find Bertok.”
“Yes. And should you recover the money, we wouldn’t object.”
“It couldn’t have been an easy decision letting the full two million drive away.”
“When you got the press holding you hostage twenty-four hours a day with the possibility of not stopping the next murder, it was a surprisingly easy call.”
Vail became lost in thought. Kate waited a few seconds and then said, “I’m sure you’ve got a million questions.”
“Nothing I need to waste everyone’s time with right now. You haven’t got the next demand letter yet, have you?”
“Not yet,” Lasker said.
“Chances are the price will be going up. Do you think the delivery will be as difficult?”
“We hope not,” the director said. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Kaulcrick said, “We were hoping to identify them first.”
“Any promising leads?”
Neither Kate nor Kaulcrick answered. Finally Lasker said, “Not really.”
“That’s too bad, but I guess it won’t affect me finding Bertok, which, by the way, is not going to be easy.”
Everyone was silent for a few seconds before the director said, “Actually the two problems may overlap. All three victims, and the agent at the drop, were killed with the same gun, a Glock model 22. That’s the same model Bertok carried.”
“There are thousands of those guns out there,” Vail said. “Why would you think he could be involved?”
“Well, he was designated by name to make the drop, and whoever is doing this has a good knowledge of extortions, which Bertok worked. Plus he did disappear along with the money. I certainly hope he’s not involved, but to be perfectly honest, we don’t know.”
“If it’s him, why this last murder?”
Kaulcrick said, “In theory, he could be looking down the road for a defense. Why would he kill again if he already had the money? He’s in law enforcement. He’s used to seeing people getting caught when they thought they couldn’t be. It’s cheap insurance. Three murders or four, they can only give him the needle once.”
“I guess it’s possible, although that would take someone who is extremely cold—but I suppose two million dollars can get you to a lot of warm places,” Vail said.
Lasker said, “So, Steve, will you help us?”
“If I agree, I have a couple of conditions.”
“I’m certain we can work them out.” The director opened a drawer, took out a black case with a gold FBI shield pinned to the outside, and slid it across the desk.
Vail opened the credentials and looked at his photo, which had been taken during new agents’ training. “It’s hard to believe I was ever that…on board.” He closed the case and put it in his jacket pocket.
“Whether you find Bertok or not, I can make that permanent, with all the seniority, including the time you’ve been out of government service.”
“I appreciate the offer, but it may be premature. I’m not here to find out if I can now be a good soldier. I know I can’t. What you want me to do is difficult, which means, because of the methods I may find necessary, it’s likely just a matter of time until you’ll regret bringing me into this.”
“Right now that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
Vail smiled. “That’s exactly what my last ASAC said to me.”
The director forced a short laugh. “Okay, but if you don’t want your job back, we’ll have to pay you something. How about a percentage of any money recovered, or a flat amount for finding Bertok?”
“Which brings us back to the conditions. Two items. First, I’m sure at some point I’ll have to get assistance from FBI field offices. Unless SACs have changed, they’re not going to like taking orders from some imported street hump. So I’m going to need someone with enough capital letters in front of his—or her—name to make those guys nervous.”
“Like Deputy Assistant Director Bannon?” Lasker said.
Vail looked at her. “How about it, Kate, think you can make the right men tremble?”
She felt herself starting to blush, but extinguished it with a sarcastic smirk. “Looks like I’m going to be the one taking orders from some imported street hump.”
“And second?” the director asked.
“That I not be paid.”
Confusion narrowed the director’s eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Vail smiled. “If I’m being paid, sooner or later someone will consider me an employee and start giving me orders. We all know how that’ll end. No, my payment is to not have to take orders from anyone. Maybe when we’re done—if I’m successful—I’ll add up my hours and you can pay me the hourly rate for a bricklayer.”
“Then what’s to prevent you from becoming a loose cannon?” Kaulcrick asked.
“Hopefully nothing.”
“I have to tell you, I voted against bringing you into this,” Kaulcrick said. “I’m sorry. There’s enough confusion.”
“If you keep being that honest, Don, you and I will survive. Even through the confusion.”
Lasker said, “If you don’t want anything more than a pittance, why would you take on something like this?”
Vail looked over at Kate. “Apparently, because I can.”
SEVEN
VAIL SAT AT THE DESK IN HIS D.C. HOTEL ROOM READING FROM THE from the Rubaco Pentad case, including crime-scene photos, lab reports, and surveillance logs, had been downloaded into it. For such a clandestine operation, an incredible amount of material had been reduced to writing. As he took another bite of the cold room-service hamburger, there was a knock at the door.
It was Kate. Although holding a briefcase with both hands in front of her, indicating her visit was official, she had changed clothes and was wearing a dress and heels. “Hi,” she said, and walked in, looking around. “How’s the room?”
“You’ve seen my apartment, how good does it have to be?”
“Good, good,” she said distractedly. “Is there anything else you need?”
“What are you offering?” he said in a playful voice.
“Equipment, bricklayer, equipment. Like an agent’s handbook or a pair of brass knuckles.”
“I’m not the kind of person who thinks about his obituary, but I’d hate for it to read, ‘He died because he brought a laptop to a
gunfight.’”
“Okay, I’ll get you a weapon,” she said. “We’ll need to get you to a firearms range to qualify.”
“Do you really think there’s time for that?”
“It’s pretty much an unbreakable rule. You know, lawsuits.”
“Isn’t it my job to break rules?”
After a moment, she said, “Okay, I’ll have it for you tomorrow. I’ve ordered up a Bureau plane. I assume we’ll be flying to Las Vegas to try to pick up Bertok’s trail.”
“I was thinking more like L.A.”
“Why L.A.?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Call it a hunch. And don’t think that the Cubs having three games with the Dodgers this week has anything to do with it.”
Kate studied Vail’s face and found the same unreadable expression he presented when asked about anything he didn’t want to answer. She was sure of one thing: his decision to start in Los Angeles had nothing to do with baseball or intuition. He had found some way to track Bertok that no one else had thought of. “You know this is going to be a lot easier if we don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Cosmo says that a little mystery can keep a relationship from getting stale.”
“There are only a few things in life that are unquestionable. That you’ve never read Cosmopolitan magazine is one of the most certain. Why L.A.?”
“First of all, it’s about as far away from your boss as we can get. I know his type and I know my type. We’ve all seen how that movie ends.”
“And second of all?”
“Simple math. How many times have each of the following locations come up in the case: New Hampshire, Pittsburgh, Utah, Arizona, and Las Vegas?”
“Once each.”
“And Los Angeles?”
“I don’t know, a half dozen?”
“Everything from the first victim to the postmarks on both demand letters to Bertok. Besides, I want to search his apartment again.”