by Leigh Barker
Dryer’s jaw fell open and he half rose from his chair. “What did you just call me?”
“Sit down before you do yourself a mischief,” Ethan said. “I said you were a shitty agent. And I don’t need to be a detective, of sorts, to deduce why.” He stepped past Kelsey’s chair and put his hands on Dryer’s desk. “You’ve got some tunnel-vision notion that I want to assassinate the President.” He shook his head in disbelief. “How in God’s name did you get to that? Because I asked Gunny to watch him?” He leaned forward. “Or is there something else going on in that sack of shit you call your brain?”
Dryer pushed his chair back from his desk. To get away.
“Get this through your bone head,” Ethan said. “If I’d wanted to assassinate my commander in chief.” He narrowed his eyes. “He… would… be… dead.” The words squeezed through his clenched jaw.
“I didn’t…” Dryer said, trying to push his chair back through the wall. “It was just…”
“Stupid?” Ethan said. “Yeah. Politicking to cover your ass. And that politicking got your agent’s lungs blown out through his chest.”
Ethan pushed himself off the desk and stepped back behind Kelsey, giving her a wink as he went. She looked away.
Dryer rolled his chair back to his desk and took a sip of water from the glass next to his terminal. He licked his lips, swallowed hard, and straightened his jacket. Then he was back in control.
“Look at it from my point of view,” he said. “It’s common knowledge that SecNav has aspirations for high office—”
“Not to me it isn’t,” Ethan said.
“Well, to everybody on the Hill it is,” Dryer said.
“So what?”
“A week ago there was a wealth of players ready to run against him, better players who would certainly have won a race for the Senate.”
“And?”
“And now most of them are dead. Killed by some…”
He was going to say imagined, and everybody heard it not being said.
“By a terrorist we can’t find hide nor hair of. With all our resources,” Dryer said.
“So,” Ethan said, “you think I’m his gun thug knocking off the opposition?” He couldn’t keep from smiling.
“I realise now that this was…” He coughed.
“Stupid?”
“Well, I was going to say ill-considered, but I’ll accept that it was foolish.”
“Stupid,” Ethan corrected.
Dryer clenched his jaw and glared at him, but let it go.
“And now?” Kelsey said.
“And now,” Dryer said, switching his attention to her, with obvious relief. “Now I think he is not planning to assassinate the President.”
He waited. Ethan wondered if he expected applause or a thank you.
“So you’re not going to send any more of your agents to shoot him?” Kelsey asked, in a tone that sounded almost reasonable.
“No, of course not,” Dryer said. “I didn’t send Rayford.”
“That was his idea, then?” Ethan said.
“Yes.”
Ethan was silent for several seconds; then he spoke very softly. “I’ll remember you said that.”
“Now that’s cleared up and we’re all friends again,” Teddy said from his window perch, “can we get back to the case.” He raised his eyebrows in response to the question hanging in the air. “The case? Faraj killing off all our generals? That case.”
Dryer turned over his stack of documents, sifted through a few and scanned one. “Your people,” he said, tapping the paper.
Ethan knew exactly which people he meant. “Which people?”
“Your… squad.”
“Right, let’s call them that, then, shall we?” He smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. “They took off from Andrews in the early hours, bound for Afghanistan.”
They saw his declaration take the wind out of Dryer’s sails. Which was the whole point of making it.
“Err…” Dryer looked at the document for inspiration. “What are they going to do there?” And not getting it.
“Faraj’s village is less than a hundred klicks from Kabul.” He shrugged. “I asked them to go take a look.”
“What? Why?” Dryer’s face returned to the crimson it had been for most of the meeting. “On whose authority?”
“Didn’t know I needed authorization for my boys to go on a little vacation.”
“To a war zone?” Dryer’s eyes were wide with fury.
“They like the excitement.”
He looked at the email again. “They’re using a private jet!” Dryer’s expression was bordering on shock. “Not even I get to use a private jet.”
Ethan gave him a moment to think about it. “Nothing but the best for our fighting men, right?”
“How the hell did you get approval for that? It must have cost more than my whole departmental budget.”
“And some,” Ethan said helpfully.
“To fly to a war zone?” he repeated, a little breathlessly. “Chasing a ghost who’s already here. It’s a waste of time and taxpayers’ dollars.”
“Can’t hurt,” Kelsey said, to save the agent in charge from an early demise.
Dryer glared at her and gradually calmed down. “I want a full report on everything they find.” That would have to do.
“Of course,” Kelsey said, with a squinting look at Ethan, who was enjoying this way too much. “It’s standard procedure. Share and share alike. Joint operation.”
“It is not a joint operation,” Dryer said. “It is my operation.” He stood up. “Full report. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Special Agent Dryer,” Ethan said, standing up straight. “Loud and clear. Full report.”
Dryer stamped out of the office, and Ethan and Teddy exchanged a grin.
“That went well,” Teddy said.
“I thought so,” Ethan said, and stepped away from Kelsey’s chair so she could get up.
“I thought he was going to shoot you at one point,” she said, and sighed.
“Been tried.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Teddy said. “Where to now?”
Ethan stopped with his hand on the door. “Thought I’d go and find out who sent the hit man after me. Call it idle curiosity.”
Teddy slid off the sill, stopped and closed his eyes.
“What?” Kelsey said.
“I’m getting old. I’m supposed to be an analyst.”
Ethan came back and stood next to the desk, waiting.
“Stupid, stupid,” Teddy said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, we all know that, but what else?” Ethan said.
Teddy took a moment to answer, as if collecting the threads. “One of the PAs on the top floor,” he started, then took a long breath and his head did the shaking-in-shame thing.
“Teddy, my feet are getting tired,” Ethan said.
Teddy looked up. “Marjorie Spacey, she’s… never mind. She got a message yesterday from her friend. She works… worked for Senator Wakeman.”
“Right, he’s dead,” Kelsey said.
“Yes.”
“What was the message?” Ethan said.
“Her friend, Melissa Bates.” Teddy licked his lips. “Said she was sorry.”
Ethan frowned. “That it? Sorry? For what?”
“That’s the whole point,” Teddy said. “It took us a while to work it through, but it seems Marjorie sent her friend a login to our extranet. Specifically this case file.”
“She did what?” Ethan said. “Does everybody in Washington know our every move?”
“Why would she do that?” Kelsey said, ignoring him.
“No reason not to, her friend has clearance and General Davy was on the committee she works for.”
“What committee’s that?” Kelsey asked, in NCIS agent mode.
“Military procurement,” Teddy said, then looked straight at Ethan. “Senator Wakeman’s committee.”
“And she gave the login to somebody with an interest i
n supplying military hardware?” Ethan said.
Teddy nodded. “The Christian Diem Corporation,” he said. “To the man himself.” He sat in Dryer’s chair, as if he was suddenly tired. “She told Marjorie the senator wanted to stay in touch with the progress on finding the killer of one of his military advisors.”
“And she just gave our reports to her? Outstanding.” Ethan leaned on the windowsill vacated by Teddy.
“And it only just clicked.” Teddy looked down, a little ashamed. “Don’t you see?”
“Yeah, I do,” Ethan said. “We’re chasing Faraj for assassinating generals, turns out this piece of shit Diem—”
“Carter,” Teddy said. “Diem’s his corporation.”
“Whatever. While we’re looking at terrorists, he has a hitman extending the list to cover senators and congressmen.”
“Two killers?” Kelsey said. “That seems a bit of a stretch.”
“He was in danger of losing his big contract,” Ethan said. “When his… mole gave him access to our case file, he saw a way to fix things. And took it.”
“But that’s nuts,” Kelsey said. “He had Senator Wakeman killed just to get a contract?”
“Yeah, nuts,” Teddy said. “Contract’s worth twelve billion dollars.”
“Okay then, that’s motive.” Kelsey said. “We go pick up this… Christian Billionaire and I can get back to my normal life.” She saw Ethan’s expression. “What? You don’t think I’ve got a normal life?”
“I suspect not,” Ethan said. “But picking up Christian… Billionaire isn’t down to us. He’s a civilian and he killed a civilian.”
“We’re FBI, at least borrowing their hats,” she said, and glanced at Teddy. “No offence.”
He shrugged. None taken.
“And what about Davy?” she said. “He’s military.”
“Carter didn’t kill Davy,” Ethan said. “That happened before he got the login. But it was what gave him the idea.”
“Okay then,” Kelsey said, “but I still think Carter’s our case.”
Teddy shook his head. “Sorry, Kelsey, but Ethan’s right. We have to hand it on to the team investigating the senator’s murder.”
She didn’t like it, but knew how she’d feel if another team crashed into her case. She sighed and relaxed. “So what now?”
They waited and looked at Ethan.
After a few seconds he stepped away from the window and held open the door.
“Where we going?” she asked.
“Carter sent a hit man for me. Where do you think?”
Kelsey got up. “But you said it wasn’t down to us.”
“Not going to see him about killing Wakeman,” Ethan said.
“We should tell Dryer,” Teddy said, getting up from the desk.
“You tell him,” Ethan said, letting Kelsey pass. “But didn’t he say he was going into an important meeting?”
Teddy watched the door close behind them. “Yeah, he did.”
Ethan stopped outside Lisa’s lab and looked at the closed door.
“I guess Melissa’s little indiscretion takes Lisa out of the frame as our traitor.”
Ethan grunted but didn’t answer.
“It’s obviously this Melissa woman. You can’t still suspect Lisa? She’s like a puppy, there isn’t a disloyal bone in her body.”
“Some of the best spies I’ve known would pass as Mother Teresa.”
“Met many spies, have you?”
He turned from the door and smiled at her, and she looked away. This was work, and no place for thoughts like that.
“A few,” he said. “Mostly ours.”
“So you’ll know Lisa isn’t one.”
“Maybe.” He continued towards the main doors.
“Everything Carter knew about our operation he could’ve got from his login to our case file.”
“True.”
“Then what is it?” she said, and picked up her pace to catch up.
He glanced at her as she walked up beside him. From that position and his height he could see the top of her white lacy bra. This wasn’t the time or place, but he looked anyway.
Kelsey sighed and tugged her blouse tight.
“Nice people do bad things just like bad people.” He frowned. Yeah, that was what he meant. Probably.
“Assumptions,” she said.
He stopped and looked at her.
“You know what they say about assumptions?”
“No, what?”
She looked surprised. “To assume makes an ass out of u and me.”
“People really say that?”
“Yeah, they do.”
“Bizarre. They should get out more.”
He held the door open for her without thinking.
Some women would find that sexist. Kelsey liked it, but wouldn’t admit it, even if subjected to water-boarding.
Ethan took his usual position and lay back in the SUV passenger seat. “This geek of yours,” he said without opening his eyes.
“He’s not my geek,” Kelsey said. “But I guess you’re talking about Ed.”
“Yeah, the geek with the penchant for hardcore porn.”
“Yeah, that’ll be Ed.”
“Can he find out who else is on the procurement committee?”
“He could find out what they had for breakfast,” she said.
“No, thanks, just their names.”
She pressed a button on the steering wheel and waited a moment until she heard Ed’s voice through the speaker.
Ethan didn’t listen to the conversation, it had been a long week. Carter had tried to have him killed, twice. He thought about that, and the last thing that occurred to him before he fell asleep was that it wasn’t possible to be killed twice. Unless the second time was to stop him dragging his rotting corpse about, and that would be just his luck…
He dreamt he was a zombie, dead but not lying down, and was greatly relieved to be shaken awake before the inevitable happened. He opened his eyes and saw Kelsey waiting for him to regain consciousness.
“Did I fall asleep?” he said, with a perfectly straight face.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe that was a bear snoring in the back seat.”
Ethan pulled himself up and looked into the back of the SUV. “No, no bears. Must be a mechanical problem with the transmission.”
“Mechanical problem,” she repeated. “Yes, that’ll be it.” She pointed out of his window. “We’re here.”
He looked up at the office block. “Where’s here?”
“Constitution Avenue.”
“That’s good,” Ethan said, and stretched his shoulders. “We’re here because of the great view?”
“Yeah, that and because this is where Congressman Bernstein has his office. She gave him a moment. “He’s on the procurement committee.”
“And a dissenter?”
“Yes,” she said. “The last one.”
“Hey, let’s go and talk to him,” Ethan said.
“Yes, I thought that might be a good idea.” She got out and headed for the main entrance, with Ethan following and trying to get the function back into his clunking knee. It had taken a beating over the last few days.
She waited for him and held the door open, then shook her head in mock pity as he hobbled past and ignored her.
Rachel looked up as they approached her desk. She’d been around government long enough to recognize agents when they approached her. She stowed her keyboard under her monitor and waited. The guy was limping a little and she wondered if it was from an injury sustained in the line of duty. Then stopped wondering. It was a dangerous job, being an agent, but nobody made him do it.
Kelsey took out her badge and flashed it at Rachel, who put out her hand and waited for her to relinquish it. She examined it carefully, nodded, and handed it back, then looked pointedly at Ethan.
“No badge. I’m a civilian.” Mischief twinkled in his eyes.
“Military?” Rachel said.
He smiled at her and got the same thin-lipped response. If there was a look for a spinster, then Rachel had it. Tall and thin, with an ivory complexion, graying brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and dark eyes that were deeply lined, not by laughter but by sadness. Her lips were thin and broadened with subtle pink lipstick that didn’t work. To finish the hands-off look, she wore a pale blue baggy blouse and a lilac extra-long cardigan.
She saw Ethan looking at her and squinted at him. “Are you comparing me to your wanted posters?”
He chuckled. “I was thinking, with a little sun and TLC, you’d look a million dollars.”
“Ethan!” Kelsey took a little step back, to avoid the fallout.
Rachel’s eyebrows arched, then fell, and she looked down at her cardigan. “A million dollars?”
“Sure,” Ethan said, “you’ve got great bones, and eyes a man could just fall right into and never want to come up for air.”
She brushed a stray hair from her forehead and turned down the cuff of her blouse to reveal white frills. “What can I do for you?” She ignored Kelsey, the real agent.
“We’ve come to see Congressman Bernstein,” Ethan said, “but it was worth the trip even if I don’t get to see him.”
She waved him away. “Stop that now.” She looked into his eyes and her expression softened. “The congressman is in a meeting.” She raised her hand a little off the desk. “But I’m sure he can be interrupted for you.”
“Obliged…” He leaned on her desk. “I didn’t get your name.”
“Rachel,” she said.
“Lovely name. I have a cousin Rachel, she’s a bit of a wild thing.” He leaned forward. “And I see that same wild look in your eyes, Rachel.”
Now she shooed him away with both hands. “Stop that.” She picked up the phone. “Let me get the congressman out here.” She punched a key without taking her eyes off Ethan.
“He’ll be out in five,” she said, and pointed to the sofa behind a low coffee table strewn with out-of-date magazines.
Ethan smiled at her and sat down opposite Kelsey, who was looking at him like he’d been caught stealing undies off the drying line.
She leaned forward with a pretend smile. “Eyes a man could just fall right into and never want to come up for air?” She glanced across to make sure Rachel wasn’t looking, put her finger in her mouth and gagged.
Ethan picked up a magazine that promised to tell him what every woman dreamed of in a man. “We get to see the congressman, right?”