“DO THE DAUGHTERS KNOW?” asked Jamison.
She was looking across at Decker in their office at the WFO.
He nodded. “They were stunned, to put it mildly. It’s like they’ve been hit with one tsunami after another. They won’t be able to see her for a while, but Bogart has informed them of everything. They’re getting her a lawyer. She’s going to need a really good one.”
“She helped us. She told us a lot.”
Decker looked over at her. “She’s in her sixties. And in addition to the espionage, she conspired to kill Berkshire. So even with favorable treatment it’s doubtful she’s coming out of prison alive.”
“I know. But talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“She chose to become a spy.”
“Oh, come on, it was the Soviet Union. Do you really think she had a choice? They would have shot her or sent her to Siberia if she’d refused.”
“It doesn’t matter, Alex. The law doesn’t make exceptions for that. They searched the house and found multiple surveillance devices. That’s how they knew what was going on. They were all wireless and could be picked up by someone sitting in a car a quarter mile away.”
She slumped back in her chair and fiddled with a pen taken from a holder on her desk. “What did you mean when you were asking her why Dabney had chosen the FBI building to shoot Berkshire?”
“Because I wanted to know if she had the answer.”
“Well, I know that. But why do you think that’s important?”
“Because it’s inexplicable.”
“Right. And you don’t like inexplicable?”
“Like Anne Berkshire, everything we know about Walter Dabney shows that he’s a person who does nothing without a good reason. He was smart, accomplished, methodical, focused. It’s not easy to build the sort of business he did. You remember he had put together a video and other evidence to try to nail these bastards? He wanted to beat them at their own game. He’d worked in the intelligence field his entire adult life. He knew how much damage these people could do with what he had given them. He wanted to try to make it right before he died. And I don’t think that plan simply included blowing Berkshire’s head off.”
“But Mrs. Dabney answered you. He said he wanted to send a message to those people.”
“I know that is what she said he told her.”
“Are you saying you don’t believe her? What reason would she have to lie to us now?”
“I don’t know. And we’re almost out of time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Brown texted me. The chatter has gone silent. The prep is done. They’re ready to execute the plan.”
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit,” he repeated.
* * *
Decker set the beer down and wiped his mouth.
Mars mirrored this move next to him at the bar they were in. As he put his beer down, he winced.
“How’s the arm?” asked Decker.
“Hurts a lot less than when you hit me on that screen pass back in college.”
“You’re just trying to cheer me up. That was the only time I tackled you all game.”
“Still a good hit.”
“Yeah. You hit me so hard about fifteen times that I stayed in bed for three days because I couldn’t feel any part of my body.”
Decker refocused on his beer, but his attention was obviously far away.
“Things not going so good?” asked Mars.
“I wish I could tell you, but you’re not cleared for it. Hell, I’m probably not cleared for it either.”
“Nothing you can tell me?”
“You could say we only half finished the job. And the most important half is still out there.”
“Alex was a little more forthcoming. She said there was big shit maybe going down soon, only you guys didn’t know what.”
“That sums it up pretty well, actually.”
Mars took another sip of beer. “Anything I can do?”
“You got a miracle in your pocket?”
“Not last time I looked.”
“Then, no, I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That bad. You seen Harper since the shootout at her house?”
“No.”
“How come?”
“I think she wants to cool things, at least for now.”
Decker looked surprised. “Why? I thought she liked you.”
Mars sighed. “She does. Maybe too much.”
“I’m not following.”
“I think she’s afraid I’ll get hurt if I keep hanging around her.”
“Well, the same could be said for me.”
“Hell, I need to hang out with somebody, Decker.”
“I won’t stop you.”
Mars looked at him quizzically. “How come?”
“Because I don’t like you as much as Brown does. For obvious reasons.”
Mars grinned and lightly punched him on the arm. “Asshole!”
Decker’s phone buzzed. It was Jamison. Well, it was her number, but it wasn’t Jamison.
“Mr. Decker?”
“Who is this?” said Decker sharply.
The voice said, “Irrelevant to the matter at hand. What is relevant is that Ms. Jamison is a guest of ours.”
Decker stood. “Where’s Alex? What do you want?”
“Excellent question. The answer to that would be you.”
“I want to talk to Alex. Now!”
Mars had put his beer down and was standing next to Decker looking concerned.
A moment later Jamison came on the phone. Her voice was shaky.
“It’s me, Amos.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know. I was getting out of my car when—”
There was a scuffle and the man’s voice came on again.
“She’s alive, for now. You’re a very intelligent man, so you know what I’m going to ask you next.”
“Where?”
“Not quite that easy, since we don’t want your mates at the FBI to join the party.”
“How, then?”
“We understand that you have a good memory.”
“What of it?”
“I’m going to talk fast. Don’t forget a thing. Your friend won’t appreciate it.”
The man spoke for about a minute.
Decker clicked off and looked at Mars. “I gotta go.”
“So do I.”
“See you later.”
“No, I mean I’m going with you.”
“That’s not going to happen, Melvin.”
“Then your ass ain’t leaving this bar, Decker.”
“Melvin, I—”
“I heard what you said on the phone. Alex is in trouble. So it’s either we both go or neither one of us is going.”
“Do you remember the last time we went somewhere to meet somebody?”
“Considering we almost got blown to shit, yeah, I remember.”
“Well, these people have no incentive to let any of us live.”
“Never doubted it.”
“And you’re still in?”
“Like you got to ask. Lead the way, dude.”