It would be coming from the air, and it would be coming from her.
Brian Doyle stepped outside the building at Andrews Air Force Base, cellphone in his hand, returning the page he had just received. A familiar voice answered and Brian said, ‘Darren? What’s up?’
A slight cough coming from the receiver. ‘Sorry. Rough night. Look, Brian, I’ve got to see you, right away.’
Brian looked at his watch. Less than two hours to go before their next meeting, and he still had to review Adrianna’s file, and he owed a phone call to his son, the boy’s Little League season was about to start…
‘Is it important?’
‘Yes.’
A jet roared overhead, and then another. Brian looked up, saw two F-16s crawl their way up into the sky. Any other place, any other time, they would be two Air Force fighter jets, up for a routine patrol, but these weren’t routine times. Brian knew that the two Falcons were going up as part of the CAP — Combat Air Patrol — over the Washington DC area. News accounts rarely reported on their presence, sometimes noting they were dispatched whenever there was an uptick in the Homeland Security threat level. But Brian knew differently. The CAP was always up, and had always been up there since a certain September 11.
‘Come on, Darren,’ he said. ‘Can’t it wait until our meeting?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s personal, that’s why.’
Brian said, ‘Look, Darren, I need to know—’
‘Brian, how do you think the other Tiger Team members will react when they realize you’re a snitch, reporting on us to the Tiger Team Director? Think they’ll be happy? Do you?’
Brian lowered the cellphone for a moment, shook his head. Shit. Caught. He brought the cellphone back up and said, ‘All right. I’ll see you. When?’
‘Soon as you can get here.’
‘And where the hell is here?’
‘My apartment, silly,’ Darren said. ‘And don’t say you don’t know where I live. I already know that you know that, Brian, with a lot of other stuff as well. See you soon.’
And then the call was cut off.
Damn it. Brian shoved the cellphone back in his coat pocket, started walking to his car, as another brace of F-16s went up into the clear and dangerous sky.
Montgomery Zane went into the garage, just as Charlene followed him out. Her face was puffy and she had been crying, though she tried to hide it. She said, ‘No more questions, hon, except this one. Are you gonna be safe?’
He grinned at her, gave her a big hug. ‘As safe as I can be, babe. As safe as I can be. Now. You just worry about gettin’ the kids ready and your bags packed over the next couple of weeks. You go on to my aunt’s place and don’t worry a bit.’
‘The hell I won’t,’ she said. ‘The hell I won’t.’
He went to his Jeep Cherokee, black duffel bag in hand, and Charlene, arms crossed, said to him, ‘How long do we stay there for?’
‘Until I send for you.’
‘A day? A week? A month?’
Monty shook his head. ‘Less than a week. That’s all I can say. You just keep on packin’, girl, all right?’
And she nodded and he knew he should go over and give her a big hug. But he was late already, and these days he couldn’t afford to lose any more time.
Monty backed out of the open garage, waved to his wife, who waved back, trying to look cheerful, trying very hard to look happy, and failing miserably on both counts.
Darren Coover opened the door to his apartment, noted right away the severely pissed-off expression on the face of Brian Doyle. The face in question was reddened and his lips were pursed, and Darren knew he had just a few seconds before the detective started blowing up in his face. Darren had always found himself liking the scrappy New York guy, nothing like the actors on NYPD Blue or any of the other detective shows on television. Brian was the real deal.
Through the clean kitchen he took him, to the small living room, where one of his laptops was running on a coffee table, next to copies of the Washington Post and Washington Times. Darren sat on a couch and Brian sat down across from him on a chair as Darren said, ‘Okay, I used harsh language there a while ago. I apologize, Brian.’
Brian nodded, and Darren said, ‘No offense was meant. Seriously. My goal was to get you over here to talk.’
Now the anger in Brian’s face was replaced by puzzlement. Darren liked what he saw. Brian said, ‘Mind telling me what the hell that’s supposed to mean?’
He smiled at the cop and said, ‘I’ve always enjoyed having you on our Tiger Team, Brian. Just so you know. There are some — and I’m sure you know who they are — who think having a detective working with us is somehow beneath them and their abilities. So be it.’
Brian said, ‘Tell me something I didn’t know. Go on.’
Despite himself, Darren enjoyed this feeling, enjoyed being in charge, knowing secrets that either the person sitting across from him was supposedly holding or had no idea existed. It made up for his lousy childhood, the way he had kept to himself through high school and college, always knowing he was the smart one, the bright one, but also that he was the different one.
Darren said, ‘I’m used to giving out information in briefings, so please bear with me, all right? Trust me. It’ll be worth your time.’
‘Go ahead.’
Darren smiled. He was enjoying this. Most briefings there was always somebody senior in rank or somewhat senior in smarts, putting on bored airs, but this guy seemed to want to know what was going on. He wasn’t going to disappoint him.
‘Information is what we play with, day in and day out,’ Darren began, sitting back on the couch. ‘Sometimes that information is dramatic, like an Order of Battle for the Medina Armored Corps of Iraq, back when they had an armored division to play with. And sometimes that information isn’t so dramatic, like that misused and popular phrase, chatter. The trick is to identify the sources of your information, and to make a best guesstimate of what it means now, and what it might mean in the future.’
Brian said, ‘I’ve heard about a dozen different versions of that little speech since I came aboard, Darren. Thought you weren’t going to waste my time.’
A nod. ‘All right. I’ll get specific, then. Since you came aboard, I’ve known from the start that one of your roles was to play…Rat Squad, I guess is the correct term… for the Tiger Team Director. The Colonel. Your job was to follow the directives of Adrianna and work for the team, but your other job was to look into the backgrounds of your fellow Tiger Team members. Correct?’
Brian’s face was colored red again. ‘How did you know?’
‘My dear boy, before I was detached to Tiger Team Seven, I worked for the National Security Agency. The biggest and baddest information-collection agency in the world. Finding out what you were doing was quite simple. The matter of finding one memo sent through the ether that should have been encrypted. There you go.’
‘And you’re telling me this… why? A threat? Blackmail?’
Darren tried to put a shocked expression in his voice. ‘Not at all. My goal is to make sure you do your job better.’
Now the confusion was back on Brian’s face. Oh, this was so much fun. Darren said, ‘Surprised, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Then here’s another surprise. I bet I know what was said in your report. That Darren Coover is a valued member of the team, has problematic social skills, and has one flaw. And here’s that one flaw. He enjoys viewing on-line pornography of women with large breasts. Am I correct?’