“No. We need more information to start down that path,” said Berg. “Right now, we need to figure out who we can and cannot trust.”
“I don’t trust anyone outside of this room,” said Munoz. “Except for Sanderson.”
“We obviously can’t turn to the CIA,” said Jackson. “I’d cross Brown River off the list too.”
“FBI?” said David Bauer. “I have a few contacts there.”
Berg had almost forgotten about his conversation with Ryan Sharpe.
“Sorry. I forgot something. It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” said Berg. “I called Ryan Sharpe right after I brought the Reznikov intelligence to Audra’s attention, and asked him to facilitate adding Sokolov to as many international terrorist watch lists as he could wrangle. I didn’t explain why I was interested in Sokolov, and I never mentioned Reznikov. I asked for this as a favor. Sharpe is a guy I trust.”
“But we can’t cross him off the list of suspected leaks,” said Bauer.
“Then it looks like we’re back to square one, unless your electronic wizards can conjure up some kind of answer by mixing all of the captured cell phones in a cauldron or something,” said Jackson.
“I wish it worked like that. Be a lot easier than drinking ten cups of coffee between now until dawn,” said Graves. “We’re working on something, but it might take some time.”
“Then we’ll have to expedite the process,” said Jessica.
Everyone turned toward her voice. Jessica stood in the wide, high-arched opening that connected the main hallway with the great room — holding a knife to a man’s throat. The man in her grip had a black bag over his head.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” said Graves.
“My guess is that this fucker can move things along nicely,” she explained.
Berg glanced at Daniel. “Looks like your wife made a speedy recovery.”
Daniel stood up. “We’ve been working on something.”
“Jesus,” stated Jackson, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now we’re kidnapping people? Did you know about this, Karl?”
“I honestly had no idea,” said Berg, looking to Audra. “Seriously.”
Bauer sighed. “This is officially out of control.”
Jessica wrangled the man into the room.
“The whole thing has been out of control since it started,” said Daniel. “This might be the only way to get it back under control.”
“Where did he come from?” asked Bauer.
“He was waiting for you in the parking lot behind the Freaky Bird,” said Jessica. “I kind of couldn’t help myself.”
“Nice of you to finally unveil your little secret,” Jackson smirked.
“To be honest, you’ve been the only thing holding it up,” said Munoz.
“Me? Seriously?” said Jackson. “I’m the only motherfucker in this room that can get in his car and go back to a normal life. I’m here for one reason and one reason only. To make sure my best friend doesn’t end up back where you guys found him this afternoon.”
“Sorry if we couldn’t just take your word for it,” said Daniel.
“Who’s we?”
“Everyone except Karl, Audra, and her husband,” Munoz answered. “The possible connection established to Brown River earlier today made us a little nervous.”
“And how exactly does this change things?” asked Bauer. “No offense, Darryl.”
“None fucking taken, I guess,” said Jackson.
Graves explained, “We did some deep digging—”
“That means hacking,” Gupta interrupted.
“Thank you for the unnecessary clarification,” said Graves. “We hacked into Brown River’s payroll database and found Samuel Harper. He makes a lot of money for a contractor.”
“How much?” asked Jackson.
“One hundred and fifty thousand. Salaried.”
“Salaried? Security contractors aren’t salaried.”
“Definitely salaried. We also found a onetime payment of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars paid two months ago.”
“Sounds like a onetime sign-up bonus, though we stopped those three years ago,” said Jackson.
“Apparently not,” said Daniel.
“Let’s cut to the point here,” said Jackson. “How does this supposedly clear me for your circle of trust?”
“You never left the circle,” said Berg. “We just needed to find someone bigger than Harper involved at Brown River to fully convince Sanderson’s people.”
“This guy?” asked Jackson, pointing at the hooded man.
“Yes. We found our new guest on the payroll too,” said Graves. “But his pay structure was a little higher.”
“How much higher?” said Jackson.
“To the tune of three hundred thousand higher.”
Jackson whistled. “Not many people at Brown River making that kind of money. Not anymore.”
“Then maybe you’ll recognize him,” said Munoz, nodding toward Jessica.
She pulled the hood off, tossing it to the floor, pushing the man forward.
“Jack Wellins?” said Jackson. “He ran Brown River’s Direct Action Group, a kind of off-the-books special missions roster. Left close to two years ago for another security firm. Ajax Global.”
Berg noted the timing. Another link supporting a wild theory he was starting to believe more and more by the minute.
“Then Brown River has made a continuous and costly payroll error,” said Graves. “He’s received a monthly paycheck from them for the past seven years, uninterrupted, plus a three-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus six months ago.”
“Damn, Jack! You hit the jackpot! Care to explain this peculiar discrepancy?” said Jackson. “Or maybe why you were waiting around a coffee shop to murder a senior CIA director.”
“Good to see you again, Darryl,” said Wellins.
“Wish I could say the same. Let’s get a closer look.”
Jessica manhandled him around one of the couches until he stood on the edge of the group, in easy view of everyone. He came across more defiant than intimidated.
“You look a little smug for your predicament,” Berg noted.
“I know exactly what’s going to happen here,” said Wellins. “Why dwell on it?”
“Then why not sit down in a comfortable chair,” Berg offered, motioning to an empty seat. “And enjoy a rare Scotch from the den while filling in the blanks for us. Beats the alternative.”
Wellins swallowed hard, looking around the room; his defiant facade tempered. “You know that’s not gonna happen. Hard to scare a dead man.”
Daniel Petrovich started laughing, followed by Sayar. When Munoz and Melendez joined in, Berg looked around to see what was so funny. Most of them were focused on Wellins, shaking their heads.
“What’s so funny?” said Wellins.
“I can’t speak for anyone else in the room, but I’m not here to scare you,” said Daniel. “I’m here to make you talk, by any means necessary. We’ll skip the beatings and move right into the cutting, of course. Seems like an appropriate place to start given what your team did to Mr. Berg. Then we’ll move on to far more creative methods. If all that fails, a few of us will make the drive down to your house in Midlothian and set up an interactive teleconference with your wife and kids. Interactive in a ‘you tell me what I want to know, and I don’t poke a kid’s eye’ out kind of way.”
Wellins struggled, held tightly in check by Jessica’s forearm and the knife pressed against his neck.
“You will not touch my family,” snarled Wellins. “They’re off-limits.”
“I don’t have any limits,” said Daniel.
“You can’t let them do that,” said Wellins, looking to Bauer. “We follow unwritten rulebooks governing these things. You know that.”