“I’ll take that as a no, then.”
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t send anyone. I wish to hell I had the clout to. The fact is, you were my last hope, and, as I recall, you turned me down. What changed your mind?”
“Nothing changed my mind,” he said. “I gave you deniability, and gave myself some room to breathe. But now that someone’s got Segreti, I can’t afford to keep you out of the loop.”
“What else can you tell me about these guys?”
“Not much,” Hendricks said. “Although it’s possible they’re taking orders from a man claiming to be law enforcement.”
“This guy got a name?”
“Probably.”
“How about a description?”
“I haven’t seen him personally, but I’m told he’s older. Deeply tanned. Fondness for cowboy boots and turquoise jewelry.”
“My God. That sounds like Chet Yancey.”
“Who’s Chet Yancey?”
“The good ol’ boy I worked under when I graduated from Quantico.”
“Wait. You’re saying he was-”
“-special agent in charge of the Albuquerque field office when Segreti walked in.”
“Motherfucker,” Hendricks said. “I think we just found your mole.”
“Sounds like. He left the Bureau shortly after the safe house was compromised. I hear he’s some kind of bigwig at Bellum Industries now.”
“That explains the men in body armor. He’s got a goddamn private army at his disposal.”
“Is Yancey with Segreti?”
“Not yet, but he’s on his way. Which means Segreti’s running out of time.”
“Listen, Michael, I’m really glad you-”
But Thompson didn’t bother finishing her thought because Hendricks had already disconnected.
When she left the stairwell to head back to the conference room, O’Brien was waiting for her in the hallway. “What the hell was that about?”
“What do you mean?”
“When your phone rang, you leaped out of your seat like you’d been zapped with a cattle prod. You onto something?”
“No, I…” Thompson began, color rising in her cheeks. “It was Jess.”
“I thought Jess was backpacking through Costa Rica with her new boyfriend.”
“She was. She is. But she got sick of camping, so they shacked up someplace with a TV for the night. When she saw the news, she called.”
O’Brien was skeptical. “That warranted your leaving the room?”
“Oh, you know Jess. High drama. High volume. I figured I’d spare everybody the distraction.”
O’Brien fell silent for a moment, her face set in a frown. “Charlie, this is me you’re talking to. I know you. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Thompson took O’Brien’s hands in hers. Looked her in the eye. “There’s not.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
O’Brien seemed mollified. “Listen, I just got word from the director. Apparently, Bellum Industries is taking over the investigation. We’ve been instructed to coordinate with them from here on out.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I were. Anyway, I’m told Chet Yancey’s their top guy on the ground. We’re tracking down his number now. You mind sitting in on the call?”
“Me? Why?”
“You know the guy. I don’t. But if it’s a problem-”
“No. Of course not. Count me in.”
29.
CAMERON’S FOOTFALLS ECHOED like a snare drum down the empty hall, mirroring the pounding of her pulse. Just keep moving, she told herself, and don’t look back.
She looked back. Locked eyes with her pursuer through the hall door’s inset pane, narrow and crosshatched with wire.
When Hendricks had told her to get out of the hospital, she was scared-as anybody would have been-but she was also half convinced that he was overreacting. She’d been so careful. So clever. Sure, she’d walked past the Reston boy’s room a few times. It had been easy enough to find once she’d gained access to the hospital’s electronic chart system. She’d peeked through the open door as she walked by, but she’d never slowed, never stopped, never engaged. Instead, she’d set up in the waiting area beside the nurses’ station, which was just a widening of the hallway, really, with a few banks of chairs and a side table full of magazines, where she could keep an eye on them from a distance. When she saw Hannah head for the restroom, she followed.
She was sure no one had been shadowing her then. The only people in the waiting area were obviously camped out while their loved ones were being treated. They all had the greasy, stretched-thin look of folks who’d been awake too long and forced to consider the worst.
The restroom had been empty save for Cameron and Hannah. And once they’d spoken, Cameron relocated to the cafeteria.
So how had this guy gotten onto her?
She’d spotted him as soon as she’d finished talking to Hendricks, closed her laptop, and headed for the cafeteria exit. Not the main exit, the one that cut through the hospital’s small courtyard. She figured the courtyard was less traveled, that someone following her would be more obvious if she went that way-and she was right.
It was no wonder she’d missed him before. He looked to be of average height and weight, and he was dressed to blend in-T-shirt, jeans, and canvas jacket. But his hair was cut high and tight like former military, and it was a little warm inside the hospital for a jacket. He wore it to conceal the shoulder holster beneath it, which was briefly visible when he moved just so.
She thought she’d shaken him when she exited the courtyard. She’d sprinted around the nearest corner, her laptop cradled to her chest like a football, and didn’t slow until she’d taken two more turns. But then, as she headed toward the outpatient surgery entrance, he’d materialized as if from nowhere fifty feet ahead of her, between her and the door.
She turned and ran, slammed into a medication cart, and nearly wound up on her ass. “Watch it!” the nurse pushing it barked, although the damn thing was so heavy, it was in no danger of tipping over. Cameron spun and kept on going, her pursuer close behind.
She thought she’d lost him a second time when she ducked into the elevator as the doors were sliding shut. She got off at its first stop and darted through an automated door labeled AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY as it swung closed behind a pair of nurses wheeling an unconscious patient. But then, somehow, there he was again-scowling at her through the glass. She felt like she was wearing a goddamn tracking device.
He approached the door. Cameron’s heart rate trebled, and she took off running. She ducked around corners at random-a left, a right, another left-and then ran smack into a security guard.
He was a husky kid in his twenties with dirty-blond hair and watery eyes. The kind of guy who looked like he ended up a security guard because he’d washed out of the police academy. But he had a badge, a radio, a gun. To Cameron, his chintzy brown-on-brown uniform seemed like a gleaming suit of armor.
“Are you lost, ma’am? This is a restricted area.”
“I’m not lost-I’m being chased.”
“Chased?”
“Yeah. You have to help me. Some creep’s been following me all over the hospital. I think he has a gun. I only ducked in here because I was hoping I could lose him.”
“Sure,” he said. “No problem. How about we head back to the security office and sort this out? If there’s a strange man chasing women through the hospital, I’m sure my boss will want to hear about it.”
“Actually, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if you wouldn’t mind just escorting me to the nearest exit-” Cameron said, but the guard cut her off.
“Relax,” he said, “this won’t take long.”
He put his hand around her upper arm-squeezing a little tighter than Cameron thought appropriate-and guided her down the hall the way she’d come. “Hey, easy!” she said and tried to yank her arm loose. But he held fast-and gave the surveillance camera in the corner a subtle nod.