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“Line of succession?”

“Contrary to all reports,” Gray said, “Valac doesn’t run the show. He has people he answers to. A shadow group that we believe has strong ties to Iran and other unfriendlies. It’s all very John le Carré, but Hopcroft is now in the thick of it, and if Valac goes, he’s the one who takes over.”

“I don’t get it. If he’s that close to Valac, why not have him switch the codes and take Valac out himself?”

“And risk destroying over a decade’s worth of hard work? I don’t think so. Besides, taking Valac alive has its advantages.”

“Okay. So is Hopcroft the one who gave you the heads-up on the deal with Favreau?”

“No,” Gray said. “That happened exactly as I told you. We haven’t heard from Hopcroft for several weeks now, and he’s ignored all the usual methods of communication. We can only assume that his rise in the ranks and Valac’s cautious nature have subjected him to more scrutiny than usual, and he doesn’t want to risk exposure. He knows nothing of this operation or even that we’re aware of the deal.”

McElroy thought about this and the truth suddenly fell into place. “That’s the real reason you wanted Alex on the team. She’s your message to Hopcroft.”

“Very good, Jason. There’s hope for you yet.”

“Which means you aren’t the only ones who’ve been keeping tabs on her. He has, too. He cares about her.”

“Very much so, as it turns out.”

“But why?”

“I’m not sure, but he was around the Poe family quite a bit during her formative years, and I assume he formed an attachment. Our agents aren’t always immune to sentiment, I’m afraid.”

“But in this case, it works to your advantage,” McElroy said. “He must know that Stonewell recruited Alex, and you’re hoping that the moment he sees her, he’ll realize what the play is.”

“We’re counting on it.”

“And with him in position to take over for Valac, this isn’t just a double. It’s a home run.”

Gray smiled again. “Assuming everything goes as planned. Which, of course, depends on your team. How close are they to finding those codes?”

“They’re working Favreau the best they can, but they haven’t had any luck yet. And with Alex in the wind—”

“Trust me, she’ll do the right thing.”

“You don’t know her as well as you think you do. It’s one thing to observe and another thing altogether to work with her. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t feel entirely safe around her.”

Gray shrugged. “That’s because she despises you. But that’s another discussion altogether. The clock is ticking. It’s only a matter of time before Valac and Favreau meet, and those codes need to be in our possession before that happens. Even with Hopcroft in place, there’s no telling what Valac will do once he has them, and we’d rather not risk that happening.”

“Like I said, if the codes are that important to you, don’t be so greedy. You’ve got a man in place. Take Favreau now, wait for Hopcroft to communicate with you, and save Valac for another time.”

“And deprive you of your payday? We wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh,” McElroy said. “Tell me one more thing.”

“Which is?”

“You keep saying ‘we,’ but how many people really know about this? Does it go all the way to the top?”

Gray laughed. “Come on, Jason. You know better than to ask that.”

Then he picked up his paper sack and rooted around inside until he found his plastic fork and can of pineapple chunks.

CHAPTER 24

St. Cajetan, Bahamas

It’s quite simple, Alex. Your father sent me.

The phrase echoed through her head as they drove, Gérard steadfastly refusing to expand on the comment until they reached their destination.

It’s quite simple, Alex.

But there wasn’t anything simple about it at all, was there? The four words that followed had frozen her where she sat and she knew she didn’t dare push him, didn’t dare threaten him, didn’t dare do anything that might make him decide to drop it right there and not explain.

Your father sent me.

The last time she had heard from her father had been shortly after the op in Crimea. She had hoped to meet with him at a London pub, but he had left her a note instead, along with a pair of tickets to a Baltimore Orioles game. She and her brother Danny had gone to the stadium, but she’d found it hard to concentrate on the game, her eyes constantly drifting toward the stands, wondering if her father was out there somewhere.

It didn’t help when Danny suddenly looked up and said, “Dad?”

“What about him?”

“Dad here?”

His gaze was fixed on the stands across the field, but even if their father was out there, there was no way Danny could see him from that distance. Still, her heart began to pound as she raised her binoculars and studied the crowd.

But she saw nothing. No sign of the colonel. Or Raven. Or whatever you wanted to call him. No sign of the man who had tucked them in bed at night in that long ago fairyland that had once been their lives.

“Dad like baseball,” Danny said.

She lowered the binoculars. “Yes, he does. He likes it very much.”

“Dad not here.”

“No, but he wants us to be. He wants us to know he still loves us.”

Danny got quiet after that, withdrawing into himself as he often did. Alex rubbed his back and watched the game and wished, not for the first time in her life, that she could wipe away his pain.

The note accompanying the baseball tickets had been her father’s last communication.

One for you, and one for the little lieutenant. Wish I could go with you.

Enjoy the game.

But it wasn’t enough. Both she and Danny needed more. Much more.

And maybe Thomas Gérard was about to fulfill that need.

It’s quite simple, Alex.

Your father sent me.

They rode to the leeward side of the island, far away from the fabricated fantasy of the Hotel St. Cajetan and the city surrounding it, and found a table at an unassuming outdoor cafe with a view of the ocean. Gérard ordered them coffee and when the waiter was gone, he said, “You must have a million different questions for me right now.”

“I’m trying to be patient.”

“Then I’ll warn you that I don’t have the answers to them all. Very few, in fact.” He smiled apologetically. “I’m sure you’ve deduced by now that I’m not a real estate broker.”

“And I’ll bet your name isn’t Thomas Gérard, either.”

“That isn’t important. All that matters is that I’m a friend of your father and—”

“He has friends?”

“More than you might think. Quite a network of them after all these years. People who have never believed a man like him would betray his own government.”

Alex studied him. “And how do you know him?”

“I was once VSSE, Belgian State Security. Now I work as a facilitator for ex-patriots who’ve run afoul of their governments. I arrange false identities and secure the proper travel credentials. All off the books, of course.”

“And you’ve been helping him.”

“For many years now. He usually contacts me when he needs something done that he can’t do himself. Which is why I’m here.”

“Why do you get to have all the fun? Why hasn’t he contacted me?”

“For your own protection. And Danny’s.”

“You’ll have to explain that.”

The waiter came with the coffee and set their cups in front of them. When he was gone, Gérard said, “Your father has made a number of enemies as well. People who might decide that you or Danny could provide them with leverage against him. But if those enemies believe you aren’t important to him, they’re likely to leave you alone.”