“Because they killed them,” exclaimed Tucker.
“There is something else going on here,” said Blue Man.
“Care to elaborate?”
“DiCarlo?”
“Old news.”
“I disagree. Firmly.”
Tucker sat up in his chair. There was a dangerous look in his eyes. “Based on what?”
“Based on reality, sir.”
“You’re very close to insubordination, Roger.”
“That of course is not my intent. But we still don’t know about DiCarlo. Why DHS took her. Why she was attacked. We do know that Robie saved her life. That’s very telling.”
“And he believed that Jessica Reel was also there. Also saving DiCarlo’s life.”
“Correct.”
“But we only have his word for that.”
“The shell casings were there, sir. You can’t get around that.”
Tucker put his fingers together and stared at the ceiling. “Reel murdered two of my people. Robie has gone underground. For all we know he’s teamed up with the woman somehow. That means he’s joined a killer.”
“They’re both killers, sir. They’ve been deployed in the field for years eliminating people.”
“Killing our enemies, Roger.”
“Maybe they’re still killing our enemies.”
“You will never get me to believe that Jim Gelder had been turned. It would have been impossible. He wasn’t even in the field, for Godsakes. No one could have approached him.”
“I don’t think anything is impossible. We’ve certainly seen that. Men in high office who ruined careers and jeopardized legacies because of an affair.”
“I’m very happily married, thank you very much.”
“I’m sure, sir.”
“And we’re not talking about a romp in the bed here. How could Jacobs and Gelder have been turned? Do you have an ounce of proof?”
Blue Man shrugged. “The only proof I have is that I know Will Robie. And I would trust him with my life. I have trusted him with my life. He has sacrificed everything for his country.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?” Tucker’s voice became strident. “If they could turn the number two man in our agency?”
“I clearly understand the ramifications, sir. And any such conspiracy may have spread farther than here. In fact, it may have its origins elsewhere.”
“Robie conveyed to me some of what DiCarlo told him.”
“I would be glad to hear it.”
“Missing personnel. Missing equipment. And money. Missions that never should have been. I have people looking into it. But it’s troubling, Roger. Very troubling.”
“It would be nice to hear it from DiCarlo’s lips,” said Blue Man.
Tucker fiddled with a pen on his desk and made no response.
“Sir?” said Blue Man. “Did you hear what I said?”
“It would be nice to hear it from DiCarlo’s lips,” Tucker said. “The problem is she took a turn for the worse, is currently in an induced coma, and is not expected to live.” He glanced up. “I pushed hard at DHS and finally got them to listen to me. We’re now providing her protection along with the FBI. Had to go all the way to the APNSA.”
“Gus Whitcomb?”
Tucker nodded. “Whitcomb sided with me. Which meant the president sided with me. Which means I saw Janet.” He paused. “It really doesn’t look good for her, Roger.”
Blue Man looked down. “I’m very sorry to hear that. She’s been a great asset to the agency.”
“We seem to be running out of those.”
“A few bad apples, nothing more.”
“I do care about my people, you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tucker doodled on a piece of paper. “Where do you think Robie is?”
“He’s certainly gone off the grid.” Blue Man paused, seeming to choose his next words with great care. “In fact, I was the one who encouraged him to do so.”
Tucker looked stunned. “You advised him to go off the grid?”
“I also advised him to find Jessica Reel.”
“His initial task was to do that,” snapped Tucker.
“I didn’t mean to find and kill her. I meant to find her and thank her for saving his life. And then to team up.”
Tucker’s face turned red and a vein near his temple swelled. “Team up to do what exactly?” he barked.
“To do what needs to be done. There is something going on, sir. I realized it even before Jacobs and Gelder were killed. We’ve had infiltrations at the agency. Robie knew this too. Trusted people who it turned out were working against us.”
“We believed that to be isolated. And resolved, Roger,” Tucker said in a calmer tone.
“Maybe we believed wrong.”
“So you’re saying it’s something more than a few bad apples, then?”
“Conspiracies are supposed to be relegated to popular fiction. However, it’s surprising and a little distressing how often they show up in real life.”
Tucker suddenly looked tired. “We are ill-equipped to handle broad-based conspiracies, Roger. Particularly from inside our own tent.”
“Which is why perhaps Robie and Reel have a shot at this. By working from the outside in.”
“If they do that, we have no way of deploying assets on their behalf. They’re on their own.”
“With all due respect, sir, that’s exactly how they’ve been operating their whole careers here. On their own with no cover, no backup.”
“So maybe they’re ideally suited to crack this thing,” Tucker said slowly.
“I wouldn’t bet against them,” said Blue Man with confidence.
“So you really think Gelder and Jacobs were traitors to their country?”
“I can’t say they’re not.”
“And there are others?”
Blue Man shrugged. “Things are still happening and Gelder and Jacobs are dead. They could have had nothing to do with the attack on DiCarlo.”
“What about the attack on Roy West in Arkansas? What was that about?”
“I don’t know, sir. But from the carnage I wouldn’t discount the possibility that both Reel and Robie were there.”
“What could possibly be the connection? I’ve looked at West’s record. He was a nothing. Hardly left a mark here. And then he was canned for what amounted to being stupid and lax with security measures. Do you think Reel and Robie know of some connection?”
“If they don’t I think they can find out.”
Tucker sat back, looking doubtful. “I hope you’re right.”
“Me too,” said Blue Man under his breath. “Me too.”
CHAPTER
65
“HELLO, CONGRESSMAN,” said the woman as she walked past, her small dog straining on a leash in front of her. “I saw you on TV the other night.”
Howard Decker stood on a path at the park near his home. He was dressed casually in jeans and a button-down shirt, loafers and no socks. He had donned a light windbreaker because the evening skies promised rain. He held a leash with his big Labrador Bruin tethered to the other end.
He nodded and smiled at the pretty woman as she walked past. “Thanks. Have a good evening,” he said. He liked being recognized. It was a nice taste of celebrity that fed his ego.
He watched her go, appreciating her tall, slender figure, tight skirt, and the way her blonde hair swirled around her shoulders. He was very comfortable with his wife, but he had never been able to cure himself of his roving eye. And his exalted position in Washington made him a plum target for a variety of sophisticated, accomplished, and attractive women.
He sighed contentedly. Not a bad life. He was wealthy from his past business successes, in relatively good health, with many years in politics ahead of him. His wife was suitably supportive but not eager to grab the limelight from him. She didn’t often travel with him, which allowed him the latitude for the occasional dalliance in his hotel room with a young staffer.