“Roger that.”

“How’s your FBI friend?”

It was the second time Hort had referred to her as his “friend.” He wondered whether Hort suspected something was up. He would have seen her photo from her Bureau file.

“She’s okay. A little shaken up by what happened yesterday, but okay.” He looked at Paula’s face, but couldn’t learn anything from her expression.

“All right, good. Be ready in thirty minutes.” He clicked off.

Ben put the phone down. Paula said, “What was that?”

Ben wasn’t sure how to answer. He couldn’t really get rid of Paula before the next call. And the thought of needing to do so, when they were lying next to each other naked, was exceptionally strange.

“It was my boss. He says Larison is supposed to call in again in thirty minutes. He wants me to listen in.”

“Why?”

“So I’ll know what’s going on.”

“Which is…?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But it seems like the snatch teams were Blackwater, and the two guys who showed up after were CIA Ground Branch.”

She frowned. “Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure, but my boss’s information is usually pretty good. Looks like the CIA doesn’t want you to recover those tapes. And doesn’t want anyone else to, either.”

She didn’t say anything. He thought she looked a little ill.

“I know,” he said. “It’s a dark day for interagency cooperation. Outside of you and me, I mean.”

He thought the crack would get her to smile, but she didn’t. Which was really too bad, because, after all, they had a half hour to kill.

“You okay?”

She shook her head. “I just… I just don’t know what the hell’s going on.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some crazy shit, but this one is up there, no doubt.”

“Then why are you so cheerful?”

He shrugged. “I got laid last night. That always puts me in a good mood.”

That made her smile. “Yeah? Was she good?”

He felt his lips. They were swollen and tender. “Well, she’s got a good straight right, I can tell you that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is that all?”

He smiled. “No, there’s more. And if she joins me in the shower, I’ll tell her all about it.”

33. Not a Place You Want to Be

Thirty minutes in the shower wasn’t quite what Ben would have allotted if it had been up to him, but they managed to use the time well. Afterward, Paula got into the sundress and Ben pulled on the shirt he’d bought. He put the one he’d been wearing the day before in the laundry bag with Paula’s clothes. They’d dump it somewhere far from the hotel.

“Just gotta listen in on this call,” he said. “And then we’ll go.”

“Put it on speakerphone.”

Shit, he should have seen that coming. “I don’t think-”

“Don’t tell me you’re keeping secrets from me. Not after what happened yesterday. Not after what’s happened since then.”

He briefly considered telling her that was all separate, that shared danger, even a shared pillow, didn’t mean he could share operational details, too. And decided that, if he did, she was going to start punching him again. And besides, it wasn’t really a question of operational details. It was just a bunch of managers arguing about what to do. And hell, she knew a lot already.

He nodded. “All right. Speakerphone.”

She smiled. “Now, this is Larison? Calling whom?”

“As far as I know, just my boss, the national security adviser, and a guy from the CIA.”

“Who’s your boss?”

Shit. Another one he should have seen coming. He was tired. Or he was distracted by what had happened with her. Either way, things were getting past him.

“Let’s just listen in, okay?” he said.

“There’s nobody from Justice on this call?”

“I guess not.”

“Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘Justice is blind,’ doesn’t it?”

Ben shrugged. “I think these guys are more concerned about the national security implications of the situation than they are about the justice ones.”

They sat on the unused bed and waited. The phone buzzed just a minute later. Ben raised a finger to his lips, answered the call, and immediately pressed the mute button.

“I’m going to explain the deal to you,” said a low and raspy voice, the tone calm and confident. Given the current circumstances, Ben figured it was Larison, about to issue instructions.

“We’re listening.” Ben didn’t recognize this one, either, but assumed it was the national security adviser, running the meeting.

“It’s actually very simple,” Larison said. “Nothing’s changed. If the diamonds haven’t been delivered to me in twenty-four hours in accordance with my instructions, the tapes will be released.”

“I understand,” the national security adviser said. “I’m going to turn this meeting over now to our new point man on the operation. I think you know him. Colonel?”

“How are you doing, son?” Hort said. Paula mouthed, Your boss? And Ben, feeling he had no choice, figuring she pretty much knew who he was at this point anyway, nodded.

There was a pause. Larison said, “Hort?”

“It’s me.”

“I had a feeling they’d bring you in.”

“Well, I wish they’d brought me in earlier. This thing would have been handled better.”

“All I want to hear is that you have the diamonds. If you do, we’ll keep talking. If you don’t, you’re wasting my time.”

“We have them.”

“Where are they?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where are you holding them? What city?”

“They’re here in Washington.”

“Good. I’ll call again in twenty-four hours and tell you how you’ll deliver them. You’ll use a single courier. I think you understand what will happen if you deviate from my instructions.”

“You made your point in Costa Rica, son. Loud and clear.”

“Twenty-four hours. You’ll want to have a jet ready.”

There was a click, then a dial tone, then silence.

The national security adviser said, “What do you think?”

“I think this is another opportunity,” a third voice said. “We can pick him up at the point of exchange.” It must have been Clements.

“I’m sorry,” Hort said, “can you tell me how that’s different from your previous plan? The one that cost fourteen lives and put Larison on a hair trigger. Literally, most likely, if we’re talking about his dead-man switch.”

“He got lucky.”

“You got lucky. Lucky he didn’t just uncork and release those tapes. In case you haven’t noticed, the man is not exactly stable.”

“We don’t even know if there is a dead-man switch. He could be bluffing.”

“He’s not bluffing. I know him. And right now, I guarantee you he’s got the switch set to dangerously short intervals. When he picks up the diamonds, he’ll probably have it down to about fifteen minutes. Your plan is to take him, secure him, revive him, elicit accurate intel, and disarm the switch in under fifteen minutes?”

“Better that way than just handing over the diamonds and hoping for the best.”

“‘That way’ is a fantasy, and the only thing a fantasy is good for is jerking off.”

Paula covered her mouth to suppress a giggle and Ben gave her a yeah, that’s my boss shrug. It was weird, and a little intoxicating, to be listening in on such a high-level conversation. And to have made Paula party to it.

“Where are you going to get the men, anyway?” Hort said. “You going to go back to Blackwater? And what are you going to do if the information Larison gives you doesn’t disarm the trigger, but instead sets it off? How are you going to know, until you see the footage from those tapes on the Al Jazeera nightly news and every American network?”

There was silence for a moment. Clements said, “What you’re proposing means we’ll have those tapes hanging over the head of the U.S. government forever. And eventually, they’re going to come out.”

“Maybe. But everything you’ve tried is guaranteed to make them come out. Besides, Larison is going to have something hanging over his head, too. Nico. And his family. Like I said before, we have nuclear parity now. Mutual assured destruction. Which wasn’t pleasant for anyone back in the day, true, but it managed to keep the peace.”