My, he was chatty today, Syd thought, surprised. “I have no idea,” she said. She didn’t. In fact she’d completely forgotten about them when the FBI made it clear her services were no longer required. And now, with Randall dead, that connection had been broken. “Why do you want to know?”
Maltz shrugged. It was hard to tell with his perpetual ruddiness, but she could swear he was blushing. “They seemed like nice girls. Nice family,” he said
“I guess,” Syd said dubiously, thinking of Audrey. Nice wasn’t the first word that came to mind, but then she hadn’t spent much time with them. Maybe they were nice people to flee through the countryside with. Anything was possible, she supposed.
“You got everything?”
“Most of it,” Maltz replied. “Kane’s got a good base of supplies.”
“Good,” Syd said, relaxing back in her seat. As she watched the passing landscape she ran through possible strategies and scenarios in her mind. The desert sun outside the window burned hot, reminiscent of the countless other sand-blown cities she’d driven through over the years. This one was notably less exotic, however: Phoenix, Arizona.
She was surprised Phoenix hadn’t occurred to the others. It hit her the minute Burke’s name was mentioned. Of course he’d target his hometown-it was the natural choice. In the trailer she’d waited for it to dawn on the Feds. Obviously they didn’t have as much experience with warlords and ambitious generals, since they kept droning on about warehouses and driving radiuses. She’d almost told them, but after the brush-off they’d given her, decided against it. She knew how to stop one of the attacks. And perversely, she decided to help. Hard to say whether this was a knee jerk reaction to being told she was useless, or something else. Maybe it was because as an operative, she’d frequently been forced to stand by and do nothing while all sorts of terrible things happened, since there were “bigger issues at stake.” She’d always hated that expression, it usually meant a slew of innocents were about to draw their last breath and no one really gave a shit.
So here she was, then. Syd Clement, former spook, on a mission to save Phoenix from becoming even more of a barren hellscape than it already was.
“I’ll go in first,” she said, turning to Maltz. “Check each one out. If I need you, I’ll give the signal to move in.”
“You sure? We could split up, it would go faster.”
“If you got what I asked for, this shouldn’t take long at all,” she said, glancing at her watch. Nearly 3:30 p.m. Syd closed her eyes and said, “Wake me when we’re close.”
Thirty-Three
“Bingo,” Rodriguez said.
“You got something?” Jake crossed the room and leaned over his shoulder. There was an image on his computer screen.
“That’s Burke, you moron,” George said.
“No shit, Sherlock. But check out who’s behind him,” Rodriguez retorted.
It was a society picture from a formal event. Burke had his arm around someone identified as a prominent lobbyist, who apparently was no stranger to Botox. And in the background, on the edge of the frame, was a hulking beast of a man. It was hard to tell from the angle, but…Jake compared it with Dante’s mug shot. It was him all right. Square head like a pit bull, shaven bald, looking wildly uncomfortable in a suit a size too small. “When was this taken?” he asked.
“A year ago, at a GOP fund-raiser.”
“Any idea what Dante was doing there?”
“I say we call this lobbyist and ask.”
“We could fax this over to his office, let his secretary have a gander…”
“For all we know Dante is his secretary. And the higher-ups don’t want Burke to get a whiff of this yet.” Jake looked at them. “Do we run this by Leonard?”
“Fuck Leonard,” Rodriguez said forcefully. “Great thing about lobbyists is that they love getting calls, day and night.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you, Rodriguez.” Jake cracked a smile. “Sorry, George, I have a new favorite agent.”
“I’m all torn up about it.” George rolled his eyes. “Please, promise me you’ll tread carefully. I’m not cut out for the private sector.”
It took all of ten minutes to track down the office number for the lobbyist in the photo, and another five to convince a beleaguered staffer that they needed to speak with him immediately. After outlining what the administration thought of lobbyists who didn’t help the FBI in matters of national security, and how that reflected on pork barrel spending for their clients, a cell phone number was produced.
“Who wants to make the call?” Rodriguez asked, holding up the receiver.
“Dibs.” George put it on speakerphone. The lobbyist answered on the third ring. From the sound of things, there was a full-scale party going on in the background.
“Hello, Mr. Jeffers, this is Special Agent George Fong calling from the FBI. Your name came up in the course of an investigation, and I was wondering if you could help us out.”
“What? My name?” Jeffers voice veered quickly from alarm to a practiced honeyed tone. “I’m sure there must be some mistake. Let me give you the number for my attorney-”
“The investigation actually involves a third party, sir. All we need is for you to identify a man in a photo.”
A long pause. “Well, I suppose that would be-”
“We’d really appreciate the help, Mr. Jeffers. I’m sending it to your phone right now.”
Rodriguez sent the photo, and they waited. Jeffers maintained a running monologue, most of which revolved around damn cell phones and how tricky they were to operate. Rodriguez rolled his eyes, and Jake made a motion for him not to laugh. “Ah, this…this is Jack Burke,” Jeffers finally said. “Just became a senator, you know, after that tragedy with-”
“Right, we know. I’d actually like you to identify the man standing behind Mr. Burke on his left.”
“Oh, all right.” Jeffers sounded inordinately relieved that the investigation didn’t involve a new senator whom he probably had high hopes for. “That guy. I can’t remember his name, he’s just Jack’s bodyguard,” he said dismissively.
“I didn’t realize Mr. Burke needed a bodyguard,” George said carefully.
“Oh, well, I’m sure he doesn’t. My wife and I assumed it was one of Jack’s eccentricities, he’s quite a character. He took him to a few events. You’re right, though. As I always say, you only get mugged at those parties by people like me.” He laughed heartily.
“Thanks for your time, Mr. Jeffers. And if you’d please keep this conversation private for the moment-”
“Oh, absolutely, absolutely.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I have to say, I’m not surprised to hear the bodyguard’s in trouble. He seemed…rough around the edges, if you know what I mean. I was surprised Jack hired him, he usually has excellent taste in people.”
“Clearly,” George said, before hanging up.
“Nicely done.” Jake clapped George on the shoulder.
“Bodyguard, huh?” Rodriguez said. “Wonder if that means he was on the official payroll.”
“If he was, it’s under a different name,” George said. “I went through all the records, there’s no Dante listed anywhere, not even under the shell companies.”
“So is it enough to take to Leonard?” Rodriguez asked. “It’s a link, but if they’re not willing to smear Burke, maybe they won’t use this, either.”
“Something tells me they won’t have any reservations about throwing someone like Dante under the bus,” Jake scoffed.
“Even if it tips off Burke?”
“Screw Burke. At this point, he should know we’re breathing down his neck. I say we make sure they plaster Dante Parrish’s face across the networks,” Jake said forcefully. The two agents exchanged a glance. “What?” he demanded.
“It’s just…at this point, we should let the Bureau decide how they want to manage things,” Rodriguez said, looking uncomfortable.