“How?” Alex asked. “We took your bank account, and the treasure Eisenbein had been using. There’s nothing left.”
He laughed, and leaned towards her. “You think that was all the money? Just that one account?” His smile turned evil, and he softened his voice. “There are hundreds of accounts. Filled with billions of dollars. That wasn’t even the largest.”
“There are more Nazi accounts? From the forties?” Alex moved forward in her chair. “Where?”
His laugh grated in her ear. “Like I’d really tell you. You’re not just a dyke, you’re a Jewish dyke, doubly damned. But one day,” his eyes took on a mad glint, “one day your kind will burn in the same fires your ancestors did — and we’ll use their money to make it happen.”
Alex stood, leaning over the desk, her weight on her hands. “Yeah? Maybe. But you won’t be here to see it. If they let me I’ll throw the goddamned switch to fry you.”
“You wouldn’t have the guts, you disgusting bitch.”
Teren reached out and pushed him back into the chair. He turned and leveled a glare at her.
“You should have died in Lithuania.”
“Yeah, and you should never have been born. Just shut up. I’ve killed enough people in the last couple weeks, one more won’t really matter.”
“Then do it.”
Teren shook her head. “Oh, no. You’re standing trial, and going to prison. I won’t let you just take the easy way out.” She glanced at Alex. “Wanna go see what’s holding things up?”
“Right.”
Alex moved out from behind the desk, and started towards the door. Just as she opened it there were gunshots in the outer office. Alex drew her weapon.
Teren turned slightly at the sound, and before she could turn back, Bishop was on her. She squeezed the trigger, but the shot went well wide, and he tackled her to the floor. Grabbing a loose hold on her hair, he managed to smack the injured side of her head into the carpet. As thick as the carpet was, the blow was enough to stun Teren, and she closed her eyes for a moment, against the pain. It gave Bishop just enough leeway to yank her head up and slam it back down again, and again. Then he rolled off of her and reached for her gun.
Alex had drawn her weapon at the first sound of gunfire outside the office, and but relaxed at Cliff’s call that it was okay, the shooter was under control. She turned back toward the office in time to see Bishop roll off of Teren and pick up her .45. Teren groaned and tried to roll over, her head wound bleeding once again. At the sight of the blood, Alex raised her gun, and went to one knee. She shouted a warning, but Bishop didn’t hesitate — he brought Teren’s gun up, his finger curled around the trigger, aiming towards the stunned operative.
The sound of two shots echoed loudly in the office. For a moment, everything froze.
Then, with almost exaggerated slowness, Bishop collapsed, blood pouring from his temples, where Alex’s bullet had entered and then exited his head. There was a groan as he rolled slightly on his side, then a wheeze from his lungs.
Then silence.
Both he and Teren were still.
Chapter Forty-two — Conclusion
FBI Agent Alexia Reis let herself drop down into the chair in her partner’s living room. David was once again on the couch, this time with his wife beside him. Sarah and Maggie, who had joined them for dinner, were seated next to each other by the fireplace, Maggie comfortably snuggled in Sarah’s embrace.
“Ah, Miri, that was a wonderful dinner.”
“Thank you, Alex. I’m glad you enjoyed it. You looked like you needed something special.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah. Besides, you make the best orange-sesame chicken in the world.”
Miri chuckled. “I’m not sure about that. But thanks anyway.”
David leaned forward. “So, you wanna explain what happened? Or are you keeping it to yourself?”
“No, I’ll talk.” She smiled at him. “Wish you’d been there, buddy.”
“Me, too, partner.” He winked. “Now, talk to us.”
“Okay.” She leaned her head back. “Where should I start?”
“Well, how about telling me a little about what I missed? The stuff in Europe would be nice.”
“Europe. Okay.”
Alex started the tale of how Teren had taken her to Switzerland, and their investigation at the art gallery, and the dinner with Meinhard. She continued with their receipt of the bank records and the discovery of their pursuers, then the subsequent train ride to Germany.
“You mean you guys took a five hour train ride together. In a sleeper car.”
“Yes, Miri.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Don’t tell me you spent the whole five hours talking about the case, Alex.”
“No.” The blonde grinned. “We played chess.”
She continued on, explaining their trip to Jurgen von Odbert’s house. Alex had to swallow when she spoke of the old man’s suicide. That was followed by a quiet recounting of the gun battle in the cemetery, and her fear when Teren had been shot. She stopped for a moment, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. Miri handed her a box of tissues, and she offered back a sad smile.
“So, that was the day that Gerd and I went through the papers that the BKA had seized from Eisenbein’s office.”
“And you found the connections between them and Treville and Dawkins?”
“Right. See, Radcliffe had agreed to the principle of CJ’s plan, but wanted nothing to do with the operations. So, he had Treville dealing directly with Eisenbein. They set up the separate account, with Treville and Richmond’s name on it. The money came from the fortune Odbert, or Hoppe, had collected during and after the war.”
“What was the plan?” asked Sarah.
“Well, to put it simply, they wanted to kill certain individuals, and blame it either on the far left or the far right, whichever they could, to make themselves seem more rational. Meanwhile, they started getting rid of people who were either in their way, or who stood for things they hated. They also wanted the left to be afraid, too afraid to act — and for a short while, they succeeded.”
“Okay,” David sat up a little straighter and frowned. “So, you guys found the connection, and the papers that named the guilty parties. Then you came back. Why didn’t you just go to Cliff and the Justice Department and have them arrested?”
“Because we had no idea who CJ was. With him still loose, nothing was certain. We could have arrested whoever, and he would have either killed them to stop them from talking — which is what he sent Treville and Davies to do —or he would have found a way to destroy our case. Director Collins knew from Ken and Cliff that there had to be a traitor, and he knew the guy would protect himself — which was why he had a CIA badge waiting for me when Teren and I got to the safe house. He figured that if he could get me out of the clutches of CJ, whoever he was, no more information would slip through— and Teren and I could close in on the others. Because of the international connections, the CIA had legal right to be involved. And while they couldn’t hold White and Dawkins as prisoners for the US, they could for Germany — which they did. The BKA wants all of them for their participation in Eisenbein’s Nazi agenda. It’s a serious crime in Germany, and if we hadn’t ever gotten to CJ, White and Dawkins would have been handed over to them.”
“But now?” Maggie asked.
“Now, they’re testifying against Richmond. In return, the BKA will not prosecute them in Germany. Though, they did have to agree to a long prison sentence, and a very large restitution. Basically, they both lost everything.”
David shook his head. “I still don’t understand. If Mark and Ben were able to get the information on Richmond while reporting in at the Bureau, why didn’t CJ, or rather, Bishop, warn Richmond, or try to get rid of Mark and Ben?”
“Cause he didn’t know. Mark and Ben had told Cliff they were chasing the money angle. They also told him that they thought there was a traitor in the FBI. He agreed, and let them have free reign. They didn’t tell anyone anything. So, nothing got to Bishop on what they were doing. With Tom and Rudy off chasing White, there was no one else on the team to give Bishop, or Richmond, the message.”