The Triangle Conspiracy

Daryn looked at Sean.

“There’s no other way,” Sean said. “You heard what Sanborn said at the end.”

“Sean,” Faith said, “I’m going to advise you to keep your big Irish mouth shut, okay? This is what I do, and you stay out of it. Also, the fact that I still don’t know the extent of your involvement in this makes me wonder how deep you are in it. I’ll deal with you later.”

Sean sat back. He’d never heard the cold, official Department Thirty side of Faith before. He raised his hands in a mock surrender.

“Who’s older?” Daryn said suddenly.

“What?” Faith said.

“You’re brother and sister. Which one of you is older?”

“He is, by eighteen months,” Faith said.

Daryn nodded. “Interesting dynamic, isn’t it?”

“It would be if we were talking about my family dynamics,” Faith said. “But we’re not. There are two questions you have to answer. Do you believe you need protection, either from prosecution or from the threat of bodily harm? And do you believe you have information vital to the national interests of the United States? Yes or no, right now.”

“Yes, on both counts,” Daryn said, her head high.

Faith spoke to Sean but kept looking at Daryn. “Sean, you have to leave now.”

“What?” Sean said. “But I brought her in. I’m the one who-”

Faith whirled to face him. “Listen to me, dammit! The less you say the better, for her, for me, for yourself. Just for your information, most of my department’s cases don’t come in this way. We find them, they don’t find us. There’s only been one exception in the department’s history. So we all have to be very, very careful here. Do you understand me? I’m not bullshitting you, Sean. This is the way it has to be done.”

“But-”

“No buts. If she qualifies for the program, which we still don’t know at this point, every aspect of her life will change. She will have no connection with her past life. Do you know what that means? It means you won’t ever see her again. I don’t know what’s going on here, between the two of you, but you brought this to me, and now you have to understand the implications of what you’ve done. You get that, big brother?”

“Jesus, Faith, you’re-”

“A coldhearted bitch, I know. I’ve been called everything in this job. Don’t get me wrong. You’re still my brother and you’ll always be my brother, but by calling me in on this, you’re in a whole different universe now.”

“I know. At least I guess I…” Sean’s voice died away. He looked past his sister to Daryn.

“I guess you didn’t finish the job my father hired you to do,” Daryn said. Her look now was triumphant.

Sean pressed his fingertips to his head. “No. I’m not even thinking about that anymore. I…Kat, I mean, Daryn…it’s different. I didn’t have to call Faith. I could have let them arrest you, or I could have let you take your chances with Sanborn. You’re so committed to your agenda, and Sanborn twisted it so much, that-”

“You should listen to your younger sister,” Daryn said. “Just stay out of it from here on out. I’ll deal with whatever happens next.” She sat back in the lumpy armchair. “No last fucks for the road, Sean. Or I could call you Michael, for old times’ sake. You got a lot more sex than you paid Kat Hall for, so you shouldn’t complain.”

Faith looked at both of them, but kept silent. Pain was scribbled on Sean’s face, as if in bloody red capital letters. When she looked back at Daryn McDermott, the girl’s own expression had changed again, with a softness she hadn’t expected. Furrows slashed into her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Daryn said, and her voice was very gentle, almost faint. “Could I just lie down for a while?”

Faith observed the way Daryn’s manner could shift so abruptly, so completely. This was, she thought, a very dangerous young woman.

“Yes,” Faith said. “Down the hall, first bedroom to the right. There’s a sleeping bag you can use. Be sure to shake it out. It hasn’t been used in a while.”

“Thank you, Faith.”

Without looking back at Sean, Daryn heaved herself up from the chair, as if it were a great effort, and walked out of the room.

Faith looked at Sean. “You should stay out of sight for now,” she finally said. “I still don’t know what’s going on here. The tip about Bank of America…they caught the group there.”

“We didn’t know about the Chase bomb,” Sean said wearily. “Turns out Sanborn anticipated that we’d call someone, and he used the B of A group as a diversion, while he took the other set of explosives to Chase. Jesus Christ, Faith. How bad is it? The bombing. Could this city stand another thing like that? Could any city?”

“If any city could, this one could,” Faith said. “But I don’t know anything else about the extent of the damage. Scott’s there, and I’ll find out more from him later. For now, you go back to the house. Don’t stop anywhere, don’t do anything.”

“You mean, don’t drink,” Sean said, standing up.

“Yeah, I do mean that. Take my car.” She dug in her purse for keys and tossed them to him. “Yours is gone, I guess?”

A strange look came over Sean’s face. “Sanborn took it. He had a gun on us, on Daryn. My gun’s…”

“Where?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. How will you get home?”

Faith shrugged. “I’m not sure when I’ll get to go home. When I’m doing an intake like this, I sometimes don’t get to go home for a couple of days at the very beginning. I’ll either get Scott to give me a ride, or if he’s too tied up, I’ll have someone from the Marshals Service get me a car. I’ll have to call in a couple of them to work protective detail for your friend in there.”

“Faith,” Sean said.

Faith waited.

“I’m sorry.”

Faith nodded. “Go on back home. Try to forget about her. I don’t know what’s already happened, and I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but you have to put her out of your mind.”

“She’s not an easy woman to forget.”

Faith glanced down the hall. “I believe you,” she said.

21

FAITH WAITED UNTIL SHE HEARD THE MIATA LEAVE the garage. Then she walked to the front window, pulled aside the curtains, and watched her car until it reached the corner and turned.

She walked down the hall, doing a breathing exercise as she went. When her friend Alex had had a baby, three months premature, last year, Faith had learned about the power of controlling one’s breathing, and now often used prenatal breathing exercises to steady her nerves and focus her senses.

Daryn McDermott wasn’t lying down when Faith walked into the bedroom. Rather, she was sitting on top of the sleeping bag, her back propped against the wall. The lights were off.

“Let me turn on the light,” Faith said.

“Don’t, please,” Daryn said. “I get these terrible headaches, and it’s better in the dark when I have one.”

“If someone shoved you to the ground, you may have a mild concussion,” Faith said. “The offer of medical attention still stands.”

“No, thank you. Getting shoved to the ground didn’t cause my headache.”

“All right.” Faith sat down on the floor, at an angle to where Daryn sat. Not too close, not too far away. “Can I get you anything? A glass of water? I’ll do some shopping later and get some supplies in here.”

“No, nothing.” The sky outside had become overcast, and much of the room was in shadow. “Tell me something, Faith. Are you as good a lover as your brother?”

Faith didn’t blink and didn’t hesitate. “That depends on who you ask, I suppose.”

Daryn chuckled lightly, yet another new emotion from her. “True. Your brother’s quite good, actually.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. Though you never can tell in some families.”

“Voice of experience?” Faith said.

Daryn was silent for a long time. “You’re impressive. Usually when I make statements like I just made, people are shocked, appalled, outraged that such a pretty young ‘thing’ would talk about such matters.”

“Number one: you’re not a thing. Number two: nothing shocks me. I am capable of outrage, though.”

“I’m sure you are. So am I.”

“Obviously.” Faith crossed her long legs at the ankle. “What outrages you, Daryn?”

“Social injustice. Phony moralistic laws, unfair tax codes that punish real people while the ruling classes-those like my father and his cronies-gain wealth and power on the backs of others. My father’s never worked an honest day in his life.”

“Well, I’m no lover of politicians myself, and trust me, I’ve known a few.” Faith wondered what Daryn would say if she knew that the newly reelected president of the United States considered Faith a personal friend. Faith didn’t like the man, but that hadn’t stopped them from doing “professional favors” for each other.

“Oh, it’s not just politicians. I’m not just another antigovernment nutcase.”

“That’s refreshing.”

“Yes. It’s the entire fabric of society. It’s corrupt and immoral, cloaked in this invisible language of ‘values’ and ‘the American dream’ and that kind of silliness.”

“Okay, then,” Faith said. “What led the daughter of a United States senator to be here, at this point, talking to me? Start with this guy Sanborn. He sent people to break into your apartment, you get away, and somehow you wind up connected with him afterward.”

Daryn moved her head in the semidarkness, but only slightly. “I misjudged Franklin.”

“You don’t seem surprised to find out that he sent those guys to your apartment.”

“I’m not surprised by anything I learn about Franklin Sanborn now. I trusted him, and he betrayed that trust.”

“Who is he? Ever since you-or ever since Katherine Hall, I should say-became a missing person a week ago, and I found out from the local police that the guys who broke into your apartment drove a car rented by Franklin Sanborn, I’ve been trying to find out about him. He’s a ghost, a phantom. He doesn’t exist.”

“He was a professor in Indiana.” Daryn’s voice was very soft and very even. “I think he was fired for his political views. He’d read about one of my tours last year and he found me in Washington. He had a plan, he had a vision for the cause I was already promoting. That’s how we created the Coalition for Social Justice.”