“They’re off,” he said.
“What about Louise?”
“I sent her back to work. I think she’ll be more useful to us on the job. That way we won’t have any trouble getting satellite time if we need it.”
“Did you tell them I would be right behind them?” McGarvey asked.
Rencke nodded. “The Bureau is working on it, and so is the Virginia Highway Patrol, but except for the one call no one’s heard a thing.”
“Todd told me that Givens apparently had proof that Howard was connected with the Friday Club,” McGarvey said. “Which makes Foster and that crowd one of my best bets.”
“Lots of heavy hitters, Mac.”
“They’ll have a weak point. Someone on the edge, someone new, maybe someone’s whipping boy, someone with a grudge, someone in trouble who might be willing to make a trade.”
Rencke nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime do you want me to come down to the Farm with you?”
“No, I want you at the Campus. Before this is over I’m going to need some serious backup.”
Rencke looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and he looked as if he were on the verge of tears, but he nodded. “How do you want to start?”
McGarvey had thought about it. Going up against Foster and the others in the Friday Club would be dicey at best. One word from them and he’d be in trouble. The Bureau would almost certainly try to come after him, which would slow him down. Something he didn’t want to happen. When he went up against them he would be looking for reactions, but not until he was ready. For that he needed more information.
“I’m going to need whatever you can come up with for the second name on Turov’s computer, Roland Sandberger. His deep background, his associates, his connections, money trails, that sort of thing, as well as a list of his current contracts.”
“He’s president of Administrative Solutions, but you knew that. Former Army Delta Force operator who was on the front lines in both Gulf Wars and Afghanistan. Got out four years ago as a bird colonel and started his contractor company. He pays his people very well — too well — which means his troops are super-loyal, but which also means he started with bags of money. Source unknown at this point. He gets the best people, he gets the best results, and he gets the best contracts.”
“Find out if he has any connection with the Friday Club. I’m betting he does,” McGarvey said. “Could be one of his sources for contracts.”
“That shouldn’t be too tough to find out,” Rencke said.
“And I want a running tab on his itinerary. I want to know where he is right now, and where he’s going, when he’s going, and who he’s going with or to meet. Tap his phones, hack into his computer, whatever it takes. When I go after him I want to know what I’m up against.”
Rencke nodded uncertainly.
“I especially want to know when he’s out of the country.”
“Shit,” Rencke said softly.
EIGHT
It was just getting light when McGarvey went downstairs and got into the car with Tomlinson and the driver who had brought him in from Andrews. Work traffic had started up across the Key Bridge, then south down the Jefferson Davis Highway where, past the Pentagon, they picked up I-395.
Already it had been a long day and even longer night, and McGarvey laid his head back with his dark thoughts, unable to close his eyes let alone get some sleep. He kept seeing Todd’s body. His death — the manner of his death — had been more than an assassination, it had been a message: Don’t fuck with us; we’re capable of and willing to strike back to protect our interests.
Administrative Solutions certainly had the manpower and the expertise for a hit like that. It wasn’t clear if they had the motive, the name of the contracting firm’s founder and president had been in Turov’s computer, and that was a start.
It was certainly possible that the Friday Club had hired Admin; there had been a link between Howard McCann and the club, and McCann, through Turov, with the company. But it did not mean that the Friday Club had ordered Todd’s assassination and the murders of Givens and his family. The links were there, but they weren’t strong enough to take to the Bureau or for McGarvey to take any action.
Yet.
“Have my wife and daughter reached the Farm?” he asked.
“They’re about five miles out,” Tomlinson said.
“No troubles?”
“No, sir. Would you like to talk to Mrs. McGarvey?”
“That’s not necessary,” McGarvey said. “Just make damn sure that the perimeter is clear and stays that way.”
“Yes, sir,” the Company security officer said, and he began relaying the orders via his comms unit.
The interstate south was in fairly good shape, most traffic was heading into the city, not out, and by the time they reached the large wooded reserve of Quantico that was home to a Marine Corps Unit, a cemetery, and the FBI’s training center, McGarvey had finally been able to shut down enough to close his eyes and drift into a restless sleep.
His cell phone vibrated against his hip, waking him instantly. He sat up and looked out the window not immediately recognizing where they were, except traffic had increased and they were obviously on the outskirts of a fairly big city. Probably Richmond, he thought, which was only a half-hour from the Farm.
He answered on the second ring. “Yes.”
“Mrs. M and Liz got there okay,” Rencke said. “Where are you?”
“Outside Richmond, I think,” McGarvey said, the cobwebs clearing. “What do you have for me?”
“Foster and his Friday Club are big, kemo sabe. I mean really big. The White House has been using the group to float new policy issues. Don Hestern, he’s Frank Shapiro’s assistant, is one of the regulars.” Shapiro was the president’s new adviser on national security affairs.
“Anyone from the Company since McCann?”
“Not that I’ve found out so far, except I’m sure it’s not Dick. I’ve got his Fridays covered since McCann went south. But considering Foster’s reach I wouldn’t be surprised if we had somebody over there.”
“Give it to security, see what they can find out.”
“I don’t think that’s such a hot idea, Mac,” Rencke said. “Look, if Adkins or Whittaker or someone else upstairs gets wind that we’ve started an internal investigation — a rogue investigation — a lot of shit’s going to hit the fan. And it’ll point toward you, something I don’t think you want right now.”
Rencke was correct. “Then you’ll have to look down everyone’s track on your own. But if someone stepped in for McCann, it’ll have to be one of the top people in either Operations or Intelligence.”
“Or someone on Dick’s staff,” Rencke said. “Someone close enough to the DCI’s office to know policy developments.” Rencke was silent for a moment. “And you know what that would mean.”
“That McCann had the cooperation of someone else inside the Company,” McGarvey said. “The point is what the hell do they want?” McGarvey said.
“Foster is pushing the conservative movement. After Bush it’s become an uphill battle. So these guys are serious.”
“Yeah, but to what end?” Mac said. “What the hell are they after that’s so important they’d gun down a CIA officer in broad daylight on a major highway? And what about Mexico City and the polonium, and the Pyongyang assassination? Because if there’s a pattern in there I don’t see it.”
“Neither do I,” Rencke said heavily. “Neither does anyone else. But killing Todd for whatever was on the real disk Givens gave him is connected.”
