Velocity

felt like a sacrificial lamb.

“Agent Vail,” Knox said. “Good of you to finally join us.”

“I just got word—”

“I received a call about an hour ago,” Knox continued. “Do you know who it was?”

“I’m guessing it was Administrator McGuire,” Vail said, and glanced at McGuire. Is he salivating?

“That’s right,” McGuire said. “I had a scheduled meeting with the president, which was supposed to be happening—” he consulted his watch “—right about now. Only once have I ever told a president I had to reschedule. And that was when I was in an ambulance on the way to an emergency appendectomy.”

Vail licked her lips. Something tells me I’m about to have some scars of my own.

“Do you know what the problem is?” Knox asked.

“No sir, not exactly.” There’ve been so many things I’ve fucked up. Take your pick.

Knox’s eyes flicked over to McGuire before settling back on Vail. “I’m pulling you off this case. Effective immediately.”

“You mean Rob—Detective Hernandez’s case?”

“That would be the one,” McGuire said. “You weren’t officially authorized to be working it, anyway. And if you’d kept your nose out of things, we wouldn’t be needing to have this discussion.”

“Okay,” Gifford said, lifting a hand. “Just hold it right there. We all know that’s not true.”

McGuire snorted. “We don’t know it’s not true. Agent Vail—”

“No need to rehash it,” Gifford said. “I’ve heard your position.”

McGuire’s hard stare spoke volumes. Gifford, a subordinate, was standing up to the DEA administrator. Ballsy. Risky. And—holy shit—it sounds like he’s defending me.

“Your actions,” McGuire said to Vail, “have seriously jeopardized a years-long effort to take down the Cortez cartel. And while I understand your knee-jerk, ill-conceived, half-assed attempt to find your boyfriend, we are professionals. We all know the risks when we go undercover. Detective Hernandez certainly knew them.”

Gifford shifted his feet, turned his head, and looked off at the wall. Vail couldn’t help noticing. Interesting body language—that statement made him uncomfortable. Why? Because he feels responsible for what happened to Robby?

“This operation is far more important than absolving yourself of guilt over having blown his cover. And possibly costing him his life.”

Vail clenched her jaw. She had reached her tolerance point for taking the bullshit McGuire was doling out. Respect for authority or not, she could not let his statement stand without a response.

“I resent the implication, sir,” Vail started.

“I’m not implying anything. I thought I was pretty damn clear.”

“Bronson,” Knox said firmly, “that’s enough. This has been a tragedy. For the DEA op, for Detective Hernandez—and, yes, for Agent Vail. Pointing the finger is not going to get us anywhere. Move on.”

“Fine,” McGuire said. He turned to Vail. “Then let’s get something straight. If you ever get in the face of one of my ASACs, I’ll make sure you’re busted down from the BAU so you regret your behavior for a good long time.” He faced Knox. “The Bureau is done here. Don’t come near my operation. I’ll let you know when we find Hernandez. Alive—” he turned to Vail—“or dead.”

McGuire slammed the door on his way out. The room was silent.

“Don’t worry about him,” Director Knox said. “He’s got no jurisdiction over Bureau personnel matters. I’ll clean up the mess once he calms down. But me . . . that’s another story. We are done with this case, and you do have to do as I tell you, Agent Vail. Because I do have the power to make your life miserable. And I know you’re not even close to retiring from the Bureau, so let’s be honest. Your work is exceptional but you tend to find yourself in deep shit more often than is acceptable. Don’t think I’ve not been made aware of all your recent escapades. And for an FBI director to be made aware of the actions of a profiler in the BAU, that means something’s wrong with its management.”

Knox did not look at Gifford, but the implications were clear.

Shit. Gifford deserves a lot of things, but blame for my screw-ups is not one of them. “Mr. Gifford suggested suspending me by a crane over the Potomac to keep me out of trouble.” Levity. Did it work?

Knox looked at her, an expression that said he was gauging whether or not she was serious. Gifford was facing away, clearly uncomfortable.

Gazing squarely at Vail, Knox said, “That may yet be a good idea.” He turned to leave. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

When the door clicked shut, Vail found a nearby chair and fell into it. Hard.

Gifford stood there, staring at her, sucking his bottom lip. Seconds passed. “Damn it, Karen.”

“Sir—”

“No. Just goddamn it. I have a love-hate relationship with you, you know that? You frustrate the hell out of me. I don’t know what the hell to do with you sometimes. If you weren’t so damn valuable to the unit, I’d recommend you be kicked out of the Bureau so far you wouldn’t be able to find your way back.”

Vail leaned forward and rested her forearms on her knees. This time, for once, she kept her mouth shut.

“What the hell were you thinking? Threatening Yardley, a DEA ASAC? What possible good did you think would come out of that?”

“We were trying to get information about Sebastian’s CI,” Vail said. “Yardley didn’t want to help us out. I was just trying to save Robby.”

“Yeah, about that. Your behavior might just have sealed your boyfriend’s fate. Because we can’t do anything to help find him now. And we’re the ones who are most concerned about his well-being.”

Gifford’s voice was now so loud Vail was sure it could be heard on the other side of his door.

“Do you realize that? We are fucked. You heard the director.”

“I heard him, but—”

“Robby’s status—a task force officer—was some goddamn fabrication we created to help him advance his career because there was no task force. But it leaves him in no-man’s-land. He’s not one of DEA’s own. Will they go to the end of the earth to save him? Probably. But do you see any written guarantees? Because I sure don’t. I can tell you that this op is hugely important to them. They have to nail it to show the war on drugs is worth pumping more money into. With all federal budgets under pressure, you bet they need a home run on this. Normally, they’d do everything they could to get Robby back. But with all this in play, it’s not a normal situation.” Gifford hung his head and said, beneath his breath, “And it’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

“No sir. I’m the one who blew his cover.”

Gifford’s head snapped up. “And I’m the one who pulled strings to get him into that operation in the first place.” He shook his head, leaned back in his chair, and massaged his face briskly with a hand.

Vail watched him. He was under unaccountably severe duress. Yes, a law enforcement officer was in danger. And some time ago, Gifford had promised Robby’s mother he would look after him. Was that all there was to this? Or was there something more?

“Sir, we’ll find him. Hector and I have got a line—”

“Karen, I don’t want to hear this. I can’t hear this. Did you get what the director just said to you? The Bureau’s done, we’re out of this. Our hands are tied.”

“Your hands are tied, sir. I don’t intend to sit by and wait for Robby’s body to show up on a morgue slab, or worse—along the side of some Mexican highway. Not gonna happen.”

Vail realized Gifford was not listening. He was staring ahead, at nothing in particular. Eyes glazed.

“I promised his mother I’d look after him. On her death bed, I promised.”

Vail studied his face a long moment—and then it hit her. She should have seen it before . . . the information had been there, teasing away at her brain for months, but she never put it all together. Until now, the look in Gifford’s eyes. Guilt—but not just guilt.

“Robby isn’t just the son of a good friend, is he, sir? He’s your son.