The Collectors

Stone shook his head. “I’ve got it. Alex, I know this is a stretch for you, and I really appreciate it. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“Oliver, we’ll get Caleb back. And if this is the spy ring that people have been whispering about and we can bust it, you guys all deserve medals. When you get the call, let us know the details. I’ve got multiagency support on this. Just so you know, I didn’t have to beg for volunteers on this one because a lot of guys are itching to nail these bastards.”

Stone climbed into the car with the others.

“And now we play the hand,” Annabelle said.

“Now we play the hand,” Stone affirmed.

CHAPTER 63

THE CALL CAME AT PRECISELY ten o’clock. Stone and the rest of the group were in a downtown hotel suite. The man on the other end started to dictate the time and place to meet, but Stone cut him off.

“We’re not going to do that. We have Albert Trent. You want him back, then we’ll do an exchange on our terms.”

“That is not acceptable,” the voice said.

“Fine, then we turn your buddy over to the CIA and they can ‘coax’ the truth out of him, including naming names, and believe me, what I’ve seen of Trent, it won’t take long. You won’t even have time to pack a bag before the FBI knocks down your door.”

“Do you want your friend to die?” the man snapped.

“I’m telling you how they both can live, and you can avoid going to prison for the rest of your life.”

“How do we know this isn’t a trick?”

“How do I know you’re not planning to put a bullet into me when I show up? Simple, we have to trust each other.”

There was a long pause. “Where?”

Stone told him where and when.

“Do you realize what tomorrow will be like down there?”

“That’s why I picked it. We’ll see you at noon. And one more thing: If you harm Caleb, I will kill you personally.” Stone clicked off and turned to the others.

Milton looked fearful but determined. Reuben was examining the contents of the leather pack Alex Ford had given them. Annabelle’s gaze was directly on Stone.

Stone went over to Reuben. “How’s it look?”

He held up two syringes and two bottles of liquid. “Amazing stuff, Oliver. What will they think of next?”

Stone walked into the adjoining room, where an unconscious Albert Trent was strapped to the bed. Stone stood there, fighting a strong impulse to attack the sleeping man who’d caused them all such pain.

A minute later he rejoined the others. “Tomorrow will be a long day, so we need to get some sleep. We’ll run two-hour shifts watching Trent. I’ll take the first one.”

Milton immediately curled up on the couch while Reuben lay down on one of the double beds. Both men were asleep within a few minutes. Stone went back into the other room, sat down in a chair next to Trent and stared at the floor. He jerked when Annabelle pulled up a chair beside his and handed him a cup of coffee she’d made. She was still dressed in jeans and a sweater, but her feet were bare. She curled one long leg under her as she sat down.

He thanked her for the coffee and added, “You should get some sleep.”

“I’m more of a night person, actually.” She glanced at Trent. “So what are the odds of everything going perfectly tomorrow?”

“Zero,” Stone answered. “It’s always zero. Then you do all you can to beat that number, but sometimes it’s out of your hands.”

“You speak from experience, don’t you?”

“What else do you speak from?”

“Bullshit, like most people, but not you.”

He sipped his coffee and stared off. “Alex Ford is a good man. I’d go into battle with him anytime. I have, in fact. We actually have a decent shot at doing this clean.”

“I want to kill that little creep,” she said, watching the unconscious Trent.

Stone nodded and ran his gaze over the man. “He looks like a mouse, a desk jockey, which is exactly what he is, to most people. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets other people to do it for him, and this cruelty has no limit because he doesn’t have to see it or dirty his hands. Because of people like him, our country has been put at great risk.”

“All for money?”

“I’ve known some to claim it was about a cause, about following their beliefs, even about the excitement, but it’s always really about the money.”

She eyed him curiously. “You’ve known other traitors?”

He glanced sideways at her. “Why do you find any of this interesting?”

“I find you interesting.” When he remained silent, she said, “We were talking about other traitors?”