get out of the damned place. She had been sent to reconnoitre the prison and look for information. Her brief was not actually to acquire that information but to pinpoint its location. Any more would have been asking too much of her. Further ops would be devised to obtain it.
But Christine wanted to complete the mission in one go. She promised herself not to take unnecessary risks but the drive to get the computer was strong in her. Technical attacks against the prison and corporation data files had failed to produce anything of value. From the moment she first saw the minicomputer she knew it contained everything Mandrick reckoned was secret. If she could get hold of it, or the memory cards, she would have achieved far more than she had come for. If she left the prison that minute and reported her find her mission would have been a success. But she was impetuous and hungry for success. She knew it was recklessness encouraged by her ego. Still, the closer she got to Mandrick, or the closer she allowed him to get to her, the more she believed she could succeed. If she attempted it while she was in the prison it would be a two-phase operation: first to get her hands on the material, second to get it and herself to the surface. It didn’t matter if Mandrick knew she had it once she was clear of Styx.
But that was the difficult part. If he found out before she reached the surface Christine would be in serious danger. The other option was to meet him in Houston and do the whole dinner thing. The risk with that would be if it was his habit to leave such a precious item in the safety of the prison.
Mandrick put down the phone and came back to her. ‘Where were we?’ he asked. ‘Oh, yes. You were telling me how you loathed me enough to have dinner with me in Houston.’
A buzzer interrupted them. Mandrick looked up at the bank of monitors that displayed practically every part of the prison. One of them showed a man in slacks and a jacket standing in the cavern outside his office. ‘There’s my luck again. I know you were about to give yourself to me. But duty calls.’ He produced his remote control and hit a button on it. There was a clunk as the door hissed and opened.
The man strode into the room, his manner authoritative. He was grim-faced and large, like a former lineman, still naturally tough but aged and out of condition. He seemed anxious to say something but held back as soon as he saw Christine.
‘Hank. How was your trip?’ Mandrick asked.
‘Fine,’ Hank replied dryly.
‘This is Christine Wineker from the Federal Bureau of Prisons.’
‘Yeah, I heard.’ Hank could not make his reluctance to meet her more obvious.
‘Pleased to meet you too,’ Christine said. She knew he was CIA, probably one of the senior guys if not
‘Hank’s one of our VPs,’ Mandrick explained.‘I don’t know what the hell he does, though. Just turns up here once in a while to get in the way.’
‘We need to talk,’ Hank said, ignoring the charade.
‘I was on my way out,’ Christine said, shouldering her laptop and heading for the door.
‘Thanks for stopping by,’ Mandrick said.
Christine did not look back. Mandrick closed the door behind her.
‘What the fuck is going on?’ Hank blurted out as soon as the door had sealed shut.
‘You sound in a bad mood,’ Mandrick said, walking over to his desk.
‘I’m gone three goddamned days and the goddamned wheels start falling off the place.You gonna tell me that ferry disaster was an accident? I could tell it was a goddamned massacre all the way from Florida.’
‘Why are you acting so surprised?’ Mandrick’s question was sincere.
‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?!’
‘Hank. The order came from your own people.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘OK. The order came from Forbes. Now, if you suddenly believe he’d make a decision like that on his own then you are crazy.’
Hank was stunned. His voice became quieter. ‘You’re serious?’
‘He told me it was a direct request from your outfit.’
‘Why?’
‘The feds were trying to slip one of their people inside as an inmate. We had no ID so . . . everyone had to buy it . . . You clearly didn’t get the memo?’
‘They’re out of their friggin’ minds.’
‘But we know they’re not. They thought it through and decided it was a good idea.’
‘It could close this place down.’
‘They have to prove it wasn’t an accident.’
‘That’s the first really dumb thing I’ve heard you say. I don’t care how you did it - there’ll be a clue and someone’ll find it.’
‘Hank. You’ve misread me. I couldn’t agree more.’
‘Then why the hell did you do it?’
‘I didn’t realise the Agency had given me veto power.’
‘You should’ve called me.’
‘Now you’re starting to sound pretty dumb yourself.’
Hank had to agree. He just couldn’t believe it.‘There were smarter ways of handling this.’
‘There’s one clue lying in the hospital.’
Hank looked at him. ‘Styx hospital?’
Mandrick nodded. ‘The lone survivor - from the prisoners, that is. The other one was Gann.’
Hank shut his eyes and squeezed his temples tightly. ‘Shit. I should’ve guessed that moron was involved.’
‘You thought I would get my own hands that dirty?’ Hank pondered the situation for a moment. ‘How do we know he’s not the fed?’ he eventually asked.
‘We don’t.’
Hank went silent again.
‘Interesting, isn’t it? We don’t kill him we could be damned, but if we do and he’s the fed . . .’
‘It doesn’t seem to bother you,’ Hank said accusingly.
‘I take life as it comes.’
‘You can afford to.’
‘I’m not in control. I’m just a hired hand.’
‘And getting well paid, too. How is that offshore bank account? Don’t forget that’s the reason this place came about in the first place.’
‘This place was built by your people to interrogate political prisoners.’
‘Maybe. But the mine’s drying up, isn’t it? I know that. You people want out now, don’t you? And while we’re on the subject of money, my bank account hasn’t seen any zeros added to it for a couple months now. That looks to me like someone’s planning on leaving without paying the rent that’s due.’
‘Why’re you bitching at me? I’m on the same level as you when it comes to distribution.’
‘Sure you are. How ’bout we take a look in your safe? I’ll give odds there’s a bag of gems sitting in there right now.’
Mandrick sighed, tired of the line the conversation was taking. ‘When I first met you at the start of this project you gave me a long and patriotic speech about the purpose of this prison. You cited national security, revenge for nine-eleven, protection of fossil fuels and the lifeline of this great country’s economy. You never mentioned money. I’m not pointing the finger, Hank. In the end it all comes down to money. And you’re due your share.’
Hank looked away as if Mandrick had wounded him - which, in fact, he had. Hank was a patriot who had lost his way.
Mandrick saw the effect of his dig but he knew he could not afford to make an enemy out of Hank.‘You’re wrong, anyway. We’re not planning on leaving any time soon. I would know . . . No one’s ripping you off, either. Pay’s been slow the last couple of months because of the market. It’s not the first time. It’ll pick up . . . You’re wrong about the mine, too. It’s doing just fine.’
Hank regretted his own outburst. He didn’t like to hear himself talking about money. There was a time when
