“The Directorate has the front and rear entrances covered.”
“We’ll have to figure something out. I want Rob to personally sweep everything, and I have a little job for him.” Stansfield slid the pad over and showed her what he’d written. “Mitch?”
Kennedy shook her head. “Nothing so far.”
Stansfield scribbled, “Message Service?”
“I’ve been checking.” Again she shook her head.
“Victor?” Stansfield wrote.
Kennedy shrugged. She didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth, but he was going to hear it from Hurley, so she reasoned she might as well give him the latest. She was about to speak, and then she reached for the pen and paper. She began printing in neat block letters. “Claims Mitch sent a decoy into the safe house and then ambushed them. Killed McGuirk, Borneman, and two DGSE agents.”
Stansfield was reading as she wrote. “Oh, my God.”
Kennedy kept scratching. “V in the process of destroying surveillance van, and the other incriminating evidence. Claims he had to flee for his life and Borneman’s body was left at the scene.”
The deputy director of Operations kept his composure despite the fact the situation had just become drastically worse. He grabbed the pad from Kennedy. Held the pen for a moment and then wrote, “Do you believe him?”
Kennedy shook her head vigorously.
“Are they looking for him?” Stansfield asked.
“Not that we know of.”
The deputy director scratched out another question. “Have they ID’d Borneman?”
“We have no idea. The police are handling the investigation and the Directorate isn’t exactly known for their cooperation.”
“Unless it’s to their advantage.” Stansfield put the pen to paper again, “What was DGSE doing there?”
“Not sure, but if I had to guess I’d say they followed V and his people there.”
“Why do you say that? They could have known about it beforehand.”
“Stan and Paulette had dinner last night.” Kennedy grabbed the pen. “Paul Fournier showed up unannounced and joined them for a bottle of wine.”
“You think they had Stan under surveillance?”
“Yes. I was followed all the way from the airport to the Embassy when I arrived last night.”
“And this morning?”
“There was a car. It’s probably behind us right now.”
Stansfield nodded.
“Does Deputy Director Cooke have any idea what’s going on?”
“No.”
“Did you let him know you were leaving?”
“No, I ordered another jet. His will be waiting for him when he gets to the airport in another six hours.”
“And when he asks where you are?”
“I have Waldvogel flying over with him. He’s going to tell him I was forced to make other travel arrangements.”
“And if he digs?”
“The Brits wanted to meet with me about something.”
“And if he checks with the Brits?”
“He’ll find out that I had breakfast at the British Embassy this morning.” Kennedy’s eyes narrowed, revealing tiny wrinkles.
“He could probably verify that if he wanted to.”
“And he can go right ahead.”
“We’re having breakfast at the British Embassy?”
“That’s right.”
“May I ask why?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
They rode in silence for a while and then Stansfield wrote, “You need to convince Mitch to talk to me.”
“I can’t even get him to talk to me.”
Stansfield tapped the pen on what he’d already written.
“I know. I’ve been trying to figure something out, but he doesn’t exactly trust us at the moment.”
“He’s going to have to start, Irene, or I’m going to be left with no other choice.”
