“Christ,” Bender said.
He knocked on the door, and after a pause when there was no answer, he knocked again.
“Maybe they’re out back,” Alicia suggested.
The door was unlocked. Bender opened it. “Hello,” he called.
McGarvey and Pete came around the corner just as Bender shouted hello at the open door.
“Here we are,” McGarvey said.
Startled, Bender and the woman turned around.
“The question is, what the hell are you doing here?” McGarvey demanded, but he knew damn well why they had come.
“We wanted to interview you and your wife,” Bender said.
“You’ve already had your interview.”
“But we have new information, and we want your reaction,” Alicia said. “May we come in?”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Alicia Sherman, FBI,” she said, taking out her ID wallet and holding it open. “I’m the assistant SAC in our New York office. I was handling the investigation into the recent deaths of the Russian UN diplomat and the director of Thomas Hammond’s UN liaison office. We think that there may be a connection with those events and the attempts on your life.”
“You should have telephoned me,” McGarvey said.
“They want our face-to-face reaction,” Pete said. “Standard interrogation tradecraft.”
“May we come in?” Alicia asked.
“How did Hammond react when you talked to him?” Pete asked.
Alicia smiled a little. “We’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”
“You came in by helicopter and it took off, so you’re stranded for the night, I suspect,” McGarvey said.
“We’ll spend the night in town,” Bender said. “We’ve come a long way, not only to investigate the incidents in New York but maybe, if we pool our resources, we might be able to help save your lives.”
“Or get yourselves killed.”
“Part of our job description,” Alicia said.
“And get in our way.”
Bender’s eyes widened a little, and he glanced beyond McGarvey and Pete in the direction from which they had come. “You were out scouting. You think the attack will be sometime tonight?”
“It’s possible, and we don’t want you two getting in the way.”
Bender started to object, but McGarvey held him off. “You have no military background. I checked. And whatever happens, if it’s tonight, it will almost certainly be run like a military operation. It will be very fast, and they’ll want it to be as quiet as possible so they don’t have to deal with the local cops. You two wouldn’t have a chance.”
“I’m a Marine combat veteran,” Alicia said. “Two tours in Afghanistan as a cop. And if you think I was just a dumb grunt, you’re wrong, Mr. Director. I was Lieutenant Sherman. First Lieutenant Sherman. And I almost always hit what I shoot at.”
McGarvey had to laugh, though without any real humor, only resignation. “Okay, Lieutenant Sherman, the two of you might as well come inside and ask your questions. When you’re done, you can go back down the hill.”
It was twilight and getting dark when McGarvey led them through the lighthouse and back to the pool. He did not turn on the lights even though he was sure that the attack would come in the early-morning hours, maybe two or three.
Pete got beers for them and brought them out.
Bender shook his head and held up a hand. “We’re on duty,” he said, trying to be sanctimonious.
“Not tonight,” Pete said. “Glass?”
“No,” Alicia said, and she took one of the beers and drank deeply. “Good.”
“What did Hammond say to you?” McGarvey asked when they were settled.
“He called you a son of a bitch and said that you screwed him out of a lot of money,” Bender said. “He told me that you pissed him off.”
“Fair enough from his side of the fence.”
“He’s holding a grudge.”
“Strong enough to pay to have me killed?”
“I think it’s a real possibility,” Bender said.
“I agree,” Alicia said.
“We’re looking into his recent financial transactions, but most of them are from blind accounts or third- and fourth-party signatories who are lawyers, and whose orders are almost certainly verbal, which would give them attorney-client protection.”
“We’ve done the same thing,” McGarvey said.
“Mr. Rencke?” Sherman asked.
McGarvey ignored the question. “Hammond’s a person of interest, but just that.”
“Then who do you think is coming after you, and why?” Alicia asked.
“In this case, what I think is irrelevant, because there’d be nothing the Bureau could do about it,” McGarvey said.
“We’re listening,” she said.
“Some of the bits and pieces we’ve managed to come up with suggest to me that the Russians may be involved, but strictly on an unofficial level.”
“Can you share some of the bits and pieces?”
“No.”
“Have you shared any of it with the CIA?”
“Some,” McGarvey said. “Finish your beer, and we’ll call a cab for you.”
“We’re staying,” Alicia said.
“No,” McGarvey said.
“We’re just doing our job, Mr. Director. Protecting witnesses in a murder-for-hire plot.”
SIXTY-FIVE
Otto met Mary at the cafeteria in the covered walkway between the Old Headquarters Building and the New Headquarters Building, floor-to-ceiling glass windows looking out onto the courtyard. It was well after normal lunch hours, but the place was still fairly busy.
They got their trays—Mary a salad, and Otto a burger and fries—and found a table with a view of the Kryptos statue, with the coded inscription Otto had deciphered a couple of years ago for an operation that McGarvey had been involved with.
“It’ll be getting dark over there pretty soon,” Mary said. “Does Mac think it might happen tonight?”
“He thinks it’s a possibility. He and Pete went out on a scouting trip to look for some decent defensive positions.”
“Lord almighty. Just the two of them against what’ll likely be a Russian op.”
“What makes you so sure it’s the Russians?” Otto asked.
“Most of the time, I don’t have Lou, but I do have my sources. And it’s a fairly sure bet that Mr. T. Hammond has got himself involved with a southern European pipeline deal for Gazprom.”
“That’ll be an uphill battle.”
“At least that tough,” Mary said. “But Hammond has a lot of very solid business connections in France and Belgium,
