29
Irish
When Cope and I went inside, Stella, Buck, and Burns were sitting in the living room. Decker was patched in via video-conferencing on one of their computers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said to Burns, reaching out to shake his hand.
“It’s an honor, Mr. Warrick,” he responded. “I’ve learned of your bravery from our friend Mr. Ashford. Yours as well,” he said to Cope.
“Where is Ali?” Decker asked him.
“Lying down. She isn’t feeling well.” Both he and I looked back at Burns when he cleared his throat.
“I believe what you’re about to read may hold some of the information you’ve been seeking.”
Buck handed Cope an envelope that he passed to me. “You go first,” he said. Before opening it, I looked up at Stella, who appeared hopeful.
The bulk of the report was about Kim Ha-joon, the South Korean secretary-general of Interpol, who wasn’t South Korean at all. The name he was currently using was one of several known aliases. His given name was Chen Wang-Su, and his father had worked in Chinese intelligence for many years. He was a known associate of Ming Shen-Lin—a Hong Kong citizen infamous in intelligence circles and rumored to be a double agent if not triple.
It came as no surprise to me that China would maneuver one of their spies into Interpol, only that it took us so long to figure it out.
I felt a sense of relief at knowing that China was involved. This was the proof. I wasn’t crazy or paranoid or grasping at straws, not that anyone had ever suggested those things. I’d wondered it myself.
“As Buck said earlier, the current Interpol executive team knows exactly who he is,” said Decker.
Burns leaned forward. “This serves as nothing more than a warning.” He looked directly at me. “You, better than anyone in this room, understand the risks involved in continuing to pursue what we all now know to be Operation Argead. The global reach of this organization is infinite, and they are backed by the most powerful nations in the world, each with their own agenda.”
“Understood, sir.”
When Burns stood, I did too. “Come with me.”
I followed him out to the porch, where Ink waited in one of the SUVs.
“When this is over, I’d like to invite you to visit me at Butler Ranch.”
“I’d be honored, sir.”
“I’ll put you under advisement that my wife, Sorcha, will want every last detail about your mission, but she will reward you with some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, not to mention my son and daughter-in-law’s wine.”
Hearing those words from Burns, a man I’d admired from a distance the entirety of my career, buoyed me as I went inside after thanking him.
As I closed the door behind me, I saw Decker’s computer screen go dark. There was too much tension in the room for it to have been him ending the video chat.
“What’s going on?”
“All Decker said was that he received word from Casper that something had gone down.”
Within a few minutes, he called back. “I don’t have all the details, but it’s bad. I’m leaving for Ireland now. I’ll be in touch after I’ve assessed the situation.”
“Do you need backup?” Buck asked.
“I’ll engage Rile and see who we’ve got over there.”
Two days later, we still hadn’t heard from Decker with an update about what was happening in Ireland, but a nasty storm had moved into the Crested Butte area, causing flooding throughout the valley where the ranch was located. Fortunately, there had been no damage reported to any of the Roaring Fork structures, at least as of yet.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was the Fourth of July, just like I knew when other holidays came and went. It had been so long since I’d celebrated any of them, I anticipated today would go like every other.
“Hey, Buck,” I said when I answered his call in the late afternoon.
“My brothers and sister are serving dinner in the dining hall tonight. I also heard my brother Holt might be playing a set later.”
“If you’re calling to invite me, I’m going to take a pass on this one.”
“You okay, Irish?”
“No different than usual.”
“Sure I can’t change your mind?”
“No. I’m good. I have a couple of leads I’m following.”
“Need any help?”
“I’ll let you know if I do.”
I’d lost track of time when my cell rang again, this time with a call from Decker.
“Are you all together? I’d rather only do this once.”
“Negative, but we can be.”
“Call me when you are.”
I immediately called Cope, who reported he saw Buck and Stella return to the cabin a couple of hours ago. When I came out the door, he and Ali were waiting for me.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her.
“Hanging in there.” She rubbed her belly like maybe it had been a stomach bug.
“I got a call from Ashford. Something went down in Ireland. He asked if we were all together, and I told him I’d let him know when we were,” I explained once we were inside Stella’s cabin.
I opened my laptop and sent a message to Decker. Seconds later, he appeared on the screen.
“First of all, Byrne is dead, along with three of his henchmen,” he began. “There was a hostage situation that culminated in us eventually finding a box that held the evidence he was after.”
“Which was?” asked Cope.
“Nothing that referenced Operation Argead or linked him to anyone from Interpol, past or present.”
Cope looked as though he was about to speak again, but shut his mouth when the rest of us in the room glared at him.
“What we did learn is somewhat shocking. Do you all remember the reporter Veronica Guerin? Turns out she wasn’t investigating drug gangs as was reported at the time. She was part of a task force working on exposing corruption within the Irish Military Intelligence.
