“No, they wouldn’t. They exposed Aldrich Ames.”
“He was still alive, so they had to do something. If he’d shot himself, they would have made it look like an unfortunate end to a glorious career and hushed everything up.”
Whitaker stopped and gave glared at Taylor.
“Hey,” he said, holding up his hands in a don’t shoot gesture, “I’m just pointing out how things really are. If anything, the military’s worse when it comes to something like this. It’s the way it is. They were never going to come out and say, ‘we had a bad officer who did all these bad things.’ What’s worse is that the people who ordered all of this aren’t even getting that. They’re getting away with everything.”
They reached the street, and Taylor held out an arm, waving down a passing taxi.
“They’re who I’m worried about. These are the type of people who believe they’re above everything. If they think we’re in any way a danger to them, they’ll silence us.”
“Is that why you didn’t want to mention the journal or turn it over?”
Taylor had managed to signal to Whitaker as they were being apprehended to say nothing about the journal. Since the cops had kept them separate, he hadn’t been sure she’d gotten the message until later, during the interrogation.
“No, that won’t matter to them. We already know enough to be a problem.”
“So, how do we make ourselves not a danger?”
“We can’t, so we go the other way. Everything’s a balance sheet with people like this. We have to make it so that it’s not worth the costs of coming after us. We have to make ourselves radioactive.”
She had more to say, but Taylor waved her off, opening the taxi door for Whitaker to get in. They rode to the Wissler Trust offices Taylor had previously visited in silence, both to gather their thoughts and because this wasn’t the type of conversation they wanted to have in front of a stranger.
“I still don’t like it,” Whitaker said once they were out of the car.
“I know. This is what I’ve been trying to say for a long time now. Laws are great, and policies have their place, but not everything falls into those black and white guidelines. Sometimes reality forces our hand. They bought off a police officer and had him murder multiple people and frame us, just to keep a journal hinting at illegal activities from surfacing. They aren’t going to let the law keep them from doing whatever they want to do. There are only three ways out for us, here. Getting every last one of them arrested on something so damning they won’t be able to wiggle out of it, which considering their political clout doesn’t seem feasible. Killing everyone involved with the trust until there’s no one left to come after us. Again, not a feasible option. The only remaining option is convincing them it’s better for them to leave us alone.”
“Using the journal? Won’t that just make it worse? Won’t they just come after us to get it back.”
“That’s the tricky part. Let’s go.”
Any other comments Whitaker might have had were cut short when Taylor walked away, into the trust’s offices. At first, the secretary tried to blow them off, but Taylor made enough hints that it would be worth their while for someone to speak to them and mentioned the person he’d met before. She seemed skeptical as she called up to check, but as soon as she told the person on the other end who was in the lobby, and what they wanted, Taylor and Whitaker were escorted to a small conference room where he’d previously met with the trust representative.
They were barely seated when the same man that had met Taylor before walked into the room, a stark change from the long wait he had experienced the last time he was here. Taylor also couldn’t help but notice that the lawyers were notably absent this time.
“Mr. Taylor, I have to say I’m surprised to see you. I had been under the impression we cleared everything up the last time.”
“Well,” Taylor said, “now that your man Graf isn’t around anymore, things have clearly changed.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Taylor had to hand it to him, the guy had a hell of a poker face. He was either excellent at hiding the truth, or he was too low on the totem pole to know the truth.
“Maybe, but someone here does know what I’m talking about. I’m sure there’s a chance you’re not high enough in the family to need to know what’s actually going on, but I want to make sure you don’t blow off my warning. We have Fredrick’s journal, which lays out just about everything the family has been doing, for years. We have a bunch of supporting documents that prove at least parts of it, thanks to the records that Graf kept. That may just cover more recent stuff, but it will be enough to make anyone who looks at the journal, take it seriously.”
“Mr. Taylor, I don’t think...”
“Wait, hear me out. Like I said, I don’t care if you don’t believe me or want me to think you don’t believe me. It doesn’t matter. You just need to hear me. We’ve given all of this to someone we trust, but whose untouchable even by you. You know the kind of contacts I have because of my last visit, so believe me when I say the information is safe. If something should happen to me, to Whitaker, or to anyone we care about, we will send everything we have to every major journalist in both our country and yours, along with politicians and prosecutors. Considering the contacts we have, they’ll be taken
