“Do what?”
“The preemptive action.”
“Good God, Bunting,” she hissed. “You’re talking about this out in the damn hallway? Have you lost your mind?”
“Just give me a little more time.”
She looked him up and down and then closed her office door in his face.
On the drive back to the airport, Bunting noted the inconspicuous building set at the end of a strip mall. And the brick structure that backed up to a suburban neighborhood. Then there was a building that looked like it was made of all glass but that in reality had not one window in the place. These were all footprints of intelligence gathering. They were stuck like splinters into pieces of the outside world and most of the people passing by them had not the remotest idea what went on inside of them.
Intelligence work was dirty and at times deadly. Whether your adversary was killed quick with a bullet or slow with an enhanced interrogation session, or was anonymously obliterated by a drone strike launched from thousands of feet up, he was still dead. Like Edgar Roy might be soon. Dead.
Bunting settled back in his seat and let out a long sigh. Right now the two-point-five-billion-dollar contract didn’t seem nearly worth it.
CHAPTER
35
“DO WE SHADOW Carla Dukes? Do we go see Edgar Roy again? Do we try to bust Murdock’s chops somehow? Do we dig into Kelly Paul’s background and see what turns up? Do we investigate Bergin’s and Hilary’s murders? Do we keep going after the six bodies in Edgar Roy’s barn?”
Michelle fell silent and looked expectantly at Sean as they walked along the oceanfront near Martha’s Inn.
“Or do we do
“We multitask well.”
“Nobody multitasks that well.”
“But we have to do something.”
“The six bodies can cut two ways. Either someone knew that he was the Analyst for the government and framed him. Or he killed those people and the government is trying to keep what Roy actually did from the public.”
“But you don’t think he did it, do you?”
“No, though I don’t have any solid reasons to back that up.”
“So the people framing him must be enemies of this country. They know what he does and they’re trying to stop him? But why not just kill him? He lived alone on that farm. It would’ve been easy.”
“Well he must have had security, so it might not have been that easy. But maybe they wanted to do more than simply deprive America of its brilliant analyst.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Sean admitted.
“Who do you think shot out our car windows?”
“Either our side or the other side.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Lot of dangerous folks out there.”
“Exactly.” Michelle took his arm. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Ninety minutes later Sean was walking out of Fort Maine Guns with a new Sig 9mm.
“I haven’t fired a pistol in a while.”
“Which is why we’re going there next.” She pointed to a door in a building adjacent to Fort Maine with a sign outside that said Shooting Range.
An hour later Sean studied his results.
“Not bad,” Michelle said. “Total score of ninety percent. Your kill zone shots were right where they need to be.”
He glanced at her targets. The holes were huge because the bullets had all congregated in the same spot.
“What was your score?”
“A bit better than yours. But just a bit.”
“Liar.”
When they got back to the inn Megan was hard at work at the round table in the parlor, with papers and files strewn around.
She looked up when they walked in the room.
“What are you doing?” asked Sean.
“Working on some motion papers.”
“Regarding what?”
“Ms. Paul’s information was very intriguing. I want to know whatever the government knows about Edgar Roy’s background. And what he actually does for them.”
Michelle said, “But if he is working in intelligence they won’t tell us anything. They’ll just bury it under national security mumbo-jumbo.”
“That’s right. But if we can get that on the record it may be enough to raise reasonable doubt in a jury’s mind. It’s certainly critical evidence. And in order to try to get that evidence we have to pull the government’s chain. Hard.”
“But the guy may never go to trial,” pointed out Michelle.
Sean said, “But if he does, some of the forensics help us. The different dirt, for instance, found on the bodies. It’s possible the bodies were brought from somewhere else and dumped in Roy’s barn.”
“Well, that could be all the exculpatory evidence we need,” said Megan hopefully.
“Unless they argue Roy killed them somewhere else, hid the bodies for a while there, and then dug them up and brought them to Virginia.”
“And buried them in his own barn so someone could find them and arrest him?” said Megan incredulously. “For such a smart guy that’s pretty dumb.”
Sean said, “And then there’s the mysterious caller that conveniently tipped the police off about the bodies in the first place. Who is that person and how did he know about the bodies? Maybe the tipster killed the people and set Roy up.”
“We still have to prove that,” noted Michelle.
“No, proof of guilt is the government’s job. We just have to raise it as a way to get reasonable doubt in a jury’s mind,” responded Sean.
Michelle said, “Murdock will be really pissed off when he sees the filings.”
“Let him be.” He looked at Megan. “You cool with that?”
She smiled. “The FBI doesn’t scare me anymore.”
Sean and Michelle headed up to his room. “There are a lot of roads we could go down, but I want to focus on Carla Dukes.”
“She’s probably an FBI agent.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“You and I have dealt with lots of FBI agents. She’s no spring chicken, so if she were with the Bureau she’d have been with them for years now. She doesn’t have the walk or the talk of an FBI vet. And an FBI agent would
