‘This is what we know. There is a man who uses the name Steven Jargo. He has no financial records. He owns no property. He does not travel under his own name, ever. Very few people have seen him more than once. He regularly changes his appearance. He has a young man who works with him, supposedly his son, and the son works under the name of Desmond Jargo, but there is no record of his birth, or his schooling, or him having anything like a normal life that creates a paper trail. They have a network. We don’t know if it’s just a few people or if it’s a hundred. We suspect, from the times the name Jargo has popped up, that he has clients, buyers for his information and his services, on every continent.’ Bedford opened up a laptop. ‘I’m about to show extraordinary trust in you, Evan. Please don’t disappoint me.’
Bedford pressed a button and activated a projector cabled to the laptop. The image of a body, sprawled on pavestones, one arm dangling in a turquoise pool. ‘This is Valentin Marquez. A high-ranking financial official in Colombia, one that our government was not fond of because he had connections to the Cali drug cartels, but we couldn’t touch him. His body was found dead in his backyard; four of his bodyguards were killed as well. Rumors surfaced that an American State Department official funneled money to a man named Jargo; he put a hit on Marquez. Given the political situation, this would not be an activity we want exposed: American officials illegally diverting taxpayer funds to hired killers.’
Click. Another picture. A prototype blueprint of a soldier wearing a formfitting jumpsuit. ‘This is a project the Pentagon has been working on, the next generation of ultralightweight body armor for field troops. This blueprint was found in the computer of a senior army official in Beijing by one of our agents, who was attempting to steal data on the Chinese conventional-weapons program. We kidnapped the official, and under duress, he told us he bought the plans from a group he called the Deeps. We found an attempt was made to sell the same armor prototype to a Russian military attache three weeks later. He refused the offer and attempted, instead, to steal the prototype from the seller. The seller killed the man, his wife, and his four children. The wife’s aunt, who was visiting, survived by hiding in the attic. She got a glimpse of the killer. Her description matches Dezz Jargo’s, although his hair was a different color and he wore glasses in Russia. Two months later, a major international armaments dealer made a proposal for a body armor that matched these specifications exactly. In short, Jargo works both sides of the fence. He steals from us, he sells to us.’
Evan closed his eyes.
‘Those are the closest cases we can tie to Jargo. We have several others where we suspect his involvement but can prove nothing.’
‘My parents could not have been involved with a man like that. It just can’t be.’
‘That’s what Carrie thought, I’m sure,’ Bedford said. ‘Her father worked for Jargo. Jargo killed her mom and dad. Or rather, had them killed.’
‘Shit.’
‘Her real name is Caroline Leblanc. Her father ran a private security service after a long career in military intelligence. He had come to the Agency and met with me, let me know that Jargo had operatives working in the Agency and people buying his services within the Agency. I asked him to remain in place, keep working for Jargo, but report to me. Jargo found out, or Carrie’s father slipped up. Jargo made her think the CIA was responsible for her father’s death. But Carrie came to us after her father’s death – she learned additional details that convinced her that Jargo was behind her parents’ murders. At tremendous personal risk, Carrie joined us and became our double agent within the Deeps.’
Evan found his voice after a moment. ‘Jargo killed her folks. And she kept working for him. My God.’
‘Yes. It was difficult but she knew it had to be done. Carrie is our single operative who’s gotten close to Jargo, although she’s only seen him face to face less than five times.’
‘So who sent her into my bed, you or Jargo?’
Bedford let the words die on the air. ‘A man like you, who looks for truth in the world, knows that life is complicated. I asked her to watch out for you. I didn’t order her to kiss you, sleep with you, or to care about you. She’s not who you thought she was… but she’s still Carrie. Does that make sense?’
He didn’t know. ‘Why were you and Jargo interested in me?’
‘I, simply because Jargo sent Carrie to watch you.’ Bedford cleared his throat. ‘He wanted to know what film you were making next.’
‘Film? I don’t understand. Wasn’t he watching me because of my parents?’
‘That would be the natural assumption. But he wanted Carrie to find out about your film plans. That seems to have been the genesis of his interest in you.’
‘He wanted me for this network. Like Carrie.’
‘Possibly. But then he’d have gotten your parents to recruit you. Like how John Walker talked his friend and his son into becoming spies for the Russians.’
Evan tried to imagine his parents sitting him down for that talk. The picture wouldn’t form.
‘But… Jargo never said a word to me about my films. He said I had files he needed. He wanted them in exchange for my dad.’
‘He told Carrie the files are information on his clients – the people in the CIA and elsewhere who hire him to do their dirty work. I don’t know why your mother went against Jargo, but she did. We think she contacted Gabriel to extract her and you. In return, she would have given him Jargo’s client list. Gabriel would have taken the list public, to shame the CIA – we fired him, because no one believed his stories that we had freelance spying occurring within the Agency – and to bring down Jargo.’
‘How did Mom get these files?’
‘Unknown. She must have worked for Jargo.’
‘So Gabriel was telling me the truth. Well, partially.’
‘Mr. Gabriel let his personal weaknesses and biases cloud his judgment. Both here and after he left the Agency. It’s very sad. I’ve asked the FBI to move his family to a safe location, hide them until we bring Jargo down. We told both the family and the Bureau that Mr. Gabriel gave us information on a drug cartel before he vanished.’
‘So… how long ago did Jargo order Carrie to get involved with me?’
‘Three months.’
‘When did my mother steal these files?’
‘I’m not sure, but we believe she contacted Gabriel last month.’
‘So Carrie was watching me… before Mom stole the files. That doesn’t make sense.’ Evan stood up, paced the room. ‘I never thought, never talked, about making a documentary about spies or the CIA or intelligence work of any sort. Why would he tell Carrie to watch me because of my films?’
‘He never gave her a more specific reason,’ Bedford said.
‘So she’s told you about what films I’ve made or might make.’
‘Yes.’
‘So, you must have an idea about what sparked Jargo’s interest.’
‘Tell me what your planned subjects were.’
‘Hasn’t Carrie reported all this to you anyway?’
‘I’d like to hear it from you, Evan. Tell me everything. This might be the key to locating Jargo. We find him, we get your father back.’
‘Won’t he just kill my dad? If my mom betrayed him, he’ll think my dad did as well.’
‘Carrie tells me Jargo has been rather protective of your father. I’m not sure why. Now tell me about your films.’
‘I thought about telling the story of Jameson Wong, the Hong Kong financier. He had the franchise for a number of luxury brands in Hong Kong. But he made bad investments, got grossly overextended, lost his fortune. When he got on his feet, he started funneling money from wealthy expat Chinese to groups that support reform in China. He went from being a self-involved CEO to a real voice for democracy.’
‘How did you choose him?’
‘I read an article about him in the New York Times. Is he connected to Jargo?’
‘Perhaps. Continue.’
‘Um, Alexander Bast. He was kind of the king of the London social scene about thirty years ago. High roller, slept with lots of famous women. Renaissance man, for a partyer. Ran three famous nightclubs but also two art galleries, a modeling agency. He lost it all, I think his accountant stole it from him, and then he started a small
