Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“So you want us to deliver Sam Wingo to you, using his son to do it?” said Michelle.

“That’s basically the plan, yes. I’ve been told the boy will say nothing to my people. You’re the only ones he trusts.”

“And if we betray that trust?” said Michelle, her voice rising just enough for the two Secret Service agents to draw a step closer to them.

“Better than betraying your country,” pointed out Cole.

“Was Jean Wingo part of this?” asked Sean.

Cole nodded but tacked nothing on in speech.

“She’s disappeared.”

“We know that.”

“But she didn’t come in to you?” asked Sean. Cole shook his head. “So she might have another partner in this deal.”

“Like Sam Wingo?” shot back Cole.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, I did. So, will you help me?”

Michelle looked at Sean and Sean looked at her.

He said, “We need to talk about this.”

“I can give you a few minutes alone,” said Cole.

“We’re going to need longer than that,” said Michelle while Sean looked at her nervously.

Cole raised both eyebrows and then gazed for a long moment at the ceiling. He rose with an extremely disappointed look on his face. “I expected better, I really did. I assumed that a direct appeal from your commander in chief would carry the day. I could have pushed you off to a lower-level flunky, but I flew you up here to go eyeball-to-eyeball. To tell you that your country needs you.” He paused. “And you tell me you have to talk about it.” He shook his head disgustedly. “Well, I guess they don’t make them the way they used to.”

“We’re between a rock and a hard place, Mr. President,” Sean said by way of explanation. “It’s not as cut-and-dried as it may seem.”

“Billy here will show you out. Thanks for humoring me. I’ll await your… answer.”

With this curt dismissal, Sean and Michelle turned to the door.

As Billy walked them down the hall Michelle said, “How is your family doing, Billy?”

“Fine.”

“I remember your wife had a rough pregnancy.”

“She’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Michelle waited but the question never came.

Finally she said, “Just so you know, I’m fine too.”

They got back on the chopper. As soon as the door closed it lifted off.

Sean and Michelle settled into their seats and strapped on their belts.

“Well, now I know what it’s like being cold-cocked by the president,” she said.

Sean shrugged. “What did you expect? A medal for meritorious service? His ass is in the fire. He’s looking for any way to put the flames out. That’s why he let us leapfrog the normal chain of command.”

“And it’s our fault all this shit happened?”

“We made the choice, so I’d say we’re partly accountable.”

“We were helping a kid find his dad, Sean. I never expected this to become an international incident.”

He sighed. “I know. Neither did I. But now we’ve got the most powerful man in the world pissed off at us. That’s cause for worry in my book. A big worry.”

WHEN THEY RETURNED TO FBI HEADQUARTERS, Sean asked Agent Littlefield to take them to see Tyler. The expression on Littlefield’s face was not encouraging.

Sean said angrily, “Look, you have no right to keep us from seeing him. He’s probably scared out of his mind right now.”

“I wouldn’t know if he was or not,” said Littlefield evasively.

Michelle said, “And why would that be? Can’t you just ask him?”

Littlefield said nothing. He simply aimed his gaze at a spot on the ceiling and seemed to be pretending Sean and Michelle weren’t even there.

Sean looked at her. “I think he’s sending us a telepathic message.”

“Okay, let’s see if we can grab the signal.” She put a finger to her forehead and closed her eyes. “Wait for it, wait for it, okay, it’s coming.” She leaned down and got right in Littlefield’s face, her hands on her hips.

“How the hell did the FBI manage to lose a sixteen-year-old kid?”

Now Littlefield met her eye. “We had no reason to believe he was going to make a break for it.”

“And you had no reason to believe he wasn’t either,” Sean pointed out. “But from the WFO [36] WFO – Washington Field Office (of the Federal Bureau of Investigation). ? Really?”

“How?” demanded Michelle.

“Does it matter?” asked Littlefield.

“It might just help us find him.”

Littlefield slumped in his chair.

“He said he was hungry. Wanted a hot dog and curly fries from the vendor outside. He also wanted some air. Sent one of the old codger uniforms with him. Our guy had two dogs and a pack of fries in his hands and was trying to pay for the food when the kid took off across the street like a rocket. Right in the middle of rush hour. In less than a minute he was gone. Our guy said the boy could flat-out run.”

“Uh, yeah, he’s sixteen freaking years old with long legs,” said Michelle. “And he’s on the swim team, which means he has tons of endurance. But I’m sure you knew all that. Which makes me wonder why you sent an old codger out with him in the first place!”

“He wasn’t under arrest. He wasn’t being detained.”

“It was your job to keep him safe. Now he could be anywhere,” said Michelle. “Including dead.”

“Okay, I get all that,” said Littlefield miserably. “I screwed up.” He looked from one to the other. “So what now?”

“Now we find Tyler before some other folks do,” said Sean. He added, “I’m assuming we’re free to go?”

“For the time being. But I’ll feel a lot better if I send some agents with you. For personal protection, of course.”

“No offense,” said Michelle. “But the Secret Service does personal protection a lot better than you, so we’re good to go.”

“So what did the president want with you two?” asked Littlefield.

Michelle said, “To congratulate us on our work to date.”

“Cut the crap. What did he want?”

“He wants us to do something,” said Sean. “And we’re thinking about it.”

“The president asks you to do something and you’re thinking about it?” Littlefield said incredulously.

“You know,” said Michelle. “That’s exactly how he sounded too. Well, take care, we’ll be going now.”

She put her hand on the knob and eyed Sean. An invisible message seemed to have been telegraphed between them.

Sean said, “We’ll keep you abreast of our investigation if you do the same.”

“You know I can’t promise that,” said Littlefield.

“Good,” said Sean. “Then we’ll keep you in the dark on ours too.”

They left.

As they walked down the hall Michelle said, “Where do you think Tyler went?”

“He got a message back from his dad. My guess is he got another one.”

Sean was already pulling his phone out and checking the back door he had established on Tyler’s Gmail account.

“And there it is. And unfortunately it’s not in code.”

“Why unfortunately?” asked Michelle. “If it’s not coded we should be able to break it easily, even without Edgar.”

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?”

He handed her the phone.

She eyed the screen, reading the short email.

Tonight at ten. Usual place.

“Usual place,” said Michelle, her brow furrowed.

“Seemingly straightforward information without context is better than code,” noted Sean. “There’s no logical way to crack it because we don’t know where the usual place is.”

“Sure there is,” countered Michelle, tossing him back his phone.

He caught it and stared at her as she sped up on her way out of WFO.