Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

“Should have listened to you, Sean,” she said slowly. “Should have just left the mall.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess. Didn’t want you to get hurt. But you look okay. And Michelle?”

“Standing right over there with the general, fit as a fiddle.”

“I’m glad. I’m so glad,” she said breathlessly.

“You should rest.”

She gripped his hand more tightly. “Those men?”

“Taken care of.”

“Have you figured out what is happening yet?”

“Getting closer every minute,” he lied. He glanced at Brown. “I know your hubby has been here every second. I think you got the marriage thing right this time. You guys were definitely meant to be together.”

She smiled while Brown looked down, embarrassed. Michelle patted him on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring look.

Dana said, “I feel okay, just so tired.”

“That’s the morphine drip. Enjoy it while you can.”

Her eyes closed and her hand slipped away as she fell back asleep.

Sean rose and went over to Brown and Michelle.

Brown said, “The doctors said it’ll take time but she should make a nearly complete recovery.”

“That’s great news,” said Sean.

Brown glanced at him and then looked away. He said, “About what we talked about before.”

Sean said, “You found out something?”

“The coffee shop, if you’ve got a minute.”

“We’ve got all the time you need. Let’s go.”

They got their coffees and took a table far away from all others.

Brown swirled a pack of sugar into his cup and stirred it slowly.

“The Pentagon has shut up like a clam on this,” he said.

“That’s what we heard.”

“But there’s been a fresh leak,” Brown said.

“That says we’re trying to overthrow Iran by laundering funds for weapons with poppy shipments?” said Michelle.

He glanced at her sharply. “So you saw it?”

“We saw it on a blogger’s site.”

“Well, that blogger is in big trouble.”

“I think he knows that.”

“Free speech is one thing. But you can’t print stolen national security secrets and get away with it.”

“So it’s true? About Iran?”

Brown took a sip of his coffee. “People look at the slaughter in Syria and think it’s bad. But they don’t see what’s happening in Iran. Or in North Korea. Those countries have shut down all communication with the outside world. Bodies are piling up like you wouldn’t believe.”

“So we’re going after Iran first. And North Korea second? I didn’t think North Korea had any opposition forces in country.”

“You’d be surprised. Many of them are displaced into South Korea, but want to go back home and change it. Iran was a test to see if something like this could work. If so, it would be deployed in North Korea.”

“Long shot,” said Michelle. “Even a billion euros might not buy you an overthrow of an entire government.”

“Didn’t have to. Just shake it up. If Iran or North Korea thought they were vulnerable from the inside they might tone down the rhetoric, come to the bargaining table, start to act like adults. Like you said, it’s a long shot but economic sanctions and threats from the outside didn’t work. We like to call it war on the cheap.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I only found out recently. This is classified as classified can be. If it’s discovered I told you I’ll be court-martialed.”

“No one will find out from us, Curtis, I can guarantee you that,” said Sean.

“I appreciate that.”

“So Sam Wingo?”

“Pentagon thinks he’s dirty.”

“He’s not,” said Sean.

“How do you know that?”

Sean looked at Michelle and said, “We’ve met him. He saved Michelle’s life when some guys attacked us.”

“What? Where? What guys?”

“Probably from the same group that shot Dana. But Wingo was set up.”

“So you’re working with him?”

“We’re trying to, but, as you can imagine, he’s not in a real trusting mood.”

“And his son?”

“With the father. But please keep that to yourself.”

“I have to even if I didn’t want to. If I admit to knowing that, I’ll have to tell them I met with you and then it’s all over for me.” He took another sip of coffee. “And the money?”

“Gone.”

“Does he know who set him up?”

“He has some theories. And he’s been doing some legwork to run down those theories.”

“Does he think it’s an inside job? You thought there was a leak at my office. But I checked, Sean, there wasn’t. There couldn’t have been.”

“I’m starting to think the leak is coming from another place. What do you know about Heron Air Service or the Vista Trading Group in D.C.?”

“Nothing. Are they involved somehow? I can check into it for you.”

“We have somebody doing that. How about Dan Marshall at the Pentagon? You know him?”

“A little. We’ve sat in on some meetings together. He heads up acquisitions. By all accounts, including my own, a straight-up guy. Please don’t tell me he’s mixed up in what’s going on?”

“That’s still an open question,” said Michelle. “His career will take a hit with the missing money. And even more so with where that money went. At least that’s what he told us.”

“I’m surprised he opened up to you.”

Michelle said, “We forgot to tell you, we have a brand-new BFF. [40] BFF – best friends forever. ”

“Who?” asked Brown.

“President John Cole.”

Brown gaped at her.

Sean asked, “How about Colonel Leon South? You know him?”

“No. Is he Army?”

“DIA.”

“I don’t have much to do with the military spooks.” Brown sat back, obviously out of ideas. “What else can I do?”

“Keep your eyes and ears open. I’m always available by phone. But I think Dana will be keeping you pretty busy now.”

Brown smiled. “I hope so.”

“And keep an eye on her, Curtis. Whoever’s involved in this may come back to her at some point.”

“They’ll have to go through me to get to her.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that.”

Outside the hospital there were two SUVs parked next to their vehicle. Two men and a woman in suits and shades stood in front of them.

Sean looked at Michelle. “Look familiar?”

“Yeah, they look just like we used to look.”

“You know where we’re going?” Sean asked.

“I know where we’re going,” answered Michelle.

ALAN GRANT AND DAN MARSHALL left together from the offices of Vista Trading Group.

“Thanks for making the trip downtown,” said Grant.

“No, thank you for getting me away from the Pentagon,” replied Marshall.

“Rough times continuing?” asked Grant.

“Getting rougher every hour, it seems. Have you seen the recent news?”

“Feeding off that same blogger. Iran? Afghan poppies? Really?”

“That’s what the media says. I can’t comment on it, not even to you.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Just take care of my daughter and the grandkids.”

“Maybe this will blow over, Dan.”

“Yeah, and maybe the sun won’t come up tomorrow either.”

They had a meal at a nearby restaurant and talked of things other than the disaster confronting Marshall. They said their goodbyes on the street.

“There’s going to be some diplomatic blowback from Iran on this,” observed Grant.

“No doubt. This will give Tehran an excellent opportunity to stick out its chest and start screaming at us. It’ll also give fodder to the whack jobs wanting to do us harm. Well, back into the fire pit I go.”