Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

Edgar said, “He actually received a suspended sentence and probation and did some community service. But his conviction was later vacated and all charges were later dropped.”

“So Franklin Grant was really the only one who bit the bullet,” said Sean.

“Maybe despite trying to be a whistleblower he had a guilty conscience,” reasoned Michelle.

“Or more integrity than some of the others involved,” replied Sean. “But the bottom line is, this gives Alan Grant a great motive to have planned what is happening now.”

“I’ll confess I was too young to really follow Iran-Contra. What exactly happened?” asked Michelle.

Sean looked at Edgar. “I wasn’t too young. But you’ve just done the research. You can probably explain it better than I can, Edgar. The details are a little fuzzy for me.”

Edgar looked at him sadly. “Your massive brain cell loss.”

Michelle coughed to cover her laugh.

Sean looked indignant. “Okay, listen up, I have a normal brain cell loss for someone… for someone of my age.”

“There are medications that can help,” offered Edgar sincerely. “And I know some specialists in the field.”

Michelle had to stifle another laugh.

“Iran-Contra, okay? Can we get to it?” said Sean expectantly. “Because we’re wasting time focusing on my brain shrinkage.”

Edgar sat back. “It sounds complicated, but it’s actually very simple. It started out as a way to free American hostages held by a radical group with ties to Iran. The original scheme was for Israel to ship weapons to Iran and then the U.S. would resupply Israel and receive payment from them. Then it devolved into a straight arms-for-hostages scheme in which weapons would be sold to Iran, something that was banned under U.S. law, and the hostages would be released in return for those sales. Then the plan was later modified so that an intermediary in Iran was used to sell the weapons and a portion of the resulting proceeds was used to funnel money to the Contras in Nicaragua. This was done so that Manuel Noriega and his Panamanian Defense Forces could help overthrow the Sandinista leadership, which was no friend of ours. But additional support to the Contras by American intelligence agencies had been prohibited by an act of Congress. Thus, the reason for the clandestine plan to get around that prohibition while at the same time trying to gain release of the hostages from the Iranian forces through the parallel arms sales.”

“And you call that simple ?” exclaimed Michelle.

“Well, yes,” said Edgar matter-of-factly.

“As simple as politicians seem to be able to make anything,” noted Sean. “And Noriega later turned out not to be such a good friend.”

Edgar nodded. “Not unusual. After all, we liked Saddam Hussein until we didn’t like Saddam Hussein.”

“Remind me never to run for public office,” said Michelle.

“Or become a dictator,” amended Sean.

Sean leaned back in his chair and looked at Michelle. “Iran-Contra back in the 1980s. And now George Carlton’s blogger source has alleged that the U.S. has attempted to funnel money through sales of Afghan poppies to anti-Iranian forces to buy weapons in an effort to overthrow the government there. It’s not an exact parallel.”

“But maybe the best he could do under the circumstances,” said Michelle. “He didn’t initiate the scheme, Sean. Maybe he just found out about it and that was the catalyst for him to do what he’s doing.”

“Are we talking about Alan Grant?” asked Edgar.

Sean nodded. “He’s in cahoots with someone with connections to Heron Air Service. Sam Wingo was following that guy. He might have led him to Grant for all we know.”

Edgar said, “But I could find no connection between Vista and Heron.”

“There might be no discoverable connection. Or they might have covered their tracks really well. They might even have been the air service that was used to get the cash out of Afghanistan. Wingo said men flashing CIA creds took the shipment from him.”

Michelle said, “But then the cash probably didn’t end up in Iran.”

“No. I think it might have ended up back here.”

Michelle said, “Look, maybe this is just a very complicated robbery. Grant is Marshall’s son-in-law. Marshall knew about the euros. Maybe he let it slip to Grant and Grant plans the heist and nabs the cash.”

Sean shook his head. “I would’ve thought that but for the history of the parents. Pretty strong revenge motive there. I don’t think it’s as simple as a billion euros. If it was a simple robbery, why give George Carlton all that ammo for his blog? No, he’s discrediting Cole and his administration. And Grant doesn’t need the money, does he, Edgar?”

“His business appears to be very successful with several significant clients in the government sector. His home is worth nearly a million dollars, and the mortgage was paid off three years ago. His credit history is excellent and he has no outstanding judgments or pending lawsuits against him. I even hacked into his tax returns; his income places him in the top tier of earners.”

“You hacked into his tax records?” said Michelle. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not really. I have pretty much carte blanche to go where I need to go. National security is a very large hall pass. And I just sort of extended that privilege to the work I was doing for you,” he added, a bit lamely.

Sean slipped the flash drive from his pocket. “And now we have this.”

“What’s on it?” asked Edgar eagerly as he took it from Sean and popped it into his computer’s USB slot.

“The blogger’s source’s emails. There’s the usual IP trail on there. We’re hoping you can tell us where it came from. I doubt the sender made it easy, but if at all possible we need for you to track it back.”

Edgar pounded his keys at speed as his eyes darted over the screen. “Usual protocols didn’t work.”

“How do you know that?” asked Michelle.

“Because I just employed them.”

Sean and Michelle stared at each other. In a low voice Sean said, “I think he’s actually growing more brain cells every day, not losing them. Maybe he’s taking some of mine by like osmosis or something.”

“Do you even know what osmosis is?” she hissed back.

“I did back in high school.” In a louder voice he said, “If you figure it out, let us know ASAP.”

Sean and Michelle got up and left.

“Why do I feel so stupid every time I’m around him?” said Sean.

“Because by comparison, we are.”

She stopped walking and Sean bumped into her.

“What the hell? he exclaimed. “Michelle, are you…”

He stopped talking when he saw what she was looking at.

Sam Wingo stared back at them.

“YOU’RE A HARD MAN TO find,” said Sean.

“Well, here I am,” said Wingo. He took a step forward.

“Yes, here you are,” said Sean. “And how did you come to be here?”

“I followed you. But no one else did in case you were worried about that.”

“Then you’re really good because we didn’t see you,” said Sean. “Where did you pick us up?”

“At the hospital. Tyler told me about your friend. I gave a stakeout a shot and you two popped into it. Was that the Secret Service dropping you off?”

“The very same,” said Sean.

“Where were you?”

“Classified.”

Michelle looked over Wingo’s shoulder. “Where’s Tyler?”

“In a safe place. I needed to make sure of things before I brought him out.”

Sean said, “You mean you needed to make sure of us. Are you?”

“I need help. And I don’t say that lightly. And Tyler thinks you’re okay. So I think you’re okay.”