Дэвид Балдаччи - King and Maxwell

Sean looked off, thinking. “If Alan Grant bought or rented a satellite, what would be his reason?”

“Spying?” said Michelle.

Sean looked doubtful. “For whom? And why the billion-euro theft? Edgar said you could rent space on a satellite for a lot less than that. And Grant has to be the source for the blog. The administration is taking incredible heat over it. You saw how worried President Cole looked. And if this whole thing is payback for what happened to Grant’s father during Iran-Contra, then the satellite must figure into the plan the man has.”

Sean put down his coffee cup and pointed at the screen. “Edgar, can you find a list of commercial satellite operators?”

“Yes.”

“Can you find out who might have rented space on one of them in say the last few weeks or so?”

“I can try.”

“Okay,” replied Sean, picking up his coffee cup again.

Michelle said, “What are you thinking?”

“Communication, that’s what satellites are for. What I’m thinking is Grant is into communicating, running the show. He fed George Carlton all the secrets about the debacle in Afghanistan.”

Michelle nodded, a glimmer of understanding coming into her features. “You think he’s using the satellite for communicating something else?”

“Yeah, I do. I just don’t know what. And it might not simply be information.” He looked at Edgar. “Using a satellite, you can control things on the ground, right?”

“Yes. The government uses it to operate the power grid, the nuclear arsenal, command and control functions, lots of things we all depend on.”

Michelle interjected. “You think he’s trying to take over the U.S. nuclear arsenal?”

“No. Those would be on government birds and protected as well as anything can be. Plus you have manual safeguards for those suckers back on the ground.”

“Well, what then, Sean?”

“I don’t know,” he said, visibly frustrated. “But whatever it is, I know it’s going to be pretty damn significant.”

“While Edgar is working on all this, what do we do?”

“We have to talk to Wingo. Tell him what’s happened.”

“Like you said, he might go off the deep end.”

“It’s all in how we phrase it, Michelle. It’ll take some diplomacy.”

“So you want me to talk to him?”

“Uh, no.”

“Why not?” she wanted to know.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re about as diplomatic as the punk running North Korea.”

“Maybe so, but I’m also a lot tougher.”

ALAN GRANT WAS NOT PLEASED by the day’s developments.

Sean King had been at Heron Air Service but had gotten away yet again.

The home of Trevor Jenkins had been broken into, and while nothing appeared to be missing, he couldn’t be sure of that.

He picked up the burn phone and made the call using an electronic filter to disguise his voice.

Sam Wingo answered on the first ring.

“Yes?”

“We have a problem, Wingo.”

“What is that?”

“Two problems, actually. King and Maxwell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I asked you to stand down.”

“I am standing down. I haven’t moved since you called me last time.”

“But your friends have.”

“They are not my friends.”

“Do you want me to send a body part from your son to get my point across?”

“Listen, please, just don’t hurt him.”

“I know that you’re working with King and Maxwell so don’t try to bullshit me. And if you think I’m going to stand by and do nothing while they seek to find me, then you’ve made an egregious miscalculation.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Put them out of commission.”

“How?”

“I’ll leave it to your imagination. You can kill them if you want. I don’t really care. If I find them interfering one more time, Tyler gets delivered to you in a body bag. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” Wingo replied in a hushed voice.

Sean and Michelle pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car.

Sean said, “I’m really not sure how to approach Sam on this.”

“Don’t ask me. I’m down there with the punk from Pyongyang on the diplomacy scale.”

“Look, I didn’t mean it exactly like that.”

“You meant it exactly like that.”

Sean knocked on Wingo’s motel room door. “Sam, it’s us.”

“Come on in, the door’s unlocked,” Wingo called out. They opened the door and walked in. Michelle closed it behind them.

When she turned back around she saw that Sean had his hands in the air. She looked across the room.

Wingo was standing there, his gun pointed at them.

“Is there a problem?” asked Sean.

“I got a call. You two have been snooping around. They said if you keep it up, Tyler comes back in a body bag.”

Sean eyed the gun. “Sam, we told you what we were going to do. We agreed that was the best plan to get them back safely.”

“No, you agreed that was the best way. I didn’t really have a say.” He flicked the gun. “Now I do.”

Michelle said, “You’re playing right into their hands, Sam. If we all stand down, Tyler is never coming back.”

“Let me tell you what I do know. If we don’t stop he’s dead. If we do stand down, he might have a chance.”

“You don’t really believe that,” said Sean.

“Don’t tell me what I believe or don’t believe,” barked Wingo. “I am not going to let you give my son a death sentence.”

She said, “You already have, Sam, by doing what you’re doing.”

“We have leads,” added Sean. “Good ones. We’re getting closer.”

“You can say whatever you want to say. I have to think of my son.”

“And you don’t think we are?” said Sean. “The only reason we took this case was because of your son.”

Wingo glanced down for a moment. “Look, I’m not blaming you, okay? I know you’re trying to help. It’s just that I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.”

Michelle said, “Well, you made that situation. Not us. And certainly not Tyler. It was your choice to take this mission.”

Wingo’s features hardened. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve regretted that decision from the instant I made it.”

Sean sat on the edge of the bed. “So the answer is to just sit here and wait and hope these people who have already killed will let your son free? Is that your strategy?”

Wingo sat down heavily in a chair against the wall, but kept his gun on them.

“What choice do I really have?”

“What say we turn the tables on them.”

“How?”

“We’re sure Alan Grant is connected to this.”

“Okay, how does that help?”

“He has a family too.”

“So?”

Sean stared at him. “You’ve been pushed against the wall. You have no other way out. You’re a desperate man.”

“I’m not following you.”

“He’s threatened to kill your son.”

“Yeah he has,” snapped Wingo. “But what do I do about it?”

Sean said, “I’m tired of always reacting to these assholes. Let’s go on the offensive.”

“How?” asked Michelle.

Sean said, “Sam can threaten to kill Grant’s family.”

Michelle froze. Wingo looked confused.

“He’ll never believe that I would do that.”

“Are you desperate?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Even if I were inclined, how would I communicate with him?”

Sean pointed to Wingo’s phone. “With that.”

Michelle said, “Sean, we’re not harming Grant’s kids.”

“Of course not. I said threaten. That’s all.”