Andrew Britton - The Assassin

“And I do. Unfortunately, my regular driver is out sick, and Talbot here isn’t cleared for it, so it’ll just have to wait.” He glanced over and said, “Sorry, Jake.”

“No problem, sir,” the driver said as he merged onto the airport access road.

“I can tell you this,” Harper continued. “I placed a call to Fichtner right after we talked this morning. He sent some of his people out to the Austrian’s residence, and believe it or not, they got something out of his Mercedes. Papers terminating a lease in Canada.”

Kealey sat up in his seat. “What kind of lease?”

“A lease to a storage facility. A ground-level unit in Montreal.” Harper hesitated. “A large one.”

Kealey frowned, his mind racing. “Why would he leave that in the car?”

“Well, if you were right about Vanderveen being there, he was the last person to see Ruhmann alive. Maybe they had a legitimate meeting before Vanderveen shot him. Whatever the reason, I think we have to consider the possibility that he’s collecting something in Canada.”

“Well, we can stop that from happening, right?” Naomi asked. “All we have to do is get word to the Canadian government.”

“It’s not that simple,” Harper said. “I’m prepared to take you at your word, Ryan, but you can’t expect others to do the same. We have no real proof that Vanderveen was in Berlin, so we can’t prove he killed Ruhmann. Remember, it’s a well-known fact in intelligence circles that he was being protected by the German government. The Canadians won’t get involved unless they absolutely have to. The request is going through State as we speak, but I’m not hopeful.”

“What about our own people? We can have them talk to whoever owns the facility. Give the owner whatever he wants. Money for information. Then we set up surveillance and wait for Vanderveen to show.”

“Already done. Unfortunately, the owner is out of the country, and the security cameras only cover the entrance. We already got hold of them.”

“And?”

Harper shrugged as the Suburban swung onto MacArthur Boulevard. “The tape isn’t very clear. Our people showed the guards a photo of Vanderveen, and they didn’t recognize the face. Of course, he wouldn’t look the same anyway, so that doesn’t mean much.”

“Why are they wasting time with photographs?” Kealey demanded. “We need to get inside that unit and see what’s there.”

“Not possible. Besides, it wouldn’t help. If Vanderveen already picked up the cargo, going in now won’t make a difference, and if he’s on the way, our people will pick him up when he arrives. Believe me, it’s covered to the best of our ability.”

The younger man leaned back in his seat. He was frustrated, but he couldn’t find fault with what Harper had said. He looked over to see that Naomi was just as troubled as he was.

The Suburban slowed to a halt. Kealey looked out the window and frowned; it took him several seconds to figure out where they were. The vehicle was parked outside Jonathan Harper’s brownstone on General’s Row.

Harper turned in his seat, anticipating the younger man’s objections. “Julie’s been cooking all day, so don’t even think about saying no.” He looked at Naomi. “Kharmai, you’re more than welcome to stay. In fact, I’d prefer it if you did… We have plenty of spare bedrooms. I need to bring you both up to speed, but if you like, Jake can run you into the city, and I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”

She was surprised at this turn of events, but she shook it off quickly. “I’d like to hear it tonight, sir, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

WASHINGTON, D.C.

The sky was pitch black, the rain drifting down as they stepped out of the vehicle. The driver retrieved their bags from the back, and Kealey hung back to help as Naomi hurried up the steps. Julie Harper, a short, slightly overweight woman with a warm smile and a pleasant nature, met them at the door. She kissed her husband perfunctorily and pulled Kealey into the warm, brightly lit foyer, brushing the cold drops from his sleeves. She looked up at him and placed a hand on his cheek.

“How are you, Ryan?” Her voice was soft and tinged with sympathy. “It’s been so long.”

“I’m fine, Julie. It’s good to see you again.”

Watching this scene unfold, Naomi realized that they hadn’t seen each other in a while, maybe not since Ryan’s full-time return to the Agency. Clearly, they knew each other well, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Katie Donovan had ever visited the Harper home. The thought gave her a jealous ache, although the feeling was quickly replaced by a wave of guilt.

She stood by awkwardly until Harper introduced her. She tried for a pleasant smile, even though she was completely exhausted and not feeling very sociable. The other woman shook hands with her warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Naomi. Here, let me take your coat.” Julie Harper glanced at her husband as she hung it on a rack near the door. “I assume you all have things to discuss.”

“We do, but it can wait until after dinner.”

Julie brightened. “Good. It’ll be ready in half an hour. You’ll have to excuse me.”

She hustled back to the kitchen, and Harper nodded toward the stairs, reaching for Naomi’s large case. “I’ll show you upstairs. If you like, you can get cleaned up before we eat.”

Kealey could not disguise his impatience. “John, I appreciate this, but we have a lot to go over. Now is not the time for-”

“Hold that thought.” Harper looked to Naomi and said, “Could you give us a minute? We’ll follow you up.”

“Of course, sir.” She walked up the stairs, and Harper turned back to Kealey, his face set in a firm expression.

“Ryan, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for days on end. As it stands, all the bases are covered.”

“I realize that, but-”

“Are you personally going to drive up to Canada? Are you personally going to check every vehicle coming through every border crossing?” Harper let the rhetorical question sink in, then said, “Stressing yourself now is counterproductive. We have all night to figure out our next move, so right now, go upstairs and clean yourself up. We’ll get down to business after we eat. Okay?”

Kealey couldn’t do much but nod tightly. Everything the other man had just said made perfect sense, and he wasn’t in a position to argue. “Fine.”

They presented themselves at the table twenty minutes later. Both had taken the time to shower and change, Kealey into a gray University of Chicago sweatshirt, Kharmai into a white woolen turtleneck. They were both in jeans. Despite the similarity of their outfits, Naomi felt distinctly underdressed. She knew it was probably just psychosomatic — the effect of being in her employer’s home for the first time — but knowing didn’t alleviate her sense of unease. The feeling didn’t subside until Harper came down in similar attire, having exchanged his suit for khakis and a black crewneck sweater. He poured the wine as Julie emerged from the kitchen. Once everything was laid out on the table, she started to fill their plates.

The meal was simple but excellent: vegetable soup to start, followed by linguine with red sauce, sauteed shrimp, Italian bread, and salad on the side. Julie made an obvious effort to promote conversation, but watching her, Naomi realized that the talk was only a cover for the concerned, motherly glances she kept shooting in Ryan’s direction. When the meal was done, she pushed back from her seat and offered to help clear the dishes, hoping to get Julie alone for a private discussion, but Harper waved it away.

“We have some things to talk about upstairs. Sorry to eat and run.”