Andrew Britton - The American

“Louis Jackson. Pleased to meet you, gentlemen.” Jackson was a heavily built black man who looked to be just shy of fifty. His bald head gleamed in the low light of the watch center. Despite his age, Jackson’s strength was clearly visible beneath the immaculately pressed uniform that he wore. Ryan didn’t need to see it to know it, though; his hand was still stinging from the man’s powerful grip.

“You boys carry a lot of sway,” Jackson said in a low rumble. “I got a call this morning from Harper over at Langley, as well as Nance at DEA. Both of ’em told me they’d have my balls in a vice if I didn’t get you access to Elgin.”

North gave a friendly chuckle. “We’re not trying to cause you any inconvenience, sir. Believe me, if we had it our way, we wouldn’t have to talk to this piece of shit again.”

Jackson laughed as well. “Yeah, he is a piece of shit, all right.” The watch commander quickly turned serious again. “All the same, he’s a high-profile prisoner under my roof, and the man’s counsel could make trouble for me. The lawyer is even more annoying than Elgin, but she knows her business.”

“She?” Kealey asked with obvious surprise. Why the hell would a woman want to represent Elgin? “Who’s the lawyer?”

“Her name is Alex Harris,” Jackson said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with her. She runs her own little firm in Richmond, and her track record is pretty damn good. Tell you the truth, I’m amazed that Elgin was smart enough to hire her.”

He held out his right hand and punched a warning finger in their direction. “Anyway, the point is this: I’m happy to accommodate you, but if Harris decides to bring down heat on my command because you two fucked up somehow, then my attitude’s gonna change real quick. Just so we’re clear.”

North and Kealey nodded contritely, and Jackson waved over a deputy standing by the door. “This is Matthews. He’s gonna show you boys the room we’ve set aside for this little venture. He’ll wait outside while you talk with the prisoner.”

Ryan didn’t want the guard, but he sensed that Jackson’s cooperation was sketchy at best. More to the point, the watch commander looked like he wouldn’t mind dismissing orders from a higher authority. Kealey didn’t want to push his luck.

He saw that North shared his apprehension, and shot him a restraining look. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Let’s get this over with.”

As they walked several steps behind the guard, Ryan saw lingering concern in the DEA agent’s face. “I know,” he said, leaning in to speak in a low whisper, “it’s not ideal. Get the lawyer out of there, Adam.”

“What do you mean, ‘Get the lawyer out of there’? Where the hell am I gonna-”

“Just get her out of there. As soon as you can.”

They stopped at an unmarked door with a Plexiglas window tucked neatly into the gray steel. Matthews turned to face them. “Okay, gentlemen, I was told-”

“Hold that thought, Matthews. I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. You guys want one?” Ryan asked.

North shook his head, discreetly shooting him another questioning look. Matthews nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Right back.” Ryan moved off down the hall as North pushed his way into the interrogation room and Matthews took up station outside the door.

“I still don’t understand why this meeting is necessary,” Alex Harris said. She was glaring angrily at North while Thomas Elgin slouched in his chair, fingers interlaced with his hands resting on his paunch. He made no attempt to hide the smirk plastered on his face.

Adam ignored the prisoner, choosing instead to focus his attention on Harris. She was a stunningly attractive woman who tried very hard to play down her looks. Her efforts were largely unsuccessful; her figure was draped in a formless gray business suit that ended in a long skirt, but shapely calves hinted at what lay beneath the uninspiring attire. Her glossy auburn hair was tied back haphazardly, and she wore heavy glasses that kept slipping down her long nose. The thick lenses could not hide her bright blue eyes, though, or the anger that they currently contained.

“What are you staring at?”

A small grin played over his face. “Nothing.”

“I’m sure you’ve already been made aware of this, Agent North, but my client has offered his statement to the Attorney General, and that offer was declined. So unless-”

“Did you really expect the A.G. to grant immunity for a statement that may or may not lead to additional arrests?” North asked her. The amiable smile was gone, replaced by a level stare that reduced most people to silence. He was surprised when it failed to faze the experienced trial lawyer. “I mean, let’s not forget that part. It wasn’t a free offer. In our opinion, your client is seriously jeopardizing any chance of cutting a deal by withholding information.”

“Hey, buddy-”

“Shut up, Thomas.” Harris held out a warning finger and managed to cut her client off before he got started. She met North’s penetrating stare, but it was several moments before either of them spoke.

It was Adam North who finally broke the silence. “Could we speak in private, Ms. Harris?”

She shook her head violently, several strands of hair coming loose and drifting around her face in the process. “My client has the right to hear anything you have to say.”

He stood abruptly and started toward the door. “Then it looks like I’ll just have to report to the A.G. that your ‘client’ has once again failed to cooperate with this investigation. If you’re pushing for a deal, lady, you’re gonna be pushing for a long time.”

He had the door halfway open before she called out. “Hold on, Agent North.”

A moment later she was following him out of the room, closing the door emphatically behind her. She turned to the guard standing by the entrance.

“I don’t want anybody coming in or out of this room until I return. Is that understood?”

“I got it, ma’am… No one in or out.”

Satisfied with that response, Alex Harris stalked toward the visitors’ lounge with Adam North following reluctantly behind.

It took nearly five minutes of wandering around, but Ryan finally found what he was looking for.

The registration desk was built in a large semicircle with an elevated counter facing out toward the lobby, much like the reception area in a hotel lobby. Four computers sat behind it, as did a number of telephones. An open doorway could be seen beyond all of this equipment, but the person manning the desk was nowhere in sight.

He leaned over the counter and studied one of the phones, taking the time to scan the handwritten markings beside each button. When he found the right one, he looked up at the fire plan posted on the wall. The faded paper provided a vague description of the facility’s layout. Ryan pressed the button and lifted the receiver as the intercom crackled to life.

“Deputy Matthews, please report to Processing. Deputy Matthews to Processing.”

Matthews looked up and frowned as the message was snapped out over the public address system. Damn… Processing was on the other side of the building, and he didn’t have the keys to the interrogation room. At the same time, he couldn’t afford to slip up with the watch commander. Jackson had already cut him down three weeks earlier for what he had done, or rather, for what he had not done in breaking up a fight in the housing unit that left one man slightly wounded and another in critical condition.

He weighed his options carefully. He knew that the big man was with the lawyer, and Elgin wasn’t going anywhere in leg irons. Jackson had instructed him to remain outside the door, and countermanding one of the lieutenant’s orders was usually grounds for termination.