Greg Rucka - A gentleman_s game

"Still doing his penance," Poole confirmed. "I just finished with mine. The next time the Deputy Chief wants to punish us, sir, perhaps you could ask him to let us clean the toilets. Be marginally more exciting than spending two days helping Records move dead files from one end of the building to the other."

"I'll be sure to pass it along."

"We'd appreciate it, sir." Poole scratched at his chin, then asked, "You don't think Cairo's going to grab her, do you?"

"Doubtful. If she did el-Sayd yesterday, she's well out of the country, probably back in Israel. Until that's confirmed, I won't order Tel Aviv to move. I'm not ordering any Station to move until Simon comes in here and gives me a reason to."

Poole thought about that, knitting his brow. "D-Int's in our corner, then?"

"Was there something you wanted, Nicky?" Crocker asked, annoyed. "Or is this simply a social call?"

"Lankford and I were wondering if, perhaps, there's a Special Operation in the offing, that's all."

"Were you?"

"Thinking maybe someplace like, I don't know, Jordan?" Poole's smile was hopeful, friendly. "And if we had to pass through Tel Aviv, well, maybe we could give someone a hand, if they needed it."

Crocker almost smiled. Almost.

"Not at the moment."

"Well, maybe one will come up," Poole suggested.

Crocker shook his head.

Poole sighed, rose from the chair.

Before he reached the door, Crocker said, "We'll get her back."

Poole gave him a smile. "Oh, yes, sir. Never doubted that for a moment."

He left Crocker to wonder if he'd been lying. • At twelve past eight that evening his intercom went off again, and it surprised the hell out of him, because he thought Kate had left for the day.

"Angela Cheng is coming up from Reception."

"Why are you still here?"

"Wanted to see if you needed anything."

"You, rested. Go home."

"What about Cheng?"

"Send her in as soon as she arrives, then go home."

"I obey, master."

Crocker glared at the intercom, then got up, pulling on his jacket. He moved around the desk, paced, thinking. Cheng had been dodging him-and he was sure that was what it was, dodging-for the last five days, ever since they'd met for lunch and she'd returned to her office at Grosvenor Square. Five days, more than enough time for Crocker to go over everything that had happened and question the motives of everyone involved. Some of them were transparent, nothing more than they had appeared at the outset-Kinney's, C's, Weldon's.

But Cheng, he had realized, was playing him.

It had been a nagging suspicion since his meeting with C the previous Friday, three days earlier, and it had continued to dog him over the weekend, even as he was scuttling around the house, trying to catch up on the legion of chores his wife had left to his care. It was just possible that Cheng had given him the warning about Chace out of altruism, that everything she had said about her concern for the Special Section was true.

But it was far more likely that Cheng was pursuing an agenda of her own.

That, in and of itself, wasn't nearly as upsetting as it was annoying. They both had their loyalties, and they both understood completely that working together-as they did most of the time-was done for expedience and mutual gain. But there were always going to be times when the gains at stake weren't mutual and would require one using, distracting, abusing, or bypassing the other. Never with malice, and rarely with glee, but it happened, and it was one of the reasons why, as much as Paul Crocker respected Angela Cheng, as much as he actually liked her as a person, their friendship would always be a limited one.

What bothered Crocker now was that he still couldn't see why he was being played, and he wasn't entirely certain how. He'd been working the puzzle for three days now, harder and harder, and there was no answer, and he suspected that was because he was missing a piece.

He'd be damned if Cheng was going to leave his office without giving it to him. • "Paul, sorry I've been so hard to reach." Cheng grinned at him, slipping off her raincoat, then looking back to Kate as she closed the door to the outer office. When it was shut, she turned to Crocker, adding, "Been dancing on my Ambassador's strings."

"Better than dancing with your Ambassador. He's a happily married man."

"There's no such thing as a happily married man."

"Spoken like a confirmed bachelorette."

"You're not a man, Paul, you're a machine." Cheng dropped into the nearest chair, smoothing her skirt, and her grin blossomed into a smile. "I hear our two tips paid off for you boys big-time today."

"Iraq and Cairo, you mean?"

"No, Arsenal and Aston Villa. Yes, Iraq and Cairo."

"Marginal payoffs," Crocker said. "We weren't able to take them alive."

"Then you're just too slow. We caught two ourselves, both in Baghdad, and the Israelis caught another trying to get in through Gaza."

"Five for five, Angela?"

"When the network works, it works well."

She continued to smile at him, and suddenly Crocker could see through it, and he wanted to kick himself for taking so long to do so.

He turned to his desk, smiling in return, and said, "If you have anything more along those lines, Simon would love to hear it."

"Oh, I think we've done our part." Cheng grinned at the joke, then shifted in her chair, uncrossing her ankles and leaning forward, and Crocker watched the mirth give way to concern, and he almost believed it. "Any word on Chace?"

"She was in Cairo yesterday, funnily enough," Crocker said.

"Cairo? Strange place to go if you're trying to lie low."

"She wasn't trying to lie low, she was trying to kill Muhriz el-Sayd."

Crocker thought she did a good job of acting surprised, almost as good as her job of trying to pump him for information.

"Jesus fucking Christ, she didn't?"

"Hadn't you heard?"

"Do I look to you like I had?"

Crocker chuckled. "Egyptian authorities are claiming he was killed while resisting arrest. But since Chace was in Tel Aviv with Wallace as of the eighteenth, I think it's more likely she did the job. I haven't asked Landau yet. I suppose I can wait until I hear from Chace herself."

A flicker crossed Cheng's face, and Crocker saw it, and saw they were getting close now.

"Chace has got Wallace with her?"

"She was in Egypt alone, as far as we know. Not sure where Wallace is now, but they're certainly working together."

"You're in touch with her?"

"I wouldn't confirm that even if I could, Angela, you know that. I've declared her AWOL, we're doing everything in our power to bring her in."

"Liar."

"Professional, too."

"You know what she's doing? What she and Wallace are planning?"

Crocker shrugged.

"What're they planning, Paul?"

"I suppose you'll find out, along with the rest of us."

And then Crocker smiled at her, to let her know that they were once again on the same playing field. He might not have figured out exactly the how and the why, but he was certain enough, just as he was now certain he held information Cheng wanted.

How badly she wanted it was the next question.

Cheng's expression went to neutral and she sat back, inhaling through her nose, looking away from him to the blank walls of the office. Crocker thought that she was asking herself the same question.

"Can you get a message to her?" Cheng asked after a moment.

Crocker didn't answer, waited.

Cheng waited, too.

He won.

"They run at the camp, it's suicide, Paul. Please tell me they're not going to try to take the camp by themselves."

"All right, they're not going to try to take the camp by themselves."

"Dammit, Paul!"

"Why do you care if they want to fall on their swords, Angela?"