Greg Rucka - A gentleman_s game

"Because I don't want to see you lose more people. Maybe you haven't noticed, but your Special Operations capability has taken a hit two or three times in the last couple of years. I'd like to see you stay in the game."

"So it's concern, is that it?"

"Self-motivated concern, yes."

"That's why you showed me the pictures of the camp, told me why Box was closing in on Chace? So I'd warn her, so she could go to ground until this whole thing blows over?"

"Yes."

"Bullshit."

Cheng raised an eyebrow at him. "What'd you say?"

"Bullshit, that's the word, isn't it? Or is that too American coming from me, would you have preferred I said 'utter twaddle'?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that the Company has a man inside HUM-AA, in the Wadi-as-Sirhan. That's where your intel's coming from, why you're suddenly coming up with gold after offering nothing but lead for the last several months. That's why you tipped me to Box's intentions, so I'd spark Chace to run. And if Chace runs, she can't be handed to the Saudis; if she isn't handed to the Saudis, the camp-and your mole-stay secure. That's what I'm talking about, Angela."

She stared at him, and Crocker took the opportunity to light a cigarette and, for the first time in quite a while, actually enjoy it, rather than simply feed his addiction.

"Christ, Paul," Cheng said finally. "You have any idea how long it's taken us to get someone in position? How hard it's been to get someone that deep, someone who has access and isn't doubling back on us?"

"It's one man?"

Cheng shook her head, saying, "No, I'm not giving that up."

"Chace and Wallace are going to destroy that camp."

"Then you've got to stop them."

"Why in the name of hell should I?"

"We'll lose our man!"

"I don't give a damn about your man," Crocker snarled. "I don't give a damn about your network. There were five separate bombing attempts today, all of them originating from that camp presumably."

"Five attempts! Attempts, Paul, that were stopped because we knew they were coming."

"Five attempts that could have been prevented altogether if the camp was shut down. The bomb that went off in Cairo killed three, injured fourteen, and four of those aren't likely to make it."

"But it didn't hit the Embassy."

"Which should make the Americans there sleep better tonight, but seven families are going to be mourning-no, wait, eight-because the damn thing went off anyway."

"Better that than the alternative."

"And is that alternative better than what happened on the Underground, Angela?" Crocker demanded, furious. "Your man inside, he didn't see that coming? Or was it that the CIA didn't think it was worth passing along the intelligence?"

Cheng's reaction was an honest hurt, mixing with disbelief. "We didn't know! Jesus Christ, do you really think we'd have sat on it if we had known it was coming?"

"How the hell did your man miss it, then? If he's as good as all that, how is it that he didn't see it coming?"

"He tried, he told us he tried. We're having a nightmare time running messages with this guy, he's in deep, and he's constantly being watched. There's only so many opportunities he gets to pass along information, and he couldn't warn us-or you-in time!"

"Sounds to me like he's picking and choosing."

"Name me an agent who doesn't, damn you! But it's better than nothing."

"Three hundred and seventy-two dead men and women would argue that point if they could."

Cheng shook her head. "All Chace has to do is lie low, it'll blow over-"

"Are you daft? This doesn't blow over, ever! Even if the Saudis relent, even if the Government decides not to hand her over, she's still buggered. Unless she shuts down the camp, she's an agent who went AWOL, who went rogue, and I'll still have lost my best officer. You put this in motion, Angela, and if you can't control it now, that's your lookout, not mine. I'm getting Chace back, right where she belongs, at the Head of Section, and the way to do that is to remove the Saudis from the equation."

"There's a friendly there, she could end up killing our guy."

"Then you had better signal your guy to get the hell out."

"We can't-aren't you hearing what I'm saying? He contacts us, not the other way around, he's in the middle of the fucking Wadi-as-Sirhan, Paul! There's only so much we can do."

"You didn't give him a microburst transmitter, a receiver? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Cheng looked, for a moment, almost pathetically defeated. "We did. It stopped working three months ago."

"Oh, fucking brilliant. Fucking brilliant, why hasn't he been resupplied?"

"Well, maybe you could ask Chace to do it," Cheng shot back, "provided she doesn't kill him first."

"I'll take it under advisement."

"This guy is worth gold to us, you've seen it. You do this, it's all down the toilet."

"So you're screwed?"

"That's what I'm telling you."

"I'm sure Chace knows just how you feel."

Cheng fumed at him, then ran a hand through her hair, thinking.

"I could get onto Langley," she said. "Langley gets onto the White House, the White House jumps all over the Israelis, Chace and Wallace, they don't go anywhere."

"No, you can't," Crocker said. "It would require the White House to do a complete volte-face, and for what? A single agent? They want that camp shut down, Angela. At best, they apprehend Chace and hand her to the Saudis, you've still got the same problem."

"You son of a bitch," Cheng said.

"Because I figured it out?" Crocker crushed his cigarette into the bottom of the ashtray. "Because I tried to protect my people? Because you lied to me?"

"I didn't have a choice, don't make it personal."

Crocker laughed. "It's not personal, Angela. It's never been personal, however many gifts you give my daughters for their birthdays."

She exhaled sharply, then fell back, resting in the chair.

"When are they going in?" Cheng asked. "Do you know?"

"No."

"No you don't know, or no you won't say?"

"I don't know. They may be in already, they may go tomorrow, they may never go."

"Fuck."

"If you say so."

"Can you at least get a message to them, can you try to do that? Just let them know there's a friendly, let them know he won't fire on them, that's how he'll identify himself, he'll be unarmed."

"What do I get in exchange?"

Cheng looked sincerely incredulous. "You really are a son of a bitch."

"What are you offering?"

Cheng's chin dropped onto her chest, mouth tightening, thinking.

"You want her back in the Pit when all this is over," she said finally. "Langley will push it, we'll smooth any of the feathers that get ruffled."

"No," Crocker said. "Not good enough."

"Jesus Christ, Paul, what do you want?"

"I want it in writing that Chace undertook the covert at the request of CIA London."

Crocker had never seen her look stunned before.

"No way."

"The only way," Crocker said. "It's her job insurance. And mine, for that matter. You come on the chopping block with us, you'll have a vested interest in seeing the blade doesn't fall on any of our necks."

Cheng scowled, then leaned forward, grabbing one of the pens resting on Crocker's desk. He reached into the second drawer on his left, pulled out a pad of paper, handed it to her, then sat back with another cigarette, watching while she wrote. It took her the entirety of his smoke, and when she was finished, she tossed the pen down on the desk and nearly threw the pad at him as well.

Crocker read it over carefully. "You're exonerating the Agency."

"I'm not going to give you a document that could end up with a congressional inquiry, Paul, I don't care how big the pistol is that you hold to my head. I'm taking responsibility for it, that's enough. You, me, Chace, all in it together. Happy now?"