Brad Thor - The Athena Project

Pence motioned for him to relax. “I almost didn’t pick up on them either. These guys are good; real good.”

“So, this operation against the airport is much bigger than we thought.”

“That’s what it looks like.”

Ben leaned forward. “Dean, we’ve got to go back to Mumford right now. We’ve got to tell her what we’ve learned.”

“Already done,” said Pence.

“What?”

“I already spoke with her.”

“Without talking to me first? Are you nuts?” demanded Ben. “We haven’t even gotten our stories straight yet.”

“Well, we’re going to get them straight now,” replied Pence.

“How much did you tell her?”

“What am I, new? How much do you think I told her?”

Ben massaged his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Shit,” he said. “It’s all over, isn’t it?”

“Like hell it is,” replied Pence. “I’m not about to sink one of the biggest espionage cases of the decade. I told you, this is going to make our careers, not end them.”

“So, you lied to Mumford is what you’re telling me.”

“I don’t like the word lie.”

Matthews chuckled.

“I was selective with the truth,” said Pence. “Listen, I told her what she wanted to hear. You know how she is. This is all about her career. Now that she realizes what she stands to gain from all of this, she’s behind it.”

“Now you’re lying to me. There’s no way you could have explained this to her in such a way that she would have completely gone along with it. No way.”

Pence nodded. “There’s going to be some disciplinary action, yes, but-”

Ben leaned back in the restaurant booth. “Now the truth comes out.”

“But we’re still on the case. She’s allocating extra resources now and everything. We can have anything we need.”

“Including our choice of lethal injection or firing squad.”

“You’re speaking metaphorically, I hope,” said Pence.

Matthews reached for his coffee. “I’m speaking about our careers, Dean. We’re done.”

“Ben, we’re not done. Our careers are more than intact. Stop worrying. As far as anyone is concerned, we haven’t broken any laws. Mumford doesn’t know anything about the warrantless eavesdropping.”

“How about me falsifying my employment application to TSA?”

Pence sucked some air in between his teeth and nodded. “Yeah, she knows about that.”

Ben threw his hands up in the air. “Fabulous. Did you take responsibility for anything?”

“Actually, I did. I told her that this was my idea and that I put the entire thing together. And that whatever you had done, you did because I told you it was the right thing to do.

“Then I explained that while we might have bent a few regulations here and there-”

“Dean, we did more than bend a few regulations.”

“She doesn’t know that,” said Pence, “and she’s not going to. I copped to the stuff that we couldn’t cover up. The rest of it never happened.”

“So what’s our story?”

“If you give me five minutes, I’ll explain.”

They actually spent the next forty-five minutes discussing what Pence had told their boss and how the SAC had decided she wanted them to proceed.

When Pence was through, he looked at Ben and said, “So you’re supposed to assume that you’re under complete surveillance, got it?”

Ben nodded. “I understand.”

“That means you don’t stop by the office, you don’t call in, you don’t email. You’re to remain completely in character; completely undercover. Okay?”

“I got it, Dean. I know what not breaking cover means.”

Pence held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You’ve helped plenty.”

The elder FBI man looked at his partner. “We did the right thing, you know.”

“No we didn’t, Dean. We’re the good guys. We’re supposed to play by the rules.”

Pence shrugged. “Fine. Beat yourself up all you want. I’m glad we’re going to stick it to those Russian bastards.”

Ben looked at him. “If we’re going to stick it to them; if we’re going to load Suffolk’s listening devices up with phony conversations and data, why do I have to even bother with this charade? Who cares how deep I go into the bowels of that airport? Why can’t I just sit my ass in the TSA’s crappy little break room and lie to her?”

Dean Pence returned his partner’s gaze. “Because you’re not exactly a good liar. That’s why.”

“What are you talking about?”

The elder FBI agent took a deep breath. “I know you’ve been sleeping with her, Ben.”

His immediate instinct was to deny the accusation, but Matthews was tired of lying. Instead, he remained silent.

“You’re not the first guy in the Bureau to have slept with a foreign intelligence agent, so don’t feel bad.”

“I don’t.”

This time, it was Pence who chuckled. “It’s written all over your face, Ben. You’re a good man, and good men make lousy liars. Listen, Mumford doesn’t want to risk tipping Suffolk off. For all we know, she’s got a way of monitoring the movement of the devices. Suffolk needs to believe, without the slightest hint of doubt, that you did what she asked. It’s the only way she and the Russians will believe the information that we’ll plant on those phones.”

“And who’s going to do that?”

Pence shrugged. “NSA? CIA? I have no idea. All I know is that this’ll be over soon and we can lock that crazy chick up and all will be well with the world.”

As the waitress came by and topped off their coffee, Ben Matthews hoped his partner was right, but the same voice that told him he never should have slept with Victoria Suffolk was now telling him that he was in a lot more danger than he possibly could have realized.

Ben exited the tiny canyon coffee shop and walked across the parking lot. Most of the vehicles were the same ones that had been there when he had pulled in.

Trying not to appear obvious, Ben observed his surroundings. Even though Pence told him he hadn’t been followed to their meeting, his situational awareness had kicked into overdrive.

Before hopping into his truck, he took once last glance around the lot. If Vicki Suffolk or another operative working with her was out there, he couldn’t tell. But even if someone had been watching him, he’d already taken the precaution of explaining away his meeting with Pence in advance.

He’d told Suffolk he was getting together with a biking colleague who was hoping to recruit Ben to his racing team for next year. There was nothing clandestine or unusual about having coffee.

He powered up his truck’s big diesel engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and navigated his way out onto the highway.

Settling into the middle lane, Ben set the cruise control and studied the cars around him. Somewhat satisfied that he wasn’t being followed, he allowed himself to relax a little.

The movies made undercover life seem glamorous, but it was anything but. It was stressful, and now that he knew he was being watched it was even more stressful. He’d have to be on his guard and keep his wits about him 24/7. He couldn’t trust anyone. The only unguarded moments Ben Matthews was going to get were moments like these when he was alone in his truck.

After making sure his iPod was connected, he turned the stereo on. Gripping the steering wheel, he was hoping to forget who he was and what he had done for a little while. He didn’t want to be an FBI agent who had betrayed his ethical and professional codes of conduct; he didn’t want to be an adult screw-up. He just wanted to be an American killing a few hours before his shift started like everybody else.