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Stuart Woods: Iron Orchid

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Stuart Woods Iron Orchid

Iron Orchid: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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From Publishers Weekly Having ditched her Orchid Beach, Fla., police chief post, returning supersleuth Holly Barker opts for a CIA career in Woods's by-the-numbers thriller, the fourth in the Barker series (Blood Orchid). Barely through basic training at a highly regimented CIA "training farm," Barker's class is suddenly enlisted to track down calculating killer (and opera buff) Teddy Fay (first seen in Woods's Capital Crimes). An ex-CIA agent himself, Fay uses insider information to continue assassinating international political figures who also happen to be enemies of the U.S. Barker stakes out the Metropolitan Opera House, and narrowly misses Teddy in disguise in several contrived set pieces. The narrative accelerates from a somewhat sluggish first half when CIA operatives' solid deliberation moves Barker ever closer to nabbing the elusive Fay-who, by the way, lives mere blocks away from her. But Fay dupes the CIA again, with the help of a Santa Claus costume, and assassinates a Saudi prince before vanishing. Woods's latest lacks the urgent plotting and bracing thrills needed to make it truly memorable, and though Barker is a tough, formidable protagonist, the question remains why she, after absconding with over $5.5 million in untraceable drug money, bothers to clock in at all. Only Barker's dog, Daisy the Doberman, knows for sure.

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Bob opened the folder. “You lied on your polygraph,” he said.

“No,” Holly replied evenly. “I did not.”

“The examination you have just taken is the most sensitive and reliable in the world. Nobody beats it; certainly not you.”

“I didn’t lie on the examination.”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to come clean, and this is the only opportunity you will have to do so and explain yourself.”

“I have nothing to come clean about,” Holly replied.

“That’s a lie.”

“Tell me what, exactly, you think I’m lying about.”

“You know, exactly, what you lied about.”

“No, I don’t. I am baffled by your accusation.”

“Tell us right now, or you’re out of here.”

“Well, I guess I’m out of here,” Holly said, standing up.

“Sit down.”

ON THE OTHER side of the glass, Lance Cabot sat with the more senior polygraph examiner, watching Holly’s responses. “I believe her,” he said.

“She lied,” the examiner said.

“How certain are you?”

“She said no, and I got a reaction that indicated a lie.”

“How big a reaction?”

“A small one, admittedly, but in my professional judgment, she lied.”

HOLLY HAD INTERROGATED many prisoners during her careers as a military and civilian police officer, and she was determined to stand her ground.

“Not only did you lie on your polygraph,” the man said, “but you have now made yourself liable for criminal charges.”

“You, sir,” Holly replied, “are full of shit.”

The man slammed his fist down on the table top. “Liar!” he shouted. “Do you think we want liars in the CIA?”

The other man, who was older and grayer, spoke up. “Bob, why don’t you go get a cup of coffee and let Holly and me chat for a minute?”

Bob stalked out of the room without a word.

The other man gave Holly a rueful grin. “I’m sorry about that, Holly,” he said. “Bob is pretty intense about his work, and he sometimes gets a little too excited. My name is Dan, and I want to help you straighten this out, if I can.” His tone was fatherly and reassuring.

Ah, the good cop, Holly thought. “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can,” she said, trying to sound conciliatory.

“That’s great, Holly,” Dan said, “because we don’t want this conversation to be an impediment to your career.” He tapped the thick folder on the desk. “I’ve read your service record, and it’s a very fine one. Of course, your CO. put some stuff in there after he was acquitted at his court-martial, but that’s easy to see through. It’s clear to me that you were telling the truth, and he was lying.”

“Thank you,” Holly said, and she meant it. The words made her feel good inside, but she knew that made her vulnerable to what Dan was trying to do.

“Now, why don’t you tell me about your questionable answers on your polygraph,” he said, “and I’ll do whatever I can to fix this.”

“Dan,” Holly said, “I’d like to help, but I just don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. I gave truthful answers to all the questions I was asked. Now, it might help if you told me what you think I lied about.”

“First of all, Holly, I believe you. I don’t think you lied. You seem like an honest person to me. However, Bob is very good at what he does, and he is convinced that you lied.”

“Well, why don’t you get him in here with his record, and let’s go over the answer he’s concerned about.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how we do things here.”

“Well, Dan, I have to tell you that I don’t think very much of how you do things here. Not so far, anyway.”

“Holly, I think we’re both trying to straighten this out, but I have to stick to procedures.”

“Is your procedure to accuse me of lying with no evidence of what you think I’m lying about?”

“Of course not. We just have to be very careful here. We don’t want this thing to rise up and bite us on the ass, or you either, a few years down the road.”

“Well, Dan, in that case, I think you should either reexamine me or launch a full-scale investigation into what you consider my lie.”

“I’m trying to avoid those alternatives,” Dan said.

“Well, you’re not trying hard enough,” Holly replied.

BEHIND THE GLASS, Lance was chuckling to himself. “Are you sure you want to go up against this woman?” he asked Bob.

“I still think she lied.”

“So, reexamine her. Do it now.”

“It doesn’t work that way. She knows what she lied about, so she’ll be expecting the question, and she may know enough about the polygraph to beat it.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to launch an investigation based on this blip,” Lance said. He looked over his shoulder. “Bob, get back in there and tell her what she lied about. Maybe we can elicit some sort of confession, or at least, a concession that she might not have been entirely truthful.”

“Whatever you say, Lance,” Bob replied, then left the room.

BOB WALKED back in and sat down. “I’ve got the record, here,” he said, opening a file. “You were asked if you had ever stolen anything from the Army.”

“And I replied, 'yes,'” Holly said.

“Then you were asked if you had stolen anything worth more than a thousand dollars,” Bob said.

“And I replied, 'no.'”

“That’s where the problem is, Holly.”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“What did you steal?”

“A Colt.45 pistol. Well, I didn’t exactly steal it.”

“Tell us about it.”

“After shooting on the range one day, I found a.45 that somebody had left on the bench. Rather than turn it over to the range master and get somebody in trouble, I took it with me, planning to find out to whom the gun was assigned. I put it in my safe, then I forgot about it. More than a year later, I found it in the back of the safe, and I took it to the range master and told him what had happened. He told me that he had already done some juggling with the books and reported the gun broken, unrepairable and destroyed. He told me to keep the gun, since it was off the records, so I did. I still have it somewhere.”

“How much was the gun worth?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know; that was seven or eight years ago. Right now, you could buy a new one for around nine hundred bucks on the Internet and have it shipped to a licensed dealer.”

“The army lists the value of a new Colt.45 as a thousand and fifty dollars,” Dan said. “Although I doubt that the army owns a new one these days; they switched to the Beretta years ago.

“So when you were asked if you had stolen anything worth more than a thousand dollars, you figured the gun was worth nine hundred?”

“I just thought it was worth less than a thousand. After all, it wasn’t new. But during the test, I remember wondering what the value was now. I finally decided to stick with under a thousand, but maybe my momentary indecision caused the blip.”

Bob and Dan looked at each other, and Bob shrugged. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll write an addendum to the examination, giving Holly’s explanation,” Dan said. “I don’t think we’ll hear any more about it.”

“Anything else?” Holly asked.

“No, I think that will do it,” Dan replied.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said, then shook hands with both men and left the room, looking for Daisy.

It was not until they were outside again that Holly realized she had been sweating profusely under her sweatshirt. She walked slowly to her next class, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

TEN

Teddy finished installing the Peg-Board on the walls of his workshop, and he began hanging his tools and outlining them with a Sharpie. Someday they would find this shop, though not before he wanted them to, and he wanted it to be just as well-ordered as the shop at his Virginia home, which the FBI had visited after he had abandoned it. Somehow, it was important to him to impress the FBI.

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