Джозеф Файндер - The Switch

Will Abbott picked up the line instantly. “Mr. Tanner—”

Tanner cut him off. “Yes, I don’t know if you remember me, but we met through Seth, in Boston—?”

“Tanner—”

“Hold on. I need your help. I’m being held at, uh...”

Tanner looked at Earle, who said, “The new federal detention facility right outside Waldorf.”

“At the new federal detention facility outside Waldorf, Maryland. By the National Security Agency. Now, I’m sure you’d like me to cooperate with them. But before I do, I was hoping you might be able to talk sense into our friends here. Thanks.”

He handed the phone back to Earle. “I think he wants to talk to you.”

“Is this Deputy Director Lash?” Will said. “Yes, this is Will Abbott. I’m the chief of staff to Senator— Right. Will Abbott.” Will stood up and, stretching the phone’s curly cord, he walked over to his office door and pushed it closed.

“Well,” he continued, “I don’t know what the hell your agency thinks it’s doing, but this isn’t some... Abdul Mohammed you’ve got locked up. This is a respected Boston businessman, a well-known member of my boss’s... support community. I mean, there have been articles written about this guy. Right. Michael Tanner. He’s at your detention complex near Waldorf.”

Will was trying not to sound panicked, which he was.

NSA had grabbed Tanner! Did they have the senator’s laptop too? Had Tanner told them whose laptop he’d accidentally picked up? If so, they already knew where the leak had come from. And her career was over. As was his. All Tanner had to do was answer their first question.

Tanner, who was obviously calling from a monitored line and knew it, had figured it out. He knew that Will was desperate not only to get the boss’s computer back but to keep secret whose computer it was. And to keep that compromising information secret from the NSA in particular.

So Tanner was making an unmistakable, implicit threat. If you don’t get me out of detention by the NSA, I will tell them whose computer I ended up with. And you sure as hell don’t want that.

No, Will sure as hell didn’t want that.

“This is very much an oversight matter,” Will said crisply. “You’re holding an American citizen in detention for what exactly? We find this highly troubling.”

He listened for a minute and then broke in: “And now your agency is asking for another ten billion dollars in black-box allocations? Well, the senator is going to have to take a very careful look at that. Especially if you persist in holding a noncharged US citizen in a prison cell. Do we need to get the entire committee involved in this?”

Will listened a bit longer. “Okay,” he said. “I’m glad I’m getting through to you.”

“Yes, sir, absolutely. The very next thing I do.” Earle put down the phone.

He swiveled around in his chair, which emitted a moan. “Well, Michael, I sure underestimated you. You obviously have some kinda juice in this town. I don’t know who you know, but you sure pushed the magic button. That was the deputy director. My boss. And you, my friend, you are free to go.”

Earle shook his head with what looked like disbelief.

Mr. Tanner,” Will said.

Michael Tanner emerged from the side entrance to the federal detention facility, a hulking brick windowless structure the size of a city block, built on the site of an abandoned strip mall. Tanner looked around uncertainly. The man looked wearier since Will had last seen him in Boston. He had obviously been through a lot.

Well, so had Will.

He offered his hand, and Tanner shook.

“Good to see you again,” Will said.

“Glad we could do business.”

“Me too.” Will gestured with a hand. “My car is right outside.”

The NSA had offered to convey Michael Tanner to Washington National Airport. But Tanner had apparently decided that the less time spent in the company of the NSA, the better. He’d get a ride with Will.

Will unlocked the car doors, and when Tanner got into Will’s Audi — technically Jen’s, but she never used it; she almost always took the Metro — his knees touched the dashboard. He was a much taller man than Will. He pulled back on the seat-adjustment lever to slide the seat back. Then he shut his door.

Once they’d pulled away from the curb, Will said, “Did you tell them whose laptop you have?”

“Of course not. You were my secret weapon. I wasn’t going to give it away.”

“Secret weapon? How do you figure?”

“It was a simple calculation.”

“Oh yeah?”

“The same calculation you’re making too. See, I had a lot of time to think. And I figured something out.”

“Like what?”

“The NSA doesn’t know whose laptop is missing. And you really don’t want them to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they’d learn that your boss had classified information on an unsecured laptop. And that’s probably a major no-no.”

“Huh,” Will said.

“I know I’m just a coffee guy, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to keep classified information on a regular old computer. And I’m thinking, if the NSA ever found her laptop, your boss, the senator, would be in deep doo-doo.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t want them to find the laptop. And I’m happy to be rid of it.”

“And where is it?”

“In a safe place in Boston.”

“Then we’re going to Boston.”

“We?”

“Part of the deal. You’ll notice I’ve put my trust in you that you’re going to keep your end of the bargain and give me that laptop back without any more games.”

“Then again,” Tanner said, “you did try to have me killed.”

Will stiffened, felt his body go alert: a physical sensation. He looked at the road, compressed his lips while he considered how to reply. He glanced to his right and was surprised to find Tanner smiling.

“At first I thought it was the NSA that sent the guy,” Tanner said. “But it wasn’t. By process of elimination, I figured it out. It was you.”

Will let out a breath, shook his head. “He wasn’t going to kill you or anything like that,” he said. “He was only going to put a scare into you.”

“The guy was a goddamned hit man,” Tanner said.

There was a long pause. “You think I’m some kind of ogre, because you don’t know me. I get that. What makes it so strange for me is that I know you—”

“Except you don’t.”

“I’m not even talking about the file we put together, the bio stuff. I look at you, and yeah, I know you. You’re the high school star, the scholar-athlete, the center of the high school universe. Guys like you, we used to call you the barbarians. The warrior class. You could get anything you wanted, any girl you wanted.”

“Yeah, right,” Tanner said.

“Everyone always sucked up to you, even the teachers. Everyone wanted to get on your good side. Whereas I didn’t have a side. I was the kid you never looked at twice. I mean, Dad was dead by the time I was fourteen. Mom worked as a receptionist for a dentist — she sold houses on the side to keep us afloat — but there was a lot of coupon clipping going on. Maybe I had the wrong brand of sneakers. Or my clothes didn’t fit the way they were supposed to. Or maybe I’m just making excuses. I was the guy who ran for class treasurer in college and got his ass handed to him. But you know what? It took me a while, but I found a place.”

“Good,” Tanner said. “I’m glad.”

Will looked uneasy, as if he’d talked too much. Then, crisply, he said: “I suggest we take the Acela back to Boston.” That was the relatively high-speed train between Washington and Boston.