Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fix

Brown said, “That’s why you have PR people. And they were paying for his stay at hospice. No one’s going to ding them after that, if anyone really even knew about it. They’ve funded construction of a new at-risk youth facility in Southeast. No one’s going to hold one kid against them, as awful as that sounds.”

“I wonder how the PR folks will spin their being spies,” snapped Jamison.

Bogart said to Brown, “How did you end up here?”

Brown looked at Jamison. “Alex called me and told me. I appreciate the heads-up.”

“You’re welcome,” said Jamison as Decker gave her a curious glance.

“Do you have any idea who the Gorskis could have been working for?” said Bogart.

“Obvious suspects are the Russians, of course. But you can’t rule out the Chinese, the North Koreans, or some of the players in the Middle East.”

Jamison said, “Would Middle Eastern terrorists use people like the Gorskis? You wouldn’t think they would trust them.”

“Lots of people who look like you and me have been radicalized,” replied Brown. “The same for North Korea and the Chinese. And sometimes it comes down to money.”

“Well, if the Gorskis have been this rich for decades and have been spying this whole time, we might be able to rule out the Middle East,” said Decker. “That didn’t come into play really until after 9/11.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Brown.

“Were the Gorskis in a position to actually steal the secrets?” asked Bogart. “Or were they bankrolling those who did?”

“The latter. Neither of the Gorskis could have come into contact with places where the secrets are actually located. But they also moved in high circles and they came into contact with people who do have those secrets. Some at the highest levels. I’m talking politicians, military, bureaucrats, executive leadership of defense contractors. They’ve all probably been in this house at some point.”

“That’s a lot of very high-level possibilities,” said Bogart.

“Just calling it like I see it, Agent Bogart.”

“So we think the secrets that Walter Dabney stole moved through this network?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised to find that the Gorskis paid off Natalie’s gambling debts in exchange for the classified information. It might have gone from Dabney directly to Berkshire. She then passed it along to Jenkins and he on up the chain.” She looked at Bogart. “My people have broken the code in the Harry Potter book.”

“And?”

“There were at least nine months of classified info on there in various colors that fluoresce. As we suspected that included a back door into three highly sensitive DIA databases. That was what we believed Dabney stole. Our undercover ops overseas have been severely compromised. We’ve already lost five assets on the ground because of it.”

“But Dabney wasn’t stealing secrets nine months ago,” pointed out Bogart. “His came later when Natalie got into trouble with the gambling.”

“He’s obviously not the only spy they were working with,” said Brown.

“But surely he wouldn’t have had that information simply because he was a contractor to DIA,” said Jamison. “That sounds more like something you guys would keep internally.”

“It absolutely was. But Dabney used his relationship with key people there to ferret out the entry passcodes for that data. We figured all this out after the fact, of course, but by then the damage was already done.”

“What assets?” asked Decker. “That might narrow down who’s behind this.”

“Syria and Libya.”

“Does that help us take some players out of the equation?” said Decker.

“Thirty years ago, it might have, but Russia is so heavily invested in the Middle East’s geopolitical equation that they could be behind it. Putin is ruthless and he has firmly in mind a plan to make Mother Russia a global player once more. And to do that he needs influence everywhere, particularly in the desert. And we can’t rule out China either, because they have similar goals. All you need is to see what they’re doing in the South China Sea to understand that. And both countries are beefing up their military capabilities. And then you have Un in North Korea as a wild card who’s determined to build a nuke that can reach the West Coast.”

“Sounds like Doomsday is coming sooner rather than later,” said Jamison in a resigned voice.

“Unless we can knock out spy operations like this, I wouldn’t make any retirement plans,” said Brown. “They might prove unnecessary,” she added ominously.

Decker was sitting on the couch with his eyes closed and his head tilted down.

Jamison had just walked out of the bathroom dressed in a long shirt with gym shorts. She was brushing her teeth with one hand and carrying a small plastic bag of trash with the other. She padded barefoot down the hall, glanced at Decker, shrugged, and dropped the plastic bag into a large trash receptacle located on one side of the kitchen island.

That’s when the knock came at the door.

Jamison looked around and observed that Decker did not appear to have heard the knock.

She tried to speak and watery toothpaste dribbled out of her mouth. She caught it in one hand and hurried over to the sink. She rinsed out her mouth.

The knock came again.

“Decker, can you get the door?”

He didn’t budge and his eyes didn’t open.

“I’ll take that as a no!” exclaimed Jamison. She used a paper towel to wipe off her mouth and hurried over to the door. She looked through the peephole and her eyes widened.

“Yes?” she said through the door.

Four men stood outside, all dressed in suits. One of them held up his open cred pack to the peephole.

“Holy shit,” Jamison muttered.

She opened the door and stepped back.

The four men didn’t move. The one in the lead looked her up and down, and then glanced over at Decker, who still sat on the couch.

“Amos Decker?” he said.

“Yes,” said Jamison. “I mean, that’s us. I... I mean...” Flustered, she drew a quick breath, composed herself, and said, “I’m Alex Jamison. And he’s Amos Decker.”

“I’m Special Agent Nathan Deel, with the United States Secret Service. Mr. Decker, you need to come with us.”

“When?” asked Jamison.

“Now.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Now.”

Decker opened his eyes and looked over at them. “You better go change, Alex.”

“The invitation did not include your friend,” said Deel sharply.

“Then I’m not going,” said Decker. He closed his eyes and settled back on the couch.

Deel glanced at one of his men and then at Jamison. “Our orders are for him only.”

“Decker,” said Jamison. “It’s the Secret Service, for Christ’s sake.”

“Unless they have a warrant for my arrest, I don’t go unless you go. And if you guys want to try to carry me out of here, be advised that I’m a big load.”

Deel frowned, took out his phone, and stepped down the hall.

A minute went by before he rejoined them. Deel let out a long breath, glanced at Jamison, and nodded curtly. “Okay, you’re in.”

She stared at him openmouthed for a long moment and then said, “Can you give me like ten minutes to change?”

“Make it like five. We have people waiting.”

She raced off down the hall into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Deel stepped into the apartment, looked over at Decker, and took in his rumpled clothes and general dishevelment. “Do you need to change clothes and clean up too?”

Decker stood, towering over the man. “There wouldn’t be much point.”