Дэвид Балдаччи - Daylight

Blum looked back at him stubbornly but said nothing else.

“All right. We will be back to talk to you. And then you will provide the answers we require about you and the man in uniform. Or you will die. Do you understand?”

Blum pursed her lips and looked down.

The men filed out and locked the door behind them.

It was only then that Blum looked up. Her subterfuge had bought them a little time, but that was all. She felt her spine grow soft once more as nearly all hope bled out of her.

Please, Agent Pine, please find us before it’s too late.

Pine was sitting in her rental car. She had been speaking into the phone uninterrupted for nearly twenty minutes. Now she let out a long breath and waited. And waited...

Finally, Clint Dobbs, the head of the FBI branch in Arizona said, “Holy shit, Pine. You sure don’t do anything by half measures.”

“No, sir. Just doesn’t seem to be my fate in life.”

“Just so I get this straight, you’re actually saying there is a blackmail operation that may reach into the highest levels of this government and then spreads out like a spider’s web to God knows where? And the people being blackmailed are presumably doing things to help the blackmailers, using their positions of authority?”

“I don’t think the facts can be explained any other way. And now Carol is missing along with John Puller’s brother.”

“I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

“Neither do I.”

“You said you witnessed Gorman as the shooter?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need an affidavit to that effect. That’ll help me get the ball rolling.”

“I’ll get it to you ASAP.”

“Nora Franklin? I’ve testified before committees she’s on. I’ve socialized with her. I can’t believe she would be involved in something like this.”

“I’m sure, sir. But the fact is she’s up to her eyeballs in this.”

“But you have no proof of that.”

“They got a four-star general yanked off this assignment at the Pentagon. Puller was stonewalled at every turn on a murder investigation involving a federal agent. He was nearly killed, and the grandson of Peter Driscoll was killed. And I’ve heard nothing in the news about it. And an agent friend of mine thinks NYPD is sitting on releasing Jeff Sands’s ID as a favor to Driscoll.”

“Are you suggesting that Senator Driscoll is involved in this, too?”

Pine said, “I don’t know. I have no proof that he is, but if not, it’s a big coincidence his grandson is involved.”

“And this fancy apartment in New York?”

“Sir, I can think of no other reason to have camera equipment in bedrooms where sexual activity of a possibly criminal or professionally embarrassing nature is taking place. And Franklin’s last political opponent quit the race weeks before the election for unspecified personal reasons, even though he was leading in the polls. Who does that, sir?”

“So you think he was blackmailed into getting out?” said Dobbs.

“I can’t think of any other reason he would quit the race like that, just citing personal reasons.”

“But you’d think the guy would have fought back if they tried to expose him.”

“And what if they threatened his family?”

“So now we’re getting into old mob techniques.”

“Those techniques never go away because, unfortunately, they still work.”

Dobbs said, “How many ‘leaders’ do you think they’ve compromised?”

“I’m not sure. Vincenzo said one night he saw people being taken into and out of the place for hours. He knew they were visiting that apartment because he knew the limo driver.”

“Preying on the weaknesses of people,” said Dobbs in a disgusted tone.

“I have no sympathy for people having sex with underage children,” said Pine, thinking of Jewel Blake. “They deserve to have the book thrown at them. But for the others, affairs, drug use, all used for blackmail? That’s different. That’s screwing with people, destroying their lives. If they are using their influence to help, it’s under duress. I think that must be quite a guilty burden to bear, knowing that you’re selling out your own country to save yourself.”

“I know we need to do something ASAP, Pine, but I also have to think about this. Find a strategy moving forward. We have to tread cautiously.”

“I would be careful who you communicate with, sir. Otherwise, you might find yourself transferred to head up an RA so far in the wilderness they use tin cans strung with wire to talk.”

“That thought had occurred to me. So, no leads on Carol?”

“Not yet. But someone is working on it, and I will move heaven and earth to get her back safe and sound.”

“I know you will. Hang in there, Pine. I’ll get back to you.”

He clicked off, and for some reason Pine’s hopes immediately plummeted.

I really can’t count on anybody to help me because who the hell knows how far this goes?

She looked out the window at the darkened street, and her imagination raced to all sorts of terrible fates for Carol Blum and Robert Puller. She never should have brought Blum with her.

And if I hadn’t screwed up Puller’s arrest of Tony Vincenzo, Robert Puller wouldn’t be involved in this, either.

She was convinced that wherever Blum was, so was Robert Puller.

Pine drove directly to the FBI’s New York Field Office, filled out an affidavit, had it notarized, then scanned it to Dobbs in Arizona. She noticed that several agents passed by and looked at her intently.

Is something going on here I’m not aware of?

For a panicked second she had the most horrible thought imaginable: The Bureau had also been compromised and she had been sent here by a devious Dobbs just so she could be arrested on some trumped-up charge.

As she was pondering whether to make a run for it, a man in his fifties, tall and imposing, and dressed in a dark suit with a blue tie over a stiff white shirt, came up to her.

“Agent Pine?”

“Yes?” Something about the man seemed familiar. She tensed.

“I’m Warren Graham. I’m the SAC here.”

That’s why Pine thought she knew the man. Graham was the special agent in charge of the Bureau’s New York Field Office; it and the Field Office in DC were the top two outposts in the Bureau’s universe. He was higher in the pecking order than Clint Dobbs, by a lot.

“I’d like to talk to you. In private.”

Pine was led to a small conference room, and Graham shut the door.

Pine’s heart was banging so hard, she thought she saw her shirt move.

Graham perched on the edge of the table and said, “Clint Dobbs and I were bunkmates at Quantico. We’ve remained close friends over the years. He phoned me after you talked to him.”

Pine put a hand against the wall to steady herself because she had no idea what was coming.

“We’ve been looking at some of the same things you have, Pine. In fact, I’ll let you in on something. There are three other luxury apartments operating in the same manner in addition to the one that you learned of and informed Clint about.”

“So you know what they’re doing?”

“We believe so, yes. The Russians call it kompromat . The Saudis have another term for it, as do the Chinese.”

“Are they all involved in this, sir?”

“Actually, we don’t think it’s foreign states behind this, Pine. We think it’s a private group that is doing this for the oldest reason in the book: money.”

“Did you know about Gorman and Franklin?”

“No, our attention had not turned to them as yet. We’re getting search warrants and surveillance authorizations as we speak.” He paused and looked chagrined. “I know Nora. I, uh, I have to say I’m surprised. I never would have suspected.”