Sean Chercover - The Trinity Game

Conrad signaled to the young man on the nearest computer and said, “Bring up the video.”

Black-and-white security video of a parking garage now came up on a monitor, the screen divided into four segments, each showing a different camera feed. Conrad said, “The underground garage at Trinity’s TV studio.” In the top-left segment, Daniel and Trinity burst into the garage from a stairwell door and crossed out of frame, now entering the bottom-right segment, where they approached a limousine and Daniel tugged on the driver’s door handle. From the high angle, there was no way to see if anyone was inside the limo, but the door didn’t open. They ran out of that frame and into the top-right segment, where they got into an SUV, Daniel behind the wheel. Back in the top-left segment, the stairwell door flew open again, and a black man in a suit ran into the garage. The man had a gun in his hand. He adopted a shooter’s stance and unloaded at the back of the SUV as it tore out of the garage.

The young priest paused the video and said, “It doesn’t look like either one took a bullet. And no gunshot victims at area hospitals match their description.”

“Who else has seen this?” said Nick.

“Nobody, sir. We hacked into the security system, downloaded the video, and wiped the drives. The police haven’t even seen it.”

“Good. What do we know about the shooter?”

The young priest tapped on the keyboard, and an enlargement of a Georgia driver’s license came up on another screen. “Samson Turner. Fox guarding the henhouse, as it were. Trinity’s head of security.” Turner’s concealed carry permit came up on the screen, along with his army discharge papers, PI license, college diploma. “Former Special Forces, Silver Star, honorable discharge, now works in executive protection. Employer is one of the best firms in the field; clients include Fortune 100 CEOs, A-list Hollywood actors, blue-chip law firms, you name it. Argos Security, headquartered in Nevada.”

Nevada. Of course—Trinity’s sports predictions… “The gaming industry,” said Nick.

The young priest brought incorporation papers for Argos Security up on another screen. “That’s what it appears. Argos is owned by a private, numbered company in Grand Cayman, but we know the same holding company also owns Paradise Beach, an online casino based in Antigua and Barbuda.”

“OK. What do we know, after they left the garage?”

“Nothing yet, sir. Both their cell phones are offline.”

“Of course they are.”

“We’ve got a surveillance team in place at Trinity’s house—”

“Waste of time,” said Nick. “They’re not going back to his house.”

“We’re also monitoring for any bank card use—debit or credit—but there hasn’t been—”

Nick silenced the young priest with a flick of the wrist. He clapped his hands together twice and addressed the room. “Gentlemen, phones down, fingers at rest.” The room fell silent and all eyes came his way. “You are dangerously underestimating the subjects of this investigation. Daniel Byrne is the best man the ODA has. He’s not going to make it easy for us. We’ve got to do better than this.”

Conrad spoke to the young priest. “Bryan, run that video back a bit. OK, pause it there. That’s a Cadillac.”

“I don’t know anything about Cadillacs,” said Nick. “What?”

“We can hack into GM’s OnStar system,” said the young priest at the computer, “it’ll tell us where they are.”

“Do it. I want the location of that truck within the hour. And redirect your men away from Trinity’s house. I want them looking at Julia Rothman.”

“The reporter?”

“She’s…an old friend of Daniel’s. They’re fond of each other. If our other efforts fail, she’ll lead us to him. So I want everything. I want her phone calls. I want her e-mails. I want her credit card activity. I want to know what she likes on her pizza and what songs she sings in the shower. Full surveillance, round-the-clock.” Nick again addressed the room. “We are not the only interested party, gentlemen. Keep that in mind. We have to find them first.”

“Absolutely, Nick. My men are at your command,” said Conrad Winter. But his thin smile and unblinking eyes added: … for now.

Daniel picked up a pre-paid cell phone at a Kroger and called Julia, and she came through with the money, which he picked up at a Western Union in Gadsden, Alabama. Along with the cash, Julia sent a two-word message:

YOU’RE WELCOME.

He topped up the gas, then bought his uncle a pair of blue jeans and a simple gray shirt at Kmart. Trinity drew the line at abandoning the white leather belt and cowboy boots, and Daniel had to settle for partial victory.

“Just trying to keep you alive,” he said as they pulled onto Highway 77, a paved two-lane heading south.

Tim Trinity grinned. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate it.” He rolled down his window and lit a cigarette.

Daniel eyed the cigarette, said, “That’s the fifth one this hour. How bad you itchin’ to die, exactly?”

Trinity watched the smoke rise from between his fingers. “I do so love the devil sticks.” He took another drag, blew it out the window. “Yes I do. ’Course I should give ’em up…but you and I both know I ain’t gonna live long enough for these things to kill me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I just don’t think God’s plan includes me living to see you and Julia make perfect little Judeo-Christian babies, that’s all.”

They rode in silence for half a minute. Daniel said, “How did you know about Julia?”

“How could I have missed her?” Trinity smiled. “Admired your ambition, going after an older woman like her. You did real good, boy…she was a knockout.” Daniel said nothing. “Oh, come on! Don’t say you don’t remember, and don’t say you didn’t see me. I saw you see me. The Maple Leaf bar? Mid City Lanes? Golden Gloves? High school graduation? I stood to the side, holding the door wide open, every chance I got. You always knew you were wanted.”

Daniel raised a hand. “Fair enough. I saw you. And maybe I should’ve thanked you for the offer and told you I wasn’t interested in being an apprentice con artist.”

“Never said you should take after me.” Trinity flicked the cigarette out the window. “Made sure you got good grades, told you I had a college fund set aside. You coulda studied whatever you liked, done whatever you pleased. You knew that.”

“Yeah, well, you also told me we were on a mission from God. Mixed messages. I was a kid, remember?” He pointed at the radio. “Find us a news station, will ya? Let’s see what’s doing in the big world out there.”

Trinity turned the knob and scanned up the AM dial…some hillbilly music…a screaming preacher with a mind full of the “End Times”…a countrified pop station…and then he found a news station and brought it in strong.

…amazing development last night, when the Georgia Lottery numbers came up exactly as Reverend Tim Trinity predicted. But at a press conference this morning the Georgia Lottery Corporation announced that, despite the record jackpot, there were over 859,000 tickets sold with those winning numbers, so each winning ticket will pay only four dollars. For the first time in its seventeen years of operation, the lottery is being suspended pending an internal investigation. The GLC insisted that the investigation will be swift and said the lottery will resume as soon as the integrity of the game can be assured.