David Baldacci - Daylight

Five minutes went by, then ten. Ten became twenty.

He was starting to give up hope.

Then it buzzed. He grabbed it so fast with the hand on his good side that his injured side screamed in protest.

“Hello?” he said.

“Puller, it’s Tom Pitts.”

“Thank you for calling me back, sir. And I want to say how sorry I am for what happened to you. I was the one who called you in on this. I never imagined it would cost you your assignment at the Pentagon.”

“No, Puller, I’m the one who needs to apologize. After we met at my office, I made some calls and follow-up inquiries. I thought I was actually making some progress. And then the next thing I knew I got rolled over by an Abrams tank. The Army is a funny mistress, Puller. And when you overlay the politics on top of it—and I’m not just talking about military politics, but on the suit-and-tie side across the Potomac—it gets complicated real fast. Now, I’ve gotten pretty adroit at reading those tea leaves and can usually see trouble coming from miles away. But not on this one. Seven A.M. I was having my first cup of coffee. Eight fifteen, I was ordered to pack my bags and head out to an assignment overseas. In the Netherlands, of all places.”

“Is that where you are now?”

“I fly out the day after tomorrow.”

“Well, again, I’m sorry I got you involved in this, sir.”

“I’m not. It stinks to high heaven. And I don’t intend to take this lying down, Puller. And while I know whoever did this has some major pull, I’m not without firepower when it comes to that.”

“That’s why I was calling, actually. I wanted to fill you in on developments.”

“Where are you calling from?”

Puller hesitated but then decided to just say it. “A hospital bed.”

“What?”

Puller told him about the shooting.

“And you think it’s connected?”

“I know it is, sir.”

“Tell me what you know.”

In brief, organized sentences, Puller told Pitts about Nora Franklin and Adam Gorman. And Peter Driscoll’s grandson Jeff Sands having been killed by the same bullet that had wounded Puller. He also filled in the general on the possible blackmail chamber operating in New York City. And he finished with his brother and an FBI employee gone missing.

“You think they’ve been captured by these people?”

“I can’t think of another reason why they haven’t answered their phones or called us back. I’ve called other people to help me out, but no one came back to me except you.”

“They’re circling the wagons, then,” said Pitts. “I know many folks in the military who have confronted many an enemy on the battlefield and fought him tooth and nail, sustaining injuries and defeat, but fighting on until victory. And I’ve seen these very same people turn into cowards and run and hide at the first hint of a subpoena or a demotion or a call from a suit who doesn’t deserve one ounce of respect. But perhaps unlike the others you called who never called back, I’ve got a dog in this hunt. I earned my four stars, and I earned my position at the Pentagon. And I don’t take kindly to people screwing with me. If they think I’m going to take this lying down, they don’t know shit about me. Even if you hadn’t called, I was going public with this thing before I left the country. When someone hits me, I damn well hit back. Just harder.”

“You sound just like my father.”

“I’ll take that as the highest compliment you could give me.” Then Pitts’s tone changed. It became more thoughtful. “Robert Puller, eh? A lieutenant colonel in the Air Force with the highest security clearances and a wealth of knowledge about our most precious military secrets.”

“Yes sir.”

“We need to get him back. Any idea where they might be located?”

“We’re working on it, sir, I promise.”

“Give me two hours, Puller. I still have some chits to call in. I think I can get it done. After that I just need a target.”

“I was hoping you would say that. And can I ask a favor?”

“Yes. Anything.”

“I know a certain FBI agent named Atlee Pine who would like to be involved.”

“Can she carry her weight?”

“There will be no problem there, General.”

As soon as he finished with Pitts he called Pine and filled her in on the particulars of what he was planning with General Pitts.

“Thanks for putting in a plug for me to be part of it,” she said sleepily.

“You’d do the same for me.”

She, in turn, filled him in on her conversation with Warren Graham.

“So we have the Bureau and hopefully the military coming at them from different flanks,” said Puller.

“I think it’s going to take all the firepower we can muster,” said Pine. “Hey, don’t military personnel carry RFID microchips in them, particularly an asset like your brother, so they can be tracked down easily?”

“They once thought about doing that, but it was too invasive and, more importantly for the military, too expensive. And there were the privacy concerns. And what do you do when they leave the military? Take it out? So, instead, the military issues GPS trackers that personnel turn in when they muster out.”

“Okay, makes sense.” Pine tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

“And I’m sorry for calling so late. I know I woke you.”

“You’re shaming me, Puller. You’re in a hospital bed with a gunshot wound and you’re still working, while my lazy butt is sleeping. Call me anytime you want.”

Puller laid his phone aside and stared at the ceiling. He looked down at the lines covering him and sighed, feeling helpless for the second time in his life. The first time had been the situation with his father’s dementia. He couldn’t beat that on a battlefield. And now here he was helpless again.

Shit.

CHAPTER

65

PINE AWOKE WITH A JOLT late the following morning and jumped out of bed ready to hit the ground running, her heart racing and her nerves at their highest level. She tottered there for an instant before thinking, What the hell are you doing? Calm down.

She made some coffee and thought about the call from Puller the night before. It sounded like he had the assets to get this done, and now they just needed a location to strike. She checked her phone to see if by any miracle either Blum or Robert Puller had phoned or texted her while she had been asleep. They hadn’t.

There was a text from Clint Dobbs acknowledging receipt of her scanned affidavit. He also added that the ball was rolling, that he had a strategy, and that the Bureau was fully mobilized on this. She was to follow up on any leads she had and relay any progress to both him and Graham.

She let out a long sigh. She had never liked Clint Dobbs all that much. But she did trust the man. He could not be bought, not by anyone.

She spooned some yogurt into her mouth and chomped down on a piece of toast. Then she showered, got dressed, and gunned up. She raced down to the garage, got into her car, and drove off.

Pine was sick of reacting to other people’s moves.

It was time to take the fight to them.

She drove straight to Nora Franklin’s office building and found a parking spot on the street. She knew she would need luck to help her at this juncture. If the woman had gone back to DC or to her office in upstate New York, Pine was screwed.

A half hour later the law enforcement gods answered the call.

A cab pulled up in front of the federal building and Nora Franklin got out and walked inside.

Pine immediately went to the same café where Blum had set up her surveillance.

A light rain had started to fall and the sky was darkening quickly.

She got a seat by the window and stayed there, sipping on a coffee and nibbling on a tuna sandwich. After three hours, one of the employees asked if she needed anything else. The clear implication was for her to leave, though the place was by no means full. Pine ordered another coffee and a bag of chips.