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  “And they believed her.”

  “Apparently she was the lesser of two evils. She has about eight of them.”

  “How many have you got?”

  “Half that number.”

  I took my phone away from my ear and stared at it. How could the Division have so many incompetent operatives? Unless they’d pissed someone off, and this was an easy way to dispose of them?

  Meanwhile, Pete was saying, “As to the number of personnel the Scarlet Chamber has….”

  Fuck it. It looked like we were going to be involved whether we wanted to be or not. “Do you have any idea where they’re going to be holed up?”

  “Babineaux managed to take a couple of laptops with him and he’s working on it. At the moment, there are almost as many operatives here as there are at the Division. And no, mon cher m’sieur, you don’t want to know where ‘here’ is.”

  “Fair enough. What about the operatives who were on away missions?”

  “That’s something Carlyle is working on.”

  “Carlyle? Tactics’s boy toy?”

  “Yes. He did not take it well when Tactics set him aside for the American, so apparently he’s been waiting to retaliate. He helped himself to a laptop and followed us.”

  “Are you sure he isn’t a spy?”

  “Aren’t we all?” Pete laughed at the irony of that. “But I understand what you mean. Giuliani is keeping an eye on him. He has told Carlyle he will kill him an inch at a time if anything happens to Babineaux.”

  Good man, Jules. Well, as long as it wasn’t Femme he was supposed to be guarding. “Uh… how’s Femme?”

  “Well. Her knowledge of the human body has come in handy. She and Homme have been able to patch up most of the wounds. She sends her regards, by the way.”

  Wounds? “Wounds?”

  “Tactics did not say anything about the battle?”

  “Obviously not.” Or had he, and The Boss just hadn’t chosen to mention it to me?

  “As soon as Tactics learned what Kiska is, he assumed we were all behind her and ordered his pet operatives to take us out. He has been very… edgy… since last year’s fiasco with Prinzip.”

  “I can imagine. How bad were the injuries?”

  “Eh. Flesh wounds for the most part. Three of my people are out of commission.”

  That wasn’t good. He didn’t have that many to begin with. “You’re okay?”

  “Of a certainty. However, one might say I’m a little… on edge… myself. When I see Tactics, I’ll have much to discuss with him.”

  I almost wished I could be there myself. Tactics never took Pete seriously, possibly because Pete had been a Valentine op at one time. “Look, call me if the situation changes.”

  “Bien sûr, mon cher m’sieur.”

  “And Pete? It might be a good idea to give some thought to getting out of the business.”

  “Would you?”

  “No.” But then, the man I worked for wasn’t… I thought of Quinn’s words… a raving lunatic. “Good night, Pete.”

  “Good morning, Mark.”

  Chapter 19

  Ms. DiBlasi called the next morning before I even had time to hang up my overcoat and remove my suit jacket. “Mr. Wallace is rescheduling the meeting with Stanley to eleven. Meet him there at that time.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She snorted—a woman her age shouldn’t make such an inelegant sound.

  “Does he have some spare time? I have something I need to speak with him about.”

  “He can give you a quarter hour now.”

  “I’ll be right up.” I hung up the phone, hung up my overcoat, and then scribbled a note, which I left on my secretary’s desk, letting her know where I was. It was too early for her to be in, even more so now that she was pregnant. For a second I wondered how I’d missed her morning sickness.

  Then I shook my head and went up to ten.

  Ms. DiBlasi waved me into The Boss’s office. He glanced up and sat back as I walked in. “If this is about the Division—”

  “It is. I spoke to Pierre de Becque last night. Were you aware that there was a firefight between Tactics’s Division people and de Becque’s?”

  “No.” His expression was quietly furious. “This was something else Lynx neglected to inform me of.”

  “It sounds like he might be going off the deep end, siccing his people on each other. And he had a dozen operatives in Limbo.”

  “That many?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  He scrubbed his face. “All right, we’ll discuss this more with Stanley. Was that all you needed to see me about?”

  “No.” My tone had him stiffening. “We’ve got something closer to home. I learned that Davies has approached the CIA. The skinny is he wants to make a deal with them.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “They get rid of me, and he’ll spill his guts about all things WBIS.”

  “That son of a bitch!”

  I let out a surreptitious breath. The Boss had known Anson Davies for a lot of years, and in spite of our recent conversations, I hadn’t been certain he would take my word for it.

  “How did you learn of this?”

  “I... have a contact in the CIA.”

  He nodded in approval, and fortunately didn’t ask more about it. “How much time do we have?”

  “They want to see him on Friday. They’re going to run a check on him in the meantime.”

  “It takes them that long to do their research?” He tugged on his lower lip. “Well, that gives us time to deal with this debacle.”

  “Do you want me to handle it?”

  “No. If you got in touch with Davies now, he’d be suspicious.” He ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time I noticed the silver strands running through it. When had that happened? “Fuck with my agency, will you?” The fury on his face belied his age. “I’ll call him.”

  “Won’t he suspect you?”

  “Unlikely. When he realized I was making him retire rather than firing you, he insinuated I must be becoming senile.” He pressed a key on the intercom. “Ms. DiBlasi, would you tell Murphy I need him up here ASAP? Thank you.” Murphy ran the WBIS’s IT department. The Boss met my gaze. “It occurs to me that the CIA, not being as stupid as we’d prefer to believe, will attempt to hack into Davies’s computer to see if it contains anything of interest. Murphy should be able to come up with something that will convince them they’ve got the goods.”

  “Yes, sir.” I thought about my senior special agent. Matheson had a degree in computer technology, and he would have been ideal in IT. Once again I wondered what Adams had been thinking to make him a wet boy.

  “I may need you available this evening, Mark. And you might want to consider not bringing Rayne with you. There will be plenty of time for her to see her—see how I deal with things.”

  Why the fuck would I… wait, what? “She’s been told the position is hers?” I sure as hell hadn’t notified her.

  “Of course not, Mark! That’s your department.”

  “I have her set up for an interview later this morning,” I admitted grudgingly.

  “May I suggest you do it now? I believe she’s in the building. Possibly the gym. She does like to fence.”

  The intercom buzzed, and he pressed the key. “Yes, Ms. DiBlasi?”

  “Murphy is here.”

  “Send him in.” He took his forefinger off the key. “All right, then. I’ll see you in Stanley’s office at eleven.”

  “Yes, sir.” This meeting was at an end.

  I had one thing to do before I went looking for Rayne, and since I was already on ten, I’d just head on over to Public Relations.

  Bancroft was away from his desk, but someone was in Davies’s former office, crawling around on the floor. I leaned against the door and watched as he fiddled with the computer’s tower.

  “Goddammit,” he snarled.

  “Problem?”

  He jumped and
almost banged his head on the bottom of the desk. “Who are you?”

  “I might ask you the same thing.”

  “I’m Allard. I’m replacing Mr. Davies. This is my office.”

  “I’m Vincent.”

  “V-Vincent?” He turned green. “What are you doing here? This isn’t your department!”

  Nothing like stating the obvious. “I need this computer’s hard drive.”

  “Well, you can’t have it! I mean… I mean….”

  I approached him, and he whimpered and scooted away on his ass. What did he think I was going to do? I took a pen out of my pocket and unscrewed the base, revealing a screwdriver. Then I crouched beside the computer and unscrewed the side panel.

  “What are you doing? You can’t do that!”

  I removed the hard drive and slid it into my pocket. “I’ll see you get this back.” I replaced the panel and straightened.

  Bancroft was just coming in as I left the main office. “Mr. Vincent! I… uh… just went to get a cup of coffee.”

  “So I see. It looks like you’ve got a new boss.”

  “Excuse me?” He rushed to the other office. “Mr. Allard! You weren’t supposed—I mean, I wasn’t expecting you just yet!”

  Allard slammed the door shut in his face.

  “He’s not supposed to be here! Mr. Davies is going to be so angry! And he’s going to blame me.”

  “Bancroft.”

  “Sir?” He turned to face me.

  “You might want to transfer to another department.”

  He looked like he was going to cry. “That’s what Dev tells me, but I like Public Relations!”

  I shrugged and walked out. I had to find Rayne, and then I had to get the hard drive to Matheson.

  Rayne was in the gym, fencing with M. Bélanger—in spite of the mask she wore, and in spite of the fact that it was a while since I’d last seen her, I recognized her style.

  They paused when they realized I was watching them. “Sorry to interrupt. Rayne, shower and change. I want to talk to you.”

  “Yes, sir!” She saluted M. Bélanger with her blade and strode off.

  “Does she have the position?” he asked, removing his mask and placing it in the crook of his elbow.

  “The Boss wants me to interview her now.”

  He rested his free hand on my shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about her. She’s as good as her file indicates.”

  We’d see. “Tell her to meet me in my office.”

  Before I went to my own office, I stopped at Matheson’s. Ms. DiNois was pouring a cup of coffee.

  We went through a lot of coffee at the WBIS.

  “Oh, Mr. Vincent! I can’t thank you enough for yesterday!”

  “It’s okay.” I hated when people thanked me. “How are you feeling? Any morning sickness?”

  “No, it’s too early for that.” I looked at my watch, and she giggled. “No, I meant too early in the pregnancy.”

  I nodded. “Is Matheson in?”

  “Yes, sir. I was just about to bring him his coffee.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  She gave me the black mug with “Geek” across it and the definition along the bottom, and I went into Matheson’s office.

  He looked up from his monitor and rose. “Mr. Vincent. Did we have a meeting scheduled, sir?”

  “No.” I handed him his mug, and he set it aside. “We may have a situation here. You’ve heard Davies is out on his ass?”

  “Yes, sir.” Matheson kept his expression bland, but I could see the grim satisfaction in his eyes.

  “I want you to come up with a computer program that will give a hacker the impression that he’s getting vital intelligence.” I took the hard drive from my pocket and placed it on his desk.

  “Is that....”

  “Yeah, it’s Davies’s.” I explained what else I needed him to do.

  His gaze went from it, back to me. “How much time do I have?”

  “Not a lot. The Boss is having Murphy work on it, but as good as Murphy is, I think you’re better.”

  “Thank you, sir!” He flushed with pleasure.

  “This is top priority. Anything else you’re supposed to work on takes a backseat.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I turned toward the door.

  “Mr. Vincent? I understand Internal Affairs will be getting a few new agents?”

  “Yeah. And one of them may be a woman.”

  He grinned. “Welcome to the twenty-first century.”

  “I guess so. Get to work.”

  It was almost a quarter to nine by the time I got back to my office. I pulled a box of files from the back of the storage closet and picked out half a dozen. That should be enough to keep Rayne busy until lunch.

  Ms. Parker still wasn’t in, so I left the door open.

  A few minutes later, Rayne tapped on the frame.

  “Come in.”

  She entered. “Sorry if I’ve kept you waiting, sir.”

  I looked her up and down. She was wearing a navy blue pinstripe pantsuit that looked like it had been purchased from Brooks Brothers. Quinn had one that was similar. She looked good, but not as good as my lover.

  “Who do you know?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The WBIS has never hired a woman as an agent. Someone thinks highly enough of you to want you to be the first.” I held up a hand when she started to protest. “I’ve got no objection, as long as you can do the job.”

  “I can. I promise you, I can! I’m a Marine!”

  “You were a Marine.”

  “No, sir, I am—once a Marine, always a Marine!” She didn’t back down from the look I gave her.

  I appreciated loyalty, and I could give her that. “Be that as it may, if I approve your application, you’ll be WBIS, and the WBIS comes first. If you can’t accept that… there’s the door.”

  “Does the WBIS mean that much to you?”

  “Trevor Wallace does.”

  She hesitated a moment, then nodded.

  “Okay. So who put you in line for this?”

  Again, she met my gaze. “M. Bélanger is a… a friend of my father.”

  I nodded. And The Boss thought well of her too. “That isn’t going to guarantee you get the position, or if you get it, that you keep it.”

  “No, sir.”

  “I will say you have a very impressive record.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sit down and let’s get this interview over with.”

  It didn’t take long. She was smart and thought on her feet, but that didn’t mean I was ready to accept her. I wanted to see what else she could do.

  “Do you have a pen? Good.” I rose and picked up a legal pad and the stack of files I’d placed on my desk. “Come with me.”

  I led her down the corridor to the small office that would be hers if I was satisfied with her response to the same cold cases I’d had Matheson work on last year, when The Boss told me he was to replace me as senior special agent. I was interested in seeing if Rayne would come up with similar solutions.

  “Go through these. Take as much time as you need.” Eventually I’d want speedy, but to begin with, I wanted thorough. “When you’re done, come back to my office and tell me how you’d deal with them.”

  I left her there, leaning an elbow on the desk, her chin propped on the heel of her hand, beating out a tattoo on the blotter with her pen as she studied the first file.

  Ms. Parker was at her desk by the time I arrived back at my office.

  “I want to apologize for yesterday, sir.”

  “No need to. I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with Humphrey…” Was The Boss going to discuss this with him? If not, today might be a good time for it. “Do me a favor and make an appointment with him at his earliest convenience. You might want to let Granger know I’ll try to see he’s eligible for paternity leave.”

  “Thank you, sir!” She sniffled, and I hoped she wasn’t going to start crying again.
/>   “You’re aware we may be getting additional agents for this department?”

  “Yes, sir. I understand one of them might be a woman.” I wasn’t going to ask how she’d learned of that—the staff grapevine.

  “Grey Rayne. She’s working on something I’ve given her. If she’s got any questions, send her to—” No, what Matheson was working on was too vital for him to be disturbed. “Call me. I’m going up to the gym.” I needed to work off some stress. And I wanted to know just how close a friend of the family M. Bélanger was.

  A frown line appeared between her brows. “Mr. Vincent, you’re supposed to have a meeting with Mr. Stanley in a few minutes.”

  “Sorry, I forgot to change that. The meeting is at eleven. Other than that, there shouldn’t be anything on my schedule.”

  “No, sir. I’ll get right on arranging that meeting with Mr. Humphrey.” She was reaching for the phone as I left.

  Chapter 20

  “I’ve known her parents a good many years,” the fencing master told me after we’d dueled to a draw and were cooling down. “Tea?”

  “I don’t suppose you have coffee?” I removed my mask. Drops of sweat curled over my cheeks to my jaw, and I knew my hair was plastered down from a combination of sweat and the mask.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “In that case, Earl Grey?” I knew there were other types, but thanks to Portia, I’d actually developed a taste for this one.

  “Excellent choice.” He sent me a sidelong glance and grinned. “Since this is all I have.”

  A junior agent came rushing in. “Excuse me, M. Bélanger. I’m here for—” He saw me and his eyes bugged out. What? Didn’t he sweat when he exercised? “M-Mr. Vincent! I’m so s-sorry! Uh... I’ll come back later!”

  “Bien sûr.” M. Bélanger waved him away, and he bolted out of the fencing hall. “Come.”

  I followed him to a small lounge. It contained a hot plate, a microwave, and a small refrigerator, as well as some cupboards. A roll of paper towels was on the counter, and I tore off a sheet and mopped my hairline and the back of my neck.

  He nodded toward the table and chairs. “Have a seat.” He set about boiling the water, and I saw what he meant—instead of putting tea leaves into a pot to steep, he put a tea bag into each cup. “Grey was a surprise in more ways than one,” he continued. “Her parents never expected a child, and when they realized they were going to have one, they fully expected a boy. However, they’ve never been anything less than fully accepting of her. They’re very proud of her.”