Things Happen That Way Page 9
For a second, disdain crossed Davies’s features, but everyone’s attention was focused on the discs, and I wondered if anyone else had seen it. He pushed his chair back and stood, tossing a business card onto the desk. “I’ve got some things I need to do. You have my private number. Contact me when you’ve gotten your heads out of your collective asses. I’ve given you until the end of the week, although I’d prefer to hear from you sooner. If I haven’t heard from you by then, I’ll take my information… elsewhere.”
No one said a word until the door shut behind him. Then, “The man must be a good poker player,” Kirkpatrick observed.
He really thought so? Davies’s façade had slipped a number of times. Was Kirkpatrick so intent on getting Mark that he hadn’t noticed?
“Do you think he’s serious?” His question wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, but Jenner chose to answer it.
“Yes!” Excitement fizzed off him. “We’re going to get Vincent!”
I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs. “Are you that willing to buy what Davies is selling?”
“Excuse me?”
“Jenner, you’re bound and determined to be the one who takes down Mark Vincent.” From the corner of my eye I could see Drum’s face darken. Hmm. Could I use that? I’d give it some thought later.”Because he’s WBIS.” I raised an eyebrow, waiting until Jenner nodded, although his annoyance was plain to see. “What you’re forgetting is Davies is also WBIS.”
“But this would be an ideal opportunity to take Vincent out!” Drum’s voice was sulky.
“I’m not arguing that with you,” I lied. “What I’m asking is how much can we believe Anson Davies? Why would Trevor Wallace remove a man of Davies’s qualifications after all these years? Could it be that Wallace is aware of something we’re not?”
“Explain yourself, Mann!” Kirkpatrick snapped.
“Certainly, General. If I recall correctly, Davies is in his seventies now. He was given an extended leave of absence last year. Do you know why?” I let my expression grow cold. “He meddled in the affairs of another department.”
“Jesus, Mann!” Jenner knew that was a not quite subtle reminder of what Holmes had done here at the Company. Jenner and his assistant exchanged glances, while Kirkpatrick and Drum looked intrigued.
“But Wallace took him back!” Drum wanted to believe Davies so badly. I’d have felt sorry for him if it wasn’t my lover at stake here.
“This is true.” But I let how dubious I felt about that color my tone of voice.
“Quinn, what are you getting at?” For the first time, Bram spoke.
“Wallace has been in this business for more years than anyone in this room, and he’s known for always playing a very deep game. Who’s to say he’s not doing that now? Look.” I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward, catching the gaze of each man in the room and making my expression as earnest as I could. “He sets up a situation where Davies comes across as a disgruntled employee willing to sell out the company where he’s worked for thirty years. Davies arrives here, willing to give us the WBIS on a silver platter, and we swallow what he tells us, hook, line, and sinker.”
“You’re a real downer, Mann,” Drum groused, and I shrugged.
“All I’m saying is we’d be foolish to accept his words at face value without seriously examining them.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Jenner scowled. “We lost both the moles we had at the WBIS. Travers was taken out by Prinzip, and Shaw died as the result of utter stupidity during a home invasion.”
Kirkpatrick gave him a stony glare, and Drum’s dropped jaw indicated his level of astonishment.
Only years of experience prevented me from showing my consternation.
The fact that we’d suborned WBIS agents into working for us was obviously supposed to be confidential, but now it was simply a matter of time before the entire intelligence community became aware of how that had fallen apart, courtesy of Drum. Talk about another Bay of Pigs disaster.
“Yes, but we have someone else there.” For the first time, Taylor spoke, seeming pleased that he could add to the conversation, and unaware that this was something he shouldn’t have known, but since he did, shouldn’t have announced to the world.
“How do you know this?” Bram demanded.
“Are you telling me we don’t?” Taylor’s shoulders slumped, and he worried a cuticle between his teeth.
“Well…” Jenner glanced at Kirkpatrick, then glared at Taylor, who swallowed hard. “No.” He cleared his throat. “I’d suggest getting in touch with her.” He shrugged, as if this was the most obvious solution.
“Her? But everyone knows the WBIS only hires women for secretarial positions.” Drum looked as if he could be knocked over with the proverbial feather.
“What better position for our woman to be in?” Taylor spoke again, and I was severely tempted to throttle him.
Well, no use in trying to get the horse back in the barn at this point.
Kirkpatrick tugged on his lower lip. “I have to agree with this, Rayner. Is there any way to get in touch with her?”
Taylor opened his mouth—didn’t Jenner have any control of his assistant? It was Bram who shut him up with a look.
“That’s not my department, but I imagine so,” he said coolly.
“I’ll contact DB Cooper.” Jenner reached for his phone. “He’s the one who managed to place the moles in the first place.”
I wanted to kick Jenner’s ass. No wonder Taylor suffered from verbal vomit. He’d contracted it from his boss. As far as anyone knew, DB was just a technician who dealt with the computers at Langley. The last thing we needed was for his name to be involved in this. Unfortunately, it seemed too late for that. Damn Jenner and damn Taylor.
Bram rose to his feet. “This is going to take some time. We won’t keep you, General.”
Kirkpatrick gave him a twisted smile. “Damned spooks.” But he got to his feet. “You’ll let me know what you find on those?” He gestured toward the discs on Jenner’s desk.
“Of course.”
“If we can remove Vincent from the picture....”
I felt sick. I was CIA, but there was no way I would stand by and let anyone harm my lover.
There was another round of hand-shaking, and then Kirkpatrick and Drum walked out.
“Splendid, Jenner. Just fucking splendid,” Bram snarled when we were alone. “Taylor, you’re on report.”
“Sir?” he squeaked, although he was staring horrified at Jenner.
“You can’t do that!” Jenner snapped at Bram. “He’s my assistant!”
“Well, between you and your assistant, you’ve fucked up this situation royally. Don’t you know by now the Company doesn’t hand out its secrets to anyone?”
“But General Kirkpatrick—” Taylor started to say.
“Not to anyone!”
Jenner turned red. “But… but he’s OIG!”
“Precisely. And when the OIG is part of the CIA, then we’ll consider confiding in them.”
“Meanwhile…” I kept my expression cool, although I wanted to hurl something at those two idiots. “… Major Drum now knows we’ve managed to get agents into the WBIS. How long do you think that will remain a secret? And once that gets back to the WBIS, how long do you think that woman will be in any kind of position to help us?” As much as Mark meant to me, I had no illusions about what he would do when it came to betrayal in the organization for which he worked.
“But she can be replaced!” Jenner insisted.
“By whom?” I concealed what I thought of his callousness.
“Quinn’s right. If you don’t think the WBIS will scrutinize everyone on their payroll and be especially vigilant regarding anyone applying for a position, then you’re a bigger fool than I first thought.” Bram turned to me. “Do you really think Wallace has something up his sleeve?”
“Frankly?” I had no idea, so I answered a question with a question. “Doesn’t he always? Why el
se would he dismiss someone with Davies’s experience?”
“We’re going to need to be very cautious with this. Quinn, can you… Oh, no, that’s right. You’ll be out of town.”
“If you need someone from our department, Syd Cooper or Lyn Raffles would be your best bet.”
“They’re good women, good officers. All right, brief them, please. Meanwhile, Jenner, I suggest you look thoroughly into what Davies is actually doing. Hopefully we can put him off until Friday. He thinks poorly enough of us that he shouldn’t be surprised it’s taking us that long to get our act together.”
“Yes, sir.” Jenner scowled and cleared his throat. “That is, of course, Rayner.”
I bit back a laugh. As a fellow director of counterintelligence, Jenner wasn’t required to address Bram as “sir.” However, Bram was a director who automatically commanded respect. As for Jenner… he wasn’t.
“I’ll go talk to DB before I leave for the day,” I offered.
“Sounds like a plan, Quinn. Have a safe flight, and give Mrs. Mann my regards.”
“Thanks, Bram. I will.”
As I started to walk out, I heard Jenner say, “I didn’t know Mann was married.”
“His mother, Jenner.”
“A mama’s boy?” His assistant sounded condescending.
I paused in the doorway. Did I want to cause a scene? I decided I did. I went back into the office. “Would you care to say that to my face, Taylor?” I rested my hand on my hip, drawing back my suit jacket to reveal my gun, a trick I’d picked up from my lover. Taylor turned so white I thought he was going to faint, and he shook his head vigorously. “No, I didn’t think so.”
“You want to fuck with the Ice Man, Taylor?” I couldn’t remember seeing Bram so disgusted. “Jesus, what department did Jenner fish you out of?”
I wondered that myself.
DB stood beside me and gazed out the window at the panorama of trees that grew in the distance.
“I don’t know, Quinn,” he said. He turned, leaned back against the wall, and crossed his arms. “I can probably hack into the WBIS’s mainframe, but I don’t know how long it will take me. I mean, I’m assuming we don’t want them to know what we’re doing.”
“Of course we don’t. The last thing we want is to rouse suspicions. If you give it a try, please be extremely careful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
“Certainly.” But if his ladies were cutting him loose, or if it appeared that way to him, he might not use his usual caution. “Will you contact our mole?”
“I’ve been trying to. She missed her last check-in time, Quinn.”
“Oh?”
“To tell the truth, I’m a little concerned about her. I’d planned to pay her a visit after work.”
“You know where she lives?”
“Sure.”
“Well....” I could hardly say I hoped he found her in one piece, since she was endangering my lover, but on the other hand, I couldn’t say otherwise. “That reminds me.” I just hoped he didn’t ask how it was his knowledge of the mole’s address reminded me of anything. I went back to my desk and pressed the key on the intercom. “Janet, would you ask Ms. Cooper and Ms. Raffles to come to my office. Thank you.”
“Uh… what’s up, Quinn?” DB looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to be pleased to see them or unhappy because they were at loggerheads.
“Bram might need some help with this situation. I’ll be out of the country, so I told him to rely on Syd and Lyn.” I wondered if DB would object. After all, although he didn’t know it, I was aware they were his ladies.
Instead he sighed. “Yeah, well… I’ve got to get back to my office. I’ll see what kind of program I can come up with.”
“Keep me in the loop, all right? Call, even if I’m in London. I’ll keep my cell phone turned on.”
“You’ve got it, Quinn. Have a safe flight.”
“Thanks. DB….”
He was on his way out, but he paused. “Yeah?”
“I’m serious about being careful. What Drum knows, the entire intelligence community knows. It won’t be long before the WBIS discovers the part you played in getting three moles into their midst.”
“I can take care of myself, Quinn.” He passed Lyn and Syd as they were coming in. “Ladies.”
I didn’t catch what they said to him in return, but when he turned to gaze at them, he looked miserable.
“What’s going on, Quinn?” Lyn asked, her voice cool and contained.
“Sit down. I’ll fill you in.”
Chapter 7
I called Mark as soon as I got home, but it went directly to voicemail.
“Mark, it’s me. Call me as soon as you get this. I need to talk to you.” I wasn’t his keeper, but where could he be on a Monday evening?
After arranging to have my mail held and my newspaper stopped, I made myself some dinner: lamb chops, a baked potato, and a tossed salad. It was delicious, but it was lonely. Was I a fool to daydream of a family who’d sit at the table with me one day? A little boy with my father’s dark good looks, or a little girl who was blue-eyed and blonde like Mother? And Mark, at the bottom of the table, grinning as I instructed our children on the use of their silverware.
But how would he feel about children? His own childhood hadn’t been very pleasant. Would he be willing to put that behind him and settle down? And if he wasn’t…. I thought of what DB had said at lunch, how he’d take his ladies any way he could get them. Could I accept a life without children, if it got me Mark?
I sighed and gazed down at my plate. All that was left were a few bones and the skin of the potato. Nothing had been settled, one way or the other.
I cleared off the table and rinsed and stacked the plates in the dishwasher, then went up to my bedroom. I laid out the clothes I would need for a week, casual and formal, and wound up packing two suitcases and a carry-on. And I’d bring my laptop, on the chance inspiration struck.
By 8:00 p.m., Mark still hadn’t returned my call, so I took my cell phone, went down to the music room, and took out the sheet music for “Such a Night.” Gregor had been... put out when he’d realized that was on my phone, but more because I’d given Mark this specific song to denote his call. Gregor had no idea it reminded me of the night I’d brought Mark a bottle of Pol Roger 1990 to celebrate his promotion to deputy director. We’d wound up making love for the first time, although for quite some time afterward we’d both referred to it as fucking.
I let my fingers dance over the keys, and the bouncy music filled the room.
But it didn’t do much to lift my spirits.
When my cell phone finally rang, I fumbled for it. “Mark.”
“Hi, babe. I just got your message. What’s up?”
What’s up? How could he be so goddamned casual about this situation? “I understand there was a minor bloodbath at the WBIS today.”
“Shit. How’d you hear that?”
I explained about Davies coming in and offering us Mark’s hide. “Kirkpatrick was interested, and Drum was practically salivating.”
“They were there?”
“Yes. Drum kept giving me looks.”
“I told you he had the hots for you.”
“Not those kinds of looks, Mark. From where I was sitting, it seemed as though he thought I’d masterminded Davies’s defection.” I ignored the curse he spat. “It doesn’t look good. They all want you gone, and whether that’s simply out of the WBIS or…” I choked back the words or dead. “I tried to block them—”
“Jesus Christ, Quinn!”
“Mark?” I was startled by the intensity in his voice.
“If they realize why you’re doing that….”
“Why should they? I’ve worked for them for more than ten years. Not to mention the fact that my father is a star on the Memorial Wall and two of my uncles were also Company men.”
“They’re gonna hate me for dragging you down.”
“Goddammit, you’re not dragging me an
ywhere.” The way things had changed in the past few years had left the entire family disillusioned, but I was still CIA enough not to want to mention that. “Besides, I’m not the one you need to worry about!” I kept remembering the vitriol Davies had spewed when speaking of my lover.
“Baby…”
“Let me finish. Davies is to come in on Friday. They’ll do a background check in the meanwhile.”
“It won’t take them four days.”
No, it wouldn’t. “Mark... I’m worried about you.”
But as usual, he brushed it off, not because he disregarded my concerns, but because of his certainty that he was the best.
If anything happened to him—I didn’t want to think of it. I had the feeling it would destroy me even more than when I’d thought I’d lost Armand all those years ago.
“Hey, guess what!” His tone was bouncy, and I blinked. Mark never did bouncy unless…. Was he trying to distract me? “The Boss made me his second-in-command!”
I could hear the capitals when Mark spoke of Trevor Wallace; I didn’t think there was a man Mark respected more.
So that was what Davies meant when he said Wallace had plans for Mark. And if Wallace intended Mark to step into his shoes somewhere down the line, his Director of Public Relations would be beyond livid. “I’m not surprised. But you should have told me sooner. I’d have come over with a bottle of champagne.” I thought fondly of the evening I’d shown up at his door after he’d been made Deputy Director of Interior Affairs, after which I’d decided “Such a Night” was the perfect ringtone for him.
“It’s still not too late.”
After what had gone on this afternoon, I’d have liked nothing better than to drive to his condo and spend the night in his bed with him buried deep inside me, letting me know he was alive. I sighed. “I’m afraid it is. I have an early flight out of Dulles tomorrow.”
“Oh? Where to?”
“London.” I told him how Jefferson was supposed to go but now was too sick. “I’m taking a few vacation days. Mother intends to see Jack Abberley, and she asked me to go with her.”