The Canton Connection (23 page)

Back at the field office in Arlington the next day, Jake was met by applause.

Maria was beaming with admiration behind the reception desk. But Bob Snow was the first to shake his hand. “You’re a hero, rookie.”

“Thanks, but I’m not sure I’ve got Hoffkeit’s support.”

“Are you kidding? You’re in line for my job, or better. Hoffkeit called me to explain the situation. He
has already put the paperwork through. You’re back onboard.”

Jake took a moment to consider his change in fortune. “That’s nice,” he finally said. “But why did Hoffkeit reject me in the first place?”

“Reject you? He picked you.”

“Then he ordered me to drop the case. You remember that.”

“Well, according to Hoffkeit, after you visited the NSA up in Maryland, they got rattled that you might expose their little arrangement with Stacy. So they called Hoffkeit to complain. You must have created quite an impression if you ruffled feathers at the NSA and put them on the defensive.”

Jake knew that already. “That explains why Hoffkeit ordered me off the case. But why kick me out of the Bureau?”

“It appears that your little visit to the CIA raised a lot of concern at Langley. Some were afraid that you’d jeopardize U.S.-Chinese relations over this matter. From a foreign relations point of view, they wanted to distance the federal government from your actions. They needed you fired.”

“So Hoffkeit didn’t can me because I was a failure.”

“The opposite, man. You were fired because you were entirely too effective.”

That gave Jake a small measure of comfort. And cause for concern for the government as a whole.

“Okay,” he said at last. “I guess I’ll take my old job back. But first I need a real leave of absence.”

“Take all the time you want. You deserve it.”

When Jake finally made it home, his apartment door was open.

There had been an intruder, and he still heard activity inside.

He drew his pistol and pressed his back against the wall, the barrel by his ear.

It sounded like someone rummaging through his papers. He had all his tax filings and financial papers in there.

“FBI. Don’t move,” he shouted, and swung into the entry, his gun sweeping the room.

He saw someone in blue jeans in the kitchen. His cat wandered out to greet him. She was licking her lips.

Jake put the gun away quickly.

Who was that in the kitchen?

“Oh, hi Jake,” the voice called with its soft, familiar drawl.

It was Amber.

“You’ve been away for a while,” she said. “So I thought I’d stock your fridge.”

He approached her and couldn’t resist a smile. Her jet-black hair was supposed to be up in a bun, but the frizzy ends shot out in all directions.

“Let’s eat out tonight,” he said. “I’d like to hit Five Guys for a burger and fries.”

“Sure. This can keep. But you’ll want to eat the cantaloupe.”

“We can have it for breakfast.”

He slipped an arm around her.

“Jake!”

They kissed for a minute or two.

“You’ve been away too long,” she said.

He had to agree.

It had only been a week, but it felt like a lifetime.

About the Author

Fritz Galt is an American novelist with over twenty years of experience in the diplomatic community. He has lived abroad in Cuba, Switzerland, Yugoslavia, Taiwan, India, China and Belgium. He lives with his family in Asia. His bestsellers include
Double Cross
,
The Trap
and
The Maltese Cross
. For an in-depth look at Galt’s work, visit sigma-books.com.