The Enraged (A Jonathan Quinn Novel) (27 page)

While he knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up to Howard and his friends, in the interim Griffin would have to report his short-term failure to Morten. That would not go over well.

He had just taken the Rosslyn/Key Bridge exit when the phone rang.

His first thought was,
Finally
. His second was,
That’s not my normal ringtone
.

Even odder, it wasn’t coming from the seat next to him, where his cell sat. The sound was muffled and…under him.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he reached under his seat and searched for the source of the ring. As the tone stopped, his hand encircled the familiar shape of a phone, and pulled it out.

How the hell did it get into his car?

As he contemplated the question, it rang again. The display read:
UNKNOWN
. He debated for only a second before answering. “Yes?”

“Mr. Griffin, how’s the drive?”

There was a small empty parking lot ahead on the right. Griffin pulled into it and stopped. “Who is this?”

“From what I understand, I’m someone you want to talk to.”

The tension that had engulfed Griffin moments before suddenly disappeared. Maybe his report to Morten wouldn’t be as gloomy as he’d thought.

“Do I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. Howard? Or are you the other one?”

The silence was short, but unmistakable. Griffin had scored a point. “Call me Steve,” the man said.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve recovered from the accident, Steve.” No response on the other end. Another point scored. “What is it I can do for you?”

“You can tell me why you’re so interested in me and my friends.”

“I would be happy to. Perhaps we can meet somewhere and discuss it.”

The man laughed. “Right. That’s not going to happen. I’m not a fool.”

“If you’re not a fool, then you must know why I’d like to talk to you,” Griffin said, hoping to find out if Howard was even worth worrying about.

“It obviously has something to do with the apartment in Georgetown. Peter’s apartment.”

“Obviously.”

“Specifically, I would say it has something to do with two things.”

Here was the potential prize. “And what would those two things be?”

“You’d like me to tell you, wouldn’t you? I’ll say this much. One has to do with a tiny island in the Caribbean, and one with a leisurely mountain drive in Turkey. Does that help?” Before Griffin could come up with a response, the man said, “I’ll call again.”

Griffin continued to hold the phone against his ear after the line had gone dead.

A tiny island in the Caribbean. A leisurely mountain drive in Turkey.

They knew. Not only about Miranda Keyes, but also about the connection to Romero.

It was the worst-case scenario, and if he didn’t clamp down on it now, he’d never be able to control it.

He had to restrain himself from throwing the phone on the floor. He needed it, needed Howard to call him back. He set it on the passenger seat next to his own cell, and put the car in Drive.

There were things he needed to do before the phone rang again.

__________

ISLA DE CERVANTES

Q
UINN WALKED BACK
across the room to where Nate, Orlando, and Liz had listened in on the call over Orlando’s computer.

“I’d say that was a direct hit on Miranda Keyes and Peter,” Nate said.

“Absolutely,” Quinn agreed. Griffin had known exactly what Quinn was talking about, which meant there was no question now that the man and the people he worked for were involved in both deaths.

These were the people Peter had been hunting. These were the people Quinn wanted.

“He knew Steve’s name,” Liz said. “He knew about the accident. How could he?”

“The photos taken in front of Peter’s place,” Orlando said.

Quinn nodded. “He must have gotten his hands on them and somehow ID’d Steve that way.”

“I thought Helen Cho had shut down contact between her agency and Griffin,” Orlando said.

“That’s what she told me.” He lifted his phone and tapped the director’s number. As soon as he had Helen on the other end, he said, “Either you lied to me, or you have a leak.”

__________

WASHINGTON, DC

D
IRECTOR CHO ORDERED
an immediate lockdown of O & O. Cell phones were confiscated, and all nonessential communications were forbidden.

Computer techs began looking through logs that tracked not only landline calls but all cell-phone activity within the facility, searching for the specific unusual activity outlined by Director Cho.

It took only eight minutes to identify a potential suspect, and another three minutes to comb through his personal cell-phone records to confirm that more suspicious calls had occurred when he was away from the building.

When the security detail entered the suspect’s office, Michael Dima—the current Central—looked up from his computer screen in surprise. “Excuse me, but you’re not allowed in here.”

Clyde Witten, head of the detail, took a step forward. “Sir, you will come with us.”

“I will do no such thing. I’m Central. I can’t leave my desk.”

“Relief is on the way, sir. You will come with us.”

Dima made a great show of being outraged as he reached for his phone. “This is ridiculous. I’m calling Director Stone right now.”

Witten stepped forward, yanked the phone out of Dima’s hand, and put it back in its cradle. “You will come with us.”

He grabbed Dima by the arm and pushed him firmly toward the door.

“What’s this all about? You can’t do this! I want to talk to Director Stone.”

“I’ve been told that Director Stone is no longer with O & O,” Witten said. He’d received word of Stone’s “early retirement” straight from Direct Cho when she gave him his current orders.

“What?” Dima said. “Then…then, I, uh, I want to talk to who’s in charge.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

__________

D
IMA WAS DEPOSITED
in one of O & O’s interrogation rooms, and told to wait in the chair.

A television monitor on a rolling stand was at the other end of the room. Three minutes after he sat down, it flickered on. Staring back at him was Director Helen Cho.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dima,” she said.

“Director Cho,” he said, his mouth dry. Though he and everyone at O & O knew what she looked like, he’d never talked to her before.

“I have a few questions for you.”

“How can I help you?” he said, hoping to God this was a mistake and not what he feared it was.

She smiled. “I’m happy to hear you’re willing to cooperate. Why don’t we start with this? Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Griffin from Darvot Consulting.”

Not a mistake.

Exactly what he’d feared.

__________

ISLA DE CERVANTES

DIRECTOR CHO’S NEWS
that the leak had been detained solidified the plan in Quinn’s mind. When he told her what he wanted to do and how she could be of assistance, he half expected her to order him to back off and leave the whole mess alone. He would have ignored her, of course, but it didn’t come to that. Her response instead was to make no response at all.

After the silence had gone on for more than twenty seconds, he said, “Does this mean we can count on you?”

More dead air.

“Director?

He heard her take a breath. “We may be many things, but the US government is not in the habit of sanctioning the death of law-abiding citizens, especially for personal gain. Provisionally, you can count on us.”

“Provisionally?”

“There are…others who need to be informed.”

“I don’t know if letting more people in on this is a good idea.”

“It’s the only way you’ll have my support, something you and your people will need. And trust me, the ones I need to talk to won’t say anything.”

“How long do you need?”

“Thirty minutes. An hour at the outside.”

“I’ll be waiting for your call.”

__________

T
HEY GATHERED IN
Orlando’s room.

Present were Quinn, Nate, Liz, and the other men who’d been rescued from Duran Island—Lanier, Berkeley, and Curson. Daeng, Howard, and Misty were conferenced in via Orlando’s phone, while the Mole was listening in on Nate’s.

The medical staff had not been happy to see everyone piling into the room, but Quinn had squelched the protest after a quick, pointed conversation with Dr. Montero. Unless one of Orlando’s medical alarms went off, no one would enter.

Quinn laid out the details of his plan, then said, “Now is the time for you to tell me if you are unable or unwilling to participate.”

His gaze lingered on the three men who’d been held captive with Nate and Peter. While they had started to recover from their wounds, none of them was at full strength yet. But not one opened his mouth. Instead, they all looked determined and ready.

Quinn glanced at his sister. There was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

After a second, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“If you have a problem with any of this, speak up.”

“No, it’s just you’ve all lived in this world for a long time. I’m still getting used to it. To most people, something like this would be handled by, I don’t know, I guess the FBI.”

“And in that world, an FBI investigation would be long and complicated, and probably turn into a media fiasco that would affect everything for months or perhaps even years. Chances are, some good people would be taken down because of it. You understand that, right?”

She nodded.

“Personally,” he said, “I don’t give a damn whether there’s an investigation and scandal or not. What I do give a damn about is them.” He gestured at Lanier, Berkeley, and Curson. “And about Nate, and Orlando, and Peter. And Peter’s wife. In our business, we don’t wait years for justice that may or may not come. We deal with it ourselves.” He paused. “I understand if you have a problem with this. If I were you, I’d probably have a problem, too. So if you’d rather not help out, that’s okay.”

Liz looked at him with eyes that matched his own intensity, and her hand slipped into Nate’s. “I never said that. You know I’ll do anything you need me to do.”

He wasn’t sure how to feel about her support. He had never wanted to expose her to his life of secrets and death, but ever since they had reconnected, it seemed that was all he’d done. He was saved from saying anything else by the vibration of his phone.

“You can remove the provisional,” Helen told him. “You have our support.”

“How high does that support go?”

“High enough.”

A beat. “I guess it’s time to get things rolling.”

CHAPTER
33

WASHINGTON, DC

G
RIFFIN WAS BEGINNING
to lose his patience.

The first thing he did when he’d arrived back at his office was to assign one of his local computer-geek contacts the task of figuring out the phone number Steve Howard had used to call him, so they could then establish the phone’s exact location. But after two hours, the geek was no closer to knowing the number than when he’d started. Howard was apparently using some pretty advanced security software.

The Mole was proving useless, too. The only contact Griffin had from him was a brief e-mail saying he was making progress on the woman but basically had nothing solid yet.

And if those two things weren’t enough to cause him to lose his cool, Dima wasn’t returning his calls. Dima had told Griffin he was on duty that night. Even if he was monitoring several active O & O operations, he still should’ve had time to talk to Griffin.

Griffin checked the clock—8:37 p.m. Morten’s flight was due to land in an hour and a half. He would expect Griffin to be waiting in the back of the car when he was picked up, which meant Griffin would have to leave in forty-five minutes. He would much rather wait at the office for his boss, but he knew that wasn’t acceptable.

The cell phone on his desk began to ring—the one that had been waiting for him in his car. It was now hooked up to his computer, so that call data would be instantly sent to the geek.

He snatched it up.

“Mr. Howard,” he said.

“Mr. Griffin,” said the same caller from before.

“Are you calling because you’re ready to meet now?”

“I’m calling to see if you’ve had time to think about what I shared with you.”

Griffin picked up some additional noise on the line that hadn’t been there the last time the man called. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like the man was in a car or some other type of vehicle.

“Why would I do that?” Griffin said. “I have no idea what any of that meant.”

“You’re not a very good liar.”

“Perhaps there are misunderstandings all around, which I think is a good reason for us to get together and talk. Don’t you?”

“If you’re unwilling to admit the truth now, then why would talking in person be any different?”

“Mr. Howard—Steve—you’re being unreasonable. It’s a simple sit-down. I’ll even let you choose the place.”

“When I call back, rethink your earlier answer.”

The man hung up.

Griffin immediately grabbed his desk phone and called the geek.

“Were you able to trace it?” he said.

“No,” the guy said. “The call was bounced all over the place.”

Fuck!

“But,” the geek said, “I may have broken through the firewall. I’ve got the first two digits of the phone number, and should be able to get the rest. Just need a little time.”

“Then do it,” Griffin said, and disconnected.

He told himself to relax. Everything was going to be fine. The kid would get the number, Griffin would find Howard and his friends, and that would be that.

The past would stay where it was supposed to.

__________