Last Chance to Die by Noah Boyd (good books for 8th graders TXT) 📕

of others on the list fleeing. Once we grab him, our ten-day clock will start ticking. I’ve talked to NSA and explained the evidence to them. They’re setting up Petriv at work for us. He’ll be called away from his desk, and we will casually escort him out. I should be getting a call any minute to let us know that everything is set.”

Vail said to Kate, “Did you tell him about Dellasanti?”

“Yes, she called me last night,” the assistant director said. “So I called the director. Mark, you’re handling that.”

The unit chief, Mark Brogdon, straightened up. “I have an entire surveillance squad ready to go. They’ll be in the park late tonight and look for some good spots to get an eyeball on the bridge. They don’t know any of the specifics, except that they’ll be covering a potential dead drop.”

Kate looked at Vail and, as if anticipating what he was going to ask, said, “If Dellasanti does pick up the package, Bill wants us to take custody of it and see if we can find the next link.”

Langston said, “I have to give it to you, Steve, the two of you figuring out that fingerprint code. Very slick. Apparently Calculus left clues each time so we could figure out the next name. Am I correct?”

Kate had been right about Langston’s being nobody’s fool. He had figured out the connection between the moles without the advantage of the Ariadne inscription. “He has so far.”

“Knowing your disdain for management, it’s not that hard to figure out why you didn’t tell anyone about it.” He looked at Kate. “At least not any of my people.”

“If you check my old performance ratings,” Vail said, “you’ll see that ‘doesn’t work well with others’ was one of my more consistent character flaws.”

Langston chuckled. “I could see where you’d be a nightmare to manage, but you do get results. It’s unfortunate you won’t be able to go with us today to detain Mr. Petriv.”

Vail looked at the agent from OPR and then at Kate. “Me and Lance going to spend a little time together?”

“There are some legitimate concerns about Pollock’s death that need to be answered immediately,” Langston said.

“Like what?”

“The syringe that was recovered from the crime scene had one set of prints on it—yours. Do you know what was in it? Temazepam. Do you know what that is?”

“A depressant.”

“Yes, it is, but do you know what intelligence agencies have been rumored to use it for? Truth serum. Pollock looked like he’d been tortured and then given a truth drug. By us. The Russians don’t use it. They have their own proprietary blend, something called SP-17, according to a defector. So that leaves us holding the temazepam bag. Do you see a pattern here? There can be no explanation that doesn’t sound like we’re covering something up. Especially with you being—no pun intended—a contract employee.”

“There was a deputy assistant director with me. Do you think she was involved in torture?”

“I don’t think either one of you was,” Langston said. “This is a potentially catastrophic public-relations problem that has to be defused immediately. OPR spends a lot more time clearing our employees than having them prosecuted. And Kate will be interviewed, too, once your statement has been taken and analyzed. OPR has decided to interview you first because of your constant threat to just quit and jump on a plane to Chicago.”

Vail laughed and then looked at Kate. She looked away. So she knew that this was coming, he thought. The only reason he’d accepted the director’s offer was the hope of reinstating Kate’s reputation, which had been momentarily tarnished by the ridiculous assumption that she’d attempted suicide. He got up and walked to the door. He turned and looked at Kate and the men around her. Evidently she had been returned to a full-share member of the team. For whatever that was worth. Would her career always come between them? He turned back to Langston. “Nicely done, Bill.”

“I had nothing to do with this. You’re the one who went sneaking off on your own and wound up in the middle of this mess.”

“That fingerprint exam on the syringe and the blood chemistry that found the temazepam—you didn’t have that expedited?”

Langston’s usual stoic expression twisted into a knot of anger fueled by the embarrassment of being caught in a lie. Just then his phone rang. He took his time going to his desk to compose himself. “Bill Langston.” As he listened, he sat down and pulled a pen out of a desk holder. “I see. . . . Yes, I do, but give it to me anyhow.” He wrote something down and hung up. “Petriv didn’t show up for work today, and he didn’t call in,” he announced to everyone, and then looked at Vail.

Vail glanced back at him and then at Kate. Still she didn’t meet his eyes. Apparently he’d been in denial about her truly wanting to end their relationship. But was he reading this correctly, or was he just feeling contempt for everything because he was being so artfully removed from the case? Something this confusing usually just made him mad, but instead he was feeling defiant, defiance being his oldest and most reliable ally. “Good luck.”

Kate knew what that meant. Everybody in the world was on his own. Especially Steve Vail. She had seen something deep in his eyes, something only she recognized—revenge. It was perhaps his only selfish indulgence. He would find some way to involve himself in the case and succeed when everyone else failed. And then he would walk away, his final measure of contempt for the FBI and those who thought they ran it.

After Vail and the OPR agent left, Langston tore the page off the notepad. “I’ve got his home address. Let’s go.”

13

It was in the middle of the afternoon when Vail finished with OPR. The two agents who interviewed him had never been involved in a murder investigation before and peppered him with clumsy questions and half-thought-out