The Export by J.K. Kelly (read along books txt) 📕

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

As Matt approached the security checkpoint, he had already pulled his FBI credentials and had them open in his raised hand for the guards to see. The special symbol affixed to the lower right corner indicated he had an international gun permit, honored everywhere except in China and North Korea.

“I’m FBI, I am armed, and here to see Charlie Chaste up on the third floor,” he said slowly and clearly. He met the two first guards’ questioning stares with a level gaze and waited for them to wave him through.

Matt had burned the photo images of Allan and Melville into his brain. He expected he might see Melville, the guard dog – the muscle, but knew he would have to put on his best performance so the man wouldn’t suspect he’d been tagged. After a few phone calls made to higher-ups on other floors, Matt removed his three weapons and placed them inside a lockbox in the guardroom off the lobby. The ranking guard would have one key, Matt the second, and it would take both to open it when his visit concluded.

An escort led Matt into the elevator and off at the third floor, leaving him at Charlie’s office. Charlie’s admin, who Matt had clearly not hit it off with on his last visit, was away from his desk, so Matt took a seat and waited for his return. With the door to his friend’s office closed, he was tempted to try the knob, but without any known friends in the building, he opted not to push his luck further than he already had.

When the admin turned the corner and saw Matt sitting there, he nearly dropped the cup of tea he was carrying. “Oh, it’s you,” he said.

Matt watched closely as the puzzlement in the young man’s face turned to irritation as he made his way to his desk. Matt had seen this reaction hundreds of times. Something was up. The admin seemed to be thinking on the fly, or at least trying to, as he struggled to come up with Matt’s unexpected appearance. Matt wouldn’t let on that he knew something was awry. He’d play the concerned friend from the States, there to try to find his friend.

Matt stood up, ready for Act One. He extended his hand. “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember your name.”

“It’s Jason, Jason Roberts. Didn’t know you were coming to visit Mr. Chaste? You weren’t on his schedule.”

“Ah, he must have let that slip,” Matt said casually. “I flew in last night and was hoping to catch him here. I’m just passing through this time, and I owe him a meal.”

Roberts stepped behind his desk and began shifting papers and report folders with nervous energy as if he’d only arrived at the office, when he’d clearly been here for hours. This is going to get interesting, Matt thought.

“You had a beard the last time you stopped in, didn’t you?” Roberts asked.

“Yep, but that’s long gone. Have you heard from Charlie, is he coming in today?” Matt asked.

“Not yet, Agent Christopher,” Roberts answered, then took a seat at his desk and reached for the phone. “Want me to give him a ring?”

“Matt, call me Matt,” he insisted. “We’re all friends here.” He paused. “Yes, please give him a call. But first, tell me where I can find the WC and the coffee maker?”

Roberts pointed. “Around the corner and just down the hall.”

Matt gave the admin a thumbs-up and then started in that direction, but turned around and came back a few seconds later, popping his head around the corner. Roberts wasn’t moving, phone in hand, staring into space as if trying to decide what to do.

“How do you take your tea?” Matt asked.

The admin jumped and blinked up at him, startled.

Matt laughed. “Dude, you need to get laid, or switch to decaf!”

Roberts put the phone back on the receiver, shook his head, and then picked it up again and hit a speed dial number. “Trying him now, Agent. Matt,” he corrected himself. “Ummm… I take my tea sweet, a little milk.”

When Matt returned with two hot drinks in hand, Roberts was standing inside Charlie’s office with a tall, older man dressed in a dark gray suit.

“Agent Christopher, please come in,” the man gestured.

Matt put both cups down on Charlie’s desk and extended his hand. “Matt Christopher, FBI and a good friend of our Charlie, and you are?”

“David Erickson,” he said as he shook Matt’s hand. “I’m with MI6, and I liaise shared activities and intel with Charlie on a frequent basis.”

“Funny,” Matt responded, “he never mentioned you.” Erickson seemed confused by the remark. Matt had baited him to see where he might take it.

“Consider me as sort of his Helene Coleman.”

Matt frowned, unsure what to make of the remark. Was this a dig or a warning signal… or something else entirely? Time would tell.

“My condolences on her passing,” Erickson said.

“Thank you. So, as I told Roberts here, I was in the area and stopped in to see Charlie. But it seems Roberts has lost track of him. Odd, don’t you think? I hope he’s not shacked up with one of his Thai masseuses again.”

The admin was shocked by the comment, but Erickson laughed. “Oh, Agent Christopher, we’re going to get along nicely. Yes, there seems to be an issue regarding his whereabouts.” He turned to Roberts. “Jason, you can leave us now.”

The younger man quickly excused himself and closed the door behind him. Erickson looked to Charlie’s leather chair but instead chose a seat on the well-worn cloth sofa near the wall.

“How many nights do you think he slept on that while he was on the hunt for something or someone?” Matt asked as he sat in the chair across from Erickson.

“Too many. But in the interest of time, we need to get down to it and sort a few things. Yes?”

Matt smiled and leaned forward. “Let’s do that,” he replied and then