Pine awoke with a jolt late the following morning and jumped out of bed ready to hit the ground running, her heart racing and her nerves at their highest level. She tottered there for an instant before thinking, What the hell are you doing? Calm down.
She made some coffee and thought about the call from Puller the night before. It sounded like he had the assets to get this done, and now they just needed a location to strike. She checked her phone to see if by any miracle either Blum or Robert Puller had phoned or texted her while she had been asleep. They hadn’t.
There was a text from Clint Dobbs acknowledging receipt of her scanned affidavit. He also added that the ball was rolling, that he had a strategy, and that the Bureau was fully mobilized on this. She was to follow up on any leads she had and relay any progress to both him and Graham.
She let out a long sigh. She had never liked Clint Dobbs all that much. But she did trust the man. He could not be bought, not by anyone.
She spooned some yogurt into her mouth and chomped down on a piece of toast. Then she showered, got dressed, and gunned up. She raced down to the garage, got into her car, and drove off.
Pine was sick of reacting to other people’s moves.
It was time to take the fight to them.
She drove straight to Nora Franklin’s office building and found a parking spot on the street. She knew she would need luck to help her at this juncture. If the woman had gone back to DC or to her office in upstate New York, Pine was screwed.
A half hour later the law enforcement gods answered the call.
A cab pulled up in front of the federal building and Nora Franklin got out and walked inside.
Pine immediately went to the same café where Blum had set up her surveillance.
A light rain had started to fall and the sky was darkening quickly.
She got a seat by the window and stayed there, sipping on a coffee and nibbling on a tuna sandwich. After three hours, one of the employees asked if she needed anything else. The clear implication was for her to leave, though the place was by no means full. Pine ordered another coffee and a bag of chips.
As Pine sat there she suddenly thought of something, maybe a way to get where they needed to go. She pulled out Warren Graham’s card and called his cell. He answered on the second ring.
She told him where she was and what her plan was.
“That’s risky, Pine, very risky. It could turn out disastrous.”
“As disastrous as losing two of our finest, sir?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment while Pine held her breath.
“Do it, Pine. And don’t screw it up.” He gave her a phone number to call when she accomplished her mission. Then he clicked off. Pine could feel the tension in the ether. If they blew this, she, Graham, and everyone associated with this investigation were history. The bad guys would win and America would be done.
At seven o’clock, with the rain ever increasing and the gloom of night falling, Nora Franklin finally came out of the building, a slim leather briefcase tapping against her leg. She must have called an Uber because a Prius pulled up in front of the building right as she came out. She got in and the Prius drove off.
Pine had already gone to her car and now followed her. The Prius drove to a restaurant in midtown Manhattan, and Franklin exited the car and walked into the place.
Pine made the driver of a town car move out of his parking spot by flashing her FBI badge. She pulled into the spot and waited.
Dobbs texted her twenty minutes later to tell her of the latest steps the Bureau had taken. She texted him back and told him what she was doing.
His next text was enlightening.
Dozens of search warrants about to be executed. Wiretaps already in place for Franklin et al. This thing is about to explode.
She texted back, First time I’ve smiled in a long time, sir.
Pine put her phone away, got out, and walked past the plate glass window of the restaurant. She couldn’t see Franklin. She chanced walking in and looking around. There she was in the back, talking to a man Pine didn’t recognize. Too bad. If it had been Gorman, Pine would have arrested him on the spot.
She went back out and got into her car.
At a little after nine Franklin came back out and hailed a cab. Pine followed.
They made their way south, down the West Side Highway, until the car turned left and navigated toward Greenwich Village, with its historic, high-dollar houses, oddly angled streets, and reputation as one of the most expensive zip codes in the area.
Old. Prestigious. And isolated, well, as much as it could be in New York City. Small-town feel. Locally owned restaurants. With fifty-dollar entrees and twenty-dollar cocktails.
The cab stopped in front of a four-story stone beauty with twin flickering gas lanterns bordering the blue painted front door with a brass knocker. It was attached to another stately home, though that house seemed to be vacant and undergoing renovation. Spend a fortune to buy an old house here and spend a second fortune making it livable, thought Pine.
Must be nice.
The old brick steps leading up to Franklin’s house were bracketed by ornate wrought iron railings. The place looked old but had obviously been meticulously restored.
Pine wedged into a parking spot as the door on the cab opened and Franklin got out. The cab pulled away and Franklin headed up the steps. She never heard Pine until she was right behind her.
“Security team have the night off?” Pine said.
Franklin whirled around. Pine could see a small canister held in her hand.
“Pepper spray?” said Pine. “It’s legal here so long as you buy it from an authorized source and fill out the necessary paperwork, which, being such a VIP, I’m sure you had a flunky do for you.”
“Who the hell are you?” snapped Franklin, looking around as though hoping to see a passing police car.
Pine held out her badge and creds. “FBI Special Agent Atlee Pine. I need to speak with you.”
Franklin’s eyes had widened when she heard the name.
“Right,” said Pine. “I was pretty sure you’d been kept in the loop on me. I suppose Gorman did the honors.”
“If you want to meet with me, call my office and make an appointment. But I have to tell you it won’t be happening anytime soon. I’m a very busy woman, Agent Pine.”
“Oh, I know you are. Serving two or more masters instead of only one must really eat into your free time.”
Franklin smiled politely. “I have no idea what that remark means, but it sounds like it’s dangerously close to a slander action. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
Instead, Pine drew closer. “The problem for you is Gorman screwed up. He kidnapped people, one of whom works for the FBI. I know you have pull, but I doubt it’s enough to overcome that one.”
“I really have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You won’t deny that Gorman works for you?”
“Of course not. Adam has been with me a long time. He’s the best in the business.”
“Yes. But the business he’s in is illegal. Blackmailing people in positions of power? Murder, kidnapping? That’ll get you a long time in prison. Far longer than the time you’ve served in Congress.”
For the first time Pine could see just the glimmer of panic in the woman’s green eyes.
A group of young people with NYU sweatshirts trooped around the corner. They had obviously been drinking and they hooted and waved stupidly at the pair.
Pine glanced at the front door and said, “Maybe this would be better conducted inside?”
Franklin glanced at the students. She said nothing but pulled out her key and unlocked the door, beckoning Pine to follow her in.