Payback

91

As most Deep Black missions progressed, Rubens began to lose track of the time. The rhythm of his days — meetings, conferences, meals — gradually fell by the wayside as he spent more and more time in the Art Room. There always came a point when he had no idea what time of day it was. Often, he lost track of the day as well. So he wasn’t terribly surprised when Kevin Montblanc stuck his head in his office and said good morning.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“I suppose I would,” Rubens told the Desk Three operations personnel director.

“Good, because I brought you some.”

The coffee was freshly made and very strong. Rubens felt his sinuses tingle as he took a sip.

“You really should be getting more rest,” suggested Montblanc.

“I suppose I will in a few days. What’s on your mind?”

Montblanc’s mustache drooped slightly. “Ambassador Jackson. He was holding something back during the interviews.”

Rubens put his coffee down. Jackson was about two hours from touching down in Lima.

“What did he lie about?” asked Rubens.

“I don’t know that he lied. But there certainly was anxiety around his son’s death.”

“You’re a psychologist, Kevin — wouldn’t you expect that?”

“Yes, but—”

“But what?”

“He’s living in a bare-bones apartment. He doesn’t even own the condominium. He’s renting it.”

“I hardly think that’s a crime. He and his wife were never very well off. And he’s paying his son’s medical debts.”

“Yes, and that’s admirable. But why is he doing that?”

“Out of a sense of responsibility, I would imagine.”

“Or guilt. His son died under suspicious circumstances. Apparently the young man was in the hospital receiving treatment when he died of an overdose of drugs.”

“Suicide?”

“He was in a coma. The death was highly suspicious. At best, it’s euthanasia.”

“Were there charges?”

“No. Not even a grand jury. No publicity, either.”

Montblanc didn’t say anything else, but the implication seemed clear to Rubens — he thought there might have been some sort of local cover-up, possibly because Jackson had been an ambassador. In the scandal-averse culture of the NSA, a situation like this was almost always grounds for disqualifying a candidate for a sensitive job.

It was too late for that, wasn’t it? And it was Rubens’ fault and his alone.

“Investigate everything that needs to be investigated,” said Rubens. “Put it on the highest priority. Do it yourself if you have to. And let me know what you find out as quickly as you can.”