WASHINGTON, DC
It was just after eight a.m. when Olsen walked into the townhouse.
The moment he entered their shared office, Peter jumped up. “I’m glad you’re here. I was just about to call you.”
Olsen laid his briefcase on his desk. “Did something happen?”
“They have her.”
Olsen froze. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. One of my teams tracked her down in Switzerland about four hours ago.”
“Four hours?”
“I didn’t know myself until just before you arrived. Apparently there was a bit of a dustup, and they weren’t able to contact me right away. The good news is, in the middle of it all, they were able to sneak her on a plane. She’s on her way here now.”
“Wait, what? Here? No. We don’t want her here.”
“I already okayed the order to do that in the event she was caught.”
“I never gave you permission for that!”
“Your instructions, Mr. Olsen, were to make sure we had her this time, that there were to be no ‘fuckups.’ ”
“That has nothing to do with bringing-”
“That has everything to do with bringing her here. I want to see her right in front of me. I want to take a sample of her DNA and her prints, and I want to prove beyond a doubt that the woman we have in custody is Mila Voss. I thought you wanted the same thing.”
“We can’t have her here,” Olsen insisted.
“It won’t be for long. I’ve routed the plane to a private strip about thirty miles northeast of here in Virginia. No one is even going to know she’s in the country. We’ll put her on a second plane that’ll be standing by, and process her. You just tell me where you want her flown after we’ve got what we need, and that’s where she’ll go.”
Olsen mulled over the plan, then said, “All right, all right. We can make that work. It’s actually not a bad idea.”
“Thanks,” Peter said, not hiding his annoyance.
“I’ll have to run it by the senator and Mr. Green, but unless you hear from me otherwise, it’s a go.”
“If it is, I assume you’ll want to be there, too.”
“Absolutely.”
The neutral look on Peter’s face remained unchanged, but inside he cracked a smile.