The Hunted

18

Hector DeSantos and Brian Archer walked the circular path across from the inscribed black granite walls of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Between them was Director Knox, a brimmed hat deflecting the drizzle that fell from threatening skies.

“I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement on this,” Knox was saying. “Let me reiterate that there never was an attempt to keep you men in the dark.”

“We understand, sir,” DeSantos said. “Communication is vital to what we do. When we felt we’d only received half the message, we were… concerned.”

Knox stopped and faced DeSantos. “I know you, Hector. You felt betrayed.”

“Yes, sir,” DeSantos said.

“And you, Brian, you were trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Well, you’ll have your pieces. As we get them, not days later this time. Agreed?”

Archer and DeSantos nodded.

“There’s something else.” Knox hesitated a moment before continuing. “I’ve been thinking this may be the end of my… involvement with OPSIG.”

“Any particular reason?” DeSantos asked.

“Nothing I care to discuss.” Knox glanced over his shoulder at the security-detail agents leaning against a sedan. “Let’s just say it’s a personal decision.”

“Then it’s going to be a sad day, sir, when this assignment is over,” Archer said.

“I just thought you two should know.”

“What about the others?”

“They’ll all be told, in time.”

The three of them stood there for a long moment looking at each other, the rain whipping against their coats, the cold air snaking around their exposed necks. It was an awkward moment, one where there should have been more emotion evident. But they were professionals, and their silence said enough.

Finally, DeSantos broke in. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

They shook Knox’s hand and the man was off into the wind, which was blowing rain straight at him. He disappeared under the watchful eye of his security detail into his black sedan.

DeSantos looked at Archer. “Well?”

Archer’s jaw moved furiously as he chomped on his piece of Juicy Fruit and considered DeSantos’s question. “I think it’s really sad. I mean, it’s like losing a brother. Knox has been with us since—”

“I mean about Scarponi.”

“Oh.” Archer sighed. “I think the guy’s out of his mind if he thinks he can threaten the director and not have serious heat come down on him.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he is out of his mind. Or maybe he feels like he doesn’t have anything to lose.”

Archer shook his head. “Knox is still keeping something from us. I’m not sure what, though. You?”

DeSantos nodded. “Yeah. It’s not all adding up.” He stuck his hand into his pocket and felt a piece of paper Knox had palmed him when they shook. “With these INFOSEC pass codes he gave us, we’ve got access to just about any U.S. intelligence network we could want. I say we get started.”

Archer turned and they began to walk back to their car. “I think we have to look at it one of two ways. Either there’s nothing to be found, or he’s purposely making us work for our information.”

DeSantos chewed his bottom lip. “Something else is going on. For whatever reason, Knox isn’t making it easy.”

Just then, Archer’s phone vibrated. “Man, I hate putting these things on vibrate. Scare the shit out of me every time.” He pulled it off his belt and checked the number.

“Maggie loves mine. She clips it to the front of her pants and then calls herself.”

“You guys are the kinkiest couple I’ve ever known.”

DeSantos pulled down on the bill of his baseball hat to prevent the increasing rain from blowing in his face, then nodded at Archer’s phone. “What’s up?”

“Trish was having some cramping this morning. She wants me to meet her at the OB’s office. That was my reminder.”

“When you’re married, that phone becomes a ball and chain, man.”

Archer smiled. “For you, that must mean a hell of a good time in bed.”