The naked edge

10

Kim's knuckles whitened as she clutched the phone. All the while she listened, the shocked look on her face made Cavanaugh and Jamie remain absolutely still.

"Yes, Ali," she said. "Yes, I understand." She took a breath. "Nothing will help him, of course, but you're right-we need to do what we can."

She set down the phone.

"Another agent's been killed?" Cavanaugh asked.

"His family," Kim answered.

"His family?" Jamie looked stunned.

"Jim Driscoll. Word about what happened to his wife and child got around fast. Now our agents are calling their duty officers to say they're sick. We hear the same thing's happening with the U.S. Marshals, the Secret Service, and the Diplomatic Security Service. Only a few so far, but the trend's not hard to predict. Why should agents protect strangers when they themselves are the targets? And their loved ones. Those reporting for duty are either unmarried or else insisting on protection for their families while they're not home. They also want twice the operators they normally have on an assignment. The system's falling apart."

Kim nervously scratched her arms. Her brow glistened with sweat. Through the open bedroom door, she saw her gym bag on the living room floor. The bag of white pills was on it.

For a moment, Cavanaugh thought Kim would move toward it. His own move was toward the Global Protective Services information that she'd printed.

Continuing to stare toward the bag of pills, Kim asked, "You think this Carl Duran has something to do with what's happening?"

Cavanaugh took the pages from the printer's tray. He tried not to allow his emotions to tighten his voice. "At the moment, he's the only lead we have."

"Well, if you're willing to allow a doper to help-" Kim turned from staring at the pills. "-we'll all see if we notice anything."

They slid to the floor in the nearly bare room, their backs to a wall, reading the material: all of Carl Duran's assignments.

"Nothing about the clients he protected draws my attention," Cavanaugh noted.

"What about where the assignments took place?" Jamie asked.

They scanned the pages.

"Washington. New York. Paris. The same places I was usually assigned," Cavanaugh said. "Nothing suspicious."

"What about incidents on his assignments?" Kim asked. "I see there was something about a female rock star and an obsessive fan he stabbed."

"That's what got him fired."

"And here." Jamie pointed. "A client died on one of his assignments. A Russian oil tycoon."

"I heard about that, but I had no idea Carl worked on it." Frowning, Cavanaugh explained to Jamie, "It happened four years ago. The tycoon was in Rome, negotiating to lease oil tankers. He believed some of his Russian competitors were conspiring to have him killed. It turned out he was right. A sniper got him." Cavanaugh scanned another page. "Who was Carl's team leader?"

"And who were some of the other operators he worked with?" Kim drew a finger down a list. "Shit," she suddenly said.

"What?"

"Ali," Kim said. "Ali was the team leader when the tycoon was assassinated. That was before Ali got promoted to running our personnel department."

"That's not the only time Ali worked with Duran," Jamie said. "Here." She pointed toward the middle of a page. "And here." She pointed toward the top of another.

"And here," Kim said. "Duran and Ali worked together on several long assignments."

"The tycoon was hit by a rifle bullet that went through a window in his hotel suite," Jamie said, reading. "Ali was in the room with him, and then Duran hurried in from standing watch outside the suite."

"When an assignment ends that badly, we send an investigator to learn from our mistakes," Kim said. "The report concluded that nobody was at fault."

"Who ran the investigation?"

All three read the summary of the incident.

"Gerald Brockman," they said at once.

"Okay, okay, let's not jump to conclusions." Cavanaugh stared at the page. "These could all be coincidences. It doesn't mean something's wrong."

"Who else was on the team?" Kim asked. "Is there anyone we can ask who'll either confirm Brockman's report or insist it was a cover-up?"

"Four of them." Cavanaugh scanned the names, his stomach sinking as he read each of them. "Most are dead."

"What?" Jamie asked.

"Over the years, they-"

"Not most of them," Kim said. "I recognize these names. Leaving out Gerald, Ali, and Carl Duran, all the operators on that team are dead."

Kim hurried to the computer, set down the page she held, and typed names that were on it. She stared at the monitor. "One was shot on an assignment. The others… car crash, scuba accident, altitude sickness while climbing…"

"Mt. Everest," Cavanaugh said. "I was invited on that expedition. A job kept me from going. Carl went, though."

"Guy gets around," Jamie said.

"But if Carl was involved in a cover-up that Gerald and Ali were part of, Carl would never have allowed GPS to fire him," Cavanaugh said. "He'd have put so much pressure on Gerald and Ali, blackmailing them, that they'd have persuaded Duncan to let him stay."

"Good point." Kim scratched her arms.

"Are you okay?" Jamie asked.

"Couldn't be better." Kim's brow was beaded with sweat.

"Right. If you need it, chew more Oxy. This isn't the time to make another attempt at withdrawing."

"Just a little longer," Kim said. "When Duran was fired, Gerald was Duncan's second-in-command. He had the authority to stop Duran from being dismissed."

"But since Gerald didn't intervene, that suggests Carl didn't have any way to blackmail him," Jamie pointed out. "That leaves Ali. When was he promoted to running the personnel division?"

Kim's fingers tapped the keyboard. "A year after Duran was fired."

"He couldn't have suddenly demanded that Carl be rehired," Cavanaugh said. "It would have looked suspicious."

"But if Ali couldn't get Duran rehired, how else could Ali have been useful to him?"

"By giving Carl information about GPS assignments. We-"

A noise made Cavanaugh pause.

"What's the matter?" Jamie asked.

Cavanaugh glanced from the bedroom toward the front door.

The noise was repeated.

"Get down!"