Nick held out his hand again. “Formula please, Kabong.”
John handed him a bottle from the instrument tray with a large eyedropper top, and Clorox marked in black felt marker on the front label. Nick then used the eyedropper to dribble Clorox bleach into the open wound. By the time Nick finished covering the wound, no doubt remained as to whether Pence would help or not. In the next fifteen minutes, Didricson between cries of utter agony, explained every step to take in order to retrieve the drive. Instead of going on, Nick called Paul immediately after, leaving Pence to writhe on the gurney.
“What’s that noise,” Paul asked.
“Oh… sorry. Wait one.” Nick moved away from Pence. “I found out exactly how to retrieve the drive Didricson is blackmailing the DOJ with. I know better than to hand it over to those boobs. Each of these steps must be followed precisely, or it triggers the release of materials. I’d tell you who, but Pence hired an anonymous contractor.”
“Maybe he does know, and you haven’t found the right method to get the name.”
“Did you just insult me?” Nick glanced on the other side of the room where Didricson screamed and begged to be able to tell everything he knew.
Paul chuckled. “I’ll get this done right now. Do you need confirmation?”
“Absolutely. My informant is anxious to help, and I don’t want to let him go until I know he hasn’t made any mistakes in explaining this to me.”
“One hour. Thanks, Nick.”
Nick rejoined his companions. By then, Pence had stopped screaming, and began sobbing unintelligible mutterings. Nick washed the wound off, and applied an analgesic from the tray in a thick salve over the open wound. The effect of greatly reduced pain brought Didricson out of his ravings. He gasped short aching breaths after his extended screaming session. Nick leaned over him and waved.
“Hi Pence. Have I made it plain how important it is for you to help me undo all your nasty complications and traitorous deeds?”
“Yes…yes… anything! Just ask… but at least give me enough time to answer… please!”
“Sure, buddy. The first question is do you know Uthman Sadun?”
“Yes! His lawyer contacts me regularly. Sadun was one of my biggest bidders before our mole in the DOJ was discovered. Lately, he’s been in touch with a billionaire… uh… Formsby… Milton Formsby. Formsby was paying big money to find out the identity of the man who had recovered the chip I stole. Sadun told Formsby the name, because the same guy caught him. From what Sadun’s lawyer told me, Formsby suspected the man to be a hired assassin, using a weird deep cover identity as a writer. Formsby was under investigation by the CIA for aiding and abetting terrorists. He wanted information on the writer’s personal dealings without being tied in any way to the information gathering. I went to Pacific Grove, and found out everything about him. I thought Formsby was nuts.”
“Let me get this straight, Pence. You trailed this guy yourself?” No way in hell did this idiot get on my trail without me knowing it, Nick thought. If he did, I’m getting the hell out of the business.
“No… Formsby was right. I waited outside his home after he walked his daughter to school with another guy and their dog. When he returned, there was something creepy about him. He seemed to feel me watching him. I started the car, and drove away before the asshole could focus on me. I turned over what I had to Formsby, and told him he’d have to do the rest himself.”
Nick remembered numerous instances where he did his usual scanning for strange vehicles because of a feeling he had. At least you haven’t lost your damn edge completely, Nick decided. “Give me the lawyer’s name, Pence – the one Sadun uses as a go between. I also need to know where you normally meet the guy, and where he lives.”
Nick held a glass with a straw for Didricson to sip water. “Think carefully. Don’t spew a bunch of crap on a whim. We have your phone, so I’ll check your contact list.”
After sipping the water thirstily, Didricson nearly choked, sputtering out denials of ever having any intention of stalling or misleading. “His name is Brook Wargul. He has an office in San Francisco, and another in Washington, DC. Since Sadun is being held at the Federal Penitentiary at Atwater, Wargul’s been staying in California at his SF office.”
Satisfied with the threads Pence gave him, Nick ordered him to speak freely, concerning when he began selling secrets, his motives, and everyone connected to his subversive lifestyle. “Just talk Pence as if you were writing your autobiography of being a traitor.”
Another half hour passed, where Pence finished, and Nick waited for confirmation from his boss. He answered the call on the first ring. “I was beginning to get worried, pal.”