"They're a Hydra, with more heads than we know about," I said. "What about Owen Lynch?"
"Lynch's power is more concentrated, and more narrowly focused. Taking him down is different in that he isn't worried about money or traditional things like that. He just wants control and power. Which kind of makes sense. I mean, seriously, after the first couple of million, what is more money to a man like him? If you can buy three Ferraris, who cares about being able to buy a Bentley as well? He uses his money like we are, using it to finance power. The Confederation though, with so many players, has to care about money more, and has more little things like this."
"So what are we going to do?" I asked. Mark clicked on the file on Pressman Contractors, reading what he had gathered. "What is Pressman?"
"On one hand, they're a pretty typical money laundering front, using construction contracts to filter Confederation money in and out of circulation. They've got the receipts here to back that up, the bank transfers and other stuff. This is full of second level connections that I'm going to need weeks to fully analyze, with all these companies. But there's a few other things here that concern me."
"How so?" I asked, looking over his shoulder still at the spreadsheet on the screen. It looked a lot like a normal accounting spreadsheet to me.
"This accounting code," Mark said, tapping one of the cells, "is the same one that Sal Giordano used with me when he hired me out for contracts. I don't think that Pressman has another hitman working for it, I knew that group very well. It pays to know the men who might be putting a bullet in your back. But that doesn't mean that there isn't some other sort of Confederation operative working for Pressman."
"Like what?" I asked, finally taking a seat and looking at the screen, my imagination whirling.
"Oh, there are all sorts of different operatives. A place like this would be a good place to stash an arsonist, a bomber, drug maker, burglar, spy, quite a few different jobs. They'd have access to buildings, deeper than a lot of others go, and they don't look out of place carrying tools and weird bundles of stuff."
I shook my head in amazement. "And you knew the Confederation had these sorts of men."
"And more, my love. Why else am I taking so many precautions with our own actions?" Mark replied. "Well, we know what we have to do now."
"What's that?" I asked, as Mark shut down the computer and unplugged it from it's monitor and keyboard.
"We have to go down there, see if we can get eyes on someone, maybe figure out what is going on. You think Sophie Warbird and Marcus Smiley might be up for a weekend visit to our most recent potential investment?"
"Why not wait until Monday?" I asked as he sat back. We faced each other, and I could tell that Mark was nervous. "Come on, talk to me."
"I'm concerned that the Confederation may be making the same connections that I'm sure Owen Lynch is doing," Mark replied after a moment. "They know that coming after Marcus Smiley directly creates too much danger to their operations, but by putting out these sorts of poisoned pills, these land mines if you can think of it that way, they can derail us without risk of exposing themselves. I want to go down there today for two reasons.
First, they won't know we're coming, so they can't be prepared. If we call Tabby and go down there Monday, they'll know it and be prepared, giving us a whole dog and pony show that will surely be ninety-nine percent bullshit. We go down there today, and we might learn something."
"What's your other reasons?" I asked. "You said first as if you had others."
Mark nodded. "Yes. Tabby. You saw the way she acted the other day, I'm sure."
"Of course. We even joked about it."
"I remember. Sophie, what concerns me is if there is a connection between this guy that Tabby met, and Pressman Contractors. If there is, and they know who you and I are, then Tabby may have gotten herself into trouble again."
"Oh God," I moaned, standing up. "We should call her."
Mark stood up and took my hands. "No, there's no reason to panic," he said, giving me a reassuring look. "First of all, we don't know for sure. Also, even in Confederation companies, a lot of the workers are just ordinary people who are making a living. Only a small percentage are the real criminals. Finally, if they are trying to use Tabby to get to me, they're playing a long ball game. They know it didn't work before when they rushed it. Their most likely plan is to try and use her as a blind mole, someone who funnels them information on our operations without ever knowing they are doing what they're doing. She's not in immediate physical danger."
I felt Mark pull me into an embrace, and I relaxed, letting my tension flow into him. "Okay," I said after I was calm. Actually, I was a bit more than calm, but that's normal every time Mark hugs me. "So we go down there, and what do we do?"