The Hit

Chapter





46





ROBIE PARKED ACROSS FROM THE school and waited.

He had returned to the D.C. area, put his truck back in the barn at his isolated old farmhouse, and taken a cab to retrieve his car from the mall.

He hadn’t heard from Evan Tucker since he had left the IHOP.

He hadn’t heard from anyone since he’d left the IHOP.

He didn’t take that as a good sign.

But he hadn’t been arrested. He took that as a plus.

He stiffened when Julie came out of the school building and walked to the bus stop. He sat lower in his car and watched her.

She was dressed in her typical kneeless jeans and floppy hoodie and dirty sneakers and carried the same overstuffed backpack. She tucked her long hair behind her ears and stared around.

She wasn’t listening to her music on her phone.

She wasn’t texting.

She was being observant.

Good, thought Robie. You have to be, Julie.

The bus came and she got on. When it pulled off Robie follwed. He followed all the way until the bus stopped and Julie got off. Then he watched her make it safely into her home. When she walked inside and the door clicked behind her Robie drove away.

He knew he couldn’t do this every day. But right now he just wanted to keep Julie safe. He just wanted to be accomplishing something positive.

He stared down at his phone and decided to just do it. He hit his speed dial.

Two rings later she answered.

“Unbelievable,” said Nicole Vance. “Did you misdial?”

He ignored her sarcasm. “You have time to meet?”

“Why?”

“Just to talk.”

“You never want to just talk, Robie.”

“Today I do. If you don’t have time, no worries.”

“I can make seven o’clock, not before.”

They made arrangements to meet and Robie clicked off.

He had time to do something and he decided to take full advantage of it. He made another phone call and arranged to meet with the man.

He really didn’t know what to expect, but he felt it was the path of least resistance. And to the extent that he trusted anyone, he trusted this person.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting across from Blue Man.

“I understand that several days ago you waylaid the director while he was being driven to work,” Blue Man said.

“Is that the scuttlebutt here?”

“Is it true?”

“I needed some answers.”

“Did you get them?”

“No, that’s why I’m here.”

“This is all above my pay grade, Robie.”

“That’s not an excuse I can accept.”

Blue Man fiddled with his tie and wouldn’t make eye contact.

Robie said, “Are we being recorded here?”

“Probably.”

“Then we need to go somewhere else.”

“Another IHOP? I heard about that. It’s now the stuff of agency lore, in fact,” said Blue Man, and he wasn’t smiling.

“Let’s make it a Starbucks.”

Twenty minutes later they walked into the Starbucks, ordered, got their coffees from the barista, and sat down at a table outside that was well away from all the other coffee drinkers. The wind was picking up, but for once it wasn’t raining and the sky didn’t look overly threatening.

They sipped their coffees and Blue Man huddled in his trench coat. To Robie he looked like a banker out for a cup of expensive perked coffee beans. He didn’t seem like a man who made life-and-death decisions. Who dealt with issues of national security as readily as other people made choices for lunch.

Look who’s talking, Robie. You may not decide who lives or dies. But you actually pull the trigger.

Robie and Blue Man spent a silent minute looking around at people getting into and out of cars. Going into shops. Coming out with bags. Holding their kids’ hands.

Blue Man caught Robie’s eye.

“Ever miss it?”

“What?” asked Robie.

“Being part of the normal world.”

“Not sure I ever was.”

“I was an English lit major at Princeton. I wanted to be the William Styron or Philip Roth of my generation.”

“So what happened?”

“I went to a government recruitment session with a friend of mine who was interested in going to work for the FBI. There were some men there at a table with no sign on it. I stopped by to see who they were. Fast-forward well over thirty years and here I am.”

“Sorry you didn’t end up writing the great American novel?”

“Well, there’s some consolation. My world is full of fiction.”

“Lies, you mean.”

“A difference of no real distinction,” said Blue Man. He glanced at Robie’s arm and leg. “Have you been back in to get those looked at?”

“Not yet.”

“Do it. The last thing we need is you dying from an infection. Do it today. I’ll set it up. Same place as last time.”

“Okay. Any word on DiCarlo?”

Blue Man frowned. “I understand she has been taken under DHS’s jurisdiction.”

“That I know. Can you explain to me how that is possible? Because even Tucker wasn’t aware of that until I told him.”

“I’m not sure I can. Because I’m not sure I understand it either, Robie.”

“Is she alive?”

“I would think it inconceivable that DiCarlo would have died and we would not be informed.”

“What is DHS’s role in all this?”

“They protect the homeland. We, on the other hand, have no authority to operate in this country.”

“And that, as you well know, is a long-standing piece of fiction.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe it’s not anymore.”

Robie could see that Blue Man was serious. “That bad?”

“Apparently.”

“And the reason?”

“What did DiCarlo tell you that night? Why did she want to meet in the first place?”

“She only had two guards with her. What does that tell you?”

“She felt compromised inside her own agency?”

“Something like that.”

“What else?”

Robie drank some of his coffee. “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not unless there’s more.”

“Maybe I’m feeling compromised too.”

Blue Man looked away, his features unreadable. “I guess I can understand that.”

“Different dynamic, like you said.”

“The problem is if none of us trust each other the other side has already won.”

“That would be true, if we were sure who was on the other side.”

“Jessica Reel?” asked Blue Man.

“What about her?”

“Whose side is she on?”

“I’ll tell you what I told Gus Whitcomb. I think it was Reel who saved my ass and DiCarlo’s life.”

“I thought you were going to say that.”

Robie was surprised by this comment and his features showed it. “Why?”

“Because I think Jessica Reel might be on our side.”

“And yet she’s killed two of our people.”

“Follow that out logically, Robie.”

“So you’re saying that Jacobs and Gelder were not on our side.” Reel had called them traitors, and Robie was surprised to see that Blue Man was entertaining this possibility. He was usually an agency man through and through.

“That’s right. If Reel is actually on our side.”

“And you’re saying that’s true?”

“I’m saying it’s possible.”

“Then the number two at the agency is a traitor?”

“Possibly. But then a traitor can have many different definitions. And agendas.”

“Who else thinks this?”

“I haven’t talked to anyone other than you about it. If you hadn’t suggested leaving the office I was going to. These are not statements I make lightly, Robie. I hope you know that. This is probably not a lone turncoat who does it for money like Aldrich Ames or Robert Hanssen. This might be systemic, and I don’t think the motivation is simply money.”

“So if they are traitors, who were they working for? And what were they working on? And how did Reel find out?”

“All good questions, and I have no answers for you.”

“And DHS’s involvement?”

“Others must suspect there’s a problem. They might have taken DiCarlo for safekeeping.”

“And Evan Tucker?”

“He must be a very worried man about now. Did you tell him about Reel being at DiCarlo’s?”

Robie nodded.

Blue Man took a long drink of coffee. “Then he’s probably more worried than I thought.”

“You heard about Roy West?”

Blue Man nodded. “Apparently he went way off the grid and into the world of paranoid lunacy.”

“He was an analyst. What exactly did he analyze?”

“Why do you want to know? You don’t think it has anything to do with—”

“I can’t afford to discount anything right now.”

“He was nothing special. Had a rep for writing nonsense scenario papers. Probably why he was let go. I don’t see how he plays into this.”

Robie wanted to tell him exactly how West and Reel played into this, but he didn’t. “Tucker wanted me to keep going after Reel.”

“And what did you say to that?”

“I said no.”

“No one will ever have to tell you to grow a pair, Robie.”

“The question is, what do I do now?”

“You did not hear this from me,” replied Blue Man.

“Okay.”

“If I were Will Robie, I would think about going off the grid.”

“And do what?”

“Find Jessica Reel. And if you do, you might just find all the answers.”

I did find her, Robie thought. And I let her go.

Blue Man finished his coffee and rose. “And then you can do something else, Robie.”

Robie looked up at him. “What’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You can thank Reel for saving your life.”

After Blue Man walked off, Robie muttered, “Too late. I already returned the favor.”