CHAPTER 93
WE WERE BACK at the field office by eight the next morning. Several of the agents looked
a little messed up after the night off. First thing, Director Burns was on the line from
Washington. I was pretty sure the director rarely, if ever, spoke to the troops like this. So why
do it now? What was up?
Agents around the room were looking at one another. Brows crinkled, eyebrows arched. No
one could fathom why Burns was so involved. Maybe I could. I’d seen the restlessness in
him, the dissatisfaction with the ways of the past, even if he couldn’t effectively change them
all at once. Burns had started as a street cop in Philadelphia and worked his way up to police
commissioner. Maybe he could change things at the Bureau.
“I wanted to explain what happened yesterday,” he said over the speakerphone. Every agent
in the room listened intently, myself included. “And I also wanted to apologize to all of you.
Everything got territorial for a while. The Dallas police, the mayor, even the governor of
Texas was involved. The Dallas police asked that we pull back because they didn’t have full
confidence in us. I agreed to the action because I wanted to talk it through with them rather
than force our presence there.
“They didn’t want mistakes, and they weren’t sure that we have the right man. The Lipton
family has a good reputation in the city. He’s very well connected. Anyway, Dallas was
surprised that we listened to their concerns and now they’ve backed off again. They respect
the team we’ve assembled.
“We will continue our action against Lawrence Lipton, and believe me, we’re going to take
that bastard down. Then we’re going to take Pasha Sorokin down, the Wolf. I don’t want you
to worry about past mistakes. Don’t worry about mistakes at all. Just do your job in Dallas. I
have the utmost confidence in you.”
Burns went off the line, and just about every agent’s face in the room wore a smile. It was
quite magical, actually. The director had said things that some of them had been waiting
years to hear; especially welcome was the news that he believed in their ability and wasn’t
worried about mistakes. We were back in the game; we were expected to bring down
Lawrence Lipton.
Minutes after the phone call ended, my cell went off. I answered, and it was Burns himself.
“So how’d I do?” he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice. I could also almost see the
cocky upturn of his lip when he grinned. He knew how he’d done.
I walked away from the group into a far corner of the room and told him what he wanted to
hear. “You did good. They’re pumped to do the job.”
Burns exhaled. “Alex, I want you to turn up the heat on this punk. I sold you hard to Dallas
as a key member of the team. They bought you, and your reputation. They know how good
we think you are. I want you to make Lawrence Lipton very uncomfortable. Do it your own
way.”
I found myself smiling. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“And Alex, contrary to what I said to the others, don’t make any mistakes.”
The Big Bad Wolf
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