“Just drive.”
No words were exchanged while they left the lot, because Suzanne’s focus was on evaluating Mayes’s condition, but as soon as the BMW began heading east on Dolley Madison Boulevard, she knew she needed to hear what he had to say, because she had other things to deal with. “I am heading into the District. One of Dakota’s men is sitting on a house where a possible sighting was called in. I was trying to find you because I wanted you to come along, anyway. What is it you need to tell me?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, she looked at him. His head lolled a little to one side, then popped back up. Catherine was sure now that the number two man in the National Clandestine Service was drunk.
Mayes spoke softly. “He’s using a foreign kill squad.”
“What? Who is?”
“Carmichael.”
Suzanne Brewer did not speak for a moment. She realized she didn’t want to hear any more, but she also realized there was no way she could shut Mayes down. She asked, “What makes you think this?”
Mayes’s head lolled over in her direction now, and he said, “Because he told me!”
“Christ,” she whispered. “Who are they?”
“They are Saudis. Working for Murquin al-Kazaz.” Now he looked up at Brewer with suspicion. “You knew! Did you know?”
“Of course not. The JSOC team leader asked me who else was involved. He had some suspicions, so that made me wonder. But I knew better than to bring it up with Denny.” She shrugged. “Or you, for that matter.”
Jordan Mayes shrugged. “Good for you. I didn’t know better. I confronted him when I saw the video.”
“What video?”
“Saudi gunmen in D.C. police uniforms at the Dupont Metro.”
Suzanne knew nothing about such a recording. “Where is this video now?”
“Morvay in SIGINT has it. He showed me. He took it off of Andy Shoal’s e-mail account.”
Brewer’s stomach turned. She grabbed onto the wheel as hard as she could. She closed her eyes slowly for a moment while she drove, then she opened them again. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Andy Shoal was murdered two hours ago.”
Jordan Mayes looked at her, then he dropped his head into his hands, doubling over in the seat. “He’ll kill me, too.”
“Carmichael? Don’t be ridiculous. Odds are it was Violator who killed Shoal. He was out looking for more evidence in the assassinations.”
“Bullshit. I doubt Gentry has killed anybody this week. Sure, Brandywine Street and the Easy Market, those were him. The rest were either Hightower or the Saudis.” He looked at Suzanne, terror in his eyes. “It’s all a big wall of fun-house mirrors, Suzanne. Denny is controlling it all, but it’s gotten too big for him to manage. He’ll have to kill me to protect himself now.”
Suzanne still didn’t believe there was any chance Denny Carmichael would kill Jordan Mayes, and she told him so.
“You don’t know everything I know, Suzanne.”
“You just told me. Or have you forgotten?”
“What I just told you barely scratches the surface of what’s been going on.”
Suzanne Brewer slowed her BMW, and then she pulled into a convenience store right before the on-ramp onto the George Washington Parkway. Here she bought Mayes a large black coffee.
Five minutes later the two of them sat parked under a streetlight in the parking lot at Fort Marcy Park, just off the parkway. There wasn’t a single other vehicle in sight.
“I want you to tell me everything, Jordan.”
“You aren’t cleared for everything.”
“If you really feel Carmichael might come after you, does it scare you that you are the only one who knows?”
This sank in a moment. Mayes took a gulp of molten coffee. “Okay. I’ll tell you. But then we go to Justice with this. I’m not going down on a sinking ship.”
Suzanne said, “And neither am I. If what you tell me warrants it, you’re damn right we’re going to DOJ.”
Mayes nodded, relaxed markedly, and said, “Do you know anything about Operation BACK BLAST?”
Suzanne Brewer shook her head. “Never heard of it.”
So Jordan Mayes told her.
66