“Let me rephrase the question,” I say. “Who was your mole in Vonnegut’s Order?” He or she couldn’t have been very good since they’re still searching for Vonnegut.
“We don’t have an agreement yet, Mr. Faust,” Barrett says, smirking. “We’re not at liberty to give you that information. Not even with an agreement.”
I look to Connors, the most accommodating of the six.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Faust,” Connors says with regret, “but we can’t reveal that operative’s identity. I’m sure you can understand. And he or she is still in The Order, so you have nothing to worry about anymore.”
I look at Mark Masters. “And do you have anything to say about this?” I ask him. “You’ve been awfully quiet; though not as quiet as those two.” I nod toward the two men who haven’t said a word other than their names since they sat down: Ryan Miller is the balding one; David Darros is the one with the German accent.
“I agree with them,” Mark Masters says, eyeing me intensely. “I don’t care who you are, or what you want as part of the deal—we’re not giving up the identity of our mole.”
Without a word, I look back down into the files and then I begin to read to myself. Everything. And as I’m filing it all away in my memory, I also file away my own profiles of the men who wish to partner with me:
Dan Barrett – He’s playing the ‘bad cop’; intimidation is his tool; he wants to make me feel like I should agree to work with them, that if I don’t they’ll bring me down, all without resorting to outright threats. But Dan Barrett, just like almost every other man on his side of the table, desperately wants my cooperation and is not likely to ‘turn me in’ if I refuse their offer; he needs me and would just send in another mole to replace Flynn to watch me. He believes I am the key to bringing down one of the most wanted men in the world; me being behind bars, or on death row would do nothing to help him.
Barry Connors – He’s playing the ‘good cop’; pretending to bond with me so that I feel like I can trust him. But I trust him no more or less than I do the others sitting next to him. He wants what Dan Barrett wants, and he is willing to do whatever he has to in order to get it.
Kenneth Ware – He’s one of the most transparent men in the room; his fascination with Gustavsson easily gives him away. I guarantee he has a Ph.D. in Psychology and probably has a favorite serial killer. Ware is the least of my concerns—he’s got blood in his eyes, and though he might not be a killer himself, blood is an addictive and seductive color to people like Ware and Gustavsson, and he is not likely to turn away from it.
Mark Masters – He’s the other transparent one, only he does give me reason for concern. Masters is a just man dedicated to his job, wants nothing more than to put every kind of criminal away for life and get them off the streets. But he’s a high stakes player, dealing with worldwide criminals; he might have been a cop or even an FBI agent at some point in his life, but it wasn’t enough; might have pushed pencils for the CIA for years working his way up to this position. He wants justice—perhaps a family member was murdered and everyone needs to atone—and I believe he’s willing to tolerate me long enough to bring Vonnegut down, but after that, I have no doubt he will come after me and everyone in my Order. But men like Masters are often too blinded by revenge, too impatient for their own good, and they tend to get themselves killed in the line of duty. I hope that is what happens so I don’t have to be the one to kill him later—he probably is a good man, and while I don’t particularly care to kill good people, I will if I have to.
Ryan Miller and David Darros, not having said anything to give me as much insight on them, still fit into a profile. Miller is new to all of this; he lacks confidence, doesn’t look as in control as the other men; swallows a lot; can’t sit still and constantly touches his suit as if it will distract him from his own discomfort provoked by a lack of experience; he can’t look me in the eye, and the one time he did, he actually smiled as though he were new to the class and hoped to make a friend. David Darros, on the other hand, is looking me in the eyes right now and he doesn’t want any friends; he’s calm and collected, is very confident in his suit, knows his way around and has far too much experience to be uncomfortable. In ways, Darros is a lot like me. I just wonder how much.