CHAPTER FIVE
“You look like shit.”
Faith glared at Michael across the table of the café. “Fuck you very much.”
“I say that with love. You know that.”
She sipped her coffee and said, “Yeah, well, you should work on things like, ‘I’m so sorry for you, Faith’ ‘Whatever you need from me, Faith’ ‘This really sucks, Faith.’”
“Yeah, well, all of that is true, and it’s also true that you look like shit. Are you eating?”
“Are you my mother?”
“That’s a no. I’m ordering us some food. You will eat some.”
“Is this how you talk to your agents?”
“Yep. Give Chavez a call sometime. She’d love to tell you all about how annoying I am.”
Turk nudged Michael and looked up at his eyes needily. Michael chuckled and began scratching him behind the ear, earning a half-lidded rumble of appreciation from the German Shepherd. “I’ll get some for you too, boy.”
“Can you order it to go?” Faith asked. “I want to get as much of the drive done at night as possible.”
“I was thinking we would fly,” Michael said.
She closed her eyes. “Right. Sorry. That makes more sense.”
“Yeah, you definitely need to eat. I have the tickets already. The soonest flight to Oklahoma City is in three hours. We fly out of Dulles. We have time to eat food, drive to the airport, and get to the gate. Don’t worry.”
She glared at him.
“Yeah, that was stupid,” he said. “Worry, but trust that we’re doing everything we can to help David.” He scanned the QR code on the little plastic stand on their table and started entering a food order.
“Have you learned anything about the records center?” Faith asked.
Michael sighed as he tapped his order into his phone.
“I don’t have an exact location for the records center yet, but it looks like the 93rd is clearing out of Quantico or preparing to clear out.
My source on the base says he saw trucks leaving Quantico.
There’s still a staff SUV there and a sedan, but he’s ninety percent sure the dogs are gone. ”
Faith frowned. “You don’t think they’re taking them to where David is right now, do you?”
“It’s possible. Likely, even. That supports the informant’s claim that the records center is the new base of operations for the unit.”
Faith sighed. “Shit. If he sees Sierra there, he’s going to try to rescue her.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ll have to hope the guy he’s with can keep him under control.”
Faith scoffed. “The guy he’s with poisoned him and kidnapped him. I don’t think he’s exactly our best friend.”
“He’s on the same side. That’s good enough for now.”
“Is he on the same side?” Faith asked. “Or is he a plant by the 93rd so they can figure out how many people know about their project and arrange for us all to die?”
Michael shook his head. “Definitely not a plant. The CIA does things like that, but not in situations like this. If they wanted to kill David, they’d just kill him.”
“They’ve tried to kill him, remember?”
Michael slumped. “Right.”
Faith sighed and got to her feet, arms crossed. She didn’t think she was going to be able to eat any of the pizza.
“Hang in there, Faith,” Michael suggested.
“I swear to God, I’ll hurt you if you say that again.”
Before Michael could reply, Faith’s phone rang. When she saw Smythe’s number, her heart dropped to her feet. She answered, and Smythe said, “I have another case for you.”
Most of the time, Faith was able to be tactful, especially with the Director of the FBI. Right now, she was just too exhausted. “Are you serious? With my husband missing, you want me on a case? Sir, I can barely focus on eating. I’m useless to you in the field.”
“You’re going to have to be less useless, Special Agent. We fear another serial killer has appeared and is using a dog motif.”
“Well, tough shit. You have other trained agents. Use them.”
Michael winced, but Smythe took the outburst in stride.
“Special Agent Bold, you need to take this case. We’ve discovered evidence about the people harassing your husband.
I’m not at liberty to share that information, and I don’t believe it’s wise for you to know who they are, but you must not behave suspiciously. ”
Faith just blinked for a moment.
“Bold?”
“Yeah, I’m here. You said you… you know who has my husband?”
Michael’s eyes widened. He leaned forward and motioned for Faith to put the phone on speaker.
She did, just in time for Smythe to say, “After our recent phone calls on the subject and the unfortunate accident your husband suffered, I chose to take more seriously your claim that the Marine Corps might have a vendetta against your husband. I assigned agents to look into it, and they’ve found…
Well, I don’t believe I should tell you, but I can tell you two things.
First, your husband is almost certainly alive.
Second, it is critical that these people not believe that you know who they are.
Discovering that could make them think that you’re going to pose a threat.
I could put other agents on this case, but I’m putting you on this case so that you are protected.
I can’t explain more right now, but please trust me. ”
Faith looked at Michael. Smythe was on the right track with the general situation but not this specific circumstance. It wasn’t the CIA that had David in custody but another well-meaning but hopelessly-in-over-his-head vigilante who had enlisted David to help in their mutual crusade.
But if they told Smythe the details, then Smythe would know that Faith had been working on this for weeks now. He would deduce that the current trouble was due in part to Faith and especially David’s choice to ignore multiple warnings from the CIA.
Faith swallowed. “All right, sir.”
“Thank you. We’re working on this at the highest levels, Special Agent. I promise you, we will do everything in our power to keep you safe and bring your husband home.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Good. Head to the airport. Special Agent Torres will call you with more information on the case. Feel free to rely on her as lead agent. I understand you’re not one hundred percent, and I don’t need you to be.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Faith hung up and looked at Michael. Her former partner returned an incredulous look of his own. “Well… That’s… good news, I think?”
Faith sighed. “We’ll see, I guess.” She got to her feet. “Okay, Turk. Time to go. Looks like we’re working after all.”
“I’ll drive you to the airport,” Michael offered. “I’m heading there anyway.”
“Sure. I’ll text Jessica to meet me there.”
As Michael drove Faith north to Dulles International Airport, it occurred to Faith that this was good news. The FBI hadn’t been sitting still with this. She wasn’t alone. The CIA was a large and powerful organization, but so was the FBI.
For the first time since David left, Faith felt like they had a fighting chance.
***
For the first time since joining the 93rd, Staff Sergeant Miranda Whitaker believed they had a solid chance of losing.
It wasn’t so much that Lieutenant Broward had gone AWOL and kidnapped Dr. Friedman from under her nose right before she was about to kill him. It wasn’t even that the dogs had repeatedly failed to operate as they were trained to operate.
But the panic in Colonel Chastain’s eyes? That was new. She didn’t like that.
“I told you we should have killed him to begin with!” Chastain thundered at the third party in the room. “I told you that he was a liability!”
That was pretty close to the opposite of the truth.
Miranda had suggested that they needed to eliminate Dr. Friedman.
Chastain was resistant, believing that such an action would turn the attention of superstar Special Agent Faith Bold, darling of the FBI, toward them and result in massive exposure of their project.
And she was right. The FBI was now scouring the area for their missing husband, and the 93rd was in full panic mode.
The assets were on their way to the Oklahoma facility, and after this meeting, Chastain and Whitaker would be heading there too.
They’d continue the project out there, far from the prying eyes of a meddling vet.
Except that Broward had kidnapped him, and unless he was planning on giftwrapping the good doctor and placing him on the CIA’s doorstep, he had brought him to Oklahoma to try to get more evidence of the 93rd’s wrongdoing. This had all gone to hell in a handbasket on the express train.
The third party in the room was, as usual, far calmer than Chastain.
Josiah Pharaoh replied to Chastain in a mild voice, “If Dr. Friedman is planning to infiltrate the Oklahoma City facility, then he will be shot for trespassing as per the clearly posted warnings. No fault of our own. All we saw was a man behaving aggressively, perhaps even brandishing a weapon. And we, in that case, will be an oil company that we operate as a shell.”
The first sign of emotion came to his face. In this case, it was irritation. “Seriously, you guys are making a mountain out of a speck of dust. The project is larger than just this unit. Worst-case scenario, we shut down, but it’s not going to derail the end goal of Project Telegraph.”
Chastain flinched. “No! We can’t shut down! We’re so close!”
“I didn’t say we would,” Pharaoh replied soothingly.
“Only that it’s not the end of the world if we do.
” He got to his feet, probably to curtail any further attempts at conversation by the panicking Chastain.
“Call me when you guys get settled in Oklahoma. For now, your assignment remains the same. Keep moving, and let us handle the espionage threat.”
He left without waiting for a response. Chastain shook visibly, face a shade of purple Miranda hadn’t seen since she neglected to polish her boots one night in Basic.
“He’s a fool,” Chastain said quietly. “He’s a fool.”
Miranda didn’t say anything. No one listened to her anyway. She was just a handler. She was only at this meeting because she was the one sent to kill David, the one who had failed.
Miranda’s lips thinned. No. Not her. Asset Sierra-9 had failed. The stupid dog who refused to come when called, refused to execute its orders, and fought through Miranda’s control.
When they got to Oklahoma, Miranda was going to terminate that asset.
She should have done it weeks ago. Chastain should have let her do it weeks ago.
For all his brilliance, he was a coward at heart.
A civilian. Civilians didn’t understand warfare.
They didn’t understand that desertion was the most dangerous thing that could happen to a unit, and it had to be punished severely, or it would spread.
Miranda would do what she had to do, what Chastain couldn’t do. The 93rd Testing Brigade would succeed. And that rebellious dog and that meddling vet would both get what they deserved.