CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Nate
“Special Agent Porter, Good morning!” I said when the call connected.
“Good morning Mr. Linden.”
“I’m on speaker with Jack. Look, I know it’s early but things just got a little…interesting here,” I revealed.
“I’ve just arrived at the office. I’m getting out of my car, one moment,” she said.
I heard the sounds of heels clicking on the echoing sub-basement garage floor, the beep of a security pass opening a door, and then closing.
The tip-tap of fast walking continued for another minute before another security door opened and closed. “Okay, I’m in my office now. Proceed.”
“We received an invitation to brunch at midday…with Oliver Roux.”
“Oh!” The FBI agent sounded a little surprised.
“He’s taken the other penthouse at this hotel, the Superior suite.”
“That is interesting. Are you sure the invitation is actually from Mr. Roux? We have no Intel saying he’ll be visiting Berlin.” she said, harried, as a desktop wake up chime sounded in the background.
Jack spoke up, “Then whoever’s supplying your Intel is a fucking idiot!
Oliver Roux is the keynote speaker at the World Security Technology Conference.
This information is public, Special Agent Porter,” he sniped.
“Seriously, how do you not know this? Roux’s on stage at 3p.m to deliver his speech.
Surely, you arranged increased security for American government and military officials in attendance? ” he prodded waspishly.
“I AM aware of the event,” the agent replied icily, “But the security arrangements…that’s not my department. The details are—“
“Yes, need to know!” Jack drawled like a bored child.
Then I revealed, “Look, I know Oliver Roux personally. He runs in the same circles as my…husband. I’ve met him many times before.
The invite is legit. I recognized his monogrammed invitation card and his signature.
” I winced as I said the word husband. Technically it was still true, Erik is my husband until the divorce gets finalized, but still, it felt odd as I was naked in bed with another man having ridden him to heaven and back!
“Are you going to this brunch with Roux?”
“We’re considering it,” I hedged.
“Don’t make any hasty decisions. I need to liaise with the members of the taskforce and devise a surveillance plan.”
“Sure, we’ll hold off. But first we want to know something. Is there a mole in your department, Special Agent Porter?”
“Excuse me?” Her tone was really pissy now.
I figured that, if anyone was intercepting this call, they knew all the details, so I didn’t hold back.
“I gave you my father’s name and your team investigated him.
You know by now my father’s file was redacted because he was a CIA asset.
You also know he’s alive and on the run.
He was sent to China by the CIA to acquire the Téng hú chips.
Turns out he was betrayed by his handler and burned the mission.
” I paused for a moment to see if Special Agent Porter had anything to say, but she didn’t utter a word, so I continued.
“It seems more than a coincidence that my dad was investigated by your team, and suddenly the spook who betrayed him is in the room when I’m interviewed,” I relayed sharply.
I could feel the shock in the FBI agent’s intake of breath.
“And now the person who arranged a deal with the spook in return for the Téng hú chips…is our new neighbour in this hotel! None of this is coincidental.”
“You’re telling me that the other man in the room with us is corrupt?” Special Agent Porter asked in a shaky whisper.
“Yes, and there’s proof.” Either Porter had been purposely misinformed, or she was lying and part of the conspiracy.
“We can’t talk about this on the phone. I’m coming over. Expect me in forty minutes!”
“Fine,” I said dryly, and ended the call.
Jack was naked beside me; long legs splayed, his gorgeous sculpted chest on display, his hands behind his head.
“Well, she’s full of shit. There’s no way that she’s not aware that one of the richest men in the world is the keynote speaker at the tech conference,” he stated determinedly. And I didn’t disagree.
The shared bath had been lovely, but as soon as we’d stepped out of the water Jack let rip.
“I don’t trust Special Agent Porter, or Oliver bloody Roux for that matter!
” he’d harrumphed. “Christ, the last thing I want to do with my day is to spend any of it with that fucking creep. Did you see how young his girlfriends are? He’s everything I detest about men in one bloated, over-privileged package,” Jack had stated vehemently.
And I couldn’t fault him for his fury. Oliver Roux’s invite was a cock block!
“When did you find out Roux’s doing the keynote at that conference?”
“When I was prepping for Operation: Big Boy,” Jack grinned.
“Operation: Big Boy?”
“Hugh Jorgen!” he snickered and then said, “Oh, oh, I forgot to tell you! Everything was so intense yesterday it slipped my mind. But I found him and questioned him. Oh babe, I wish you could have seen me in action!” Jack enthused.
“I blagged my way into the staff area of an international security conference,” he boasted.
“It was awesome! I’d planned to get up to the events office, and get Jorgen’s info.
But there he was…in the staff bathroom. He’s not a delegate, he’s a bloody waiter! ” Jack exclaimed.
“Yeah, I know. My dad employed him to plant the chips on me.”
“Oh…that’s a bit of a bummer!” Jack grumbled, looking a little deflated.
“I’m sure you were amazing,” I placated. “Dad selected Jorgen as middle-man because he couldn’t be spotted in public. But look at you, going rogue,” I praised.
“Not to blow my own trumpet, but I did nail it,” Jack preened.
“I bet I could be a real counterintelligence operative…y’know, if this acting lark doesn’t pan out!
” Our eyes met and then both of us erupted into peals of laughter.
I threaded my arms around Jack’s waist and rolled over, pulling Jack on top of me.
“My, my, my! You wanna go again already?” he asked with a cocked brow.
“Dude! My refractory period isn’t that short,” I laughed. “But sadly, our plans for eating, sleeping and fucking can’t happen today. We’d better get dressed and go down to see Agent D, yeah?”
Jack contacted the British secret service agent before I’d called the FBI.
Out of the two, Agent Deveraux was looking like the more trustworthy bet.
He’d saved my dad from whomever the Chinese sent to Berlin to find their proprietary tech, so he seemed to be on our side.
I suspected the Feebs were not only denying the existence of the stolen Chinese chips, but covering up for a CIA rogue agent, and an off the rails billionaire to avoid scrutiny.
“Come down to my room; I’ve got something interesting to show you both,” Deveraux had declared before ending the call. I was intrigued.
****