off to a conference in London but promised to be available 24/7 should any need arise.
Watson and the experts all agreed that Fung’s breach had been something of a fluke and not indicative of a larger security problem. Foley worried about Watson. She had taken the news about Fung’s espionage particularly hard and counted it as both a personal and professional failure. In a sense, she was right on both counts. But Foley was equally culpable. It had all happened on her watch.
The most obvious question that plagued her was how had Fung managed to evade the regular security audits of critical IC contracting personnel. Were they not being conducted as often and as thoroughly as she assumed? Or relying too heavily on polygraph testing—easily defeated by proper coaching? She would need to address the issue as soon as the dust settled.
Now all that was left was for Foley to put together an executive summary of the Fung incident and call the President. As a former national security advisor and deputy director of Central Intelligence, he would appreciate both the severity of the crisis and its rapid resolution.
As POTUS, she imagined he would be furious. But Foley didn’t believe in hiding the dirty laundry, come what may.
Sunshine was the best disinfectant, especially in her line of work.
KLATOVY DISTRICT, PLZEĆ REGION, CZECHIA (FORMERLY KNOWN AS THE CZECH REPUBLIC)
The barrel of Clark’s Colt .45 pressed against The Czech’s knee as he sat in his favorite high-backed office chair. Like the rest of his massive hunting lodge, the log walls featured trophies of game he had killed in the surrounding forest.
“Really, Mr. Clark? Such dramatics?”
“Last chance, buddy. If you ever want to dance the cha-cha again, you better tell me where we can find Cluzet.”
Jack was in the room as well, Glock 19 in hand, along with Gavin, who was already rooting around the gangster’s laptop.
“We’ve both seen this movie before. If I tell you, you’ll kill me anyway.”
Jack said, “We just want Cluzet. Not you.”
“Is that what you told my guards outside before you killed them, too?”
“They didn’t cooperate. That made them collateral damage. Now it’s your turn to choose,” Jack said.
The owlish eyes behind the glasses studied Jack’s face.
“Cluzet has wronged you personally, hasn’t he?”
Jack charged forward, gun up. He jammed the barrel against The Czech’s skull, knocking his glasses off his nose. “Cluzet! Where is he?”
“Jack—”
“Last chance, asshole!”
The Czech saw the murderous rage in Jack’s eyes. “I’m not a micromanager. I honestly have no idea.”
“Then there’s no reason for you to waste any more space on the planet.” Jack’s finger slid over to the trigger.
“No! Wait. Perhaps I have something more valuable than Cluzet to offer.”
Clark pushed Jack’s pistol away from the old man’s forehead. “Like what?”
“Your country has a problem. A very large problem. A problem only I can resolve. But I will need to speak to Director Foley.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Jack said.
“Why Director Foley?” Clark asked.
“Trust me, she will want to hear what I have to say.”
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Mary Pat Foley frowned with confusion when The Czech told her about the BKA agent murder in Berlin. That it was all based on intel provided to him by CHIBI.
“I’m sorry to tell you this, but CHIBI is dead. Killed himself. The leak has been sealed.”
“It’s not possible. My representative is meeting with him tomorrow. The confirmation came just an hour ago,” The Czech said over the phone.
The blood drained from Foley’s face.
The Czech finished her thought for her. “You were meant to believe the leak was sealed. Whatever corpse was conveniently provided to you was a ruse, and, judging by the sound of your voice, a brilliant one.”
* * *
—
Fifteen minutes later, The Czech handed Clark’s phone back to him with a triumphant smirk.
“Mr. Clark, Mary Pat here. I’m afraid we’re going to have to agree to his terms. Complete amnesty, in exchange for that algorithmic key.”
“You trust him, ma’am?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” His knowledge of the BKA murder was all the proof she needed.
“Now what?”
“I need you to sit tight. I’m going to put you on a conference call. I have an idea. I’ll call you back in twenty minutes. Secure our friend in another room out of earshot. And don’t hurt him.”
“If you insist, ma’am.”
The Czech sat back in his chair, satisfied he’d cheated death once again.
Clark wanted to wipe the smile off the old man’s face with the back of his hand, but he had his orders. He had to admit, though, the gangster had pulled