Collision

My God. Margaret Pritchard had been in direct contact with Adam Reynolds. Which meant she might know about his search software that had unearthed a few of the Cellar’s members. So who had Reynolds and Barker been working for-Hector or Pritchard? If Hector hired the Lynch brothers to kill Adam, and Pritchard worked with Hector-did she view Reynolds as an ally or a threat? At the least she’d been in contact with Barker, who was hiring death squads.

Hector had given someone their own private CIA. Maybe Pritchard hadn’t been used by Hector; maybe she was fully aware of his brutal actions.

Ben had been a dealmaker a few days ago; the smart thing now would be to cut a deal with Vochek. Show her this evidence, implicating her boss. Get her to help him find the truth.

He knew the odds of victory were not in Pilgrim’s favor. He was exhausted, hurt, and outnumbered. So if Hector escaped Pilgrim’s fury, he could not escape Ben’s. Ben would expose his conspiracy, strip him of his company, destroy his fortune. The idea gave him a cold shiver of pleasure.

The wounds in his arm and his foot throbbed. He opened the pilot’s stolen cell phone. He found Vochek’s number listed in it. He dialed.

40

“You and I are at cross-purposes,” Vochek said. “We can’t be.”

Pritchard crossed her arms, paced the hotel suite, face frowning in thought.

Vochek touched her boss’s shoulder and Pritchard stopped walking. “I’m telling you, we need to find Pilgrim and Ben, get them talking.”

“They’ve already talked plenty to you,” Pritchard said. “You’re calling Choate by that asinine code name.”

“We’ve gotten in too deep with Hector. Take him and his people off this project until we’re sure he’s not hijacking what we’re trying to do. At least until we can find out if he’s really connected to Emily Forsberg’s murder.”

Pritchard pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m starving. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

Pritchard picked up the phone, called room service, ordered a pot of decaf, two omelets, and potatoes O’Brien. She hung up. “You want me to take the word of a CIA fugitive and a man who is tied to an assassin. Over that of one of the most respected government contractors in the country.”

“How exactly is Hector helping us?”

“I told you, providing infrastructure to help us ID the off-the-books agents.”

“And when you find these agents?”

“Then they’ll be arrested. You act like this is news. Are you doubting my word?”

“No. I’m doubting his. Has he given you a single name other than that of Pilgrim?”

“No.”

“Yet Adam Reynolds is dead. His girlfriend is dead.”

“Because the Cellar’s trying to silence them.” She said this as though stating the obvious.

“Adam Reynolds found them, didn’t he? He gave the names to Hector. But Hector’s not giving them to you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You didn’t even tell me about Reynolds’s software to find aliases through financial trails. At least Pilgrim and Ben told me. Why didn’t you?”

Pritchard waved a dismissive hand. “We didn’t know if the software would even work.”

“That’s not the reason. The reason is that for it to identify likely false identities, it had to work across a huge range of databases that Adam Reynolds had no access to. But you got him the access. Illegally.”

No noise but the hum of the air conditioner. “I told you we have leeway to find these people.” She practically spat the words at Vochek.

The disappointment Vochek felt toward Pritchard welled up in her chest. “If we break every law to find these people, Margaret, we’re no better than they are. We’re turning into them.”

“Spare me the lecture on civil liberties.”

And I wished my mom was more like you? More poised, more perfect? “We need to see Hector’s service record at the CIA. Pilgrim claimed he’s an assassin.”

“So what if he was?” Pritchard said. “It has nothing to do with his current work.”

“His clients might feel differently,” Vochek said. Her cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“Vochek? It’s Ben Forsberg.”

“Where are you?”

“Nearby. Sorry we ran.”

“I’m not sure I blame you,” she said quietly.

“Are you with your boss?”

“Yes.” She glanced at Margaret, who stood with crossed arms.

“I have evidence tying your boss to Barker, the guy who betrayed the Cellar, and to Adam Reynolds. I believe she might be able to clarify this situation, how the pieces fit together.”

Vochek didn’t look at Pritchard but she could sense Pritchard tensing, standing close to her. Vochek turned and walked to the window. She glanced down to the darkened sidewalks as though she expected to see Ben watching her window. “I think you’re right.”

“Are the two of you alone?”

“Yes.”

“I want to talk to you both. Together. Because if she wants to save her career, she better help bring Hector to justice. I want a deal, hashed out between us.”

Evidence. It would either damn Margaret or it could be explained, but either way, Ben would be in her custody. “Suite 1201,” she said.

He hung up and Vochek folded her phone. She thought, suddenly, of the lost Afghan kids and wondered if she’d gone to work for a woman who was not the cure but part of the problem.