do.”
“Fine. So what’s our next move?”
“Hit all our lines of investigation as hard as we can. Find Lockhart.
Let’s hope she uses a credit card for plane or train tickets. If she
does that, we’ve got her. We need to at least make an effort to find
the shooter. Shadow Buchanan. Unscramble that tape and see who was in
that house. I want you to act as liaison with the VCU. We have a lot
of threads, if we can only grab one or two of them and hold on.”
“Hey, isn’t that always the case?”
“We’re in a really tight spot here, Connie.
He nodded thoughtfully. “I heard Fisher was here. Figured he’d been
by to see you.”
Reynolds didn’t respond to this, and Connie plunged on.
“Thirteen years ago, I was heading up a joint undercover drug operation
with the DEA in Brownsville, Texas.” He paused for a moment as if
deciding whether to go forward or not. “Our official goal was to
disrupt the flow of cocaine over the Mexican border. Our unofficial
goal was to accomplish our mission without making the Mexican
government look bad. For that reason, we had open lines of
communication with our counterparts in Mexico City. Perhaps too open,
since there was rampant corruption south of the border at all levels.
But it was done that way so the Mexican authorities could share in the
glory after we did all the work and scored the perps heading up the
cartel. After two years of work, a huge bust was planned. But our
plans got leaked and my guys walked into an ambush that left two of
them dead.”
“Oh my God. I heard about that case, but I didn’t know you were
involved in it.”
“You were probably still cutting your teeth at Quantico.”
Reynolds didn’t know if this was a backdoor barb or not, but she chose
not to respond.
“Anyway, after all that went down, I got a visit from one of the young
ladder climbers at HQ who wouldn’t know which end of his pistol to
hold, and who politely informed me that if I didn’t make things right,
my ass was cooked. But there was one stipulation. If I found out our
friends in Mexico sent us down the river, I couldn’t use that as an
excuse. International relations, I was told. I’d just have to fall on
the sword for the good of the world.” Connie’s voice trembled a little
as he said this last part.
Reynolds found she was holding her breath. It was not like Connie to
talk this much. In the dictionary, the man’s picture could well be
found next to the word “taciturn.”
He took a gulp of coffee and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
“Well, you know what? I traced the leak right to the top of the
Mexican police department and I put a big X on the bastards’ foreheads
and walked away from it. If my superiors didn’t want to do anything
about it, fine. But damn if I was going to take the fall for
somebody’s else’s shit.” He eyed her steadily. “”International
relations,”” he said, a bitter smile spreading across his lips as he
did so. He rested his elbows on her desk.
Was this a challenge he was laying before her? Reynolds wondered. Was
he expecting to leave an X on her forehead, or daring her to pin one on
his?
“That’s been my official motto ever since,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Fuck ‘international relations.””
CHAPTER 21
THROUGH THE AIRPORT TERMINAL DRIFTED MEMBERS of both the FBI and
Central Intelligence, with the former group completely unaware of the
latter’s presence. Thornhill’s men also had the advantage of knowing
that Lee Adams was probably traveling with Faith Lockhart. The FBI
agents were only looking for the woman.
Lee unknowingly passed a couple of the FBI agents dressed as
businessmen with briefcases and Wall Street Journals. They were
equally oblivious to him. Faith had passed by the agents a moment
earlier.
Lee slowed when he got near to the main ticket counter. Faith was up
there speaking with a clerk. This was starting to look okay. He had a