TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

have ourselves a nice little talk.”

USAir Arena was home to the NBA Washington Bullets and the NHL

Washington Capitals, at least until the new downtown stadium was

completed. The arena was packed for the Bullets-Knicks game. Nathan

Gamble, Lucas and Sawyer rode the private elevator to the second floor

of the arena, where the corporate luxury boxes were located. When

Sawyer stepped down the hallway and through the door marked TRITON

GLOBAL, he felt as if he had boarded a luxury liner. These weren’t

merely seats to a ball game; the place was about the size of his

apartment.

A young woman was tending bar and a hot and cold buffet was laid out on

a long side table. There was a private bath, closet, overstuffed sofas

and chairs and a giant-screen TV in one corner with the basketball game

on. From Up a flight of stairs leading to the viewing section, Sawyer

could hear the crowd cheering. He looked at the TV. The home-team

Bullets were up by seven over the heavily favored Knicks.

Sawyer took off his hat and coat and followed Gamble over to the bar

area.

“You’ve gotta have something now. Can’t watch a ball game without a

drink in your hand.”

Sawyer nodded toward the bartender. “Bud, if you’ve got it.”

The young woman reached in the refrigerator, popped open a can of

Budweiser and started to pour it in a glass.

“Can’s good enough. Thanks.”

Sawyer looked around the spacious room again. No one else was there. He

strayed over to the buffet. He was still full from dinner, but some

chips and salsa were calling to him.

“Place usually this empty?” he asked Gamble while he grabbed up a

handful. Lucas assumed a hovering presence against the wall.

“Usually it’s packed,” Gamble replied. “Damn good perk for the

employees. Keeps ’em happy and hardworking.” The bartender handed

Gamble his drink. In response, Gamble flushed a wad of hundred-dollar

bills out of his pocket, pulled a glass off the counter and stuffed the

bills in the glass. “Here, bartender’s got to have a tip jar. Go buy

some growth stocks.” The young woman almost fainted with joy as Gamble

walked over to join Sawyer.

Sawyer pointed his beer toward the TV. “Looks like a great game.

I’m surprised there aren’t Triton people packed in here.”

“I’d be real surprised if they were, since I instructed that no tickets

be given out for tonight’s game.”

“Why’d you do that?” Sawyer took a sip of his beer.

Gamble hooked Sawyer’s arm with his free hand. “Because I wanted to

talk to you in private.”

Sawyer was led up the stairs to the viewing area. From up here the view

was pretty much straight down onto the playing floor. Sawyer watched

with a twinge of envy as two groups of tall, muscular and very rich

young men ran up and down the court. The seating area he was in was

closed in on three sides by Plexiglas. On either side were the

occupants of other luxury boxes. However, with the glass shield, one

could conduct a very private conversation amid a crowd of fifteen

thousand.

The two men settled in. Sawyer jerked his head toward where they had

just come from. “Rich doesn’t like basketball?”

“Lucas is on duty.”

“Is he ever off duty?”

“When he’s sleeping. I occasionally let him do that.” Gamble sat back

in the comfortable chair and gulped his drink.

Sawyer looked around curiously. He had never been in one of these

things before, and after the fancy dinner with Hardy he was feeling a

little out of his depth. At least he’d have some stories to tell Ray.

When he glanced over at Gamble, he stopped smiling.

Nada in life was free. Everything had its cost. He decided it was time

to check the price tag.

“So, what’d you want to talk about?”

Gamble stared down at the sports contest without really seeing any of

it. “The fact is we need CyberCom. We need it badly.”

“Look, Gamble, I’m not your business consultant, I’m a cop. I don’t

give a damn if you get CyberCom or not.”

Gamble sucked on an ice cube. He seemed not to have heard.

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