“In spite of her old man, you probably want to add.”
record in the world with my two, Lee, you know that. You weren’t the
only one who missed all those birthdays.”
“I think you recovered a lot better with your kids than I did.”
“Yeah? Well, Stanford isn’t cheap. Think about my offer. Might speed
up your recovery. Here we are.” Hardy passed through elegant glass
doors etched with the shape of an eagle, the glass sliding noiselessly
open at their approach. The executive secretary, a nice-looking woman
with an efficient, firm manner, announced their arrival into her
headset. She pressed a button set in a panel on top of a sleek wood and
metal console that looked more like a piece of modern art than a desk,
and motioned Hardy and Sawyer to move toward a massive wall of lacquered
Macassar ebony wood. A section of the wall opened up when they
approached. Sawyer shook his head in amazement, as he had done many
times since entering the Triton building.
In a few moments they were standing in front of a desk, although a more
apt description would have labeled it a command center, with its wall of
TV monitors, phones and other electronic gadgetry neatly built into
shining tables and impressive wall units. The man behind the desk was
just putting down the phone. He turned to them.
Hardy said, “Special Agent Lee Sawyer of the FBI, Nathan Gamble,
chairman of Triton Global.”
Sawyer could feel the strength of the grip when Nathan Gamble’s fingers
closed around his own and the two men exchanged perfunctory greetings.
“Do you have Archer yet?”
Sawyer was halfway to his chair when the question hit him. The tone was
clearly that of a superior to a subordinate and was more than sufficient
to raise every hair on the agent’s thick neck. Sawyer finished sitting
down and took a moment to study the man before answering. Out of the
corner of his eye, Sawyer caught the apprehensive look on his former
partner’s face from where he stood rigidly near the doorway. Sawyer
took another moment to undo the button on his suit coat and flip open
his notebook before resting his steady eyes back on Gamble.
“I’ll need to ask you some questions, Mr. Gamble. I hope it won’t take
all that long.”
“You haven’t answered my question.” The chairman’s voice was a notch
deeper now.
“No, I haven’t and I don’t intend to.” The two men’s eyes locked, until
Gamble finally broke it off and looked over at Hardy.
“Mr. Gamble, it’s an ongoing bureau investigation. The bureau doesn’t
usually comment–”
Gamble cut Hardy off with an abrupt wave of his hand. “Then let’s get
this over with. I have to leave to catch a plane in one hour.”
Sawyer didn’t know who he wanted to belt more–Gamble, or Hardy for
taking this kind of crap.
“Mr. Gamble, perhaps Quentin and Richard Lucas should be in on this
discussion.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before scheduling this
meeting, Hardy.” Gamble punched a button on his console.
“Find Rowe and Lucas, right now.”
Hardy touched Sawyer on the shoulder. “Quentin heads up the division
Archer was in. Lucas is head of internal security.”
“Then you’re right, Frank, I’ll want to speak with them.”
A few minutes later the broad portal opened and two men stepped into
Nathan Gamble’s private domain. Sawyer ran a penetrating eye over them
and quickly discerned who was who. His grim demeanor, his look of
competitive reproach at Hardy, and the slight hump under his left breast
labeled Richard Lucas as Triton’s head of security.
Sawyer pegged Quentin Rowe as early thirties. Rowe’s face held a ready
smile underneath a pair of large hazel eyes that were more dreamy than
intense. Sawyer concluded that Nathan Gamble could not have had a more
unlikely colleague. The expanded group adjourned to the large
conference table housed in one corner of Gamble’s mammoth office.
Gamble stared at his watch and then looked over at Sawyer. “You have
fifty minutes and counting, Sawyer. I was hoping you’d have something
important for me. However, I feel disappointment looming.
Why don’t you prove me wrong?”