Divided in Death

“But not in style.” He slid into his car, gu

“What is it about guys and cars?” she wondered. “I just don’t get how their dicks are attached to cars.”

With a shake of her head, she started across the garage.

“Lieutenant Dallas.”

Instinctively, her hand slipped inside her jacket and onto the butt of her weapon. She held it there as she pivoted, and studied the man who stepped out from between parked cars.

“This garage facility is NYPSD property, for authorized perso

“Qui

“Reach slow, AD Sparrow.”

He did, drawing out the flip case with two fingers. He held it up, waiting for her to approach. Eve studied the ID, then his face.

He looked young for any real juice in the HSO, but then she had no idea how early they recruited. He might’ve been forty, she supposed, but calculated he was missing a few years from that date. But he wasn’t green. His calm demeanor told her he’d had some seasoning.

His body had the compact, ready look under its black, government employee suit that made her think boxer or ballplayer. His voice had no discernible accent, and he waited, without movement or word, until she’d finished summing him up.

“What do you want, Sparrow?”

“I’m told you want a conversation. Why don’t we have one. My car’s beside yours.”

She glanced over at the black sedan. “I don’t think so. Let’s take a walk instead.”

“No problem.” He started to dip a hand in his right pocket. She had her weapon out and at his throat. She heard him suck in air, let it out. She saw the quick flicker of surprise and alarm on his face before it settled into passive lines again.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

“That’s no problem either.” He held them out, and up. “You’re jumpy, Lieutenant.”

“I’ve got reason, Assistant Director. Let’s walk.” Rather than holstering her weapon, she slid it inside her jacket as they walked toward the garage exit. “What makes you think I want a conversation?”

“Reva Ewing spoke with a mutual contact in the Secret Service. Given the current situation, I was assigned to come over from the New York base and speak with you.”

“What’s your function?”

“Data cruncher, primarily. Administrative area.”

“You knew Bissel?”

“Not personally, no.”

She turned, moved briskly down the sidewalk. “I assume this conversation is being recorded.”

He gave her a very easy, very pleasant smile. “Is there something you don’t want on record?”

“I bet there’s a lot you don’t.” She swung into a bar and grill, largely patronized by cops. Because it was change of shift, it was packed with them. Eve moved to a high-top where two detectives from her division were sharing beer and shop talk.

“I got a meet here.” She dug out credits, laid them down. “Do me a favor and let me have the table. Beer’s on me.”

There was some grumbling, but the credits were scooped up, and the detectives moved off. Eve chose a stool that kept her back to the wall.

“Felicity Kade recruited Blair Bissel for the HSO,” Eve began.

“How did you come by that information?”

“Subsequently,” she went on, “he functioned as a data liaison-data’s your territory, right?-transporting same to and from sources, and using his profession as a cover. Was he ordered to marry Reva Ewing, or was that his own suggestion?”

Sparrow’s face had gone to stone. “I’m not authorized to discuss-”

“Then just listen. He and Kade targeted Ewing due to her contacts with government officials, and her position in the private sector at Securecomp. She was, without her knowledge, injected with an internal observation device-”

“You’re going to wait a minute.” He laid a hand on the table. “You’re going to wait a damn minute. Your data’s incorrect, and if you put this sort of skewed information in your reports, it’s going to cause trouble for you. I want your source.”

“You’re not getting my source, and my data is on the mark. The device was removed from Ewing today. You’re finished using her. You shouldn’t have set her up on my watch, Sparrow. You want to take out a couple of your own, that’s your business, but you don’t set up civilians to take the fall for murder.”

“We didn’t set her up.”

“Is that the company line?”

“There was no hit ordered or sanctioned by the HSO.”

“You lied when you said you didn’t know Blair Bissel. You’re the AD, you damn well knew him.”

Sparrow’s gaze never flickered, and Eve decided she’d been right about the seasoning. “I said I didn’t know him personally. I didn’t say I didn’t know him professionally.”

“Being slippery, Sparrow, isn’t making me like you any better.”

“Look, Lieutenant, I’m doing my job here. The incident involving him and Kade is being investigated, internally. It’s believed that the hit was carried out by a cell of the Doomsday Group.”

“And why would a group of techno-terrorists bother to build a frame around Ewing?”

“It’s being investigated. This is a global security matter, Lieutenant.” His voice was very low now, and very cold. “The termination of two operatives is an HSO matter. You’re required to step back.”

“I’m required to do my job. Another of Bissel’s side dishes is dead. This one was a twenty-one-year-old girl, still wet enough behind the ears to believe in true love.”

His jaw clenched, visibly. “We’re aware of the disposal. We-”

“Disposal? Fuck you, Sparrow.”

“It didn’t come from us.”

“You know everything that goes on inside your organization?”

He opened his mouth, then seemed to check whatever he was going to say. “I’ve been thoroughly briefed on these matters. This conversation is a courtesy, due to Ewing’s exemplary service to her country, and the desire of HSO to cooperate, as much as possible, with local authorities. However, it’s only a courtesy. There are details of these matters you are not cleared to know. The charges against Ewing have been dropped.”

“And that smooths it all out? You think you can look and listen and sit back, playing with people, nudging them around like pawns in a chess game?”

She recognized the pressure on her chest, knew she’d need to gulp for air if she let it take over. If she let herself think about that room in Dallas.

So she blocked it out, slammed it down, and thought of a young woman in a frilly bedroom with a purple stuffed bear and a pink rosebud.

“A few get broken along the way, well, that’s a shame. Chloe McCoy is dead. You got a way to smooth that out?”

His tone never changed. “It’s being investigated, Lieutenant. It will be resolved. Responsible parties will be dealt with as appropriate. You need to back off.”

“The way you people backed off in Dallas?” It was out before she could stop it. “The way you sat on your asses gathering intel no matter what the cost to the i

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Dallas isn’t a factor in this matter.”

“You look like a smart guy, Assistant Director Sparrow. Look it up, put it together.” She slid off the stool. “And hear this: I don’t back off. Ewing’s not only going to be sprung, she’s going to be publicly exonerated, with or without your cooperation. And whoever killed Chloe McCoy will be dealt with, as the law deems appropriate, not your gang of spooks.”

She didn’t shout, but neither did she trouble to keep her voice low. A few heads turned-and, she knew, more than a few cops’ ears tuned in.

“This time there’s going to be payment. You and your listening posts put that into your data banks and analyze it. You approach me again, be ready to deal. Or we have nothing to say.”

She strode out of the bar. Her breath was starting to come too fast, and her head was going light. She had to bear down. She wasn’t going to think about what had been done to her, but about what she was going to do.