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Stopping now just outside her mentor’s office, Ryan raised her hand to knock on the door, when McGee’s voice boomed from the other side. “It’s open.”
CHAPTER 14
Bob McGee was a tall man in his late fifties who ran four days a week and spent the other three in the gym. He sported a thick mustache, which, like his wavy hair, had somehow managed to escape the ravages of time. There were some who said that the only thing stronger than the forces of aging was McGee’s vanity, along with a bottle of hair color he kept hidden away somewhere.
When the door opened, he looked up from his desk and saw Lydia Ryan standing in his doorway. “So this is how it ends,” he said with a smile. “Well, at least they didn’t send a stranger. I don’t suppose it would make any difference if I offered you half the money, would it?”
Ryan shook her head and smiled back. “You should have disappeared when you had the chance, Bob.”
“And give up all of this?” he asked, sweeping his arms out and taking in his tiny office. “Not a chance.”
She laughed and they met in the center of the room, where he gave her a big hug. Once they were done saying hello, he offered her one of the chairs in front of his desk while he took the other. “What’s so top secret that we couldn’t discuss it over a secure phone? This isn’t about that jackass Durkin again, is it? I told you, you should have shot him and dumped him in a shallow grave.”
“Technically, you said I should’ve dumped him in a quarry.”
McGee gri
“Pocket litter, check. If and when I shoot him, I’ll remember that.”
“So what’s Durkin done now?”
Ryan took a deep breath. “I don’t know that he’s done anything.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“How much time do you have?”
McGee leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head, and made himself comfortable. “As much time as you need.”
• • •
After recounting everything to McGee, and sharing with him the materials Nafi Nasiri had given her in Frankfurt, she waited for her mentor to respond with something insightful that would help her figure out a way forward.
“What a friggin’ disaster,” he finally said.
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to make some sort of suggestion about how we’re going to handle this.”
McGee sat forward in his chair. “We? Why is this suddenly my problem?”
“Damn it, Bob. I need your help. This is serious.”
“I’ll make it easy for you. I think your pal at Jordanian Intelligence is pulling your chain. There’s no way they’d play chicken with a potential terrorist attack. Not a chance in hell.”
“So you think he’s making it up?” said Ryan.
“I think everybody’s making things up.”
“You mean Durkin?”
McGee nodded. “Your destab team was top notch, but they broke the cardinal rule—they got caught.”
“But they all got ca
“No way,” he replied. “They may have been scrubbed from the rolls, but there’s no way Durkin let those guys go. They were too good. From what I heard, they had multiple reprimands. You were considered a by-the-book player and attaching you to that team was a last-ditch effort to rein them in. When things went south, they were shut down.” McGee made air quotes as he said the words shut down.
“But Durkin told me to my face that he has no idea what they’re up to or where they are.”
“C’mon, Ryan. Don’t be so naïve. He’s a spook, just like you. He’s paid to lie to people.”
McGee was right. “I don’t get it. We’re just supposed to ignore potentially actionable intel from the Jordanians?”
“How well do you know Nasiri?”
“Very well. He took a shoulder full of shrapnel for me. Probably saved my life,” she replied.
“And you trust him?”
“I wouldn’t be wasting my time, or yours, if I didn’t. Listen, I agree. I think holding back information on a terrorism plot is particularly bad form for an ally, but if our positions were reversed I’d do the exact same thing. In fact, I’d probably do more.”
McGee flipped slowly through the material again as he spoke. “If this is legitimate, it’s pretty damning, regardless of whether or not your old team is still working for Durkin. If it can be proven that the United States not only cooked up and carried out the Arab Spring, but is continuing to topple governments throughout the Middle East, that’s going to cause an international firestorm. It’ll sink this administration.”
“I don’t care about the political ramifications. What I care about is stopping a terrorist attack from being carried out on U.S. soil. We’re not going to get any help from the Jordanians without giving them something in return.”
“Why not take this to someone above Durkin?”
“You don’t think I already thought of that? What if I’m wrong? What if the Jordanians are playing me? I’ll look like a fool. Worse, I could end up looking like I cooked this whole thing up just to embarrass Durkin.”
McGee shook his head. “You can’t go tearing after this without some sort of approval. You have to get someone to sprinkle holy water on it.”
“And who’s going to do that?”
He tapped the folder against his knee as he ran the possibilities through his mind. “What if I could get you into the director’s office?”
Ryan laughed. “Who do you think I was contemplating going over Durkin’s head to? The DCI’s a tyrant. He hates when the chain of command isn’t followed. He’ll just kick it back to Durkin and pin a pink slip to my back with a knife.”
“I’m not talking about the Director of Central Intelligence. I’m talking about the other director—the DCI’s boss.”
“The Director of National Intelligence?”
McGee nodded.
“How do you have that kind of pull?” she asked.
“I’m an important guy.”
Ryan laughed again. “Yeah, right.”
“Your lack of faith aside, if I can make a meeting with the DNI happen, are you interested?”
“What makes you think he won’t kick it back to our director, who’ll then fire me for violating the chain of command?”
“Because I’ll protect you.”
“Protect me how?” asked Ryan.
“The DNI and I go back a long way and he owes me some favors. I’ll make sure you’ve got cover.”
“If you can guarantee cover, I’m in.”
As McGee leaned over his desk to reach for the phone, he shooed Ryan out of his office. “Give me twenty minutes.”
Nodding, she stepped out into the hall. Coming to see McGee had been the right thing to do. She had felt it even before walking into his office. The only problem was that walking out of his office, she was now feeling something else and it troubled her more than the prospect of being chewed out for violating the CIA chain of command, or even being fired.
She was gripped by the fear that no matter what strings her mentor might pull, it wouldn’t matter, because they were already too far behind to catch up.
CHAPTER 15
WASHINGTON
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
Harvath pulled up in front of the chipped brick warehouse and checked the rusted numbers above the door against the address the Old Man had given him. He appeared to be at the right place.
Though he normally didn’t leave anything of value in his SUV, he did a quick visual sweep of the seats just to make sure. This neighborhood wasn’t exactly in the town’s garden district and the last thing he wanted to do was tempt some passing thug into a quick smash-and-grab.