The End Game

“We finally did have a class together, Cognitive Science of Good and Evil.” She’d come out of her shell by that time, even had a boyfriend who was on the rugby team. We talked about what we were pla

“Spies.”

Mike nodded. “I wondered about her mother, but she never talked about her, said only she’d died of cancer, real young. She wanted to be like her dad and her uncle.

“Then we graduated and I went off to grad school at John Jay, and haven’t thought of her since.”

She gave him an arched eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you ever had any adjusting to do, not like I did at Yale?” A pause, then she shook her head. “Of course you didn’t. Eton, Cambridge, the Foreign Office. You fit in perfectly the whole way. And now the FBI, where you’ve been welcomed with open arms. Oh, yes, I like your scruffy beard.”

He gri

“What? Giddy? About what?”

He looked embarrassed. “It was just something Nigel said to me last night when I came in half dead, clothes ready for the dustbin. He said I was giddy here in New York.”

Mike realized that, yes, Nigel was right. “Well, I do know you enjoy kicking butt,” she said, and she sent a look in Craig Swanson’s direction.

He didn’t tell her that if indeed he was giddy, she was right there with him.

The helicopter lurched to the side, then straightened again. Charlie said over the intercom, “Just making sure you guys are awake. All’s okay.”

Nicholas said, “We surely appreciate that, Charlie. Now, Mike, let me check my e-mail, see if Gray has sent me a dossier on Carl Grace, her uncle. Yes, here it is.”

“Tell me.”

“Apparently Vanessa’s dad, Paul Grace, is rather legendary in the intelligence community. He was an undercover agent in the eighties and nineties, working deep cover with the IRA in Northern Ireland. He nailed a faction of IRA bombers, then was shot dead by a wife of one of the men in the group.”

Nicholas closed the cover of the tablet. “As for his younger brother, Carl Grace, he came out of the field after he adopted Vanessa. This has got to be unusual—he became her handler after she joined the CIA.”

Mike said, “And now she’s been shot. I don’t want her to die, Nicholas, I really don’t.”

“I don’t, either. We’ll soon see.”

Charlie said, “Nearly there, folks, and only one little bump to keep you alert. I’ve been asked to patch through a call from Special Agent Savich. Please switch to cha

Nicholas flipped the cha

“I just got a call from Dominion Virginia Power. They’re having trouble with their electrical grid powering Richmond. Get here as quickly as you can, Nicholas. I’m afraid an external attack is coming.”

50

KNIGHT TAKES D1

FBI Headquarters, Hoover Building

Washington, D.C.

There were two cars waiting at the heliport, one FBI, the other CIA. Swanson gave them a small wave and went to join his compadres. “I hope they tear him a new one,” Nicholas said, and Mike spurted out a laugh at the Americanism.

“I have a feeling Ms. Finder might do some of the tearing, too, once she gets her hands on him again,” Mike said. “I know I’m not at all sad to see the last of him.”

They got into the back of a black SUV. Special Agent Dover, their driver, said, “Seat belts, folks. I’ve got to get you to the Hoover Building in ten minutes.”

As Dover ducked and dodged through the insane traffic, Nicholas said to Mike, “Sounds to me like you’d like to join Ms. Finder.”

“You bet. That jerk said I was uptight.” She turned to face him. “I am not uptight. I’m not, am I, Nicholas? I’m the furthest thing from uptight I can think of, right? I mean, I know how to party, I know how to let my hair down and hang out. Shut your mouth. If you laugh at me, I’m going to belt you.”

He swallowed the laugh. “No, Agent Caine, uptight isn’t ever something I’d ever say about you.”

“Yeah, and what would you say about me?”

“Hmmm, how about fast off the mark without a lot of thought—”

“Me, fast off the mark? What about you and Craig Swanson? You couldn’t wait to pound him. You didn’t even give it a second’s thought, did you?”

“You wanted to jump him, too. I was simply closer.”

Well, now, that was the truth. “Stop trying to make me laugh.”

Three horns honked off to their right, and Dover raised his middle finger. “Out-of-towners,” he said, and sped through a yellow light, whipping to the left to avoid a taxi.

Nicholas slid against her. He didn’t move, closed his eyes for a moment.

Mike was looking out the window. “Everything’s ready to burst into summer. Cherry blossoms are long gone.”

Nicholas moved back to his side of the SUV. “I wonder what’s happening to the power grid in Richmond.”

“No word from Savich—that’s got to be good news. Maybe it was a false alarm.”

“Like that ever happens,” Nicholas said.

Agent Dover pulled up outside the Hoover Building. “Go in this entrance. Nine minutes on the dot. Have fun with Savich, but be careful he doesn’t take you to the gym and tie your legs around your necks.” He gave them a small salute, and they went into the cavernous marble lobby to see Savich waiting for them.

“Nicholas, Mike. Great to see you. Come on, we’ll get you signed in and official, then we can go upstairs and get started. Nothing definitive from Richmond yet. False alarm? We could get lucky, I suppose.”

Mike hadn’t spent much time with Savich herself, but she knew he was very worried. About the power grid in Richmond, sure, but something more.

They signed in, clipped visitor badges to their jackets, went through the metal detectors, then the elevator to the third floor.

Nicholas had been here before, during his training at Quantico, when Savich had needed some English background on a case. Mike hadn’t ever visited the CAU, but it immediately felt like home. Every agent in the large room stared after them, knowing something was up, something major, alert and ready to move, the lot of them, just like New York. She nodded to a couple of agents she’d worked with on other assignments. And she wondered how many of these agents had worked with the agents murdered in Bayo

She saw Sherlock through the huge glass window in Savich’s office. She was reading something on a tablet, her curly red hair veiling her profile. Sherlock rose and hugged both Mike and Nicholas. “It’s so good to see you two. I’m very sorry, all of us are, about the agents we lost in Bayo

Savich said, “Sit down, both of you. We hope that our meeting with Mr. Grace will make us believe the CIA is finally ready to fess up, unburden their souls, and tell us everything they know about COE. But don’t count on it.”

Sherlock turned to face them. “Before we get down to business, you’re both coming to di