Sabito’s manner had been deceptively easygoing but he was sore and now made a point of showing it. He got up close in Jack’s face. “What are you holding out, Bauer? What makes you a target? What do you know that you’re not telling? If you’ve got something you’d better spill it before you wind up like Rhee and take your knowledge to the grave.”
“Talk, Bauer!” Ferney echoed.
That was the hell of it. Jack was holding out on Sabito, withholding the key factor in the case: Annihilax. The world’s intelligence services, and that most definitely included the FBI, believed that Annihilax was dead. Only a tight handful of operatives in CTU, CIA, and the DIA knew otherwise.
The fact that NSA had intercepted a fragment of the master assassin’s crypto-code was top secret. Even the fact that they were able to do so was top secret. Annihilax’s resurrection was ultraclassified on a need-to-know basis, and the higher-ups had decided that the Bureau as yet had no need to know. As far as the Bureau knew, CTU was injecting a phony terror angle into the case so it could horn in on what should have been a strictly FBI investigation.
Jack Bauer was prohibited from divulging that information. He chafed under the restriction. But until he was authorized to do so, he couldn’t level with Sabito and reveal the real nature of the opposition they were combating.
“If I had something I’d tell you,” Jack said, lying with equanimity.
Sabito wasn’t buying. “Like you did about your meeting with Rhee?”
Jack took the offensive. “Maybe he didn’t trust your outfit to handle it properly. That’s how he wanted it and that’s how I played it. You guys denied there even was a pattern until the last kill when Morrow got liquidated.”
A flicker of unease showed on Sabito’s face, indicating that Jack’s last remark had struck a nerve. He backed off, literally, taking a few steps back. Ferney had to step lively to avoid a collision with his boss.
That was a relief. Sabito’s face had been thrust so close that Jack had felt his hot breath on his flesh.
“I had my suspicions long before Morrow. But the top brass felt otherwise and I had to follow orders. When Morrow got killed everything changed and I was able to take a more proactive stance,” Sabito said.
“After today it’s a whole new ball game. There’ll be no more doubt about the what, only the who,” Jack said.
“Just remember we’re supposed to be partners in this investigation.”
“I’m cooperating.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it, Bauer.”
Jack gave Sabito a refresher course on the facts of life. “There’s two ways to play an assignment like this: as Mr. Inside or Mr. Outside. The first way is to work undercover and insinuate yourself into the opposition’s organization. Burrowing from within as the inside man. That’s not an option here because we don’t know who to infiltrate.
“That leaves us with option two: the outside man. Forget about going undercover and the stealth stuff and do it the opposite way. Come in with a high profile and a big noise. Show yourself and keep pushing hard in hopes of stirring up the enemy. They don’t know what you know or if you even know anything at all, but if you come on strong enough you might spook them into breaking cover and making a try for you. Make a target of yourself and hope they take the bait. If they do and you survive it you’ve got a lead.
“That’s how I’m playing it: Mr. Outside,” he concluded.
Sabito was a tough sell. “Yeah, and look how well that’s working out. We’ve got one dead assassin and one dead counterintelligence officer.”
“At least we’ve got the other side worried,” Jack said.
“Watch out that you don’t wind up playing it as Mr. Dead.”
“Why Vince, I never know you cared.”
“I don’t. I just don’t want to have to fill out the paperwork.”
Jack could well believe it. “To demonstrate our newfound spirit of cooperation, let me point out a couple of things I noticed about Rhee’s killing.”
“I can hardly wait,” Sabito said.
He and Jack crossed toward the death car, Ferney following several paces behind Sabito. After a pause, Hickman and Coates drifted along in their wake.
A few paces from the rear of the car, Sabito glanced over his shoulder at the others and came to a halt. “Let’s all trample the crime scene to make sure we get rid of any clues,” he said, his voice dripping sarcasm.
Everyone else froze in place.
“The killer already took care of that,” Jack said easily. “See how the ground is smoothed over with those swirling patterns? The killer broke a branch off a bush and used it to sweep the ground clean.”
Sabito cut a quick sidelong glance at Jack, his expression dubious. “How do you know that?”
“The smoothed-over ground is self-evident.” Jack pointed at the greenery beyond the log ground rail. “There’s a fresh spot on that bush where a branch was broken off. A leafy branch makes a nice broom to sweep clean.”
Coates muttered under his breath. “Sherlock Junior.”
“What about that set of footprints going around the car on both sides?” Hickman asked.
“I made those,” Jack said. Sabito gave him a long hard stare. “I had to see if Rhee was dead or alive,” Jack explained. He changed the subject. “Notice the keys in the car trunk. The killer searched the car, looking for what? — incriminating evidence, if any. Assuming Rhee had some.”
“I suppose you took a look inside the trunk?” Sabito asked.
Jack shook his head. “Not me. It could be booby-trapped to take out snoopers. You know, turn the key and lift the trunk lid and set off a bomb.”
“Sounds pretty far-fetched.”
“Like using a disguised maid who’s a poison needle artist?”
Coates pushed his way forward. “You’re not buying this line of malarkey, Vince?”
Sabito fixed him with his cold gray-eyed gaze. “You going to open the trunk, Red?”
“Yeah, I’ll open it—”
“Wait a minute so the rest of us can get out of range in case it is rigged to explode.”
That cooled Coates off. “Well…” After a pause, he came to a decision. “Let the demolitions boys handle it. That’s what they get paid for,” he said.
Sabito nodded. “Uh-huh. I think we can all let it be for now.” He turned toward Jack. “What else have you got?”
“The brush marks extend way over to the left of the car,” Jack pointed out. “My guess is that that’s where the killer drove in and parked beside Rhee. Rhee was sitting in his car waiting for me to show up. The other windows were rolled up so he was probably idling with the air-conditioning on. The killer got out of his car, approaching him on the driver’s side. Rhee rolled down his window, probably to talk to the killer. The killer took him by surprise and shot him point-blank in the face. Looks like a shotgun blast from the extent of the damage.”
“I took a look at him before. I’d go along with a shotgun. Sawed-off probably, since it’s easier to get into action,” Sabito said.
“Here’s the big question: What was Rhee thinking?” Jack asked.
“You’re telling it.”
“His gun is in the shoulder holster untouched. Yet he was concerned enough about his safety to arrange a secret meeting at this out-of-the-way spot. A remote locale out in the open where he could see anybody coming from a long way off.
“His window was rolled down. Why? So he could speak to the newcomer approaching him on that side. He’s already on the alert for a killer — or killers — targeting Ironwood personnel. If the newcomer had been a stranger, Rhee wouldn’t have been caught napping. He’d have been ready for trouble. He would have had his gun in hand ready for action. But he didn’t.”
“Your point being…?”
“That the killer wasn’t a stranger. That it was someone he knew, someone he trusted. A colleague or a friend. Someone he didn’t suspect until right before his head was blown off,” Jack concluded.