“We were hoping you could help us with that,” said Sanderson.
“We’re two agents swimming against an incredibly strong tide,” Sharpe replied.
Berg nodded ruefully. “More like a tidal wave.”
“I appreciate your candor,” said Sharpe. “What do you suggest?”
“Nearly a billion dollars is passing right through Brown River. Determining the source of that money would be a good start,” said Bauer.
“I’m going to need my boss’s approval to start opening some of those doors,” Sharpe said.
Graves held up a USB thumb drive. “We can open those doors without his approval if you take this back to your office and plug it into your computer.”
“Funny. Why don’t you just upload the virus to one of our phones and have us carry it in?” asked Sharpe. “Like you did at the National Counterterrorism Center.”
“I suspect you left your phones behind,” said Graves. “You guys discovered that?”
“You know we left our phones behind, and yes, we did,” said Sharpe, directing his attention back to Bauer. “We’re talking about more than just digging through financial records, in the long run.”
“Probably much sooner than later,” said Berg.
“This is going to take a concentrated effort, requiring a task force of sorts, likely pulling agents from different branches. I’ll need Fred Carroll’s tacit approval to pull that off, which means Carroll will need to know the purpose of the task force, and I can’t bullshit him. He can smell it coming through the door.”
A short silence ensued, broken by Sanderson.
“Ryan, the men and women in your presence represent nearly all of the people left in the United States that I know I can trust. We’re looking at a massive conspiracy. One in which Audra Bauer’s office is bugged. One that can conjure an authentic-looking Department of Defense Special Operations mission on short notice. One that feels comfortable snatching senior CIA officers off public streets. One that commands an army four thousand strong.”
“I get it,” said Sharpe. “We need to thoroughly vet Carroll.”
“That’s the easy part,” said Berg. “Then we need to convince him that a clear and present danger to the entire fabric of our nation’s security exists, and convince him to take action.”
“Sounds like an easy sell for someone like you, Karl,” said Sanderson, getting a few laughs.
“Here’s the thing,” said Sharpe. “We’re going to need more evidence than some cooked books and a paper mercenary army. The former is a Treasury issue. The latter is padded-cell territory.”
“A lot more than that has transpired over the past several days,” Berg said. “I’m living proof of that.”
“Take a few steps back and look at this objectively,” Sharpe suggested. “The kidnapping and torture of Karl Berg never happened.”
Berg frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Where’s the crime scene? Perpetrators? Probably cleaned up by now. The word of a disgruntled CIA officer, on the eve of retirement, might not go as far as you think. Have any big gambling debts? Strange financial activity?”
“No,” Berg said defensively.
“Think again. If this conspiracy is as big as you think, you’re either the proud owner of a shady offshore bank account or the subject of a lien against your home filed by an online casino. People who play with large sums of shady money tend to get hurt.”
“That’s crazy,” said Berg.
“Not as crazy as the running gun battle in Falls Church a few nights ago. Gunmen snatched a woman matching Audra Bauer’s description from her car, brazenly murdering her undercover protective detail in the process. A massive FBI and local police manhunt is underway as we speak,” said Sharpe, feigning a concerned look. “I can’t imagine anyone will rest until she is found and taken to a CIA safe house for her own protection.”
“Shit,” said Bauer.
“And we all know what General Terrence Sanderson did. Betrayed his country for the price of a C-17 Globemaster. Shameful. Did I miss anyone?”
“You made your point,” said Bauer. “We need irrefutable evidence of a conspiracy.”
“We have a long list of names,” said Berg. “Broken down by pay grade and location.”
“Wellins didn’t tell us anything useful about the people pulling his strings, and he was in the top tier,” Sayar added.
“Wellins?” said Sharpe, looking around the room.
Nobody seemed eager to offer an explanation, especially Berg. He could hear Sharpe’s caustically objective version of the abduction and torture of a member of Bauer’s “protective detail.”
Sharpe grimaced. “That bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say he turned out to be a dead end,” said Berg.
“Wonderful. High tier? As in area coordinator?”
“Yes.”
“Then we need to identify a conspirator outside of this phantom army structure,” Sharpe concluded. “They’re probably using cutouts for any interaction requiring face time, and one-way or dead-end electronic communications.”
“Several numbers on his call list were dead-ended. Same with the other phones collected,” Graves told him. “We scoured the data and found nothing.”
“I bet any possible connection to his crew has been zapped. Same with the crew that took Berg,” said Sharpe.
“So how the hell do we do this?” Berg asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” said Sharpe.
“I have an idea,” Sanderson answered. “There’s no diplomatic way to say this, but we could dangle some cheese in front of a mousetrap.”
Audra Bauer’s husband, David, launched up from his seat. “The general can shove that idea where the sun doesn’t shine. That’s up your ass, in case you’re confused.”
“I’m not, and for the record, I wasn’t suggesting Audra,” said Sanderson. “I’ll be making my way north shortly. I’m sure I’d make an irresistible piece of cheese.”
“How long?” asked Sharpe.
“A few weeks. Now that I’m back on the most wanted list, it won’t be an easy trip.”
“This will go cold by then,” said Sharpe. “Completely evaporated.”
“Then dangle me,” Berg offered.
Bauer threw up her hands. “We’re not dangling anyone as bait.”
“Then this is over,” said Sharpe. “Unless someone can cough up someone inside the core conspiracy.”
The room went quiet, shoulders shrugging and heads mostly shaking. Berg noticed Timothy Graves and Anish Gupta whispering furiously back and forth in an apparent argument. Graves muttered an obscenity before standing up.
“There might be a development on that front,” said Graves.
“What kind of development?” said Sharpe.
Graves hesitated.
“Tell them,” said Gupta, nudging Graves.
“Tell us what?” said Berg.
“Dammit. I really wasn’t supposed to say anything. It’s not one hundred percent,” said Graves.
“Spill it, Graves!” said Sanderson.
“Wellins might have mentioned a name at the end of his — ordeal,” said Graves.
“And nobody thought to mention this?” said Berg.
“I didn’t find out until several hours ago,” said Graves. “We put together an intelligence package.”
“Then let’s get this ball rolling!” said Sanderson.
“It’s already rolling,” said Graves. “The Petroviches wanted to deliver a farewell gift.”
“What kind of gift?” said Berg.
“The kind that dresses in an expensive suit and works at the White House.”
Karl Berg felt a glimmer of hope.
Chapter 63