Agent X - Boyd Noah (серии книг читать бесплатно .TXT) 📗

“It would take a year to analyze all this,” Bursaw said.

“What about her personal laptop?” Vail asked.

“That—what did you call it?—Shadow Copy stuff? They’re working on it now.”

“Good. Have you heard anything from your girlfriend Denise?”

“Nothing. You know the attention span of a hooker. It’s only about as long as their tricks.”

“All this wheel spinning is making me hungry. How about I let you buy me some lunch.”

“The way you eat, it’d be cheaper for me to get you a hooker.”

“Sounds like somebody’s been getting the law-enforcement discount.”

Bursaw and Vail sat in a booth eating corned beef sandwiches at a deli two blocks from the Washington Field Office. “Does your supervisor know you’re putting all this time in looking for Sundra?”

“We’re all a little surprised when he actually finds his way to the office every day. The word is he’s got much greater ambitions. All indications are that he’s saving himself so when he gets back to headquarters he can screw up cases Bureau-wide.”

“So what do you want to do with Sundra next?”

“Me? You’re the idea guy. Why do you think I’m buying lunch?”

“You feed me salted meat and expect my A stuff? There better be a promise of pie attached to your next request.”

“I wish I could get up off of this, but I can’t. It’s waking me in the middle of the night. No matter what I’m doing, I start drifting away thinking about it. I mean, Christ, I didn’t even know her. Not really. I guess it’s become personal because of my cousin.”

Vail took the last bite of his sandwich and pushed the plate away. “You know she was a good person. If we don’t give them a little extra, who do we do it for?” Vail took a drink. “I’d never say dump it. Nobody else is looking for her, so you have to. It’s part of the idiot agent’s code. Running in the wrong direction is our life. When we’re done here, let’s go back to the office and go through the file again.”

“That’s your great insight? Go through the file again? I could have done that.”

“You’re mixing up cause and effect. The insight comes when I find something in the file. If that isn’t good enough, next time ask a psychic to lunch.”

“Okay, okay. You ready to go?”

“What’s the magic word?”

Bursaw signaled the waitress over to their booth. “Pie, please.”

15

Sitting in the backseat, Kate listened to Kalix and Langston. Their conversation had a controlled excitement to it. The car was positioned a good half mile from the entrance to the park where it was believed that James Dellasanti was going to pick up the package left by Calculus. He thought it was going to contain only money, while the agents hoped for money and documents. The surveillance crew that had gotten there first thing in the morning had found a package wrapped in black plastic and sealed with tape. It had been found where Vail had predicted it would be, under the end of a small footbridge, a five-minute walk from the parking lot.

The staccato radio transmissions between the surveillance teams at the drop site and those following Dellasanti’s car cut back and forth through the air rhythmically like a slow, efficient tennis match. Both Langston and Kalix shifted in their seats anxiously. Kate should have been more excited about what was getting ready to happen, but Vail’s not being there was dulling this once-in-a-career experience for her. She thought about the Russians trying to kill him the night before and how if she had been there he might not have been at as great a risk. After he called her from the Oakton station, she felt sick, not because of what he’d gone through but because she hadn’t taken a stronger stand against Langston’s excluding him. She drew in a sobering breath and tried to not think about Vail.

She leaned her head back and started drifting off between transmissions. Every third one or so, Langston had Kalix send some unnecessary instruction. She could picture the men at the other end rolling their eyes.

“We’re approaching the park,” the team leader following Dellasanti said.

Langston sat up a little straighter and took the mike out of Kalix’s hand. “Make sure you give him enough room. We’ve got people inside the park. We’ll have nothing if you spook him off the pickup.”

The assistant director waited a few seconds for his transmission to be rogered. The radio remained silent. Kate smiled. She knew that it was a tacit protest. This is what these agents did all day, week in and week out. The disdain that street agents developed for upper management certainly couldn’t be called a mystery. “Did you copy?” Langston asked, his tone becoming more imperious. Again there was no answer, and just as Langston was about to retransmit his demand, two slow, static-punctuated pushes came from the surveillance leader’s mike button, confirming that the instruction had been received.

Less than a minute later, Kate watched Dellasanti’s car pass by, recognizing it from the surveillance description. Neither Langston nor Kalix seemed to notice. “We’re pulling into the parking lot,” the team leader said.

“Let’s go, John,” Langston said. Kalix eased the car into gear and drove at a controlled pace through the entrance to the park. The terrain surrounding the parking lot was slightly rolling and heavily treed with hardwoods that now stood stark in the winter sunlight. In the distance ahead, winding footpaths disappeared into long stretches of evergreens. A large sign gave the park hours and listed the different trails, all coded by color.

There was about a half hour of daylight left, and a few hundred feet away, Kate could see their target exiting his car. She said, “That’s him getting out of the green station wagon just ahead, John.”

There were a handful of commuter cars scattered throughout the lot, and Kalix pulled into the first space he saw, turning off the engine. They watched as Dellasanti looked back once and then took off at a pace that indicated he knew where he was going, entering the trail marked “Green.” The leader of the unit that had followed him handed off the “eye” to the surveillance people hidden in the park. “Okay, Twenty-seven Three, he’s all yours. We’ll set up outside the entrance in case you need us to get back on him.”

“We’ll keep you posted, Twelve Two.”

“Come on,” Langston said, opening the car door. “Did you see the way he was looking around? You could convict him on body language alone.”

“A suggestion, Bill,” Kate said. “I’d let the surveillance people handle this. Nobody is around. If he sees us, especially the way we’re dressed, he’ll make us in a heartbeat.”

Langston looked down at his suit and then at Kalix. “You’re probably right. We’ll wait here.”

The three of them listened in silence as the agents hidden in the woods described every move Dellasanti made. “Subject has crossed the bridge and then stopped. He’s looking around . . . coming around the end of the bridge . . . squatting down . . . reaching under. . . . All units, be advised the subject has the package. He’s put it inside his coat and is starting back across the bridge.”

Langston held up the mike to his mouth. “All units, this is Assistant Director Langston. We’ll take him when he gets to the parking lot.”

“Ten-four.”

Langston opened the door and grabbed a handheld radio. “Let’s go.” Kalix and Kate got out. Langston and Kalix started walking quickly toward the path that Dellasanti had used to enter the park. More agents were pulling into the lot, getting out of their cars, and feeling the excitement of catching a spy red-handed; they hurried to intercept him. Kate leaned back against the car and let her mind drift off, wondering what Vail would do if he were there.

“The girl isn’t going with them!” The two men sat up straight in the same black SUV a hundred yards outside the parking lot, watching the activity through a small spotting scope.