Last Chance to Die, Noah Boyd [most read book in the world TXT] 📗

Vail’s car. She got up and opened a bottle of wine, turning on the television. Scanning through the channels, she found a Spanish soap opera, which she couldn’t understand a word of. It was the perfect distraction, as it took her complete concentration to try to figure out the relationships between the characters by the expressions on the emotive actors’ faces. After an apparent series of arguments over a sisterly affair and the help of half a bottle of wine, she finally dropped off in the chair.

Although she woke up early the next morning, Kate didn’t get to the office until late afternoon. She’d sat around her apartment thinking about Vail and what he’d said. By now he was probably gone. The Calculus case was over, and everyone was accounted for—or would be as soon as they finished the DNA analysis of the bodies from the well. She did some housework, vacuuming carpets that didn’t need it and pulling weeds in her garden.

After finally arriving at the office, she turned on her computer. Feeling-sorry-for-herself time was over. Back to the Bureau’s business. She checked her e-mails, and there was the usual overnight bureaucratic avalanche of meaningless memos and directionless directives. But there was one sender she didn’t recognize. It was simply entitled “A Favor.” She opened it.

Kate,

Leaving my gun and creds here at the off-site, plus a few other things, if you wouldn’t mind.

Also check www.americanbusinessnews.com

Stan

That he’d signed the message “Stan” caused her to smile.

She felt a tear run down her cheek. He had risked his life to clear her, and she continued to expect so much from him—too much, she supposed. Instead of trying to understand his side of things, she’d lost her temper as quickly as he had. Maybe, deep down, she didn’t want to have to take any more chances, which was the exact thing she’d accused him of. She wondered if there was any chance that he was still in Washington. The time on the message was 5:14 A.M. Knowing him, she was sure he would have sent it just as he was heading out the door. As much as she wanted to race over there and find out, she had a late meeting. It was the only reason she’d come to work. Maybe it really was time to move on.

She clicked on the link and found the site’s generic quality curious. Since Vail had sent it, she suspected that there was more to it than met the eye. It was probably part of “plus a few other things” he’d referred to. There was something waiting for her at the off-site. She packed up her briefcase and headed for the garage.

It was past five thirty and already dark when Kate let herself into the off-site. The alarm was set, so she knew that Vail wasn’t there. She punched in the code and went upstairs to the workroom. Vail’s credentials and his Glock were on the desk in front of the computer. She checked the room that he had used for a bedroom and found that one of his suitcases was still there. She opened it and found his winter clothing. That’s right, she reminded herself, he was going to Florida.

Back in the workroom, she noticed that the computer was on. She turned on the monitor, and the Web page for American Business News appeared. The only difference was the “For Our Clients” windows for user ID and passwords were filled in. Carefully, she clicked on. When she saw the list of sixteen names, she half collapsed into the chair. She immediately spotted Radkay’s name and knew what she was looking at. Vail had pulled one last rabbit out of his hat, and his message was obvious: He was trusting her with this unprecedented trove of counterintelligence information.

After printing out everything, she picked up his gun and credentials. Taking one last look around the room, she noticed some new writing on the wall.

Walking over to it, she read:

The Sixth Why

Why would the CIA agent Rellick have to meet with Calculus three times in exactly the same place and in such a short period of time, knowing that the Bureau was tracking his movements?

What was that supposed to mean? Did it mean anything? Was it one of those philosophical or hypothetical questions that Vail had written for no one but himself? Or was he throwing something cryptic at her, just trying to show that these things were impossible to decode without him?

If there was something to it, Kate was not going to let Vail end this case being one up on her. She walked over to the wall and started reading Calculus’s itinerary, trying to find the answer to the Sixth Why.

She spent two hours making notes and cross-checking dates and locations. Writing theories on a pad and then angrily scratching them out as additional facts eliminated them. When she was done, there didn’t appear to be an answer to Vail’s last question, at least not one that she could find. Kate looked down at the list in her hand and decided that it had to be the priority now.

The CIA agent walked into the airport bar and spotted the man he thought he was looking for. “Vail?”

Vail gave him an appraising glance. “Sit down.”

The agent took out his identification and flipped it open. “Where is it?”

“You want a drink?”

“What I want is the list of our European sources that Rellick stole. That is why you called, isn’t it?”

“I never said anything about just giving it to you.”

“How much?”

“I would imagine right about now there’s quite a panic over at Langley, so it’s got to be priceless.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you’re about to put a price on it?”

“It’s nice to see that the agency didn’t send an idiot.”

“How do I know you have it?”

“Do you really want me to read it so I can give you a name? Why would I say I had it and risk being arrested if I didn’t?”

“Maybe we need to