shape was that her guys had fought valiantl y and died heroically while she cowered and bargained to save her neck.
No big surprise. Many of the men she worked with had turned searchin g for her weaknesses into a full-time job. Whenever she failed a t anything, they were there with yet another blonde joke. And more ofte n than not, they weren't even funny.
"Taped actually I was taped to the chair. And I have no doubt you' d have made a deal. But I'm not you, am I?"
Ken backed away from the table for a moment, shoving his hands in hi s pockets and trying to calculate a new angle. She sipped her Coke an d stared directly at him.
The truth was, she deserved at least part of the anger some of he r colleagues directed at her. When she'd gotten the job, the combinatio n of her own self-doubt and all the affirmative action talk had cause d her to react in a way typical for her but not exactly productive. Sh e should have been in the bars after hours drinking beers with the guys , but instead she'd let that spark of insecurity focus her solely o n making sure she did everything just a little better than everyone else.
She'd told herself that she was doing it to gain her team's respect , but that wasn't really the whole truth.
Worse, she'd refused to allow herself to be politicized and walked awa y from the feminist contingent who were her only supporters. They' d quickly labeled her as a traitor and now probably wanted to see he r fail as much as anyone. The lesson to be learned? The end result o f mixing slightly tarnished intentions with defensiveness and ego coul d be kind of explosive.
"You said he was expecting you," Ken said, spitting the words out wit h disgust that she figured he really felt. "Are you suggesting he has a source in the police department?"
Again, the implication was clear: that she was trying to divert blam e from herself. To make excuses.
"I said he was waiting for someone. Not us. I honestly don't believ e that he knew we were cops until he saw it on TV. If he had known, I' d be dead now."
"The mysterious Strand .. ."
She shrugged. "That's who he wanted information on."
"We've run the name through every database in the country and come u p with nothing. No one in the drug trade, no one involved in terrorism , no one he was involved with in the military .. ."
"Maybe it's someone the DEA doesn't know about. Maybe it's an alias.
Where did you get the tip? Are you talking to your informant?"
Ken just frowned and looked away.
"I'm serious," she said, leaning across the desk and trying to get hi m to look at her. "When you start putting all this together, it gets a hell of a lot more complicated than some paranoid ex-soldier blowing a "
"Oh, so you've "
"I hate being interrupted, Ken!"
He actually stopped talking, more out of surprise than anything else.
"First, I don't think he had anything to do with killing the Ramire z brothers."
"So we're going to just take his word for that?" Ken managed to ge t in.
"After wiping out a bunch of cops, why would he bother to lie abou t killing a couple of drug dealers?" She paused for a moment to take a breath. "Second, I believe that al Fayed was expecting someone name d Strand to attack him. If he knew that we were cops from the beginning , why let me go?"
"Because you're going to help him keep ahead of our investigation?"
She leaned back in her chair. "Come on, Ken .. . Are we going to tal k seriously or not? Where did we get our information on this guy? Som e kind of tip, right? From who?"
He ignored the question as he had every other time she'd posed it.
Clearly it was something that either he didn't know or didn't want t o tell her.
"That's where I'd be looking, if I was you," she continued. "What i f this informant knew al Fayed was ready for him and decided to call u s and let us do his dirty work for him?"
"Shut the hell up!" Captain Pickering shouted, finally un stickin g himself from the wall. "Just shut your mouth. You completely fuck u p
No big surprise. Many of the men she worked with had turned searchin g for her weaknesses into a full-time job. Whenever she failed a t anything, they were there with yet another blonde joke. And more ofte n than not, they weren't even funny.
"Taped actually I was taped to the chair. And I have no doubt you' d have made a deal. But I'm not you, am I?"
Ken backed away from the table for a moment, shoving his hands in hi s pockets and trying to calculate a new angle. She sipped her Coke an d stared directly at him.
The truth was, she deserved at least part of the anger some of he r colleagues directed at her. When she'd gotten the job, the combinatio n of her own self-doubt and all the affirmative action talk had cause d her to react in a way typical for her but not exactly productive. Sh e should have been in the bars after hours drinking beers with the guys , but instead she'd let that spark of insecurity focus her solely o n making sure she did everything just a little better than everyone else.
She'd told herself that she was doing it to gain her team's respect , but that wasn't really the whole truth.
Worse, she'd refused to allow herself to be politicized and walked awa y from the feminist contingent who were her only supporters. They' d quickly labeled her as a traitor and now probably wanted to see he r fail as much as anyone. The lesson to be learned? The end result o f mixing slightly tarnished intentions with defensiveness and ego coul d be kind of explosive.
"You said he was expecting you," Ken said, spitting the words out wit h disgust that she figured he really felt. "Are you suggesting he has a source in the police department?"
Again, the implication was clear: that she was trying to divert blam e from herself. To make excuses.
"I said he was waiting for someone. Not us. I honestly don't believ e that he knew we were cops until he saw it on TV. If he had known, I' d be dead now."
"The mysterious Strand .. ."
She shrugged. "That's who he wanted information on."
"We've run the name through every database in the country and come u p with nothing. No one in the drug trade, no one involved in terrorism , no one he was involved with in the military .. ."
"Maybe it's someone the DEA doesn't know about. Maybe it's an alias.
Where did you get the tip? Are you talking to your informant?"
Ken just frowned and looked away.
"I'm serious," she said, leaning across the desk and trying to get hi m to look at her. "When you start putting all this together, it gets a hell of a lot more complicated than some paranoid ex-soldier blowing a "
"Oh, so you've "
"I hate being interrupted, Ken!"
He actually stopped talking, more out of surprise than anything else.
"First, I don't think he had anything to do with killing the Ramire z brothers."
"So we're going to just take his word for that?" Ken managed to ge t in.
"After wiping out a bunch of cops, why would he bother to lie abou t killing a couple of drug dealers?" She paused for a moment to take a breath. "Second, I believe that al Fayed was expecting someone name d Strand to attack him. If he knew that we were cops from the beginning , why let me go?"
"Because you're going to help him keep ahead of our investigation?"
She leaned back in her chair. "Come on, Ken .. . Are we going to tal k seriously or not? Where did we get our information on this guy? Som e kind of tip, right? From who?"
He ignored the question as he had every other time she'd posed it.
Clearly it was something that either he didn't know or didn't want t o tell her.
"That's where I'd be looking, if I was you," she continued. "What i f this informant knew al Fayed was ready for him and decided to call u s and let us do his dirty work for him?"
"Shut the hell up!" Captain Pickering shouted, finally un stickin g himself from the wall. "Just shut your mouth. You completely fuck u p
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