from her demeanor. Alex set the camera to playback mode to see what she had captured. When Nora spoke, she shook her head toward the estate. “Lipton. Davis fucking Lipton. The asshole responsible for screwing Erica.”
Alex knew the story. Erica Janway had been chief of station in Moscow. Davis Lipton was reportedly a totally talentless prick placed on a fast track thanks entirely to family influence. He was someone Janway definitely had her doubts about. He wasn’t qualified enough to be under her supervision in such a vital and dangerous section of the world. But she was told he was there to stay. She understood why, but protested anyway. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she did what she thought was the next best and most responsible thing. She made sure he didn’t get in harm’s way. That would ensure he wouldn’t get his stupid ass killed or, worse, get others who knew what they were doing killed.
Janway was eventually blindsided by allegations of harassment brought forth by him. Her drinking, although she was on the road to recovery, suddenly became a major area of concern. Men had been allowed to do it for decades, but for her, the game was not being played on the same field, and Lipton had benefactors. So, pending an investigation, she was called home from Moscow for desk duty at Langley. She felt her career was being flushed down the toilet by some little pissant who didn’t like being schooled, especially by a woman. Janway concluded the only recourse was to beat them to the plunger, so she filed a discrimination lawsuit. She had known she could kiss her career good-bye for sure at that point, but she wanted vindication before she walked out the front door.
Not wanting to risk the camera being tossed across the room, Alex placed it on the windowsill instead of handing it back to Nora. He placed a hand at the back of his neck. “And the hits just keep on coming,” he said, a slight strain in his voice. “Bryce Lipton’s son.”
Duncan removed the headphones. “Senator Lipton? The chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence? That Lipton?”
Nora stared into the distance. “Yes. Fucking yes.”
The room fell silent as the latest revelation was digested.
Alex finally spoke. “Nora, can you get your hands on ten grand by tomorrow afternoon?”
She stared at him, wondering what the hell he was thinking. She also noted there was a calmness about him which slightly put her at ease.
“Time to get some answers,” he said. “Can you get the money?”
“Yes, I can.”
CHAPTER 18
Day was politely giving way to night. The sunset was worth a thousand snapshots, and yet, as breathtaking as it was, it couldn’t come close to the beauty of the little girl in a floral dress. Her eyes were bright ovals of hazel, full of innocence and playfulness. Her golden hair was neatly combed, and her spotless yellow shoes were prized possessions, along with the freckled doll she snuggled. She had hardly touched her meal, but much to the large party’s delight, she was proving to be a perfect angel. Besides, she had other interests. She playfully peeked around her mother’s shoulder with those big eyes, only to disappear quickly, reemerging slowly once again. She had the stranger hooked. At first, he pretended not to notice, but that would be like avoiding an exploding star streaking across the night sky.
There was much to take in at the Palazzo Ouzeri restaurant along the Old Venetian port in Chania, Crete. The noise level was pleasant, the distant tone of people enjoying a respite from the rigors of everyday life. The food, relatively inexpensive, was nonetheless tasty, especially when accompanied by several glasses of Cretan wine. The smartly dressed man fit right in with the throng of people who were trying to relax. For most of the day he had hidden behind sunglasses: partly because the sun was bright, but mostly so he could observe without being exposed—and, most assuredly, so that he
Alex knew the story. Erica Janway had been chief of station in Moscow. Davis Lipton was reportedly a totally talentless prick placed on a fast track thanks entirely to family influence. He was someone Janway definitely had her doubts about. He wasn’t qualified enough to be under her supervision in such a vital and dangerous section of the world. But she was told he was there to stay. She understood why, but protested anyway. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, she did what she thought was the next best and most responsible thing. She made sure he didn’t get in harm’s way. That would ensure he wouldn’t get his stupid ass killed or, worse, get others who knew what they were doing killed.
Janway was eventually blindsided by allegations of harassment brought forth by him. Her drinking, although she was on the road to recovery, suddenly became a major area of concern. Men had been allowed to do it for decades, but for her, the game was not being played on the same field, and Lipton had benefactors. So, pending an investigation, she was called home from Moscow for desk duty at Langley. She felt her career was being flushed down the toilet by some little pissant who didn’t like being schooled, especially by a woman. Janway concluded the only recourse was to beat them to the plunger, so she filed a discrimination lawsuit. She had known she could kiss her career good-bye for sure at that point, but she wanted vindication before she walked out the front door.
Not wanting to risk the camera being tossed across the room, Alex placed it on the windowsill instead of handing it back to Nora. He placed a hand at the back of his neck. “And the hits just keep on coming,” he said, a slight strain in his voice. “Bryce Lipton’s son.”
Duncan removed the headphones. “Senator Lipton? The chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence? That Lipton?”
Nora stared into the distance. “Yes. Fucking yes.”
The room fell silent as the latest revelation was digested.
Alex finally spoke. “Nora, can you get your hands on ten grand by tomorrow afternoon?”
She stared at him, wondering what the hell he was thinking. She also noted there was a calmness about him which slightly put her at ease.
“Time to get some answers,” he said. “Can you get the money?”
“Yes, I can.”
CHAPTER 18
Day was politely giving way to night. The sunset was worth a thousand snapshots, and yet, as breathtaking as it was, it couldn’t come close to the beauty of the little girl in a floral dress. Her eyes were bright ovals of hazel, full of innocence and playfulness. Her golden hair was neatly combed, and her spotless yellow shoes were prized possessions, along with the freckled doll she snuggled. She had hardly touched her meal, but much to the large party’s delight, she was proving to be a perfect angel. Besides, she had other interests. She playfully peeked around her mother’s shoulder with those big eyes, only to disappear quickly, reemerging slowly once again. She had the stranger hooked. At first, he pretended not to notice, but that would be like avoiding an exploding star streaking across the night sky.
There was much to take in at the Palazzo Ouzeri restaurant along the Old Venetian port in Chania, Crete. The noise level was pleasant, the distant tone of people enjoying a respite from the rigors of everyday life. The food, relatively inexpensive, was nonetheless tasty, especially when accompanied by several glasses of Cretan wine. The smartly dressed man fit right in with the throng of people who were trying to relax. For most of the day he had hidden behind sunglasses: partly because the sun was bright, but mostly so he could observe without being exposed—and, most assuredly, so that he
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