of the day. She went inside her office and closed the door.
Sitting down at her desk, she opened her laptop, typed the address in the search bar and waited for the site to come up. She entered her secure password and waited for the page to appear.
The website was an online banking system in Switzerland in which she was an account holder. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page to look at it one more time. It was the fourth time she’d done it since meeting with Ms. Smith. There it was, two hundred and fifty million dollars. Untraceable. In a secure Swiss bank.
It wasn’t that she hated her government, it was just that she really loved money. And this was a lot of it. And not even all of it. This was just the first payment. And the reality of it was, if one had enough money, governments didn’t matter. And the deal she’d made was going to ensure enough money.
She was going to need to leave for a while, though. Once it happened, there would be no telling what the fallout would be or how long it would take. That also created a problem. She would pretty much be serving herself up as the culprit. But she was pretty sure that with two hundred and fifty million dollars already, and another one hundred still to come, she could provide herself with some safety. And besides, in just a few days, there would be so much chaos, she would be the least of anyone’s worries.
She closed the laptop and packed it inside her briefcase. She left her office and drove home to Arlington. She parked the car in the drive and looked at the house, a beautiful historic Georgian, over a hundred years old. She would miss this place. She had spent nearly a decade renovating it. There were a lot of good memories here. She quickly dismissed the thought. Three hundred and fifty million dollars could buy some pretty good memories, she decided.
She let herself into the house and placed her keys and phone on the table by the front door. She walked through the foyer toward the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Time to celebrate. Instead, she was met by an unannounced visitor standing by the counter.
“Ms. Smith,” she said, startled. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Really?” Ms. Smith sighed.
“Never mind.” She had forgotten, for a moment, Smith’s talents.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were going home.”
“I’m on my way to the airport. I just needed to stop by and tell you that Mr. Chin called.”
“And?”
“And he says they’re going to need more.”
“What! No! I’ve given that man everything he needs.”
“He says they do have what they need. For the initial agreement. But he wants to talk about something more involved.”
“Like what?”
“He wants to move some things south of the border.”
“What things? And why does he need me for that? I don’t run Mexico.”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t tell me. He wants to meet with you.”
“Listen, I’ve given him everything he needs for North Dakota, South Dakota, and Montana. That was the deal.”
“So what do you want me to tell him?”
“Nothing.”
“So you want me to tell him no?”
“No, I want you to tell him nothing. I’ll tell him. When does he want to meet?”
“A week from today. Same place.”
“Tell him I’ll be there, eight o’clock.”
“I’ll give him the message.” Smith turned and walked toward the front door.
CHAPTER 24
T he sun had begun to set by the time they left the bank. They spent a little time, just showing the photo around to the people in the area. No one had noticed the man, although Boz thought he’d seen someone who looked like that at the market across the street. So they tried the guy behind the counter, but he was no help either. Whether it was the Prophet or not, they decided that he was long gone by now, and so they decided to head to the warehouse—the reason for their Chicago trip. So they packed it up and headed out.
The FBI Suburban turned north
Sitting down at her desk, she opened her laptop, typed the address in the search bar and waited for the site to come up. She entered her secure password and waited for the page to appear.
The website was an online banking system in Switzerland in which she was an account holder. She scrolled down to the bottom of the page to look at it one more time. It was the fourth time she’d done it since meeting with Ms. Smith. There it was, two hundred and fifty million dollars. Untraceable. In a secure Swiss bank.
It wasn’t that she hated her government, it was just that she really loved money. And this was a lot of it. And not even all of it. This was just the first payment. And the reality of it was, if one had enough money, governments didn’t matter. And the deal she’d made was going to ensure enough money.
She was going to need to leave for a while, though. Once it happened, there would be no telling what the fallout would be or how long it would take. That also created a problem. She would pretty much be serving herself up as the culprit. But she was pretty sure that with two hundred and fifty million dollars already, and another one hundred still to come, she could provide herself with some safety. And besides, in just a few days, there would be so much chaos, she would be the least of anyone’s worries.
She closed the laptop and packed it inside her briefcase. She left her office and drove home to Arlington. She parked the car in the drive and looked at the house, a beautiful historic Georgian, over a hundred years old. She would miss this place. She had spent nearly a decade renovating it. There were a lot of good memories here. She quickly dismissed the thought. Three hundred and fifty million dollars could buy some pretty good memories, she decided.
She let herself into the house and placed her keys and phone on the table by the front door. She walked through the foyer toward the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. Time to celebrate. Instead, she was met by an unannounced visitor standing by the counter.
“Ms. Smith,” she said, startled. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
“Really?” Ms. Smith sighed.
“Never mind.” She had forgotten, for a moment, Smith’s talents.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were going home.”
“I’m on my way to the airport. I just needed to stop by and tell you that Mr. Chin called.”
“And?”
“And he says they’re going to need more.”
“What! No! I’ve given that man everything he needs.”
“He says they do have what they need. For the initial agreement. But he wants to talk about something more involved.”
“Like what?”
“He wants to move some things south of the border.”
“What things? And why does he need me for that? I don’t run Mexico.”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t tell me. He wants to meet with you.”
“Listen, I’ve given him everything he needs for North Dakota, South Dakota, and Montana. That was the deal.”
“So what do you want me to tell him?”
“Nothing.”
“So you want me to tell him no?”
“No, I want you to tell him nothing. I’ll tell him. When does he want to meet?”
“A week from today. Same place.”
“Tell him I’ll be there, eight o’clock.”
“I’ll give him the message.” Smith turned and walked toward the front door.
CHAPTER 24
T he sun had begun to set by the time they left the bank. They spent a little time, just showing the photo around to the people in the area. No one had noticed the man, although Boz thought he’d seen someone who looked like that at the market across the street. So they tried the guy behind the counter, but he was no help either. Whether it was the Prophet or not, they decided that he was long gone by now, and so they decided to head to the warehouse—the reason for their Chicago trip. So they packed it up and headed out.
The FBI Suburban turned north
Similar Books
