eyes. “And?”
“Three million dollars. He wants you to make the drop.”
NINE
K ATE STOOD OFF TO THE SIDE, NOT WANTING TO BE NOTICED AS SHE watched Vail. They were in the L.A. FBI’s major-case room. Tom Demick, the tech agent who had so deftly opened Bertok’s apartment door, was taping a microphone wire to Vail’s bare chest. He looked over at her briefly and rolled his eyes in silent prediction that the Pentad’s ingenuity during the first two drops had already rendered the predictable device a waste of time. She smiled back obligingly and continued to search his face and body language for any sign of fear. His hands hung loosely at his side as Demick clipped the radio’s body into the back of his waistband. Vail turned back toward her, and she could see his heart beating against the lean muscle of his chest. She timed it—about forty beats a minute. She thought about the moment he had been asked to make the drop, even though West had died and Bertok had disappeared; he had shown no surprise or apprehension, almost as if he had expected it.
Vail leaned closer to the tech agent. “Did you get the pen register on Bertok’s phone?” he asked quietly.
“It’s up and running. I’m checking it as often as I can. Other than the ex-wife and brother, you want to be notified of any calls, right?”
Abruptly the door opened. The SAC, Mark Hildebrand, walked in and stepped to the side to allow Assistant Director Don Kaulcrick to pass. Kate and Vail looked at each other. Neither of them had any idea he was coming.
The two men were followed by three other people, one a female agent. She had in her hand one of two straps that were connected to a large canvas bag. A male agent, who stood well over six feet tall and was powerfully built, held the other. They both had on suit coats which rode up over holstered handguns and spare magazine pouches. Evidently the three million dollars had arrived.
The other man was older, almost completely bald, and dressed in a pair of slacks and a golf shirt. There was an air of confidence about him. He was carrying a large brown leather carryall the size of a small suitcase. Demick introduced everyone as Vail pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. The older man in casual clothing was a technical agent from headquarters and was introduced only as “Bob.” He asked Vail, “You’re making the drop?”
Vail looked at the athletic-looking agent holding the bag and then at Kaulcrick. “Unless the assistant director knows something I don’t.”
“You’re making the drop, Steve. But as a matter of fact I do know a little something that might change the way we’re going to do this.” Kaulcrick pulled a folded document fromhis coat pocket. “The lab has matched not only the paper from the pad you and Kate found hidden in Bertok’s bathroom to the last Pentad note, but its torn edge as well.”
“Then this is all Bertok,” Kate said.
“That seems like a fairly safe bet.”
Vail said, “So the money is just a way to catch him.”
“Can you think of a better way for us to get our hands on him?” Kaulcrick said.
“Does this mean we can go public if we catch Bertok?” Kate asked.
“The director, being a former federal judge, doesn’t want to take anything for granted. If we gave a big, splashy news release, the Pentad might kill someone else just to remain in character. If there is a Pentad beyond Bertok. Plus the demand note is very specific should anything go wrong. But let’s not worry about that until we get him into custody.” Kaulcrick handed Vail a sheet of paper. “This is a copy to keep with you.”
FBI,
Your agent’s greed has complicated everything, so contingencies have become necessary. If you fail to deliver $3M, the sum will be increased to $5M, and that would mean we owe you two more bodies. Two prominent D.C. area newspeople have been selected. As before, should any of this find its way to the media, there will be two less of them to write about
“Three million dollars. He wants you to make the drop.”
NINE
K ATE STOOD OFF TO THE SIDE, NOT WANTING TO BE NOTICED AS SHE watched Vail. They were in the L.A. FBI’s major-case room. Tom Demick, the tech agent who had so deftly opened Bertok’s apartment door, was taping a microphone wire to Vail’s bare chest. He looked over at her briefly and rolled his eyes in silent prediction that the Pentad’s ingenuity during the first two drops had already rendered the predictable device a waste of time. She smiled back obligingly and continued to search his face and body language for any sign of fear. His hands hung loosely at his side as Demick clipped the radio’s body into the back of his waistband. Vail turned back toward her, and she could see his heart beating against the lean muscle of his chest. She timed it—about forty beats a minute. She thought about the moment he had been asked to make the drop, even though West had died and Bertok had disappeared; he had shown no surprise or apprehension, almost as if he had expected it.
Vail leaned closer to the tech agent. “Did you get the pen register on Bertok’s phone?” he asked quietly.
“It’s up and running. I’m checking it as often as I can. Other than the ex-wife and brother, you want to be notified of any calls, right?”
Abruptly the door opened. The SAC, Mark Hildebrand, walked in and stepped to the side to allow Assistant Director Don Kaulcrick to pass. Kate and Vail looked at each other. Neither of them had any idea he was coming.
The two men were followed by three other people, one a female agent. She had in her hand one of two straps that were connected to a large canvas bag. A male agent, who stood well over six feet tall and was powerfully built, held the other. They both had on suit coats which rode up over holstered handguns and spare magazine pouches. Evidently the three million dollars had arrived.
The other man was older, almost completely bald, and dressed in a pair of slacks and a golf shirt. There was an air of confidence about him. He was carrying a large brown leather carryall the size of a small suitcase. Demick introduced everyone as Vail pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. The older man in casual clothing was a technical agent from headquarters and was introduced only as “Bob.” He asked Vail, “You’re making the drop?”
Vail looked at the athletic-looking agent holding the bag and then at Kaulcrick. “Unless the assistant director knows something I don’t.”
“You’re making the drop, Steve. But as a matter of fact I do know a little something that might change the way we’re going to do this.” Kaulcrick pulled a folded document fromhis coat pocket. “The lab has matched not only the paper from the pad you and Kate found hidden in Bertok’s bathroom to the last Pentad note, but its torn edge as well.”
“Then this is all Bertok,” Kate said.
“That seems like a fairly safe bet.”
Vail said, “So the money is just a way to catch him.”
“Can you think of a better way for us to get our hands on him?” Kaulcrick said.
“Does this mean we can go public if we catch Bertok?” Kate asked.
“The director, being a former federal judge, doesn’t want to take anything for granted. If we gave a big, splashy news release, the Pentad might kill someone else just to remain in character. If there is a Pentad beyond Bertok. Plus the demand note is very specific should anything go wrong. But let’s not worry about that until we get him into custody.” Kaulcrick handed Vail a sheet of paper. “This is a copy to keep with you.”
FBI,
Your agent’s greed has complicated everything, so contingencies have become necessary. If you fail to deliver $3M, the sum will be increased to $5M, and that would mean we owe you two more bodies. Two prominent D.C. area newspeople have been selected. As before, should any of this find its way to the media, there will be two less of them to write about
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