a subway station and drop me off," I said. "Tomorrow, when you're clean, you come along this street right here, and I'll be standing over there by that bus stop. About ten in the morning. Will that be enough time?"
"It's after rush hour. We should be clean by then."
"Have the guy driving the van meet us somewhere. I want to see him and the stuff in the van."
"Okay," Rich said, and flipped a cigarette away.
Al stood looking at the Conciergerie with his hands jammed in his trouser pockets. Finally he pulled one out, turned his jacket collar up to ward off the late-evening chill, then jammed that hand back where it belonged and started walking toward the car, which was two blocks away.
"Assholes," he muttered.
I wasn't sure whether he was referring to the French spooks or his present companions. He was going to be fun to be around for the next few weeks.
Jake Grafton had an interview with Sarah Houston at the American embassy.
"So how are you and Qarmellini getting along?"
"Fine," she snapped. She had no intention of discussing her relationship with Tommy Carmellini with anybody alive.
"Do you have any objection to working with him?"
"I have absolutely no desire to go back to Alderson.' She had served some time in the federal women's prison in Alderson, West Virginia. "To stay out of the can I'll work with the devil."
"I don't think we have to dig that deep for recruits just yet," Grafton said with a straight face. "I merely wished to confirm that you had no objection to working with Mr. Carmellini."
She shook her head. Although her lips were compressed in a thin line, Grafton noticed, she seemed relaxed.
"Or me," he added.
"I don't like where this conversation is going. Just what do you have in mind?"
"Fair question," Grafton admitted. "I was thinking of having you turn traitor."
Sarah Houston's mouth fell open and she gawked.
"I was thinking you and Tommy might sell access to Intelink to our French friends."
She closed her mouth and kept her eyes glued on his.
Grafton kept talking. "Terry Shannon is a CIA traitor who wants to make a big score and live happily ever after. You are his girlfriend, the NSA analyst with the access to Intelink. You were on the software team and Shannon has convinced you to install a trapdoor. You hate your job, your bosses don't appreciate you, and you're madly in love with Shannon."
"They'll never believe that!"
"We'll have to make them believe it."
"Do you really intend to give them Intelink?"
"I'll give them a peek at a fake Intelink. That'll be enough."
She snorted. "You have got to be kidding!"
••I" »
I m not. She pursed her lips and gave a low whistle. Then she rubbed her forehead. "The French will never buy it."
Grafton waved that away. "Will you give it a try ?"
"No. Hell no! I'm supposed to be rotting in a federal prison right this very minute. You ought to know—you put me there. They're going to check me every way from Sunday and find out I'm hot. And by hot I don't mean sexy."
"The last thing in the world they will want is for any information about you or Intelink to get out," Grafton pointed out.
"Rodet won't be the only one at the DGSE who knows. One photo in the papers and I'm toast. One nosy reporter bastard and I'll be in a cell until the day I die. I'm not complaining—I deserve it for what I did—but I am not going to do anything that increases the odds that I'll go back to that shithole. Nothing. I will do nothing!" Her voice rose until it cracked. Whispering, she added, "Goddamn hell no, Admiral. Get another sucker."
"Unfortunately, you're the only one I have," Jake Grafton said, and sighed.
CHAPTER SIX
Henri Rodet's chateau on the bank of the Marne, twenty-some miles upriver from Paris, was the kind of place I am going to buy if Warren Buffet ever adopts me. Salazar parked the car beside an inn across the river from Rodet's little piece of paradise. Through the trees I could see the main
"It's after rush hour. We should be clean by then."
"Have the guy driving the van meet us somewhere. I want to see him and the stuff in the van."
"Okay," Rich said, and flipped a cigarette away.
Al stood looking at the Conciergerie with his hands jammed in his trouser pockets. Finally he pulled one out, turned his jacket collar up to ward off the late-evening chill, then jammed that hand back where it belonged and started walking toward the car, which was two blocks away.
"Assholes," he muttered.
I wasn't sure whether he was referring to the French spooks or his present companions. He was going to be fun to be around for the next few weeks.
Jake Grafton had an interview with Sarah Houston at the American embassy.
"So how are you and Qarmellini getting along?"
"Fine," she snapped. She had no intention of discussing her relationship with Tommy Carmellini with anybody alive.
"Do you have any objection to working with him?"
"I have absolutely no desire to go back to Alderson.' She had served some time in the federal women's prison in Alderson, West Virginia. "To stay out of the can I'll work with the devil."
"I don't think we have to dig that deep for recruits just yet," Grafton said with a straight face. "I merely wished to confirm that you had no objection to working with Mr. Carmellini."
She shook her head. Although her lips were compressed in a thin line, Grafton noticed, she seemed relaxed.
"Or me," he added.
"I don't like where this conversation is going. Just what do you have in mind?"
"Fair question," Grafton admitted. "I was thinking of having you turn traitor."
Sarah Houston's mouth fell open and she gawked.
"I was thinking you and Tommy might sell access to Intelink to our French friends."
She closed her mouth and kept her eyes glued on his.
Grafton kept talking. "Terry Shannon is a CIA traitor who wants to make a big score and live happily ever after. You are his girlfriend, the NSA analyst with the access to Intelink. You were on the software team and Shannon has convinced you to install a trapdoor. You hate your job, your bosses don't appreciate you, and you're madly in love with Shannon."
"They'll never believe that!"
"We'll have to make them believe it."
"Do you really intend to give them Intelink?"
"I'll give them a peek at a fake Intelink. That'll be enough."
She snorted. "You have got to be kidding!"
••I" »
I m not. She pursed her lips and gave a low whistle. Then she rubbed her forehead. "The French will never buy it."
Grafton waved that away. "Will you give it a try ?"
"No. Hell no! I'm supposed to be rotting in a federal prison right this very minute. You ought to know—you put me there. They're going to check me every way from Sunday and find out I'm hot. And by hot I don't mean sexy."
"The last thing in the world they will want is for any information about you or Intelink to get out," Grafton pointed out.
"Rodet won't be the only one at the DGSE who knows. One photo in the papers and I'm toast. One nosy reporter bastard and I'll be in a cell until the day I die. I'm not complaining—I deserve it for what I did—but I am not going to do anything that increases the odds that I'll go back to that shithole. Nothing. I will do nothing!" Her voice rose until it cracked. Whispering, she added, "Goddamn hell no, Admiral. Get another sucker."
"Unfortunately, you're the only one I have," Jake Grafton said, and sighed.
CHAPTER SIX
Henri Rodet's chateau on the bank of the Marne, twenty-some miles upriver from Paris, was the kind of place I am going to buy if Warren Buffet ever adopts me. Salazar parked the car beside an inn across the river from Rodet's little piece of paradise. Through the trees I could see the main
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