Page 9 of The Shadow Friends

“I have my husband. And some very good friends.”

“Ah yes, your husband.” He took a sip of whisky and gave her a dubious smile. “Lloyd seems pleasant enough.”

She set down her glass with a thump. “All right. Let’s cut through the bullshit. What are you really doing in Purity?”

“Attending your conference.”

“That’s the only reason?”

“It gave me a chance to catch up with you.”

“But you didn’t come all this way just to see me.”

He gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m also here to do a little scouting for Argus. You might have heard of it.”

“The company you founded. You chose an interesting name.”

He nodded. “I named it after the mythical Argus Panoptes. The giant with a hundred eyes. It’s an apt description for what we do.”

“Private intelligence, you mean?”

“I just couldn’t seem to walk away from it. I tried to retire. After I left the Agency, I played a lot of golf, climbed a few mountains, stretched out on a few beaches. And I got utterly, miserably bored. So I jumped back into the business. The private sector, it turns out, pays much better.” He waved to the cocktail waitress, pointed to his empty glass, then refocused on Ingrid. “Much better,” he repeated.

“Who are your clients?”

“Our list is confidential, but let’s just say it includes large corporations, law firms. The occasional government agency.”

“Including our own?”

He paused, looking down at his empty glass. “I don’t have to tell you the world has changed, Ingrid. This new leadership has turned things upside down, undermined everything we once believed in. There are people in the Agency—good people, patriots—who aren’t happy that we’ve turned our backs on tried-and-true allies. That we’re now cozying up with our old enemies. More than a few old friends have been purged from the Agency, and now they’re working for Argus. These are experienced, well-connected people in key places. We have intelligence collectors in thirty-three countries, with more joining us.”

“The hundred eyes of Argus.”

“I’d like it to be a hundred and one eyes. That’s one of the reasons I’m here.” He paused as the waitress returned with a refill of their whiskies. Ingrid had already had enough to drink, but now that a fresh glass was sitting in front of her, she automatically lifted it to her lips, if only to steady herself for what she knew was coming.

“I need people with deep backgrounds in intelligence,” he said. “Especially people with operational experience.”

“Operational? You’ve moved beyond just intelligence gathering?”

“Yes, we now have an operational wing. It’s become necessary, given current circumstances. The Agency is paralyzed. Everyone’s looking over their shoulders, afraid that they’ll get booted out if they make the wrong moves. So no one makes any moves at all, and nothing gets done. Not officially, anyway. But unofficially, things can get done, and they turn to Argus to do it. That’s why I’m recruiting people with experience in the field. People I trust and respect.” He took a sip. “That would be you.”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m retired.”

“So was I.”

“I’m not bored.”

“Which surprises me.” He looked at the people gathered at the bar. “Is this really enough for you?”

“Why do you keep doubting me?”

“Because I know that mind of yours never stops working. It needs stimulation. This job would take you all over the world again. We have offices in London, Geneva, and DC. If a client wants a dossier on a French presidential candidate, off you’ll go to Paris. It’s the same work we did before, but in so many ways it’s easier. We can operate in the gray zone, with no artificial divide between foreign and domestic, and without any bureaucratic bullshit. Now tell me the truth. You do miss it, don’t you?”

“That work was for our country.”

“Well, our country has drastically altered course. And you know as well as I do that patriotism hardly pays.”

“And you feel good about this? Doing it for the money?”