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“I was only . . .”
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear you speak yet. I’m still trying to figure out if you’re worth the risk.” Hurley leaned back and crossed his legs. “Turkey, and I’m not talking about Thanksgiving . . . I’m talking Midnight Express. Two stupid college kids deciding they’re going to try to bring a bunch of drugs out of the country and then sell them stateside and make a nice profit. I’m talking big hairy Turkish guards gang-raping a couple of East Coast journalism majors. I thought that nice little visual was seared into your brainpans, because it sure did seem like it when you were both bawling like babies for me to save your asses all those years ago.”
Bernstein looked solemnly at Hurley and said, “I have not forgotten the fact that you saved us, and I never will.”
“You’re not the one who worries me, Dick. It’s pretty boy here.”
Jones had managed to get some saliva in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to croak out his words. “I’m . . . I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling all that well and it’s put me in a bad mood.”
“Mood?” Hurley threw the word back with disgust. “Mood has nothing to do with this. This is serious shit, and while I know you think you made a deal with the devil, you should open your mind to the possibility that all these years you’ve spent rubbing elbows with all of your fellow bleeding-heart reporters has turned you into a half Commie.” Hurley leaned in close. “The U.S. of Fucking A. is not the bad guy in this fight. The CIA is not the bad guy, and if you opened your eyes and fucking looked around at all the nasty shit you’ve seen, you’d know that. We’re not perfect, but we’re a hell of a lot better than the opposition. Now . . . I’d like to hear from you, Brian, what in hell has been so difficult about our little relationship?”
Jones looked down at the chessboard and cleared his throat. “It’s just that it’s unethical for a journalist to work for you and your organization. It puts a lot of stress on me. If word ever got out . . .” His voice trailed off and he began to shake his head.
“Unethical.” Hurley laughed. “You mean like trying to transport illegal drugs from one country to another. Would that be unethical or should we just cut through the bullshit and elevate it to a crime punishable by twenty years in a Turkish prison?”
“We were young and stupid.”
“And now you’re older and still stupid. How about the cash I’ve given you over the years? I assume you assuaged your ethical burden by giving all the money to the Little Sisters of the Poor?”
Jones lifted his chin and shook his head.
“You know what, Brian, you need to get off your high horse. You’re not the only journalist I have in my pocket, and I didn’t even invent this game. There’s been plenty before you and will be plenty after you. You need to start thinking of me as your godfather. You think you would have won that Murrow Award three years ago if it wasn’t for me making sure you didn’t get shot?”
“Nope,” Bernstein said as if there were doubt in the statement.
“You need to listen to him more,” Hurley said, pointing to Bernstein. “Your problem, Brian, is that while you are basically a good guy, you are way too insecure. Stop worrying about what your colleagues think of you. A few of them might be your friends, but most of them would just as soon see you fall flat on your face and take your job. You made a deal with me a long time ago and I saved your ass. That is something you should never forget. If you’re willing to step back and take an honest look at this relationship, you’d understand this has been a very beneficial one for all of us. If you’re not willing to do that, then let’s end this thing right now, and trust me on this, I’ll be the one outing your ass and ruining your career, and a month from now they’ll find you swinging from the rafters of that cabin you have up in Thunder Lake. You’ll be so pumped full of drugs no one will doubt for a second that you committed suicide.”
A wide-eyed Jones asked, “How did you know I had a cabin on Thunder Lake?”
Hurley shook his head and said, “Oh, for Christ sake.” He turned to Bernstein and said, “I’m putting you in charge of him. You guys have fifteen minutes to get your shit together. A big guy named Victor is going to show up. If you guys aren’t here, I’ll assume you want to end our relationship, which would be really stupid, because I will assume you are now my enemy and I will be forced to put certain plans in motion . . . the kind of plans that will be nearly impossible to stop once they are started.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Bernstein offered quickly.
“Good. I’ll dispense with Victor for the moment. I assume you’re both familiar with the bloodbath that took place the other night?”
Jones gave his friend a See, I told you so look and asked, “At the hotel on the Seine?”
“Yep . . . Are you guys already covering it?”
“The bureau has someone on it.”
Hurley thought about that a second. “Maybe you should show some initiative. Start digging a bit. I assume you still have some contacts with the police.” Hurley had plenty of contacts of his own all over Paris, but he didn’t want to go tipping his hand. At the moment, everything he had was based on gossip and rumor. He needed the hard facts that the police were dealing with.
Bernstein scratched his beard. “We have some pretty decent sources, but this is Paris, so you know what that means.”
Hurley did and reached into his pocket. He retrieved a thick envelope. “Ten thousand francs. You need more, let me know.”
“Receipts?” Jones asked, regaining a bit of his sense of humor.
“Along with expense reports in triplicate, please.” Hurley pulled two relatively small devices from his pocket. He handed one to Jones and the other to Bernstein. “Those, gentlemen, are the newest in cell phone technology . . . the StarTAC by Motorola. My number is already programmed. As soon as you know something I want to know something.” Hurley also handed them two chargers. “We don’t think the French are up and running on intercepting these things yet, but let’s be careful. You’ve both made enough international calls to know how the game works.”
Both men nodded. They had indeed. Countries could get very ugly about foreign reporters wanting to tell the world about certain atrocities that they were committing. Jones and Bernstein often had to work out special codes with their producers back in New York.
“Also . . .” Hurley started, “I might need you to pull some surveillance shifts.”
Jones let out a moan that said You have got to be kidding me.
“Don’t worry,” Hurley said. “I’ll make sure you’re compensated. You get your head back in the game and get me what I need and I’ll make sure you both walk away from this with a fist full of cash.”
