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“This is bullshit.” McMahon tossed the contract on the table. “I’m not signing anything.”
Baker looked to Kennedy, who was speed-reading through the document. “Irene?”
Without looking up, she asked, “Cap, tell me why it would be in my interest to sign this.”
“It’s not in your interest. It’s in mine. But if you want to see what I have inside that briefcase, you’re going to have to sign this contract.”
“Why us?” asked McMahon.
“Good question.” Baker placed his hands on his knees and thought about it for a second. “Three reasons where you’re concerned, Special Agent McMahon. The first, as far as feds are concerned, you’re someone who is known for his discretion. The second, what I’m about to show you will have a direct impact on your current investigation.”
“And your third point?”
“You’re a son of a bitch, you hate politicians, and you can’t be bought.”
“That’s five points,” McMahon said flatly.
“Yeah,” Baker grinned, “but the last three kind of go together, so we’ll just count them as one.”
“He’s hard to argue with,” smiled Kennedy. She then turned to Baker and asked, “Why me?”
“That’s easy. I lived in awe of Thomas Stansfield and so did you. He was a good friend…a mentor. This town has never had anyone who worked so effectively behind the scenes. Before he died he told me to keep an eye on you. He also told me that you were someone I could trust.”
Kennedy pulled off her reading glasses and looked at Baker. Thomas Stansfield had occupied this very office until cancer took his life two years earlier. He had also been a mentor to Kennedy. He was the greatest man she had ever known and he had told her the same thing about Baker. Without further thought, Kennedy flipped the contract to the last page and signed above her printed name.
“What are you doing?” asked McMahon.
Kennedy slid the contract in front of Baker so he could sign. “Skip, just sign it so we can get this over with. I don’t think Cap would have gone to this effort if it wasn’t something serious.”
“But I need to run this by Justice. I can’t just go around signing confidentiality agreements while I’m on the government dime.”
Kennedy glanced at him sideways. “Since when do you care about what Justice thinks? Just let go of your control issues and sign it.”
Kennedy handed him her pen. McMahon hesitated for a second and then took it and signed his name.
“If this comes back and bites me in the ass, I’m going to make someone’s life miserable.”
Baker laughed as he took the contract from McMahon. “Don’t worry, in about two minutes this contract is going to be the least of your worries.”
The attorney finished notarizing the contracts and placed them back in the briefcase. Baker stuck out his hand and Wright gave him a legal-size manila envelope.
“Thank you, Charles. Why don’t you wait for me down in the car.”
The attorney left without saying a word, and when the door closed behind him McMahon said, “This better be pretty fucking good.”
“That’s going to depend on how you look at it.” Baker stared at the mysterious envelope in his hands. “Let me ask you something, Agent McMahon. How is your investigation going?”
“That’s confidential.”
“I hear it’s pretty one-dimensional.”
“What’s that supposed to
mean?”
Baker shrugged. “You guys are only looking at this one way.”
“When all the evidence points in one direction, that’s pretty much the way it works.”
