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“You set him up nicely.”
“On the contrary, he dug his own grave.”
Paul held up her hands. “Check me for a wire if you want. You can be frank.”
Foster looked at her like she had lost her mind. “I need to get back to the party. And just in case you’re looking to get away, my men have all the exits locked down. I’ll look forward to seeing how many charges are filed against you.”
Foster started to walk out.
“It’s interesting about Mason Quantrell, isn’t it?”
Foster paused, her hand on the doorknob.
“Who?” she said.
“The Mercury Group? Mason Quantrell. Your partner in crime?”
“It’s appalling to see how far you’ve fallen. You used to be somewhat special. This performance is about as amateur and pathetic as I’ve ever seen.”
“Bunting is a very smart man. He outfoxed Quantrell,” said Paul. “He connected the dots and found the proof. Quantrell knows he’s going down for it. But he’s also looking to work a deal with the FBI. Care to guess what they’ll want in return?”
Foster just stood there, staring at her.
“Is this still an amateur production, Ellen?”
“I’m listening, if only for my own amusement.” However, the woman’s confidence was clearly diminished.
“The story won’t take long. Quantrell is about to rat you out.”
Foster managed a smile. “About what?”
Paul ticked them off on her left hand. “The six bodies in the barn. A dead lawyer and his secretary. A dead director of Cutter’s. A dead Maine state trooper. And most of all a dead FBI agent. The boys at Hoover really get pissed when you take out one of their own. And you didn’t have to, Ellen. So what if he found out about the E-Program? Did you really need to do that? He had three kids.”
“This is the biggest load of crap I have ever heard.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want my brother back, safe and sound. And I need you to do that.”
For the first time uncertainty crept into Foster’s eyes. “Your brother was broken out of Cutter’s Rock by people impersonating FBI agents. By you, in other words.”
“That was Quantrell’s people and you know it.”
“But—”
“But what? Did he feed you some bullshit that the plan didn’t go off? That he lost my brother?” Paul drew closer to the other woman. “I want Eddie back, Ellen. And one way or another I will get him back.” She paused and a look of incredulity came over her features as she studied the vacuous look on the other woman’s face. “Did Quantrell play you, too? Did he tell you that he would snatch Roy and then kill him? Blame Bunting? Hell, Bunting’s ass is already fried. The E-Program is over. You didn’t need Eddie for that. That’s just piling it on. My brother could just rot in that prison; it would make no difference to you. You already won. Didn’t you get that?”
She drew closer still, so she was looking right down at Foster. “Eddie is innocent. I couldn’t care less about the E-Program, but I’ll be damned if my brother is going to lose his life so you can score a useless victory over Peter Bunting. By now you must know the guy tricked you with his wife attempting suicide. He’s already gone somewhere that doesn’t extradite here.”
“I don’t know where your brother is, that’s the truth,” Foster said slowly.
Paul took a step back. “Then my coming to see you was a waste of time.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Foster answered in a hushed voice.
Paul said, “You’re the head of DHS, for God’s sake. You’re supposed to think this shit through, Ellen. And aligning yourself with Quantrell? Where did that brilliant idea come from? You knew that Bunting kicked his ass with the E-Program. So you had to know he wasn’t in the same league with Bunting brainwise. Did you think Bunting would just roll over and give up? He could eat Quantrell’s lunch any day of the week. You really picked your ally very poorly. Who the hell advised you to do that?”
