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He looked at Chapman. “You two make a good team, unless my instincts have totally deserted me. Watch out for each other.” He turned to leave. “Oh, and Oliver?”
“Yes?”
“I’m actually quite glad you have these Camel Club people on your side.”
“So am I.”
“Remember, all the king’s horses and all the king’s men.”
“I remember.”
“One more thing. There’s a car waiting outside to take you to the WFO. The FBI wants to talk to you two.” McElroy twirled his cane in the air. “Good luck.”
CHAPTER 48
THE RIDE TO THE WFO was made in silence; the two agents in front didn’t look at or speak to them. They were escorted into an elevator once they arrived and rode it up to a higher floor. They got off and followed two other agents to a large conference room with a table that would accommodate a dozen. There were only three people sitting at it, though. One was the FBI director, the other his second in command. And the third was Agent Laura Ashburn, who’d approached Stone in the park the previous night after grilling him about Tom Gross’s death.
The director was a short man with a pugnacious face and a brisk manner. Of all the bureaucrats in Washington, the FBI director was the one with real independence. His tenure did not end with an election result. It continued on for the full ten-year term no matter who won the Oval Office.
He asked them to sit, shuffled some papers in front of him, adjusted his glasses and looked up at them.
“Agent Stone. Agent Chapman. I am trying to come fully up to speed on this thing, but the more I get into it the more confusing it becomes. I would like you to start from the beginning and tell me all that you’ve discovered, all that you’ve deduced and all that you are currently speculating about.”
“Does this mean I’m not going to be taken off the case, sir?” Stone asked.
The director glanced at Ashburn and back at Stone. “I’ve read the report. The amended report filed by Agent Ashburn here. Suffice it to say you won’t be taken off this investigation. Now I’d like to hear both of your reports.”
“It may take a while,” Stone advised him.
“This is my top priority.” He settled back in his chair.
Three hours later they finished talking. Ashburn and the ADIC had taken copious notes on their laptops. Even the director had scribbled down some key points.
“My God,” said Ashburn. “Attacked at your home? Why didn’t you report it?”
“Since I don’t know who ordered the hit I wasn’t comfortable reporting it to anyone.”
The director grimaced. “You can trust the FBI, Stone.”
Stone looked at Chapman with an uneasy expression. She gave a slight nod.
Stone turned to the director. “There’s one more thing, sir.”
The agents focused on him.
“What is it?” asked the director.
“My friend who was attacked in Pennsylvania managed to salvage a bit of evidence from the crime scene.”
“More than what our people found?”
“A bit more, yes. It was a Russian-made submachine gun.”
The trio of agents sat back as though connected by wire.
“And the Latino workers they talked to at the bar before they were attacked saw two men taking down a basketball hoop at the tree farm. According to them the men were speaking an unusual language. It might’ve been Russian.”
The director eyed his two colleagues, put down his pen and stroked his chin.
When he didn’t say anything, Stone said, “I had a conversation previously with someone you know very well.”
“Who was that?”
“He lives in the casa blanca.”
“All right. Go on.”
“He told me that the Russians had taken over the drug business in the western hemisphere, ripping it out of the Mexicans’ hands.”
“That’s true, they have. Carlos Montoya and the others are, in essence, out of business in their own country.”
Ashburn spoke up. “But what motivation would the Russian cartels have for exploding a bomb in Lafayette Park?”
“The president said that as far as this country was concerned the Russian government and the Russian cartels were one and the same. Do you agree with that assessment?” Stone looked at the director expectantly.
He looked uncertain but finally said, “I would not disagree with it.” He tapped the table with his pen. “So what would be their possible motivation to explode that bomb and then do all the rest?”
“To show that they can, perhaps,” said Stone.
“I don’t buy that. And the Yemen terrorist group that claimed responsibility?”
“Easily manipulated. And I don’t believe that the Russians did it just to show they could.”
“What then?”
“I spent some time in Russia decades ago. The one thing I learned is that the Russians are some of the most cunning people on earth. They never do anything without a very good reason. And just because they’re no longer a superpower doesn’t mean they don’t want to be again. The president has the same opinion.”
“So this is some plot by the Russians to gain global prominence again,” said the director.
“We certainly can’t discount that possibility.” Stone folded his arms over his chest and said, “And why does none of this seem to surprise you?”
The director didn’t flinch at this blunt remark. He picked up another piece of paper. “We got some forensics tests back. The substance Agent Chapman found on the floor of the government office building has been found to match a certain weapon.”
“It was the lubrication oil for the TEC-9 submachine gun, wasn’t it,” said Chapman.
“Yes.”
“So they did fire from there.”
“Appears to be the case.”
A few seconds passed. “Is there something else?” asked Stone. The director was looking off and seemed to have forgotten there were other people in the room.
“John Kravitz.”
“What about him?”
“He also spent time in Russia.”
“When?”
“When he was in college. He was already on a couple of our watch lists. We believe he went over there to hook up with a group that specializes in mass disinformation campaigns on the Internet.”
“But nothing violent?” asked Chapman.
“No, but the nonviolent can quickly become violent. We’ve all seen that.”
