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Savich said, “The name of the man you killed Monday night is Razhan, an Iranian security agent who did wet work for them. He’s worked globally for fifteen years. The fact you shot him and not vice versa is amazing.”
Olivia chewed that over. “If you could find him, then the CIA found him too.” She paused. “But why wouldn’t they tell me?”
“Actually, I called Mr. Lodner, gave him Razhan’s name. He wasn’t happy, said of course he knew of Razhan and was on the point of calling me and giving me the information. Then he wanted to know how I’d found out so quickly.”
“You embarrassed him.” She grinned, quickly quashed it. “I wish I could have heard you. I imagine Mr. Lodner never believed you’d find diddly-squat. How did you find out it was this Razhan?”
Savich glanced down at MAX beside him, smiled. “I have my ways. Now, Razhan entered the US alone on Sunday, using an excellently forged French passport. We’re working on where he stayed and who he met here in Washington.”
Olivia said slowly, “A French passport. I wonder why French?”
He nodded. “Common enough not to be noticed. But there could very well be a connection.”
“I’ve never heard of him, but I think it’s luck that saved me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You saved yourself.”
She cocked her head at him. “All right, going belly-to-the-ground was a reflex I guess you’d call it, the result of really good training. You said the team who attacked me at my home didn’t necessarily mean to kill me.”
Savich said, “On the surface it seems so, but whoever was behind it could have believed you know what’s on that flash drive, or where Mike is. As I said, it’s more likely they were there to take you, find out what you know, maybe lead them to Mike. I can see no reason for them to bring in an assassin to kill you if there were no reason.”
“Yes, yes, of course you’re right.”
Savich leaned forward and took her hands in his. “Olivia, you say you don’t know anything, but there are blank spots in your memory about what happened in Iran after the RPG knocked you sideways, isn’t that right?”
She nodded. “The doctors said my head injury was serious, that it might take a long time for me to remember everything that happened that day. Maybe I never will.”
He said, “I know a psychiatrist, Dr. Emanuel Hicks. Would you like to see if he can help you find out if you heard what that dying agent told Mike Kingman?”
“You mean hypnosis?”
“Yes. Dr. Hicks is the best I know. You can trust him completely. I’ve worked with him for years.”
“I’ve never been hypnotized before. Maybe I wouldn’t go under.”
Savich looked down at his Mickey Mouse watch, then up at her again. “Let Dr. Hicks worry about that. To be honest, I already called him, told him a little bit about you. He said since you were CIA, you might be more comfortable coming to his home rather than to Quantico. Shall we go see him?”
