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“Wait!”
“Yes?”
“I think you do know my name. Sir.” She drew in a deep, audible breath as if steeling herself to something. “I caught the original of the tape of your men in
Congo.”
Silence.
“I reported it to Henry Yu.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ll hear you out.”
Riley started to speak then gave a great sob. Tears were in her voice, but not in her eyes. “I want my life back! Please! Oh please! It’s been hell since I intercepted the satellite download. It was pure coincidence I caught it and my life has been hell ever since! Oh God, please help me!”
Pierce was amazed. If you just listened to the voice, you got the impression of a helpless young woman, in over her head, trying desperately to disentangle herself from a situation bigger than she was. He almost believed her story that the video had fallen into her lap by coincidence, rather than her pursuing the story.
As long as he wasn’t looking at her, because she looked like a warrior. Eyes flashing, face set, body arrow-straight.
After another moment’s silence, Sommers spoke. “I don’t know what this has to do with me.”
A shudder ran through her. It was as if Riley’s light blue eyes shot lightning bolts, streaks of energy it almost hurt to watch.
He stood, ready to fight, to shoot, to do whatever the fuck she needed, but she didn’t need him. This was a situation he couldn’t help her with, in any way.
He would have gladly shot Sommers, if he could have. But he couldn’t. And he didn’t even know whether eliminating Sommers from the face of the earth, as satisfying as that sounded, would make Riley safe. There were others involved in this shitshow in the Sommers Group, and probably in the Pentagon.
All he could do was stand with her, ready to help in any way he could. And he knew ASI and Black Inc. stood ready, too.
But for the moment, it was her show.
“I-I think you do, Mr. Sommers.” Man, Riley deserved an Oscar. It was pitch-perfect. Timid and frightened, but sure of her facts, and determined. Exactly as would be a computer nerd who found herself in deep waters and wanted out. Sommers couldn’t know his web had snared a snarling dragon, not a timid girl. “I think you know what I have and what I can testify to. But … I don’t want it! I want out!” Her voice rose almost to hysteria. “I don’t want any part of this! Let me give you everything I have and just … justleave me alone!”
Pierce was standing right beside her and was almost convinced himself that she was harmless. All she wanted was out.
But he was standing right beside her, and all he could see was her determination. She wasn’t timid and afraid. She was brave and supersuperpissed.
Out of the receiver came a humming sound, someone contemplating. “Well, Ms. … Robinson, is it?” As if he didn’t have a complete dossier on her right in front of him. “I still don’t know what you want, but I am willing to talk.”
“Oh, thank God!” It was as if the exclamation came from deep within her. The answer to her prayers. “Yes! Oh my God, all I want is my life back and to put this whole mess behind me!”
“Well, let’s see what kind of mess there is then, Ms. Robinson.” Sommers’ tone had turned avuncular. Powerful older man going out of his way to help young woman. Out of the goodness of his heart. Pierce’s teeth ground together. This man had tried several times to kill Riley. “We should meet.”
“Yes! Yes!” Riley sobbed. “And I know just the place! Rock Creek Park. Out in the open. Safer for everyone.”
“No, Ms. Robinson, I think it’s best that you come to me—”
“No no!” Here her voice turned fearful. “I want it to be a public place. Picnic Grove 11, just off Nebraska Avenue. Along Binam Drive. I run there several times a week. I need a place that feels familiar.”
There was a pause. Pierce was certain Sommers was checking it out, and he was too. Picnic Grove 11 in Rock Creek Park was a picnic table with a stone grill to one side, with a small creek running behind it. Groves surrounded it, but about fifty yards away.
“I’ll meet you there in half an hour,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll bring everything. I want all of this to beover.”And she closed the connection, opened the burner phone, took out the battery and crushed it beneath her heel.
A blur of her fingers on her laptop and a man’s face appeared. He looked Indian, or at least Southeast Asian. Clearly a nerd, with a half-assed mangy goatee, glasses slipping down his nose, huge brown eyes.
He wore a serious expression.
“Ranesh, good to see you. I don’t have much time.”
