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I wondered if special and special were forced to be roomies. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.
A frosted glass panel separated a small sitting area on the left from the footage devoted to sleeping. In it, a side counter held a minifridge and microwave that might have been new in the eighties.
The hotel’s decorator was exceedingly fond of lime green. And dark wicker. Monck and I settled on a couch featuring both. Ditto the chairs taken by our hosts.
The HVAC below the window at my side was noisy but effective, keeping the room temperature near that of shaved ice. Within seconds, goosebumps covered my arms.
“Sorry, but there’s no time to order up coffee.” Rossiter’s apology masked a tension he was trying to hide.
“I can see you’re shattered.” Monck sounded like a man craving caffeine. And looked like a man who really didn’t need it.
I expected the interview to focus on Cloke. I was wrong.
“Tell us what you know about Joe Benjamin.” Rossiter sounded as if he actually expected compliance with his opener.
Cupping his prosthetic hand in his real palm, Monck frowned. “Your dance. You lead.”
A low wicker table occupied the space between the sofa and chairs. A beat, then Rossiter pulled a brown file folder from a briefcase beneath it and laid it on the glass.
I expected drama. Bold red warnings.Top Secret.Confidential.For Your Eyes Only.
I was wrong again. The only thing printed on the dossier’s cover was a signature grid. A single name on the top line.
“There’s no time to be coy. I’m going to put it right out there. We think our agent has gone rogue.”
“Cloke.”
“Yes. And we suspect he’s working with Joe Benjamin.”
“Working on what?”
Wordlessly, Rossiter added a MacBook Air to the tabletop. Booted it and began typing.
Reid jerked his right ankle up onto his left knee. Hiked and lowered his shoulders. Though his eyes remained glued to the raised shoe, the man’s disapproval was palpable.
Rossiter spoke after hitting a bazillion keys. “The data I’m about to share is encrypted. To gain access, I’m entering a passcode known solely to me. It will work only once. The file cannot be copied, downloaded, or printed.”
My eyes met Monck’s. I could tell that his anger was still in high gear. And that, like me, he was anxious. And curious as hell.
“What you will see is part of a communiqué delivered to the FAA, TCCA, CAA, and EASA.”
At Monck’s blank look, Rossiter elaborated.
“The Federal Aviation Administration, Transport Canada Civil Aviation, the Civil Aviation Authority, and the European Union Aviation Safety Agency.”
“The bodies that regulate air travel in the US, Canada, the UK, and Europe,” I clarified, feeling a chill not coming from the raucous unit at my side.
“Yes.”
Rossiter rotated the laptop.
Monck and I leaned toward the screen.
Read.
My breath froze.
34
