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“Back then?” McKinnon laughed suddenly. “You still do. But that’s okay. You get the job done, and that’s all that really matters. It must run in the family.” He shifted gears. “So, what were you starting to say you didn’t tell Keira about Lieutenant Mateja?”
“Oh, right. I forgot to tell Keira I was going to ask Angelina to make a list of everything she could remember about her cousin. Everything that might possibly help Keira track her down. I know it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack, but—”
“But if anyone can do it, your sister can,” McKinnon finished for him.
“Exactly.”
“Sounds good. So what do you want me to focus on?”
“Keira’s checking out the seven names. But I need notarized witness statements—or the Zakharian equivalent—from the two canaries the police have in custody if we’re going to apply for search warrants, including wiretaps. I also want you to interview those two men, see what kind of witnesses they’d make in an American court.” He didn’t have to say it—both men knew American juries tended to distrust criminals with foreign accents. Especially criminals who were trying to cut a deal by testifying. The propensity for lying or stretching the truth to make their own sentences lighter made them less than trustworthy witnesses—or so the defense attorneys would allege. Another thing they’d have to contend with.
“And if you can, I’d like you to interview the other three Zakharians who are in custody. I don’t have to tell you how to do your job—”
McKinnon cut him off. “That’s right, you don’t.”
Alec smiled at how the tables had been turned on him in this, too. “Humor me,” was all he said. When McKinnon made a gesture signifying for him to continue, he added, “I was thinking if you interviewed them all together, and they thought you spoke only English...”
“You read my mind,” McKinnon said in fluent Zakharan. The two men smiled at each other in perfect understanding. “Speaking the language didn’t do us a damn bit of good when the State Department wanted us to spy on Mara for them,” McKinnon said judiciously, “because there wasn’t anything to learn. But in this case...”
“There’s nothing like having an ace up your sleeve when you’re playing poker with men who’d just as soon slit your throat than let you win a pot,” Alec said with a laugh. “Okay, we’re on the same page there. I think that’s it for now. I want—” The buzzer on Alec’s phone sounded, interrupting what he was going to say. He frowned. “I told Tahra I didn’t want to be interrupted unless it was the ambassador, so maybe...” He hit the speaker button. “Yes, Tahra?”
“There’s someone to see you, sir,” Tahra said. “I told him you were in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed, but he said it can’t wait. He’s quite insistent.” There was an odd tone in Tahra’s voice, and it was the tone more than her words that made Alec say, “I’ll be right out.” He disconnected and told McKinnon, “Give me a minute. Something’s not right.”
Alec crossed the room and jerked the door open. Captain Marek Zale was standing by Tahra’s desk at military attention, an attitude that seemed to afflict all those who served in the Zakharian National Forces even when they weren’t in uniform. Alec didn’t know how the captain had managed to get past Security downstairs, unless Tahra had authorized his entry. From the captain’s stony-eyed expression and the way he was studiously avoiding looking at Tahra, not to mention the distress and betrayal on Tahra’s face, Alec put two and two together and came up with...four?
Tahra wouldn’t authorize just anyone to enter this restricted area of the embassy. Which meant she had to know Captain Zale in something other than his official capacity. Is he Tahra’s mysterious Zakharian date? Alec wondered. Is that how he managed to convince Tahra to let him in past Security?
And if he was the man Tahra was suddenly interested in, was it more than just a coincidence Captain Zale just happened to ask Alec’s shy administrative assistant for a date? And if I believe that, he told himself wryly, there’s this bridge in Brooklyn...
“You needed to see me now, Captain Zale?” he asked coolly. “It can’t wait?”
The other man folded his lips tightly together as if he was keeping hasty words in. Hot words he might regret. “No,” he said finally. “It cannot wait. It concerns Lieutenant Mateja.”
A dart of fear shot through Alec. Had something happened to Angelina? He’d left her safely in her apartment, but what if she’d gone somewhere? Traffic accident? He remembered telling Angelina that with the jobs they did, one of them could be dead tomorrow. If something had happened to her... Please, God, no. No! But all he said out loud was, “Come into my office, Captain.”
