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Fools, he thought as he waited the requisite five minutes, his anger growing with each minute that passed. I’m surrounded by fools.
After five minutes he dialed a number. “What is the problem this time?” he asked when the call was answered.
“We need authorization to proceed with something other than the original approach.”
Vishenko knew the voice was referring to his carefully constructed plan—agonizing death by fire for all his targets. Without that, Vishenko would not receive the full measure of his revenge. “No!” he shouted into the phone. “The original plan must be followed.”
There was silence at the other end. “There is a problem with that.”
“What problem?”
“A secondary failure. And a custody issue.”
Vishenko translated the code phrases. Secondary failure—he’d already surmised as much. But custody issue was more serious. It meant one of his tools had been arrested.
“And what is your solution?” he asked.
“If we could deviate from the plan...it could also resolve the custody issue.”
“Then, do it,” he snapped. He barely disconnected the phone before adding viciously, “Just kill them. Any way you can.”
* * *
It was late when they arrived at the hospital in Sheridan, but the sun was still up. Cody left Keira guarding Callahan’s four-by-four and McKinnon guarding the front door of the hospital, while he and Callahan went up to Ted Danvers’s room to question him. At first the FBI agent stationed outside Danvers’ room refused to let them enter, but Callahan eventually convinced him they had legitimate business with the suspect.
Once inside they were confronted by another FBI agent. This one was even tougher to convince. Before he would let them interrogate Danvers, he called his superior, Agent Jeff Holmes, for permission, which was grudgingly given.
All told, it was almost thirty minutes before they were allowed to ask their first question...for all the good it did them. Ted Danvers might as well have been a sphinx. He answered none of their questions, just lay there secure in his rights against self-incrimination, his eyes glaring at both interrogators equally.
Finally Cody told Callahan, “Forget it. We’re wasting our time here.” He started for the door. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with Brad or Joe.”
“They won’t—” Danvers was startled into saying before he caught himself.
“They won’t what?” Callahan asked softly. “Talk?”
“Get the hell out of here,” Danvers grated. “I know my rights. I don’t have to talk to you. I want a lawyer.” Then he shut his eyes.
The FBI agent sitting next to the bed made a facial expression as if to say, “What did you expect?” as they left the room.
Cody and Callahan rode down in the elevator. Cody glanced at the older man and said, “At least we know we’re on the right track.”
“Yeah,” Callahan responded dryly. “But we’re a long way from making a case.”
They exited the elevator and walked to the front door, where McKinnon waited for them. The three men had no sooner stepped outside when FBI Agent Holmes appeared.
“Sorry,” Callahan said, meaning it. “We didn’t mean to drag you out here. We just needed to ask a few questions.”
Holmes’ jaw clamped tight for a moment. “It’s my case,” he said finally.
“Mine, too,” Cody said quietly.
Holmes bristled. “Look, Walker—”
“No, you look.” Cody was fed up with the FBI’s attitude toward the agency. “Didn’t they tell you it was my truck that was rigged to explode the other night, same as Callahan’s?” His voice held an edge of anger. “I’m just as much a target as Callahan here, and if it wasn’t for the agency, the FBI wouldn’t know a damn thing about it, wouldn’t know there’s a link between those two dead prosecutors and the attempts on us.” He took a step forward. “I’m sorry if you think I’m treading on your toes, but—”
McKinnon stepped between them. “Dial it back, Walker,” he said firmly. He glanced over his shoulder at Agent Holmes. “You, too. I know the FBI doesn’t like the agency, but we are on the same side. Aren’t we?” he added pointedly.
