Agent X - Boyd Noah - Страница 79

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Vail looked at the bill and then took out the pen the CIA agent had given him. As he started to write in the waiter’s tip, the pen slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Vail bent over and picked it up. Outside the Russian’s line of vision, he pushed the clicker, silently discharging a mist of the ultraviolet powder, covering Branikov’s shoes. Vail straightened up and attempted to write with the atomizer pen and then took the waiter’s pen and signed the receipt.

“Thank you, Steve. You know, it’s too bad you don’t do this for a living. It would have made life infinitely more interesting to have you around.” Branikov got up and walked out, giving Bursaw a last hard look.

A few minutes later, Vail and Bursaw walked out into the parking lot and over to the CIA agent’s car. Vail took out Rellick’s phone and handed it to him.

“That’s it? He loaded it into his phone?” the agent asked.

“The list is in there.”

“And you didn’t read it.”

“It’s no longer any of my business, so no.”

“We appreciate it,” the agent said, and got back into his car. The two men watched him pull out of the lot before getting back into theirs.

Bursaw said, “Okay, I’m just a common street agent, incapable of understanding the subtleties of counterintelligence. What just happened?”

“Branikov was responsible for everything. He’s the one who contracted the LCS to carry out Kate’s ‘suicide.’ But between our being unable to prove it and his diplomatic immunity, he was going to get away with everything. You know how I feel about that. So before I left for Florida, I asked the CIA to identify the phone number that called Rellick’s phone that night in the park. I knew that they had a source in the Russian embassy, because they gave us some information from him early on in the Calculus case. So when they identified Branikov as Rellick’s handler, they had their source in the embassy leak it out that Branikov was a double agent and that he was being handled by a fictitious CIA officer named Donald Winston, and that he went to the gym every day. A technique they commonly use is spy dust. When they know their suspected man’s contact—in this case Winston—they find a way to put dust in his car and then discreetly keep checking Branikov’s clothing to see if it shows up. If it does, they know that he’s been in the car and doubling. Three days ago the CIA found the dust in Winston’s car. So they collected it and loaded it into the pen, which I just used to spray Branikov’s shoes with.”

“So they’re already suspicious of him, and when they find the dust on his shoes, they’ll start putting him through the grinder.”

“I can’t speak for Russian bureaucracy, but that’s the way it looks on the drawing board. And as soon as the Bureau starts making arrests off the lists that were in Zogas’s computers, Branikov’s looking at some serious gulag time. At best.”

Bursaw laughed. “It does have a nice symmetrical irony to it, since the dust was part of Kate’s frame. Like the Bible says: ‘Dust to dust.’ ”

“I think the thing I like best about you, Luke, is you appreciate just how flawed an individual I am.”

“That’s very flattering—I think—but you’re still buying dinner.”

“Let’s go meet your Thai hostess.”

They drove for a while before Bursaw asked, “Well, how was wreck diving?”

“It was okay, you know.”

“I never really take vacations, but aren’t you supposed to look at least a little bit happy when you come back?”

“Sounds like I’m about to be the recipient of well-intentioned but pointless meddling,” Vail said.

“As a friend it’s my job to stick my nose in your business.”

“Right now that would be a good way to end our friendship.”

“Okay, what do you want to talk about?”

“Catch me up on what’s been going on since I left.”

“We found six bodies in the well. They’ve only been able to identify two of them—Sundra and that missing air force sergeant. The lye had been working on the others for a while, so we may never know who they are.”

“And what are you doing with all your free time now?”

“I do have one fairly large bone to pick with you. They’ve got me working counterintelligence because I know all the players, and thanks to you they figure I can keep my mouth shut.”

“Glad to help.”

“Actually, it’s not that bad. We’re going after guys we know are spies. It’s not like the rest of the time where you’re guessing and hoping. And if I get bored, I’ll do something not so surprisingly stupid and be sent back to WFO. You know me, whatever way the wind blows.”

“For someone with a degree in philosophy, you have an extraordinary lack of it in your personal life.”

“Said the bricklayer with a master’s degree.”

Vail smiled. “It’s like that old Bureau adage, ‘If you want something done right, go find yourself a misfit.’ ”

Bursaw watched the street in front of him for a few blocks before saying, “So you’re not going to ask?”

Vail looked at him and then went back to staring out the windshield. “Okay, how is she?”

“Was that so hard?” Bursaw demanded.

“Don’t press your luck. How is she?”

“You would think with all the press she’s gotten for taking down the LCS and cleaning up the little problem inside our own hallowed halls, she’d be on top of the world, but I think her face is at least as long as yours. You should try to see her before you go.”

“I gave that a lot of thought when I was gone. I think we’re both too comfortable with being mildly unhappy. It precludes unhappiness on a larger scale.”

“And you talk about my personal philosophy being misguided.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? The thing that brought Kate and me together is what ultimately keeps us apart. We’re a great match working together, and the little time spent completely away from the job has been very good, but invariably her work creeps back in and that’s the end of it.”

“She told me how this case has gotten in the way. Not that she had to tell me how you are. But it’s over now. I don’t have all the particulars, but knowing you, I’m going to guess it’s long past your turn to blink.”

“I said some things that would be hard for her to forgive. She’ll be better off if I just get out of here.”

“And how would you be?”

Vail stared at him for a few moments. “You’re a good friend, Luke.”

Bursaw pulled in to a parking space. “In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen anyone change your mind, so I’m done trying.” He turned off the engine. “Let’s eat.”

As Vail got out of the car, he realized that they were in the section of Georgetown where he and Kate had gone to dinner the night they’d arranged her escape. He and Bursaw walked into the same small courtyard where they had window-shopped. It was late enough that all the stores were closed but one. Vail glanced into the window of the art gallery where he and Kate had stood that night when he told her about his father.

There were four new sculptures, a series, depicting the same woman in varying poses, all draped with sheer fabric that was somehow more sensuous than if she’d been nude. Three of them had Sold signs placed next to them. “What the—” Vail looked back for Bursaw, hoping that his friend could answer the incomplete question, but he had already gone inside the gallery. Vail looked at the sculptures again to see if he was imagining things. They were his.

He looked past the display and could see some of the people inside, glasses of wine in their hands, Bursaw now among them, shaking hands with an older woman and accepting a drink from a server.

Vail took a step back and, with attempted objectivity, judged the pieces. Were they good enough? He went inside to find out.

The gallery was deceptively large, consisting of three rooms. Other pieces of his were exhibited on pedestals, more than a dozen. He started over to Bursaw and was about to pull him aside when his friend held up his hands, indicating it wasn’t his doing. He then pointed back at the office door. It was open, and Vail could now see Kate sitting alone. When she spotted Vail, she stood and smiled with a hint of uncertainty.

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