Bombshell
Page 73
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“I don’t believe this, no, it can’t be true. Tell me, Anna, tell me.”
“Listen to me, Delsey, I simply couldn’t tell you earlier. That’s what undercover means. You can’t tell a soul what you’re really doing. It’s my job, my assignment. Telling anyone, even you, would only have put you and all of us at risk.”
Delsey gave her a full-blown sneer. “Turns out I was at risk anyway, doesn’t it?”
Anna hated Delsey’s anger, but there was nothing she could do about it. She slowly nodded. “That’s true enough.”
“Like that dead agent or partner of yours I found in my apartment, the night I was almost killed? Did that have anything to do with you, Anna?”
“I would never have put you at risk, Delsey, not knowingly. I didn’t know about it until after it happened. That’s why I’m here to see you safely out of Maestro now.”
Delsey wheeled on Griffin. “And you, brother, how long have you known? And Ruth, Dix, everyone else that Anna simply couldn’t tell, since she was here undercover?”
Griffin took her hands, since he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t belt him, or Anna. “Stop being so pissed off. Like Anna said, she’s only been doing her job.”
“Yeah, and part of it was to play me.”
Anna said, “Yes, it started out that way, but Delsey, I’m not lying to you, I came to like you a whole lot. You’re my BFF. Please. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Griffin said, “Listen, Dels, she’s so closemouthed I only got it out of her yesterday afternoon. She didn’t want to tell me, but I forced her hand. I’d figured it out, you see.”
“Here you figured it out in two days and I didn’t because I’m a blind idiot, and here I’ve known her for months and months.”
“I’ve seen you be an idiot, Delsey, but not about this. As for Griffin figuring it out, so much has happened since he got here. We’ve been in a pressure cooker, and it’s ready to pop.
“Please understand, Delsey, I was sent here because I needed to get something concrete on Salazar, get some idea of the operation, where they’re stashing the drug shipments locally. He’s been very careful. But things are moving really fast now; plus, we have the MS-13 gang members to deal with.”
To Griffin’s relief, he saw Delsey had calmed down. She was chewing this over. She said slowly, “Two people are dead. Won’t Salazar realize it’s all a sham, that you’re onto him, and run? Take the drugs with him?”
She’d nailed it. Anna said, “He might run. We’re waiting for him to pull the trigger now and try to move the drugs to D.C., to Baltimore, Richmond, wherever he has clients. We think he’s got a fortune in drugs stashed out here somewhere, ready to go to his buyers.”
“Salazar, a drug runner. It blows my mind. I mean, here he is a world-famous classical guitarist. And a drug kingpin?”
“It would seem so,” Anna said.
Griffin shaded his eyes at the blur of cloud-covered sun climbing above the mountain line in the distance. The small search-and-rescue plane he’d heard was clearing the foothills to the east and lining up with the runway. “That should be Agent Davis Sullivan,” he said, pointing. “He’s flying you back to Washington, Delsey, in Marauder Two.”
“Griffin, what in heaven’s name will I do in Washington?”
You’ll stay alive.
“Hey, where will I stay? What happened to Marauder One?”
“You’re staying with my boss, Dillon Savich. As for practicing your music, I know Agent Sherlock has a beautiful Steinway, and she’ll love to listen to you.
“I’ve heard Sherlock play, by the way. I was told she was on her way to Juilliard when she changed her mind. Maybe you can compose an FBI movie theme song together.”
“I don’t want to fly on Marauder Two until I find out what happened to Marauder One.”
“Maybe they’ve got a fleet of Marauders. You can ask Agent Sullivan. See, that was a good landing, wings level, no bounce or skid at all.”
The plane slowed after it touched down and taxied slowly toward them. A tall, whip-lean man wearing a Redskins cap climbed out. He looked up at the snow-laden clouds and frowned, zipped up his brown leather jacket, and walked toward them—no, he didn’t walk, he moseyed, Delsey thought, like a loose-limbed cowboy.
Griffin stepped forward. “Agent Sullivan?”
Off came the ball cap to show mussed dark hair. “Yep. It looks like snow’s coming in pretty fast, so we’d better take off now. You Agent Hammersmith?”
“Listen to me, Delsey, I simply couldn’t tell you earlier. That’s what undercover means. You can’t tell a soul what you’re really doing. It’s my job, my assignment. Telling anyone, even you, would only have put you and all of us at risk.”
Delsey gave her a full-blown sneer. “Turns out I was at risk anyway, doesn’t it?”
Anna hated Delsey’s anger, but there was nothing she could do about it. She slowly nodded. “That’s true enough.”
“Like that dead agent or partner of yours I found in my apartment, the night I was almost killed? Did that have anything to do with you, Anna?”
“I would never have put you at risk, Delsey, not knowingly. I didn’t know about it until after it happened. That’s why I’m here to see you safely out of Maestro now.”
Delsey wheeled on Griffin. “And you, brother, how long have you known? And Ruth, Dix, everyone else that Anna simply couldn’t tell, since she was here undercover?”
Griffin took her hands, since he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t belt him, or Anna. “Stop being so pissed off. Like Anna said, she’s only been doing her job.”
“Yeah, and part of it was to play me.”
Anna said, “Yes, it started out that way, but Delsey, I’m not lying to you, I came to like you a whole lot. You’re my BFF. Please. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Griffin said, “Listen, Dels, she’s so closemouthed I only got it out of her yesterday afternoon. She didn’t want to tell me, but I forced her hand. I’d figured it out, you see.”
“Here you figured it out in two days and I didn’t because I’m a blind idiot, and here I’ve known her for months and months.”
“I’ve seen you be an idiot, Delsey, but not about this. As for Griffin figuring it out, so much has happened since he got here. We’ve been in a pressure cooker, and it’s ready to pop.
“Please understand, Delsey, I was sent here because I needed to get something concrete on Salazar, get some idea of the operation, where they’re stashing the drug shipments locally. He’s been very careful. But things are moving really fast now; plus, we have the MS-13 gang members to deal with.”
To Griffin’s relief, he saw Delsey had calmed down. She was chewing this over. She said slowly, “Two people are dead. Won’t Salazar realize it’s all a sham, that you’re onto him, and run? Take the drugs with him?”
She’d nailed it. Anna said, “He might run. We’re waiting for him to pull the trigger now and try to move the drugs to D.C., to Baltimore, Richmond, wherever he has clients. We think he’s got a fortune in drugs stashed out here somewhere, ready to go to his buyers.”
“Salazar, a drug runner. It blows my mind. I mean, here he is a world-famous classical guitarist. And a drug kingpin?”
“It would seem so,” Anna said.
Griffin shaded his eyes at the blur of cloud-covered sun climbing above the mountain line in the distance. The small search-and-rescue plane he’d heard was clearing the foothills to the east and lining up with the runway. “That should be Agent Davis Sullivan,” he said, pointing. “He’s flying you back to Washington, Delsey, in Marauder Two.”
“Griffin, what in heaven’s name will I do in Washington?”
You’ll stay alive.
“Hey, where will I stay? What happened to Marauder One?”
“You’re staying with my boss, Dillon Savich. As for practicing your music, I know Agent Sherlock has a beautiful Steinway, and she’ll love to listen to you.
“I’ve heard Sherlock play, by the way. I was told she was on her way to Juilliard when she changed her mind. Maybe you can compose an FBI movie theme song together.”
“I don’t want to fly on Marauder Two until I find out what happened to Marauder One.”
“Maybe they’ve got a fleet of Marauders. You can ask Agent Sullivan. See, that was a good landing, wings level, no bounce or skid at all.”
The plane slowed after it touched down and taxied slowly toward them. A tall, whip-lean man wearing a Redskins cap climbed out. He looked up at the snow-laden clouds and frowned, zipped up his brown leather jacket, and walked toward them—no, he didn’t walk, he moseyed, Delsey thought, like a loose-limbed cowboy.
Griffin stepped forward. “Agent Sullivan?”
Off came the ball cap to show mussed dark hair. “Yep. It looks like snow’s coming in pretty fast, so we’d better take off now. You Agent Hammersmith?”
