“I think I can manage that.” Hennigan paused before asking, “What will you be up to?”
“I’m going to find Richardson, contact the senior leadership, call Ms. Brighton and see if I can be a general nuisance around here.”
“How will you contact me?”
“There are five satphones in the safe house. I’ll call you on the one marked ‘A’.”
“How did you set this up without stepping out of The Complex?”
“I work in mysterious ways.” Her voice held a hint of mirth.
That was the only answer Hennigan was going to get. Before she could ask another question, there was the sound of a scuffle on the other end of the line.
“Sorry about that. I’m not in the most secure location. These damn satphones are persnickety little devices. Anyway, there are at least two fewer CLA roaches running around these halls. I swear, every time I take one down, three seem to replace it.”
“When you get a chance, can you send me everything about the CLA? It’s clear that we underestimated them.”
“That we did. Someone is pulling their strings. This is not the same ragtag group we previously profiled internally. So far, the ones I’ve interrogated don’t seem to have much information.” There was a burst of gunfire. “Roaches, I tell you.” With that, the line disconnected.
* * * *
Agent Murphy
By six p.m., Murphy was ready to go home. Unfortunately, she had another meeting with the President’s Chief of Staff, Sepi Amin, who, this time, wanted an up-to-date briefing.
She rolled her neck, trying to get the kinks out, when there was a soft knock on her door. “Enter.” She finished typing the email before turning to find her partner sitting in one of the guest chairs.
“How are things?” Ben asked.
“As you can imagine.” Murphy took in a deep breath. “God, I need more coffee. Walk with me?” She glanced at her watch. “I have thirty minutes before my next meeting with the White House.”
“Oooh, look at you, taking meetings with the White House,” he said, trying to add some levity to the room, but Sarah could only manage a weak smile. Ben looked at his partner. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
“Then the coffee’s on me.”
“Perfect!”
They walked down the hall to a small breakroom where a pot of coffee was always brewing. Sarah hadn’t figured out who kept the pot full, but she was grateful that someone did.
Ben grabbed a mug that read, ‘I’m an FBI agent, what’s your superpower?’ He filled it and handed it to Murphy. He then grabbed a mug with an image of Jesus in a cowboy hat petting a dinosaur that read, ‘Jesus was an American.’
“Who buys these things?” Sarah wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, but they at least make me laugh,” Ben replied.
“There was a ‘Female Body Inspector’ mug that may have accidentally met its end on my first day here,” Sarah said with a sly grin. “Funny, I don’t mind. Sexist? Not on my watch.”
They stood in the breakroom, sipping their coffee.
“How’s Kira?”
“Strong. She didn’t seem shaken by last night at all. She’s tough as nails. What about you? Any movement on the dating front?”
“Nah. I’ll stick to dogs. They’re more loyal.” He quickly added, “No offense.”
“None taken.” Sarah took a sip of her coffee. She’d had a lot of FBI office coffee in her career. The brew at the Emerald City was one of the best. She’d asked a few people where it came from, but no one seemed to know. It was like there was some coffee fairy who showed up every night and just put fresh grounds around the building.
