“Remember, if she’s aware of the FBI’s presence, this will be quick.If she’s unaware, we play to her ego.”
I press the doorbell, the sound echoing through the house like a funeral chime.Elena turns slowly, her silver hair perfectly styled despite her predicament, her posture still radiating the confidence of someone accustomed to being the smartest person in any room.
She ends her call and walks to the door, opening it without any hesitation.
“Officer Anderson.Mr.d’Avricourt.”Her voice carries that familiar slight accent, refined by decades of careful cultivation.“I expected a phone call, not an in-person visit.But I must say, as I’ve learned more about you, I’m not surprised you found me.”
I’m no longer a CIA officer, but I don’t gain anything by correcting her.Perhaps she’s a believer in ‘once CIA, always CIA’.“May we come in?”
Elena steps aside with exaggerated courtesy.“By all means.Though I should warn you, we don’t have long before this conversation becomes academic.”
The interior of the house is as stark as its exterior—expensive furniture arranged with clinical precision, no personal touches beyond a laptop open on the glass coffee table and stacks of file folders scattered across every surface.Evidence of a woman trying to save herself through paperwork and connections.
“Busy evening?”I gesture toward the laptop.
“Productive evening.”Elena moves to pour herself a glass of wine from an open bottle of what looks like a very expensive Burgundy.She doesn’t offer us any.“I’ve spent the last several hours providing federal prosecutors with a comprehensive account of how Adrien d’Avricourt conspired with Jonathan Pierce to manipulate Senate defense appropriations.”
The words hit exactly as intended.I feel Adrien stiffen beside me, but I keep my expression neutral.This is the gambit Eddie warned us about.
“That’s an interesting story,” I say.“What evidence supports it?”
Elena’s smile is razor-sharp.“Please don’t act like you’ve come here in ignorance.You’re well aware of the evidence.”She’s speaking to us like she believes we’re being recorded—and a team is listening in, so she’s correct.“Phone records showing multiple calls between d’Avricourt and Pierce in the weeks before key votes.Financial records indicating suspicious transfers between d’Avricourt Luxe subsidiaries and Pierce’s consulting firm.Testimony from a concerned federal employee—me—who discovered the conspiracy and felt compelled to report it.”
“Fabricated evidence,” I say, but I have to admit, I admire her twist.
“Prove it.”Elena takes a sip of wine, savoring both the vintage and our predicament.“Even if you could—which you can’t, because there’s evidence—the investigation alone will destroy Adrien’s business and possibly his family’s too.His reputation with the banks, with the public.All of it gone while prosecutors sort through the complexities.”
“And you claim innocence?”Adrien speaks for the first time since entering, a carefully controlled stillness to his frame.
“I am the whistleblower who exposed governmental corruption at great personal cost.A patriot who sacrificed her career to protect democracy.”The grin on her face strikes me as demented.Elena moves to the window, gazing out at the dark ocean.“Any charges against me—which I’d like to remind you, right now there are none—will disappear.If my position in the administration is revoked, I’ll relocate.Rebuild.If I lose my spot within the government, the sacrifice will be worth it to know that I stopped an extortionist from forcing votes from senators.”
The audacity is breathtaking—and exactly what I expected from someone with Elena’s psychological profile.Unfortunately, I don’t see an in to negotiate or to draw out anything truthful.
If glares could kill, Adrien’s deadly stare would end her.I’m certain if he wasn’t hyperaware of the feds listening in he’d strangle the woman.His jaw clenches; the breath he takes is controlled, expensive whiskey turned to ice.
“There’s just one problem with your plan,” I say.
“Oh?”Her cheeks are rosy, although it’s not clear if that’s from joyful exuberance at winning or if she’s been drinking all evening.
“You’re too late.”
Elena turns from the window, and for the first time, I see uncertainty flicker.“Meaning?”
“The men you hired for perimeter security?They’re currently having a very reasonable conversation with federal agents about the benefits of cooperation over obstruction of justice.Turns out they’re not particularly loyal to someone who can’t guarantee their paychecks.Or maybe it’s just that there are limits to loyalty and prison is their line.”
The rosy color fades.
“This house is surrounded, Elena.FBI tactical teams, local law enforcement, and Coast Guard offshore.There’s no exit strategy.No one’s going to buy what you fabricated.Pierce talked.That much you know.The bomb?It didn’t take the FBI long at all to trace the delivery to you.”
“You’re bluffing.”
I am lying about the bomb.We’re still working on tracing the source, but I know she’s responsible.
“Really?Then why didn’t your security stop us?Meet us in your driveway?”
I pull out my phone, showing her the text I received five minutes ago.
Perimeter secure.All subjects in custody.Green light.
