“Yeah. Remember your senior project in high school? I seem to recall you did the entire year-long assignment in forty-eight hours before it was due.”
Omar’s face heated. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“You got an A. And you’ve been pulling off last-minute miracles ever since.” Ryan’s expression grew serious. “We don’t have anything concrete yet. But we have pieces. Hanna’s statement. The financial entanglements between the Tunisians and Hampton’s family.”
Jake nodded. “With any luck, that plus whatever we get out of Cal tomorrow will be enough to make the President listen. After that, it’s up to him.”
“And if he doesn’t believe us?” Trent asked.
“Then we’re probably going to prison for conspiracy against the Vice President,” Ryan said matter-of-factly.
“Then we’d better make sure he believes us. Legally, what do we need to make the strongest possible case?”
“Everything we can get from Cal. Confirmation that CSIS has evidence of the Calgary attack. And something—anything—that directly ties VP Hampton to Mahmoud.”
“The latter is going to be hard,” Omar said. “Hampton’s too smart to leave a paper trail. That’s why he’s using his train wreck of a son as his middleman.”
“Talk about a useful idiot,” Trent muttered.
Omar sat up straight. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“Trent’s right. I mean, Brad truly is an idiot. Sure, the VP can use him as a straw man to sign contracts and handle the money laundering and bribes. But there’s no way he’d trust that guy with details of a coup. There has to be another intermediary.”
Trent picked up the thread.“Someone has to coordinate between Hampton and the Mahmoud. Someone who could move between DC and Tunisia without raising red flags.”
“On it,” Ryan said. “While you prep for the call with McCloud and your five minutes with POTUS, I’ll cross-reference State Department travel records with known associates of both Hampton and Mahmoud.”
Nobody asked their strait-laced company counsel how he was planning to access State Department records. Nobody wanted to know.
Ryan merged onto the highway, heading north. “You realize this means Poppy Jones checks out, right? Once I dropped her name with CSIS, they were ready to play ball. That’s as close to a confirmation as we’re going to get that she is a deep cover operative specializing in human intelligence gathering.”
“Poppy Jones,” Trent muttered. “I can’t believe it. I’m going to have to read one of Liv’s biographies of Josephine Baker. This is wild.”
“So we can trust her,” Omar said.
“To a point,” Ryan cautioned. “She’s loyal to Canada’s interests, not ours. If those interests diverge, she’ll choose her country every time.”
“That’s fair. So will we,” Jake said. “What about VP Hampton? Any movement there?”
Ryan’s expression darkened. “I reached out to someone I can trust at DOJ. They’re not interested.”
“He’s planning a coup,” Omar sputtered.
“He’s the Vice President of the United States. Without something solid, it would be career suicide.”
“We have Hanna’s testimony,” Trent said.
“Which his lawyers will shred. One woman’s word against the Vice President? They’ll say she’s lying to save herself. That she’s bitter about her relationship with Idris. That she’s been compromised by foreign intelligence.”
“What about the financial records?” Omar asked. “The money trail between Hampton and the Tunisians?”
“Buried under layers of shell corporations and offshore accounts. It’ll take months to untangle. Maybe years.”
“We don’t have years,” Jake said flatly.
“I know. Which is why we’re going to Annapolis. To get you five minutes.”
