“Method, mostly. In The Payback, the attackers steal potassium cyanide from a silver mine and dump it directly into water tanks at an Air Force base. It’s very straightforward. Almost crude.”
Leo leans forward. “And the real attack?”
“Also potassium cyanide. Also stolen from an open-pit silver mining operation. But instead of tossing the solid salts into the water system, they created a liquid cocktail designed for maximum lethality and delayed detection, and used multiple drones to deliver the poison to multiple entry points to the closed water system. The drone attack was coordinated.”
Sasha processes this. “So Caleb’s version is?—”
“Antiquated,” Hank finishes. “Manual theft, simple contamination, relying on human error and basic chemistry. The real attack was sophisticated. Modern.”
“Why, though?” Sasha asks. “Why would someone Caleb use outdated methods for a book set in the present day?”
Hank sighs, “Who knows. Maybe he had writer’s block. It doesn’t matter, though, because the Lighthouse is satisfied Caleb Rye isn’t responsible for what happened in Turkey.”
“What does that mean?” Leo asks, although he has a feeling he knows.
“It means you can shut it down.”
“Shut it down?” Sasha shakes her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Enjoy the rest of the semester. Go to the museums. Have fun.”
“We’re here for eleven more weeks, we can’t just sit on our thumbs.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Hank admits. “But we have our marching orders. Since you’re there anyway, there’s no reason you can’t keep your eyes open, poke around that school. Somebody connected to that place must be up to something. That’s just statistics. And if you become friendly with Rye, that wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
Leo and Sasha exchange a look.
He says, “I want to make sure I’m understanding. The operation is shut down. But we’re still ‘poking around.’”
“Unofficially.”
“Unofficially,” she repeats. “So, we’re going rogue?”
“Your words, not mine,” Hank tells her. “Look at it this way, it’ll give you something to do besides plan the gala.”
“I still have to plan the gala?” she wails.
Hank cackles and ends the call.
She’s muttering under her breath when Leo escapes upstairs for a quick shower.
When he comes back downstairs, the kids are packing up their backpacks and she’s reading the book again.
“Morning, gang.”
“Morning, dad.”
Sasha slips The Payback into her bag and hands him a travel mug of coffee.
“Thanks.” He kisses her neck.
She smiles and adjusts his tie. Then she picks up her matching travel mug and grabs her bag.
As they file out of the house, he fills in the twins, “Mr. Rye and Ms. Rose are coming for dinner tonight with their new baby. Please be on your best behavior.”
“We’re always on our best behavior,” Fiona says, deeply offended.
“You threw a basketball at Finn’s head yesterday.”
