Page 141 of Only the Wicked

With that, he’s out the door.

“You may want to sit,” Dristol says.

Crawford’s sudden departure, Dristol’s convenient arrival, it’s too orchestrated to be a coincidence. They’re keeping Crawford’s hands clean while Dristol does the dirty work.

I do as he asks and sit. “What can I do for you Devon?”

He claims the seat Crawford vacated. Doesn’t say a word.

Down the hall, I hear a heavy door close. Possibly a fire escape door.

A shadow crosses the threshold.

“Well hello Jason Reid,” I say for the van’s benefit. “If it isn’t the fake FBI agent, alias Ian Gregory.”

Reid scowls but Dristol grins.

“I told him you had a powerful resource at your fingertips,” Dristol says.

I suppose it’s good they’ve assumed I’ve used ARGUS to verify Reid’s credentials. Better that than they suspect I’m working with anyone.

“Here’s the deal,” Dristol says. “I need you to acquire the Forbes database.”

“Are you speaking for Crawford right now?”

“If you care at all for your reputation, you’re going to do what they ask. It’s in the best interest of the United States of America.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. To be clear, I want to be your friend, not your enemy. I’d prefer for ARGUS to remain a private entity, but I hear the conversations in the halls. A growing number want to claim it’s a national security risk. Take you over. If you work with us, those voices won’t travel far.”

Any government taking over ARGUS is an Orwellian nightmare. It’s not going to happen.

“Who put you up to this?”

My gaze flicks to Reid, who has closed the office door and stands sentry, arms folded in front of his waist, watching the scene.

“Your partner has expressed consternation at your insufficient willingness to do what’s best for the growth of your company.”

Miles. The bastard really is working against me. Is this part of building a case to justify forcing me out? Part of his trap or what he ultimately wants and he fears I’ll refuse?

I scan the two men closely, wondering if they’re recording the meeting in a bid to aid Miles.

The two men share similar menacing countenances.

“Are you here to threaten me?”

“No,” Dristol’s quick to say.

“Excellent,” I say, standing up.

“So you’d rather news hit the wire?” He asks the question slowly, his attention on his trimmed nails.

He’s definitely in bed with the Russians. It’s the same threat they held over me. These guys are all working together.

But is he working with his boss or independently? We’ll need to access the communications to Crawford’s phone. It’s conceivable they were listening in and stepped in when they realized Crawford was about to work with me to identify the leak. Perhaps they didn’t attempt to reach him thirty minutes earlier.

At this moment, that specific truth doesn’t matter. They’re looking at me like they’re holding all the cards, but preparation wins.