“Yes, it is already programmed. Turn it on and use these earbuds. You will hear everything as if you’re in here. The monitor is small, but it’s better than listening through doors and watching through the keyhole.”
Sparrow nodded. “Good that’s taken care of. And there are also five more Sparrows in the hotel and more nearby. I’ll talk first and then bring the two of you in on the conversation.”
Stress rippled off Mason in waves.
“Mason,” Sparrow commanded. “Go.”
The two men stood at a crossroad staring at one another.
“He’s on the elevator,” Romero said.
“Go to the computer room,” Sparrow directed. “Garrett, answer the door and then disappear.” He turned his dark stare to me and Mason. Once Romero had gone and Garrett was in the entry behind closed doors, Sparrow came closer. His tone was low but harsh. “No matter how much power I allow you to have, I give the fucking orders.” His eyes were on Mason. “Now isn’t a good time to put that to a test.”
When Mason turned to me, I nodded and lifted the monitor and earbuds.
Sparrow took a seat on a long sofa near the window. Together, Mason and I stepped into the study. I reached for the pocket doors and pulled them shut as the sound of a doorbell rang throughout the suite.
Reid
My brother-in-law paced a few steps in the smaller room before going to the windows and peering out toward the National Mall. “We should have done this alone.”
I wasn’t confident enough in either plan to agree or disagree.
“I want answers,” I said. “No matter if we get them or Sparrow does, I want to know why the Order took my wife and if she’s still a target.”
Mason let out a breath. “And why they’re after my wife.”
“I fucking want answers. Lorna got one. It’s our turn.”
Mason’s gaze met mine. He’d learned the results of the rape kit from me, after I left Lorna. While it was reassuring that she hadn’t been raped, the fact she needed a kit to determine that coated both of our vision in crimson.
I ran a test to compare the DNA from the pubic hair to Andrew Jettison. It took less than five minutes for the results to come back with a near percent match. The man who died six years ago recently bled and somehow shed pubic hair less than a week ago.
Mason extended his hand, silently asking for the earbuds. Sitting on a two-person sofa, we both put the earbuds into place, and I switched on the small handheld monitor. The room beside us came into view on the screen.
Garrett was leading Edison Walters toward Sparrow. For a man nearly seventy years old, Walters was formidable. There was no pretension in the other room. Walters didn’t need to pretend he was a mild-mannered legislative aide. Sparrow didn’t need to pretend that his only concern was real estate. They were coming together with complete openness, a translucency evident in the way Walters walked. He was a man of power.
Sparrow stood, also a man of power.
I hoped the conversation would yield similar unpretentious results.
“Mr. Sparrow.” Walter’s extended his hand.
Sparrow did likewise. “Mr. Walters.” Once they shook, he gestured toward the sofas. “Sit.”
Walters stood taller. “Mr. Sparrow, there are few individuals who have access or the ability to request my presence, my real presence. Tell me what this is about.”
“Who, not what.”
“Who this is about,” Mr. Walters hesitated. “Is it Pierce? Is there a problem?”
“A problem?” Sparrow repeated. “What sort of problem would you suspect?”
Walters placed his hands in the pockets of his slacks and grinned. “You asked for this meeting. I’m sure you had a topic in mind.”
Sparrow walked to the sofa and took a seat. “Thank you for joining me.”
Silence filled the room until Mr. Walters took a seat opposite Sparrow.
With a nod, Sparrow began talking. “It came to my attention...”
As he spoke, I couldn’t help but think about how different this meeting would be if Araneae were still missing. One of Sterling Sparrow’s secrets to success both in real estate and elsewhere was his ability to negotiate. He had an innate sense of the other person’s thoughts and motives. It was similar to his aptitude at playing chess. He wasn’t one move ahead but four moves. In his mind, he had each possibility planned and countered before those strategies even occurred to his opponent.
“...I want to know why the Order has decided to renege upon the agreement we secured regarding Mr. Pierce.”
Walters sat taller. “The Order doesn’t renege. Mr. Pierce is no longer a part of any governmental organization, not a legal organization.”
“Dr. Carlson, or should I say, Mrs. Pierce?”
Walters sat for a moment, staring at Sparrow. “Mrs. Pierce. Yes, I remember learning that he married. What does...?” His question stopped. “Are you insinuating that the Order is in the process of anything regarding Sergeant First Class Pierce’s wife?”
“Yes, I have reason to believe that is the case.”
“She was...” Walters faltered a minute. “...I recall, a scientist. She was at the center of the debacle that brought us together the first time.” His expression became quizzical. “Part of our agreement was that she would discontinue her research on the compound and formula that she’d been studying in Indiana.”
“That research was lost when she had to run for her life.”
Walters shrugged. “A fair trade, I suppose.”
“You tell me, Mr. Walters, is her life safe?”
“As long as she abides by our rules.”
“Then why was there an attempted kidnapping with her as the target?”
Walters shook his head. “I can tell you with complete confidence that I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m sure you pay attention to the world news, Mr. Sparrow. You don’t have your head buried only in Chicago.”
Sparrow sat taller. “I stay informed.”
“Six hostages were rescued a week ago from a rogue ISIS camp. Three weeks before that, a Russian informant was saved from an attempt on his life.” Mr. Walters went on. “A month ago, there was a failed assassination attempt on a crowned prince.”
“You failed?”
“No, Mr. Sparrow. The prince will be needed in future negotiations on some yet-to-be-discussed diplomacy issues. The assassin failed. The Order doesn’t fail—we succeed. If Mrs. Pierce was meant to be kidnapped, she would have been.”
“My wife and the wife of a trusted member of my team were taken.”
“My condolences.”
“They have been returned.”
Mr. Walters stood. “While I am flattered that you assume anyone willing to come against you could only be the Order, we did not and have not prioritized the Sparrow organization. I may not agree with the business you do—”
“Nor I yours,” Sparrow interrupted as he stood, “or the way in which you recruit.”
“Then we can agree to disagree. As I was saying, despite my personal dislike for organizations that work outside the law, you serve a purpose in your city and beyond. The Order has no urgent or imminent concerns with your business dealings; however, it is wise to remember that you made yourself a blip on our radar.”