The Chaos Kind (John Rain #11)(6)

“I didn’t bring it to you just for the Bureau’s resources,” Livia said. “I brought it to you because I knew you wouldn’t wilt.”

Diaz started to say something and then stopped, perhaps realizing that Livia had expressed more than just a compliment. Livia understood. It was unnerving when someone saw past the fa?ade everyone else bought into.

“Anyway,” Livia said. “When are you going to indict?”

“Statutorily, I’ve got thirty days. But I’m shooting for seven.”

“Another fait accompli for your boss?”

Diaz nodded. “And Meekler, too.”

“They’re not going to forgive you.”

“I don’t want them to forgive me. I want them to fear me.”

Livia had no doubt they would, and suspected they already did. What worried her was how far the powers that be might go. They’d killed an FBI agent, and tried to kill Livia herself, to cover up a Secret Service child abuse ring and the high-ranking politicians it implicated. What would stop them from trying to eliminate an assistant US Attorney?

She’d tried to get Diaz to be more careful. But real personal security was a hard lesson for people to internalize if they hadn’t lived through the actual need for it. And Diaz, a public school kid from Washington Heights in New York, whose parents had died when she was a toddler and who had done more to raise her little brother than the aunt and step-uncle who had taken them in, was more street smart than most. Still, dealing with predators was one thing. Professionals were a whole different level.

They stood and headed toward the door. “What about Schrader?” Livia said. “Are you sure—”

“We’ve been over this. Extra guards. Multiple cameras. Everyone’s afraid of another Epstein being suicided in prison. So for anyone thinking to try . . . it’s not an option.”

That was good to hear. On the other hand, anyone who couldn’t silence Schrader directly might decide that removing the only person serious about prosecuting him would be a sensible Plan B.

“I have an extra helmet,” Livia said. “You want a ride?”

Diaz shook her head. “It’s barely a mile.”

“It’s cold.”

Diaz laughed. “You know what it’s like in New York this time of year? It’s never cold in Seattle. Just wet.”

Livia took a good look through the window at the front of the academy before opening the door. Not so long before, this is where the conspirators had ambushed her. That was her first encounter with the really deep water, the currents Carl and Rain swam in. She’d fought her way out. But the best way to beat an ambush was to see it coming. Or to avoid it entirely.

They stepped outside and Livia locked the door. Her bike, a Ducati Streetfighter, was parked behind the building, and if she’d been alone she would have gone out the back. But she wanted to try one more time.

“Alondra,” she said. “Are you sure—”

“You said you wanted me because I don’t wilt.”

Livia glanced around. “You can stand up straight and still look behind you.”

“Fuck that. They need to be looking out for me.”





chapter

five





HOBBS


Devereaux shook his head, plainly stunned. “Schrader had videos of the president? When you were the South Carolina US Attorney?”

“Correct.”

“But he . . . That was the other party. Why would you—”

“This isn’t about parties, Pierce. And even if it were, I assure you, the issue is thoroughly bipartisan.”

Devereaux looked at him. Hobbs knew what he was thinking: At last. The matter at hand.

“Now you’re starting to get it,” Hobbs said. “You see, back then, Schrader had video of only one president cavorting with a teenager.” He paused for dramatic effect, then continued. “Now he has video of a second.”

Devereaux glanced upward as though he might see the Cabinet Room, or even the Oval Office, from where they were sitting. “You mean—”

“That’s right. Before he got into politics, when he was just an ordinary billionaire business baron. By the time these guys rise to national prominence, they seem to realize their association with Schrader isn’t good for their brands. But by then it’s too late.”

“Schrader’s blackmailing the president?”

“No, that’s the thing. The basis for the non-prosecution agreement, in fact. Schrader isn’t interested in leverage. There’s nothing he wants and can’t buy. Except one thing.”

“To stay out of jail.”

“Bingo.”

“That’s the deal you made with him?”

Hobbs nodded. “Schrader’s got a high-powered lawyer, Sharon Hamilton, and she made it clear that Schrader had created the material purely as a get-out-of-jail-free card, to be played only under the narrowest of circumstances. If those circumstances were to disappear, the material would never surface.”

“You believed that?”

“What choice did I have, really? But yes, I believed it. Schrader had been compiling the material for years. He could have used it sooner if he’d wanted to, in a variety of ways, but he never did. And the material inculpates Schrader as much as it does the subjects captured. Those videos aren’t a gun. They’re a doomsday weapon.”