The Rescue(36)

“Son of a bitch,” hissed Harcourt. “Decker has been two steps ahead of you the entire time.”

“We have a solid lead.”

“The woman? You think she’s going to head back to her apartment, order some takeout, and sit around waiting for you to show up? She’s gone. He’s gone. You need to get into Decker’s mind and figure out where they’re going next.”

“Oh God,” whispered Frist, raising his hands. “They’ll be headed here.”

What didn’t this idiot get about the complete lack of nexus between him and Decker? Harcourt shook his head vigorously and focused on the call.

“Gunther?”

“I heard you, sir,” said Gunther. “But if the woman turns out to be a dead end, I’m fresh out of leads unless Decker pops up on the grid.”

“You can’t expect him to make that kind of mistake, especially if he has highly competent help.”

“Then I need to know everything.”

“What do you mean?” said Harcourt. “You have the file.”

“No. The real file. All of it,” said Gunther. “I know there’s more. I gave Jay a sanitized file, knowing damn well I had received one, too. I know Aegis had another group working the job. A group separate from mine. The intel you fed me about Decker’s rescue operation could have only come from an informant deep inside Decker’s group. Someone more than likely present at the very moment of the Hemet raid. If you want me to think like Decker, I need a complete picture of Aegis’s involvement in this. That’s the only chance we have to find him.”

“I’ll send it to you,” said Harcourt, pausing for a moment. “It goes without saying that Jay is not cleared for this information.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” said Gunther. “Jay is dead, along with the guy at Ares Aviation. They’re in the trunk of the car I’m driving.”

“Jesus,” whispered Frist.

“I trust your judgment on that,” said Harcourt. “Do you need me to make a call regarding the bodies?”

“Negative. I’m ten minutes away from a car swap,” said Gunther. “I’ll pore through the file and come up with a game plan to get ahead of Decker. Please don’t leave anything out.”

“I won’t,” said Harcourt. “Keep me posted.”

“Copy that, sir,” said Gunther, and the call ended.

He turned to Frist, who looked like he was in the middle of a myocardial infarction.

“Nothing to worry about,” said Harcourt, glad he wasn’t connected to a polygraph machine.

“Are you kidding me?” said Frist. “What’s in the rest of this file?”

“Nothing connected to you. We had a mole inside Decker’s team, who provided us with real-time intelligence regarding Meghan Steele’s rescue operation.”

“Please tell me he or she is not still alive.”

“He was paid a lot of money up front for his cooperation,” said Harcourt. “And apparently made good use of that money to vanish immediately after the failed rescue attempt.”

“So there’s another liability out there. Wonderful.”

“He’s stayed off the grid for close to two years,” said Harcourt. “We have no idea where he went. Probably living in some banana republic right now, surrounded by well-paid locals. He hasn’t resurfaced for a reason.”

“Anything else I need to know?” said Frist, standing up and studying the stocked liquor cart in the far corner of his office.

“That’s it. If Decker stays in LA, they’ll find him. He won’t get lucky twice.”

“Three times.”

“Point taken,” said Harcourt. “If he ranges out of LA, we should be able to anticipate his next move.”

“But your mole went missing,” said Frist. “How the hell can you beat him to a place you can’t find?”

“I have a few ideas.”

“I’d like to hear them,” said Frist.

“Then maybe I should take you up on the lunch offer,” said Harcourt, resigning himself to the misery of an extended visit.

“I’ll let Tanya know,” said Frist, looking oddly upbeat given what had just transpired. “Crab cakes?”

“Same recipe?”

“Same recipe for twenty years,” said Frist. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it—right?”

“Right.” Incredible how this fool’s outlook could turn on a crab cake.

Emboldened by Frist’s sudden change of demeanor—a hallmark inferiority complex symptom—Harcourt decided the moment was ripe to float a bold idea.

“Gerry. I wonder if you could try to move up the vote? Just to give us some breathing room. I don’t know if that’s possible, but I’d feel better if we got it out of the way sooner than later. Steele’s support is critical.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Frist. “I’ll start walking the idea around this afternoon. The earliest we could pull this off is Monday.”

“Better than Thursday. Three days could make all the difference. Keep in mind, I’m fully confident that we’ll have the situation under control long before Monday.”