Chapter 10

‘A guinea pig?' Wagstaff said.

‘Have you heard of DARPA, Detective?' Koenig said. ‘The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency?'

‘Sure. I've seen The X-Files .'

‘Turns out, DARPA had been playing about with the amygdala for years. They claim it's to improve PTSD recovery rates, but I suspect their primary goal is getting our troops to react differently to effective enemy fire. Suppress that initial fear. I found out later that my training regime was a Department of Defense test programme. They wanted to find out what someone who doesn't feel fear is capable of.'

Wagstaff snorted. ‘You took out four cops with a fucking credit card. I'd say they got what they wanted.'

‘But they didn't,' Koenig said. ‘Because of the Russian bounty, I disappeared before an in-depth assessment could be done. I didn't know it at the time, but they'd assigned a handler to me. Woman called Jen Draper, and if you think I have a complicated past, it's nothing compared to hers. She pretended to be a new member of the SOG. Really, she was there to evaluate me. Not just my skills. My decision-making was also important to the DoD. Someone who doesn't feel fear is useless if they're also reckless. They want soldiers, not berserkers.'

‘You've resurfaced now, though,' Wagstaff said.

‘I resurfaced last year too,' Koenig said. ‘Friend of mine tracked me down. Wanted help with something. I ended up killing a bunch of bad guys. And for my troubles I was given a choice: do what they asked or get convicted of murder. They had plenty of bodies to choose from.'

‘What did they want?'

‘Nothing. Jen Draper was still my handler, and all I had to do was check in once a month via an email account they set up. We did it through the draft folder. Nothing was ever sent. That's why I know she's on her way. I sent my last email. Didn't save it to the draft folder. Cunningham didn't think there was anything in the message she needed to worry about, but she'd missed the point. Sending it was the message. It'll have set off all sorts of alarms. Jen will have called it in immediately, and they'll have sent her up here to get me. She'll have been in DC when all this happened. I figure with traffic to get out of DC and into New York, she'll have ditched her car and taken a helicopter instead. Half an hour to get to a DoD airfield, ten minutes to clear a flight plan and a ninety-minute flight. Another thirty minutes to get from the airfield to the precinct.'

‘She's late then.'

‘She is.'

‘But you still think she's coming.'

‘Oh, I know she's coming,' Koenig said. ‘She won't miss the chance to gloat.' He paused. ‘We have a hate–hate relationship.'

‘You keep mentioning "they". "They" offered you a choice. "They" will have sent her up here to get you. Who are "they"?'

‘That's the five-million-dollar question, isn't it, Detective Wagstaff? I have absolutely no idea who "they" are.'

The interview room door burst open. A tall blonde woman marched in. She glowered at Koenig.

He sighed. ‘But I suspect she does,' he said.