Chapter 132

Nine months later.

Draper arrived first. She was on time. Wouldn't have mattered if she hadn't been. Smerconish always made her wait. She'd once watched him circle the block so he could arrive second. Underlings waited on their boss. It was never the other way round. She'd forgotten how much stock the intelligence community placed in who had the more powerful position. It was a game she hadn't missed.

Exactly five minutes later, Smerconish slid into the booth. Took the opposite side to her. Picked up the menu, even though they both knew he wouldn't be there long enough to order anything. Another power play.

Yawn.

‘How's the patient?' he said.

Draper stifled a sigh. She picked up her mug of coffee and took a drink. Smerconish rarely asked a question he didn't already know the answer to. She played the game anyway. ‘Discharged himself a week ago,' she said.

‘Prognosis?'

‘The infection's cleared up.'

‘The leg?'

‘He had his last operation a month ago,' she said.

‘And?'

‘He'll limp for a while, but there were no life-changing injuries.'

When the F-35 pilot had aborted his missile strike, the recovery teams rushed in. Koenig and Carlyle were airlifted to Boulder City Hospital, where they were both stabilised. Tas's bullet had entered Carlyle's neck but hadn't punctured a major blood vessel. She'd lost blood and consciousness, but the life jacket she was wearing was designed to keep the head above water. Koenig was transferred to Walter Reed, where a specialist in leg trauma was flown in from Germany.

‘And the radiation?' Smerconish asked.

‘Our guys will keep him under observation, but they don't think he was on the boat long enough. Guess we'll find out.'

‘You took him out of Walter Reed,' Smerconish said.

‘I did.'

‘Why?'

‘I wanted the best physiotherapy for him. Walter Reed's good, but Koenig needed one-on-one attention. Plus, you know what he's like. He was making the others uneasy. The way a jungle goes silent when a puma walks through it.'

‘Where did you put him?'

Draper told him.

‘You like him, don't you?' Smerconish said. ‘That place isn't cheap.'

‘He's a self-centred, arrogant asshole.'

‘A description that would have fitted you, fifteen years ago.'

She shrugged. It was probably true.

‘Do you have what I asked for?' he said.

She pulled a Manila file from her briefcase. It was thin. She placed her hand on it. ‘The guy who funded it?'

‘The money man Ms Wexmore approached—'

‘ Miss Wexmore. She didn't run a bordello.'

‘As you wish,' he said. ‘He was just another sad billionaire. Used to getting his own way. Didn't like the word "no". Miss Wexmore convinced him she could fix some mining permits for him. He'll be convicted of something unrelated.'

‘Koenig won't like it.'

Smerconish shrugged. Unconcerned. ‘You're his handler. Handle him.'

‘And Bess Carlyle? Will she have to disappear again?'

‘That's the thing with Pandora's box,' Smerconish said. ‘You can only open it once. Lieutenant Commander Carlyle has been welcomed back to the fold. The protocol is out in the open. There is no reason for her to hide any more.'

Draper lifted her hand from the file. Smerconish made no move to take it.

‘Did you hear about Admiral Du Pont's son?' he said.

Draper picked up the menu. Studied it. Said nothing.

‘He was murdered last night,' Smerconish continued. ‘Someone shot him five times in the head.'

‘What a shame.'

‘Not really. The evidence found on his phone suggested he was a serial sex offender.'

Draper kept studying the menu.

‘Yes, it looks like he filmed some of his rapes, including of Miss Wexmore's daughter, Lieutenant Emily Braddock.'

‘Seems careless of him to leave evidence like that behind.'

‘Doesn't it? Although to be fair, he'd kept everything in a highly encrypted app. But whoever killed him knew how to break into it anyway. Almost like they'd had special training in that kind of thing. Access to proprietary software.'

Draper looked up. ‘Any suspects?'

‘No DNA, no fingerprints. One witness might have seen a blonde woman getting into Du Pont's car, but that's the only lead NCIS have.'

‘I guess Admiral Du Pont won't need to cover up any more rapes then,' Draper said carefully.

‘Never a truer word said,' Smerconish said. ‘Because Admiral Du Pont was also murdered last night. Someone disabled the marine guard outside his quarters, broke into his home, and stuck a knife in his heart. Thin blade. Like the kind the commandos used on D-Day.'

‘Lots of those about,' Draper said. ‘Do base security have anything?'

‘A blurry shot of a guy with a limp.'

Draper paused before saying, ‘They have nothing then.'

Smerconish paused before saying, ‘Admiral Du Pont was a good officer, Miss Draper.'

Draper put down her mug. Wiped up some spilled coffee. ‘No, sir,' she said. ‘He really wasn't.'

Smerconish smiled. ‘No, I don't suppose he was.' He picked up the file and said, ‘Why did this take so long?'

‘You wanted it done on the Q.T. That takes time. And anyway, her story wasn't straightforward. It took a while to trace the mother.'

‘And?'

‘Died giving birth.'

‘The rest of her story checks out?'

Draper nodded. ‘Seems so. Nash grew up in care in Albuquerque. Frequently ran away. Stillwell Hobbs somehow managed to cheat the system. He fostered her when she was seven. Used her as cover while he travelled the country murdering people for money. Eventually she was old enough to learn the family trade. Turned out she was much better at it than he was. Not surprising really.'

‘And there's no doubt?'

‘None whatsoever. We took a sample of her DNA from the self-defence ring she wore. Matched it against what we already had in our database. Harper Nash is Koenig's daughter.'

‘And he doesn't know?'

‘No. As far as I can tell, Koenig and Rebecca Nash's paths only ever crossed the once. She visited Koenig's college with her lacrosse team. We figure they hooked up then.'

‘Does she have the same condition as him?'

‘She does. We scanned her when she was under a general anaesthetic for the bullet in her ankle. It's not as advanced as Koenig's, but she is on the same track. She is heading for the same station.'

‘Koenig doesn't know about her Urbach–Wiethe either?'

‘No.'

‘He doesn't suspect.'

‘I don't think so,' Draper said. ‘He's not dumb, though; he knew something wasn't right. She didn't react to the waterboarding as we'd expected. I think he put it down to psychopathy. But I've been watching Koenig for years, and I could see they shared similar traits. Urbach–Wiethe is so rare I thought it was at least worth checking. If only to rule it out.'

‘No wonder she's so dangerous.'

‘She's worse than dangerous, Andrew,' Draper said. ‘At least Koenig has a moral compass. She doesn't. She's Hannibal Lecter in a Ramones T-shirt. And she has no fear. Whatever happens, she can never go free. You understand that, right?'

Smerconish didn't answer. Draper had known he wouldn't. He wouldn't be able to see past what could be achieved with two Urbach–Wiethe-compromised assets. Draper thought it was a mistake. Recruiting Harper Nash would backfire. Smerconish would have to find that out for himself, though. He wouldn't listen to her.

He never did.

He said, ‘Are you going to tell Koenig?'

‘That Nash is his daughter?'

Smerconish nodded. Interested. Draper suspected this was the only question that mattered to him. The reason they were meeting face-to-face.

‘Am I hell,' she said. ‘Who needs that kind of emotional baggage?'

‘Do you think he'll find out on his own?'

‘He's Koenig. Of course he'll find out. It's a miracle he hasn't already. Two people like that, operating the way they do. I'm amazed they didn't enter each other's orbits earlier.'

Smerconish pushed the file back across the table. It remained unopened.

‘Something to ponder then,' he said. ‘And now I must leave you, Miss Draper.' He stood and offered his hand. They shook. ‘Until next time.'

He walked towards the door. A car pulled up outside. He stopped and turned. ‘One last thing,' he said. ‘Do we know where Mr Koenig is now?'

‘I have no idea,' Draper said. ‘He said he might head to Nebraska.'

‘So?'

‘So that's the last place he'll be.'

Smerconish smiled. ‘I'll keep an eye on the news.'